When I meet non-travelers, I often get asked why I have such a strong fire in my belly to travel. (Some may refer to the fire being beneath another part of my body, but I’ll keep that body part out of the conversation:))

I wonder why they don’t travel. We both look at each other in disbelief. They wonder why I have more stamps in my passport than some diplomats and I wonder why the highlight of their week is about going to Costco.

I answer that I want to see other ways of being, visit historic places, listen to native music, try local foods, enjoy their weather, explore local culture and festivities, see friends, expand my horizons, learn other languages, etc, etc.

But this trip to Thailand didn’t fit into any of my typical reasons.

Upon arriving in Bangkok, I wondered what I was doing there as I had spent a significant amount of time there almost three years prior. This trip was for me to clear my head and be at peace. I had been debating about whether to travel to Russia with my mom for an art exhibit, to attend the biggest bookfair in the world in Frankfurt, visit Lebanon and Syria or return to Thailand. When I discarded the work related trip to expensive Germany and the family trip to the grim and grey life of Russia, I was left deliberating between the Levant and the Kingdom of old Siam. Intellectually, historically, culturally and linguistically, Lebanon and Syria were the winners and I’d been wanting to go there for at least nine years. Politics aside, that’s not a part of the world one travels to when one’s goal is that of serenity. My mere three weeks of Arabic language lessons that are currently just vestiges in my mind would have distracted me from my own thoughts and entertained me into trying to understand the Arabic around me. I might have even enrolled in an Arabic language crash course with a beach view in Beirut had I gone there and spent more time perfecting my guttural sounds than clearing the junk from my head. Mind clearing? No, not at all. So I chose the land of smiles and inexpensive travel, lassis and smoothies. Having absolutely no interest in the music, language or dance of Thailand, I was certain to not get distracted by some cultural, linguistic or mental pursuit while there.

Now that I am in Pai, a small semi-hippie town in the northwest of Thailand, I can’t be bothered to venture up north to Laos or west to Myanmar. As a matter of fact, I can’t even get myself to visit the caves an hour outside of the city. I am so happy to just be in silence and do little. The art of the dolce far niente (beauty of doing nothing) could still be perfected in my life as I seem to still task myself everyday with errands (going to the cobbler to fix sandals, taking clothes to seamstress to mend, giving away my three kilos of laundry for less than $3 to get cleaned, fixing my sunglasses, illegally downloading music on my Ipod, etc).

What can I answer those who may inquire about all the wats (temples) I visited in Thailand or how much of the Thai language I learned?

I was visiting my inner temple and listening to myself.

One of the biggest lessons I learned in Southeast Asia on my wonderful trip here in January 2007 was to listen to myself, follow my heart and know that there were no wrong roads to take in life.

Sometimes we have to distance ourselves from our lives to know who we really are and where we want our life to go.

Thank you Thailand for giving me this opportunity. I may never learn your language, but I will certainly return to this beautiful land!
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—-Susanna Zaraysky blogs for New America Media about being a global citizen. She has just published a book, Language is Music about how to learn foreign languages using music, TV, film, radio and other low-cost resources. Her website is: www.createyourworldbooks.com