Traveling isn’t often a bucket-list type of activity for me. I don’t tend to go places just to have been, to check them off the list. To me, a place is usually synonymous with an idea or an activity. Traveling is a verb, it’s something you do, not something you take in. How you travel has a direct effect on how you experience the place you’re moving through. You can choose to skim, to consume the culture in small bites only when you have the appetite, or you can dive into it, bathe in it, try to see it from the inside out and understand how it fits into the world you know, the world you came from. Despite making it a priority to budget large chunks of time off during my year, the term vacation doesn’t really resonate with me. Looking back though, this trip was something of a vacation, a vacation from my reality, from what I’m used to. I didn’t know what to expect from this trip. Sumatra had been a nagging idea in the back of my mind for years but how to make it happen, what I would do, how I would travel through a place so remote to my understanding, I just didn’t know. Somehow I found Amy’s Place, and now it all makes sense.
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