Photo Journal: Sabbatical in the East
Snaps and Scribbles from nine months abroad
A little over a year ago, Jackie and I said our vows, slipped on our rings, danced under a brilliant autumn sunset, said farewell to our jobs, packed up our life in Austin, and set off to Kuala Lumpur. We had one-way tickets, a couple suitcases, and a list of intentions.
This post — a collection of photos and journal entries — recaps nine months of nomadic travel. Here I share some of the sights I captured and some of my raw thoughts as we experienced it — without adding too much context.
It’s not in strictly chronological order. Rather, it winds and weaves through the lens of my phone camera and the scribbles of my journal.
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Yes, yes, it’s only been a few days in Kuala Lumpur – today is our third, to be precise. BUT - I already love this place. As Uncle Jagan said yesterday on our tour, the vibrations feel right. I haven't felt a resonance for a place like this since Austin. I’m glad we get to be here for at least a month.
Malaysia feels like the Asian equivalent of wonderful, peaceful, and safe countries in the West. Kind of like Denmark or something. It's not competing for world domination, but it has an energy that's palpable.
I don't know where the adventure leads, but it feels clear that I have a strong love for this part of the world.
There are a couple downsides to Malaysia, chief for Jackie is managing the heat. KL is mall-heavy, which also isn’t always fun. And yet, in almost every other category I love Malaysia, and think it’s an amazing place.
Doha, the stopover city
There’s a sense of growth and buoyancy here…
The East is so underrated. My goodness. Doha's sustainability efforts, their ingenuity. KL's infrastructure and culture.
It might just be me, but I think it blows the Western world away.
Taiwan
We arrived in Taiwan from cheery and vibrant Malaysia. And the lack of color in Taiwan shocked us.
Besides the bright red Chinese temples, it felt as though there was a veneer of gray over many things. It was quieter. The food tasted muter. When first faced with it, it feels colorless, maybe a little melancholy.
But the more time we spent there, the more we realized that this grayness was actually an invitation to listen harder and look deeper. Subtleties add all the color these places need. Look hard enough and every blade of grass, every quiet whisper, every eyebrow twitch and precisely placed chopstick can roar.
Taipei
I stroll through these city streets, with my head full of thoughts, and the alleys bring me back to reality.
Jiaoxi
I want to soak up all of this. Even if I can’t capture it in words, I’ll attempt to remember the essence. I’ll remember so that I can tap into a reservoir when I need to access beauty.
Kaohsiung
Sitting in this little Kaohsiung coffee shop, a quiet corner called “Auntie’s” I’m inspired by its quiet and peaceful embrace. These simple spaces are the most beautiful and vibrant to me these days.
I want the things I create in the digital realm to have this same level of understated and thoughtful craftsmanship.
I like these moments because I’m en route and forced to sit still.
Japan: Tokyo and Kyoto
It’s hard not to be enamored if you’re an admirer of systems. Things in Taiwan and Japan just work. Little signs, curves of passageways, and ticket transactions are intentionally placed. All cases are meticulously considered.
There was a pervading quiet on the little streets of Kyoto. I stopped on the bridge to stare at the silent river that ran through. The streets seemed to be busy with people getting from place to place – but despite the city’s fullness, a quiet lay over everything. No one rushed by anxiously. Many stopped by me on the bridge, giving themselves a few minutes to stare at the river as well.
Chiang Mai, Thailand
This is one of the best ways to wake up: to a rooster’s crow and the songs of birds in Chiang Mai, Thailand
Writing this from the mountaintop Buddhist temple outside Chiang Mai. I’m feeling grateful, empowered, and aligned. Things feel like they’re coming together. Stepping out of Taiwan to come here has provided me with so much space, clarity, and feedback.
More Malaysia
A few months into traveling, and I have a strange feeling -- it feels happily normal and awesome not to have a home base, and I'm also pining for a place to live, simultaneously.
Kota Kinabalu
I bounce between scarcity and abundance — a dance between being an expert and imposter. I’ve come to realize that this is a sign of learning, and I pray I’ll maintain this humility in all my seasons of life.
Holidays in Kuala Lumpur
Diwali, Chinese New Year, Ramadan (by row)
Whenever there’s a holiday here, everyone knows and everyone celebrates. The vibe is electric.
It’s incredible to be spending this Ramadan with so many other people fasting. It’s so different from my experience in the US. The bazaars on the streets and in the malls add a flavor of festivity I’ve never experienced.
Detours: Malacca, Ipoh, Cameron Highlands
It’s so funny how confused people are about what we’re doing. Kinda makes me happy that we’re living life in such an illegible way.
Wandering the streets of Malacca is a way to get the thoughts flowing. I love these wanders. Coffee helps too.
This combination is my recipe for inspiration — hot cup, pen, journal, and compute power.
Penang
I wander between life potentials as I wander to different cities — and wander within each of them.
Sitting here in a little Penang Nasi Kandar, I realize how far we’ve come on this journey and how much more there is to go… the deeper questions are hard to grasp. The flickers of inspiration struggle to coalesce.
Egypt, from the Nile to Sinai
Just flew from Penang to Dubai, en route to Cairo. Interesting convos on the plane ride. Strangely I feel my people-pleasing tendencies turned all the way up. I feel like I want to be validated, understood — when my current state is so far from understandable.
But I keep praying. I must travel with purpose. The purpose now is to expand the vision of possibility, to invite rewiring, to feel confident in the ways I’m different, to be fully myself.
Sailing down the Nile River, and there’s so much to untangle, process, and ponder. Wow. That first sentence sounds like it’s out of one of the novels I read as a little kid. It’s otherworldly to be here.
These scraps of thought lead to endless rabbit holes — but somehow my mind is slow and weary with transition.
Solarpunk Singapore
Singapore can definitely make one feel poor. It’s a stunning city. There are many lessons to learn in the delicate, intricate dance of managing this city, even if I couldn’t imagine myself here forever.
It feels kinda like NYC or SF — I wouldn’t choose it as a first-choice of where to be, but if my path and work led me here, I’d be remiss to say I wouldn’t consider it.
Sustainability, finance, and technology flourishes here. And those in the region that are its lagging peers (Bangkok, Manilla, Kuala Lumpur, Ho Chi Minh, Jakarta) are likely taking notes.
Perhaps Singapore can tell the future for the cities in the region.
Istanbul
How can I write any lucid reflection on transition, sabbatical, perspective, identity — when I’m still in the midst of it? If it all swirls, how can I see it? I need the distance of time and the grounding of stability.
Sitting in this cafe in Europe, we leave the old world behind. It’s surreal the day is here.
What I pine for right now is clear air and forests, a steady desk that gratefully shows up for work every morning. A cup of cocoa and a cat on a lap. Doesn’t it sound totally opposite of whatever I wrote about a year ago – when the planning for this trip was happening in earnest?
Coming Back — New England
There’s a romanticism to travel. But the insights and learnings come far after the romanticism fades. When a new way of living will question whatever you knew before.
I feel more and more optimistic about going back to the US. Being close to family and friends feels so good. Joining clubs, finding new friendships, and getting to work sounds amazing too.
I’m back at Mom and Dad’s on what feels like a typical yet bizarre Friday morning. It’s quiet here in New England. What a gift this quiet is. In a few hours, this table will undoubtedly be full of food and laughter and stories. It’s good to be home… until the next adventure.
Publishing this on The Spoonful punctuates a life chapter, and opens the gates to a new one. I hope this you’ve enjoyed this little lens into the journey.
Essays are on the way.
Amazing. It's an experience not many get to have, so I'm really looking forward to the coming essays and reflections.
My fav part is the dichotomy of what you yearn/ed for. A year ago it was a nomadic journey, and now it's a place to lay down roots again. Or to re-root yourself whence you left.
I know myself to simultaneously long for travel, to be alone, unknown in some foreign distant land, looking at a river under a bridge and at the stars, and also be at home in the warmth of my family, to find a special someone to call home, to stoke fires and make memories with them all.
And I think these are cycles of life. We must understand that we are transitionary beings at heart. Sometimes here, sometimes there, and at both times being happy with where we are and wishing to be somewhere else. I indulged my want to be unknown by sitting on an empty bench late at night on campus with the early winter winds blowing. It felt...scary, admittedly. I was weary of my surroundings. But it felt good. I looked up at God, through the sky. Then I went back inside where there was light and warmth, and then soon after back home where there was family.
Alhamdulillah. I am greatly blessed.
Thanks for sharing some photos! I plan on sharing more of my photos too from daily captures and from past travels.
This photo journal gives me an unexpected feeling of hope; To know my immediate surrounding is just a slice of reality, to remember the world is beautiful and worth exploring. I’ll come back to this one for inspiration.