Listening to Tori Amos' Beekeeper album which I bought from Kunming, China for only 9 yuan (equivalent to around 70 pesos ata). Wish I bought that Zero 7 album we saw in Li Jiang, but they were selling it for 15 yuan, un-haggle-able. Ask my travel buddies (Jing, JO, JJ and Abi) what song I was constantly singing during our 2-week stay in Vietnam and China, and they would unanimously say "Zero 7!" Actually Zero 7 is the artist; the song is "In Time." It perfectly summed up how I felt that time.

All the words are calling
Got time on my own
There's no destination
Wondering whether I'll feel it again
Take my hands off the wheel
Coz there's nowhere else to go
Take some time, just hang around a while
Like to sit this silent moment out
I don't wanna lose or let you down
Time's just gonna change itself around

I felt like I was a nomad, always on the go, with my backpack, with friendship as my one certainty. We travelled via bus, by train, by plane, by a small Vietnamese boat. And these were long trips-- 15 hours, 10 hours, 8 hours. Time flowed. I felt like I couldn't be tied down at any one place yet I felt I belonged everywhere. It felt exhilirating to be different. I did feel homesick, but I think I discovered that home can be found anywhere.

In Dali, (a province in Yunnan, China) an elderly Chinese couple adopted us because no one spoke English. On my plane ride to Ho Chi Minh from Hanoi, I sat beside an 80-year-old Vietnamese gentleman who couldn't figure out how to buckle up his seatbelt. I helped him and patiently listened to his stories (even though I did not understand) because I wanted to give back what the elderly Chinese couple has given to us.

Some nights ago, I have come back and re-connected with things and people familiar. There is bliss in going away and discovering nuggets of wisdom; but there is also bliss in coming home.

But at the back of my mind, I'm raring to go out there again.