My apologies for the lack of Blog entries in the past couple of days (or is it weeks now?); life back in Greater New York has been crazy -- but in a good way. Rather than moping around with nothing to do feeling depressed that I'm not off climbing a mountain or something, I've been more than occupied with a lot of projects, and not in a corporate structured nine-to-five kind of way either. There's been more than enough stuff for me to do these past couple of weeks since DAY 503 -- most of them requiring me to wear the hat of a designer, not the hat of a writer -- but it is necessary as it pays the bills. If this keeps up, I'll be ready to go around the world again in no time, with a whole new Blog.

As I said before, life back home is pretty much the way it was back in 2003, which, at least for me, wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Freelance projects, my hobbies, following leads, cycling, parties, happy hours, and pooping (sans diarrhea) are all a part of the norm, just like before I left. I stated in a previous entry that it doesn't feel like The Global Trip 2 changed or transformed me at all; I'm still the same guy as I left in October 2003 -- and everybody here seems to agree. "Yeah, you're exactly the same," said Moelicious.

"You're the same," my friend Heide said. "Those guys [on the Blog who only know you from the Blog] don't know you the way we do."

Fellow RTW traveler and Blogreader PC (a.k.a. Claudia), who had gone around the world in twelve months and had experienced "Re-Entry Syndrome" before me, told me that depression would probably sink in during my fourth or fifth week, although everybody's different. I am currently writing this in my fourth week back, and I'm happy to report that depression really hasn't sunk in -- except for perhaps the gradual reversion to teen angst from being a thirty-year-old single guy living at his parents in the suburbs to pay off credit cards. (Actually, it wouldn't be so bad if only the house was accessible to a subway station, and if saying the phrase "living with my parents in New Jersey" actually scored brownie points in the NYC dating scene. [It's the "New Jersey" part that's the turn off.])

Perhaps this supposed "Re-Entry Syndrome" hasn't sunk into my mind because I'm not one to dwell on the past. "[You don't feel it because] you only live in The Now," my friend Allan said at the DAY 503 party, after having a more than a couple of beers.

"You know," I told him. "That's it! That's it exactly. You hit it right on the head. That's it exactly. You hit it right on the head." (I'd been drinking too.)

I guess on a subconscious level, before, during, and after The Trip, I've strived to live life in "The Now," not knowing what the next day will bring, as much as I can. Thankfully, many times, that "next day" usually involves beer.

TO BE FAIR TO THOSE BLOGREADERS who say that I must be a changed person after such a big worldly experience, I'll admit that I'm not completely and utterly the same. While I'm still basically the same person, The Trip has made me wiser and has evolved my personality and lifestyle, in more ways than one:

1. PATIENCE IS A BIGGER VIRTUE. A lot of people back in the New York area are surprised to hear anecdotes about when I get angry at something. "Erik, you can't get angry. I can't picture you mad at all for anything," they'd say. My parents would probably disagree with that -- they've seen it all through the years -- but perhaps that's just a result of the intrinsic teen angst in all of us.

Generally speaking, over time I've built up my tolerance for discomfort and waiting -- a definite must-have for anyone planning to go backpacking -- and it's true; I don't often get angry since I try not to "sweat the small stuff" as they say. (Everything is small stuff.) I'll have to say that The Trip has only forced me to be even more tolerant and patient than before. I remember being in Baños, Ecuador in the beginning of my trip, trying to decide whether or not to take a bus to a town three hours away or one five hours away, and I opted for the former because, Five hours? That's so long!

Of course over time, I had no choice but to take longer and longer rides and ultimately just got used to them. Twenty-five hours to Rio? Eh, sure, whatever. In the end, my longest overland transit time in one leg was over thirty-three hours, on a train across Siberia. Thirty three? Feh.

One thing I have learned on this trip is that most of the world is more patient than the West. Most countries joke about their lack of punctuality by saying things run on their nationality's time -- i.e. African Time, Filipino Time, Bolivian Time, Indian Time -- and all of these "times" are generally 30-60 minutes later than the time actually stated. Buses don't leave at 3 p.m., they leave 3:30ish.

It got me thinking. From what I've seen, there are more people in the world that run by this other "time" than people who are "on-time." Which means that Westerners are actually the odd ones out; everyone else in the world is more laid back with a sort of simpler philosophy on Life, knowing that Stuff will get done eventually, so what's the rush? In the end, I've learned that it's the West that is just uptight about a lot of things, like schedules, relationships, and diets. It's no wonder so many are on Prozac.

2. MORE CIRCLES. Back in the New York area, I have many friends, but in different circles that don't necessary clique together; with my eclectic upbringing -- I was raised Catholic in a Filipino household in a pre-dominantly Jewish town, and hung out with Jamaicans, Hispanics, Indians, Italians, Jews, Asians, and this one Iranian kid -- I have acquaintances from many walks of life. It's funny; in a recent Chris Rock stand-up show I saw on HBO (recent for me at least), he says "You'll never meet a guy who likes both Seinfeld and the Wu-Tang Clan," -- but as soon as I heard that, I thought, But hey, that's ME.

Some friends I have go as far as to say that I'm "the nucleus" that brings people together. Now I don't know about that -- it's beer that is the real nucleus -- all I know is that most of my free time has been spent bouncing from friend to friend having one-on-ones since I didn't have time for it during the DAY 503 party. Four weeks later since that night, I've spent quality time with most of my old friends at least once -- drinking at Tracy J's, meeting up for coffee, "doing lunch," playing video games, watching Conan O'Brien live and Chappelle's Show from bit torrents -- but it hasn't stopped there. The Trip has only expanded my circles and created new ones; since DAY 503, I've met even more Blogreaders that I didn't know beforehand: Hanalei, Stephanie, Dan (of NeverBeComplete.com, in town for a layover on his own global trip), and SBR-turned-latecomer commenter RachelJC, a recent east coast transplant from Oregon who had relocated to the NYC area in Jersey City (or, as she playfully refers to it as, "The J.C."). Concurrently, my e-correspondence has broadened to more places in the world -- Siberia, Japan, Singapore, Bangkok, and Canada to name a few, as well as more of the states in the U.S.A. In turn, I feel more connected to the world than I've ever been, which is a really good thing. It'd be cliché to say "It's a small world after all," so I won't. Oh wait, I just did.

3. JADED. Going in on this trip, I remember being excited about the world, about seeing new places that I'd only heard about on Discovery, National Geographic, Michael Palin's travel shows, Globe Trekker, and The Amazing Race. The first half of the trip was great, being an impressionable backpacker, taking everything in like a sponge -- but over time everything started looking the same, even across continents. I became churched out, templed out, villaged out, parked out, jungled out, museumed out -- completely and utterly jaded. Some travelers say that once you hit that point it's time to go home so that new places continue to be "special," but this is usually said by Europeans travelers who have the convenience of month or more-long holidays and can go around and explore one country for a while, then another country the next big holiday (with salary). North Americans really don't have this luxury, what with their two weeks vacation and all, and the only way to "see it all" is to do it in one big shot between jobs.

A hackneyed phrase on the backpacker trail when entering a big city is "Eh, it's just another big city." In defense of cities -- I think they are appealing travel destinations as long as they emit a vibe -- I believe you can equally say, "Eh, it's just another small village" about a small village when you've seen as many as I have. For some reason, many little villages look the same, whether it be in South America, Africa, or Asia, all with a hardware stand, a fruit and veg market, a place that resells clothes from the Salvation Army -- all under corrugated tin roofs. In the end, the urban scene, the rural scene, and everything in between has homogenized into one big blur in my head.

As awful as this sounds, I have found some pluses in being jaded. For one, it's sort of cool to have seen it all and not be afraid of "exotic" things, sort of like when Indiana Jones meets the villagers in The Temple Of Doom and isn't phased by being served bugs to eat. Been there, done that. Another advantage to being jaded is the fact that I can finally see travel writing from the mind of travel editors, who are usually inundated with submissions from aspiring travel writers who just write about how impressed they are about something "new" -- when in reality, it is not new. From what I've learned in panel discussions, travel editors are jaded too and every destination has been written to death already, no matter how remote. The key to writing a viable story for publication is to write for the jaded mind, which in turn, makes the piece more engaging.

But perhaps the biggest advantage to being jaded is the realization of the universal themes of humanity. If I am jaded because everything just looks the same to me, regardless of location on the globe, then I've definitely witnessed for myself, and made the self-discovery that we, as human beings, are all connected to each other. Generally speaking, humanity and civilization has evolved in different places thousands of miles away from each other in a similar manner, regardless of religion or race. In the end, we can only realize that we are all one people and it's a small world after all. (Oops, I said it again.)

ANYWAY, THAT'S ALL I HAVE TO REPORT on the Blog for the time being. I'll end this entry now since I should really get back to my work. Besides, I am really just starting to babble things at random like an idiot now, the way most people with Blogs do. I swear, before this trip I said I wouldn't write a Blog until I had something interesting to write about -- a trip around the world, for example -- and now that the trip is over, I think I'm reverting back to that policy, as Blogs are a lot of work when you go into detail the way I do -- and I should really use that time to work on stuff or get to the next level of Metal Gear Solid 3 on my PS2.

Going around the world was easy, but going around the world while maintaining a daily Blog was one of the most challenging things I've ever done. I only hope that this Blog has inspired you, the desktop reader, to go out and travel the world yourself -- whether it be a couple of weeks trekking the Andes, a safari in Africa, or a sixteen month circumnavigation of the globe -- because reading this, as good as you think it was, doesn't do real travel any justice. All you have to do to get on your way is want it -- and I mean really want it -- and you'll soon figure out your own path. Who knows? Perhaps one day you'll get jaded the way I did too, realizing that it really is a small world af-- well, you know what I mean.

If you enjoy this daily travel blog, please post a comment! Give me suggestions, send me on missions, let me know how things are going back home in the USA. Knowing that I have an audience will only force me to make this blog more entertaining as the days go by. Don´t forget to bookmark it and let a friend know!