…recovering from a cold I caught a few days ago at my last stop, Fenghuang. Since I rarely get sick it took me a whole day to realize the symptoms I felt were not a simple dehydration. Once my body made it clear(er) something was off, I immediately began the process of healing.
(Even when feeling sick one cannot pass the opportunity for a cool picture.)
I’ve met many fellow travelers who speak of destinations as if they’re mere checklists, as if a city or a country are all about an x amount of things to see, eat and/or experience. For me, traveling is not about getting acquainted with a place on the map in regards to what it has to offer. The way I understand traveling is through who I am and who I become when I visit a place on the map. This way, traveling becomes one more tool in my self-healing kit.
(Self-reflecting or fishing? Both very useful to know how to.)
For example, I can remember clearly who I was when I visited Nepal in 2012, the goals I had, the lessons I learned, the friendships I earned, and the growth I attained. Even though I didn’t experience all the things that country is famous for, I will always have Nepal in my heart as the first country I navigated alone, and the one that made me fall in love with solo traveling. Each and every country I’ve visited has its own special place in my heart not because of the experiences it offered, but because of the part it played in my growth.
(Any path adorned with empty beer bottles, a wooden fish and a label reading “Songs” is worth following.)
Getting sick especially while traveling and being truly in tune with myself – or so I thought – is a sign to focus more on my body’s and mind’s needs instead of just being on the go. After getting Vitamin C and some fresh fruit – who knew that Chinese kiwis actually have a purple core – I checked in at a nice hotel right on the river. In spite of my tight budget, having a comfortable and a slightly luxurious stay was exactly what my heart prescribed for the night. It felt good to pamper myself, and to be reminded that one of the most important goals of traveling is to get acquainted even further with my needs and desires, and hopefully to infuse that knowledge into my day-to-day routine no matter where I am.
(Boats waiting patiently for the nightfall when they can begin strolling again, transferring people from one riverside to the other.)
Often listed as one of the most beautiful towns in China, Fenghuang in Chinese means Phoenix, the mythological bird that when it is time to die it is consumed by fire only to be reborn by its own ashes. The legend has it that two of these birds flew above the area where the mountains meet the river, hovered above it bedazzled by its beauty, and finally founded the city named after them.
(Spot the differences: The same location photographed in the daytime, and in the nighttime.)
Divided in half by the Touyiang river only to be stitched back together with countless bridges, the ancient city holds on to its charm through cobblestone narrow alleys filled with
tasty smells guiding you voluntarily or not to their source; little shops selling handmade silver jewelry, or renting colorful traditional clothes to those who want to have
their own photoshoot in the name of their heritage, or just for fun; restaurants keeping alive their fresh catch of fish, frogs and even turtles in little aquariums in their front, while their tables are overlooking the river in the back; fishermen spotted in their wooden little boats in the river starting early in the morning till dusk turns the city lights on; and finally, the 22m tall, seven-storied hexagonal Wanming Pagoda, standing in the ancient
city’s most central spot, reflecting its image to the water either through the sunlight during the day or neon lights at night, making it one of the most iconic buildings in Fenghuang.
There are times when the brain is too quick in responding to a situation, leaving the generally slower to react body lagging behind. Both the brain and the body carry wisdom, but each has its own timing; that’s when the heart plays the important part of bridging these two. When I am in tune with my heart it doesn’t matter how far ahead or behind the rest of me is; each moment, my heart tells me what I need to know. Unlike the Phoenix, I am not given second chances: I still am and forever will be a student of my humanity. However, I still reserve the right to be bedazzled by my life’s unique opportunities to grow, taking all the time and space I need. And just like that, Fenghuang will not be remembered as the city I got sick at, but the city I was – once again – reminded to listen to my heart.
(Rough seas make great captains, does this apply to rivers too?)