Thailand - how my trip changed me

When I'm on the go, whether at home or travelling, and I have an idea for a blog post, I always quickly jot it down in a note on my mobile phone, otherwise I'll forget the topic again very quickly. My list is currently quite extensive because I have just spent three wonderful weeks in Laos, and I also have an ice cream parlour review in Vienna on my agenda, which is currently on hold due to the cold weather (unfortunately not because of the cold ice cream, but because of the unpleasant outdoor temperature).

Something that has been at the top of my blog post list for a long time is ‘Thailand – how it changed me’. Sabine from the travel blog Ferngeweht had the perfect timing for me with her blog parade Travel changes you . There you will also find many posts from other travel bloggers on this great topic.

My time in Thailand – and how it changed me

Just under six months in Phuket are now behind me, and with them my training first as a divemaster and then as a dive instructor, followed by a ‘learn to teach’ internship. It was a time that demanded a lot from me emotionally and physically, taking me through highs and lows. I met many people along the way, lost some (no, not in the ocean...!), learned and developed – and now I stand here as a completely new person. So much has changed, so much has stayed the same and feels new – and all of that in the best possible way.

I will try to put this into more understandable words.

I have learned to live from one day to the next.

I am a planner. I would like to write ‘I was a planner,’ but I think planning is good. Actually, not just good, but awesome. I can spend hours planning things. Meals for the coming week, meetings with friends, brunch invitations, travel plans and ‘what to see,’ the family Christmas party in 10 months. I can even plan completely absurd or irrelevant things. So I spend the best time daydreaming, furnishing a 150-square-metre penthouse apartment in detail, which I will never be able to afford in real life unless I marry a millionaire or win the lottery after all.

In short: I love planning.

I can live with that just fine. It becomes more difficult when I no longer feel comfortable, when I can't plan ahead. And that's how I felt during my Divemaster training in December. I had expected something like a curriculum. Or at least weekly previews, such as "Monday: skill training in the pool and theory, Tuesday: diving boat, assisting a diving instructor," etc. That wasn't the case. Not at all. And that wasn't because of my instructor, but because that's simply not how diving schools in Phuket work. Most of their business comes from walk-ins, i.e. people who walk past the diving school, spontaneously come in and book a diving course for the next day. So it's the same for all the diving instructors there: you find out at 5 p.m., but sometimes not until 9 p.m., whether a course is starting the next day, whether you're leading a group of certified divers, or whether there's nothing scheduled and you have the day off.

That was quite difficult for me. And it took me a whole month to achieve the necessary composure. It drove me crazy at times not knowing whether I would have the next two days off, be working on the dive boat or be teaching a course myself.

But slowly, very slowly, I became more and more indifferent. I didn't even really notice how my attitude towards spontaneous daily planning was changing. It was only much later, when I was asked what was planned for the next day, that I suddenly realised. I replied, ‘I have no idea, I haven't received any information yet’ – and I didn't care at all that I didn't know. There was no more stress, no discomfort about it – just relaxation, because it simply wasn't important. Maybe a diving boat, maybe the start of a course, maybe a day off and then a trip to the beach to relax – whatever it was, it was fine.

I have a whole new body awareness.

For most of my life, I have been on a diet. When I wasn't on a diet, I was at least trying to start a new one. The feeling of being too fat (even though I wasn't, at least most of the time), a compulsive preoccupation with food and a certain hostility between my body and myself – that's what I've been dealing with since I was about 13 years old.

When I arrived in Thailand at the end of November, that was the state of affairs. I was far from my ideal weight, objectively chubby, naturally with winter-white skin, and my last workout was a long time ago. I just felt uncomfortable, as I usually do, only exacerbated by the fact that you can't hide in jeans and sweaters when it's 35 degrees outside.

But: I didn't go on a diet. I really hoped that Thailand and its wonderful food would do the rest. On top of that, of course, I was suddenly physically active almost every day due to my diving training. I also slowly got a nice tan, thanks to the many hours of sunshine every day and on the dive boat. It's just the way it is – you always look better and slimmer with a tan than you do with pale skin.

The realisation was similar to my compulsion to plan: it didn't happen gradually, but suddenly one day. My clothes were too big, I could look at myself in the mirror without squinting, and I liked what I saw. And I suddenly had a whole new attitude that I hadn't even suspected before: I was grateful for my body and its strength. Finally, I know what I am capable of thanks to my body – namely, completing several dives every day and walking across the dive boat with 20 kilos of equipment on my back without any problems, or climbing out of the water using the ladder while lifting a small Chinese woman up by her diving tank. Or diving against really strong currents while pulling along a diving student who had been swept away.
I now know what I am physically capable of, and I am proud of that.

And what's also nice is that during my holiday in Laos, I was quite lazy physically and ate a lot, so naturally I gained a few kilos again. But I don't feel bad about it anymore, or at least not nearly as bad as I used to. Because I know that my next job as a diving instructor will start soon, and that the extra weight will disappear again very quickly.

This personal well-being has lifted a real weight off my shoulders.

I know what I don't need.

I arrived in Thailand with two suitcases full of personal belongings, plus another one for my diving equipment. One of the personal suitcases turned out to be completely unnecessary, as I quickly realised. Too many things that nobody needs, too many ‘what ifs’ and stockpiles. This suitcase went back home almost untouched.

I also had the great advantage of going to a hot country as a diving instructor. That meant I didn't need to take much clothing with me and didn't have to wear a different outfit every day in a fancy office. Next up was makeup. I had my entire makeup kit with me – and ended up wearing makeup maybe eight times during my entire stay. And even then, only the bare minimum, because the temperatures meant that everything would run off your face in no time anyway.

And so I now know that it is perfectly possible to live with ONE suitcase full of personal belongings. After all, no country is ‘out of reach’ these days. If we need something abroad, we just buy it there. This has the great advantage that I don't have to carry around things on spec that I probably won't need, but instead buy them when I actually need them.

Light living is easy living.

I have learned to truly appreciate my homeland.

Austria and Europe – yes, that has always been my home. But I have never associated my home country with a genuine patriotic sense of belonging. In terms of the right-wing patriotism that our regrettable politicians are currently espousing, that is still a long way from my mindset, but:

I now know what I appreciate about Austria and Europe. I love the depth of history that is almost genetically ingrained in all of us. I love the many fantastic cities and places with their beauty and exciting past. I love the opportunity to travel cheaply and quickly to a wide variety of countries that are on every American and Australian's bucket list. I appreciate the cleanliness, the public transport, our punctuality and the peace and quiet, because compared to Thailand, it is quiet here even next to a four-lane road. I am grateful to have been born in a country with such high standards of living and levels of prosperity, and grateful for the opportunity to buy organic eggs and food of the highest quality in every supermarket around the corner.

There's no question that I still enjoy visiting Asia and other countries where things are ‘different’ from here. But my appreciation for my homeland has grown enormously – as has my love for it.

I am grateful for my friends – more than ever before!

I know very well what I have in my friends. I am infinitely grateful that there are so many people who actually put up with me and love me, which is certainly a challenging endeavour at times. 😀

But arriving home after six months and feeling how everyone is happy to see me and wants to hear how I am and what I have experienced is really a great feeling.

I love you too! ❤

Habt auch ihr Reisen hinter euch, die auch in irgendeiner Art und Weise nachhaltig verändert haben? Oder vielleicht sogar im Gegenteil – findet ihr, dass euch das Reisen gar nicht verändert? Ich freue mich auf eure Meinungen dazu!