cozy

It is our last night in Malaysia before we fly to Thailand. Our new friend, Rash, is kind enough to have welcomed us as his guests for a few days and it is amazing to be in a real home again. Right now, I'm sitting cross-legged on the guest bed, wearing my Bob Dylan go-to shirt, with a glass of wine on the nightstand. (Side note: The friendly owner at the buffet down the street let us borrow a couple of glasses for the night. "Oh, you'll bring them back tomorrow? No problem!")

Emily's glass is on the floor. She has the sewing kit between us (her new bag handle started to rip, but that is now fixed) and she just got off the phone with a pizza place that delivers gourmet pizzas, calamari, and strombino.

After dealing with some airline-sanctioned red tape, taking a 9-hour bus ride down the country's coast, and completing our final Kuala Lumpur missions in the last full day we have in Malaysia, Emily and I agreed that all we really wanted to do tonight was hang out and watch movies and drink vino. Basically, we wanted a night that felt like home.

Yesterday, Rash asked us, "What's in your survival kit?" It took me a minute to realize that what he meant was something along the lines of, "What do you need from home to feel grounded as you travel?" I don't need a lot in terms of material objects, but having a cozy night is a main part of my experiential survival kit: Watching an American movie, eating some late night food American-style, browsing life back home through Facebook and email. Wine makes the night better. Pajamas make the night perfect. We've had plenty of Asian cuisine, lugged around a camera every day, and completely submerged ourselves in the travel experience. I can't really describe what a relief it is to just screw it all and become a homebody for a night. I don't think of it as a night wasted, but as a night earned.

Of course just by expressing my sense of relief for a break, I feel compelled to reiterate how lucky I feel to be on a trip that nearly exhausts me. I'm learning things every single day, whether it is how to ride a motorbike, how to cook new foods, or how to have a conversation about foreign politics with people who have a wildly different perspective than myself. I'm out of my element in all sorts of ways and it's awesome.

The people I have met--especially locals--have changed my world. Rash is a perfect example. The cousin of one of my new friends from Birthright (you're the best, Arun!), this guy got up at 3:30 in the morning, and picked Emily and me up from the bus station. He not only saved us a decent amount of money, but also introduced us to a different perspective of Kuala Lumpur. Last night, we joined Rash and his fabulous girlfriend at his buddy's new cigar and whiskey bar, Whisky Tango Foxtrot. We relaxed in the back room with a door that looked like a wall panel, and met some generous, down-to-earth folks who shared Japanese whiskey and traveling stories of their own. It was the kind of night that would only happen with a local friend, a night that was unique to Kuala Lumpur.

And now the pendulum swings and I need the cheesiest night possible: American films that rated poorly on Rotten Tomatoes, wine out of a bottle with a screw top, and thin crust pizza. All in my pjs. It's perfect. As much as I love the surprises of traveling, sometimes having the familiarity of a cozy night is just as wonderful, my personal take on a "survival kit."