Samstag, 19. Mai 2007

Whom did I meet in...Africa?

Nomad Tours ruled for a certain time.
Met some funny people as well in Africa.
Here they are...

ALL







especially SIMONE (Switzerland)

I love the stories from the blue winegumes ,-)





Damien& Simon (Belgium)

Un jour, je vous rend visite à Bruxelles, les ga!!

Anna (Sweden)

incredible how much power this girl has.





DEAN (UK/ Zimbabwe)

Met him in Durban....and am sure we'll meet up one day in Asia

Donnerstag, 17. Mai 2007

Worldtour diary- Part 13

WORLD TOUR DIARY PART 13- THE END

08 05 07 to 15 05 07

EXPLANATION

Excuse me; this diary part might be confusing at it has been written on different days;

THE LAST DAYS
As I said in my last mail, I arrived on Thursday morning in ZANZIBAR.
And my last 5 days over here are once again a brilliant example of
travelling & how your mood can be influenced.
Arriving there, I was once again in a flush, totally high & just..
just happy.
Zanzibar, this is not only terrific beaches...but as well a mixture
of cultures, especially Indian,Arabic, Muslim & African one.
Every female person wears scarfs, loads of noise and action everywhere
in the streets. Huge markets where you can buy whatever you want,
huge bargaining....and people who are more than friendly to you,
because you're one of the very few tourists at this time of
the year (rainseason).
Everybody starts talking to you...and...once you've left the town...
you really feel it comes from the heart, everybody is just welcoming
you. Hakuna Matata, no worries. A lifestyle for the Zanzibar people, who
live in shabby houses.
So...taking a minibus with 28 other people I made my way to the Northern
beaches, Nungwi...and arrived in paradise.Cristal clear turquoise water,
palm trees, white sand....and rubbish directly everywhere when you leave
the beaches.
I didn't mind, enjoyed the strolls on the beach and had too terrific
days of diving, exploring the amazing coral riff, thousands of fish,
sea turtles etc.
And then...there was the Saturday evening. Shortly after 7pm I checked
the soccer results...and within one minute life didn't make a sense
any more.
Nobody who hasn't been in the stadium on the 19th of May 2001 knows
how hard it can be to loose a title in the last second.
And nobody else knows...how it is to do it again.
After Saturday there was a big hole, and after some big big inner fights
I decided nevertheless to come home, to support my team another time...
and hope....where there's no hope anymore.
So..headed from the beaches into the loud town of Zanzibar city,
taking an interesting tour over the island getting to know all the
different types of spice they grow on this island.
Finally, I had my last lets call it interesting experience. In some moments....you just can entirely forget what you’ re looking like; where you’re from etc;;;;
On the hardest ferry journey in my life (my 7 hour trip to Corsica ages ago was nothing against)...just EVERYBODY was lying down on the floor...together....vomiting....
What a feeling of belonging together ,-)
Then...after a last sleepless night, I caught a cab bringing me to the airport in Daar Es Salaam.
Taking one plane; having terrific views over Mount Kilimanjaro....and a final goodbye from the African continent, just...just before arriving back in London, Europe.

THE END

Intro

This is the last mail from my worldtour and abviously it is much more emotional, much longer than any other mail before.
And…I write in different languages, because I do feel the urgent need to write down all the stuff which tingles around my head. And…every language reminds me of other emotions, other things I have experienced, other people.
And..to be honest…I have never felt able to entirely express my emotions in English.
English- for me- is just a means of being able to communicate with a bunch of people at the same time, but…it rarely comes from the deepest point of my heart.

When writing, I have been traveling for more than 7 1/2 months. About 8 weeks less than I thought, much more than some people expected me to ‘stand’.
But…it was NEVER a standing. And..when I look back now, the ‘hard’ moments never appear to be a standing. They have even been a certain kind of highlight of the biggest thing I have ever done. They are moments which I definitely do NOT want to miss or forget.

In the last 5 months, I have been reading travel journals from various people, travelers I met, knew…and they all made me laugh, cry & think of the whole spirit and experience of a travel.
To be honest, I assume it must be very hard to imagine what it means to ‘backpack’ around the world if you have never done it. I never understood what other people wrote in their diaries when I still was at home.
As I have been traveling on my own, I now feel the urgent need to ‘share’ this experience with somebody. You!!
And…to make my emotions a bit more understandable, I start this mail with a part of the final entry from somebody else (I know you will laugh at me about that , won’t you ,-) )
There are loads of emotions, experiences which are very similar to mine and I never felt so close to this guy than today. Because I have the impression I do understand at least a small part of his life now.
On the other hand, I feel so different and mentioning my emotions just after his/her shall help you to understand me a little bit more.
Perhaps you wonder how silly Little Jochen can be to share so deep emotions with such a lot of people, perhaps my emotions will frighten, shock you….but…I feel I have to write them down…and anyway…I strongly believe that my friends will understand.

As I said, let’s begin with his/her ending


so this then is the end.
the end of travelling, of crossing borders every few days, of packing my bag every day and again, of travelling countless hours in back-cracking busses, of dirty huts with tons of insects crawling across the floor, of leaking ceiling and stinking toilets without a flush, of lazing around in the sun with dozens of others, of the incredible architecture of centuries-old ruins, of nights of insomnia because the itching from my more than 100 moscito stings kills me, of me killing almost 50 moskitos in less than 20 minutes and finally running away from my dinner no longer being able to bear it, of being mistaken for a french, swiss, dutch, belgian, spanish, mexican, irish, american, argentinian, brazilian, of diving, skydiving, bungyjumping, rafting, swooping, downhillbiking, of talking to people of half a dozen nationalities daily, of continuously planning where i am going to next, of talking about the same stuff again and again, telling people where i have been and where i am going, of prostitutes, ladyboys and countless gay guys, of taxis and busses day and again, of girls that don't turn into "you are not getting into my pants!"-mode the very second you talk to them, of people being in their holiday mood, of being sweaty all day long, of clothes that still look dirty after washing, of some clothing item ripping apart or being lost every other week, of countless new beers and foods, of sandy beaches and steep mountains, of snowstorms freezing off your toes and the tropic sun burning your skin, of my bladder almost exploding and my empty stomach revolting on endless rides on busses with no toilet and no stopping for hours, of smelly dripping showers, of the incredibly good asian food and the incredibly bad asian foods in the places where the busses stop for dinner, of meeting new people everyday and of spending days talking less than five hundred words, of thinking in english or spanish half the time, of having to switch to a new currency again and again, of incredibly low prices for almost everything, of not having to dress up before going out clubbing, of hotels where local people are not allowed because they might be prostitutes, of communicating with the world via internet because there is no phone, of a scribbled-on paper slip taking you halfway across a country, of my bag getting soaked even in the belly of a bus, of not shaving for a week solely because of the lack of a mirror, of having to unpack half my bag to find one specific tshirt, of having to constantly plan ahead basic necessities like when to wash my clothes or what time to eat or go to the toilet, of sharing dirty bathrooms and toilets, of waiting for replies to emails for ages just because i cannot phone up people because of the time difference, of new cultures every week, of endless boat and plane rides... of a life of nobody caring, a life of provisories, a life of freedom, sometimes of aimlessness and lack of direction... of a life on the road, and sort of of my youth as well.

i was a student last year, i have been a backpacker this year, and now it's time to become serious.
though it's been hard sometimes, i loved this travel, and i still do. but i have accomplished this challenge, and now i am looking for a new one. after living without home or comfort, without anybody giving me directions or constraints, without friends and without the need to deal with anybody if i didn't want to, i now want to get just a tiny little bit more settled. a clean bed, a place to leave my stuff for more than just a day, a little more variety in food and a long hot shower... after travelling for so long these simple things suddenly seem a lot more promising. and i need a new challenge, i need to prove myself that my head still functions, that i can still deliver intellectually. last year around that time, i totally disliked the thought of having to get a job. so i travelled the world. and now i am not only ready, but also willing to take on this new challenge. who knows, maybe in a few years' time i will be sick and tired of the daily job routine. but then i can just quit and start a new world tour. because now i know i can do it. for the time being however, i pretty much like the idea of simply getting filthy fucking rich in the shortest time possible ;)


And this is MY end
The end of 7 1/2 months of backpacking. The end of visiting 1000 of museums, of meeting hundreds of different people every day. The end of telling my stories (Where are you from? What do you do in your life? Why do you travel?), to be honest after a certain time of travelling as well of inventing stories of my life, because I got bored, tired of telling the whole time again and again (and of course, Little Jochen, il l’aime exaggeration, n’est-c’est pas ,-) ???)
The end of being mistaken (or being wanted to be mistaken) as a French, Swiss, Belgium, Israeli.
The end of 20 hour nightbuses, the end of wearing clumsy, smelly shirts.
The end of getting my clothes back from the laundry dirtier than before, the end of loosing T-shirts, sunglasses,money…and especially of loosing cameras ,-(((
The end of thinking in USD, of thinking in different currencies every two weeks.
The end of bargaining as hell, sleeping in tents, on the roof of a house, in a car.
The end of hearing people snore in the dorms or entering singing at 5 am.
The end of dirty and cold showers.
The end of improvisation and never knowing what will happen the following day and rarely what will happen today.
The end of planning 3 weeks in advance, not planning & changing continuously all plans. Every day. Every hour. Sometimes every minute.
The end of people telling me that I definitely can’t be German because I would be too emotional/sensitive for that. The end of people telling my about the 3rd Reich.
The end of never booking a hostal in advance.
The end of climbing mountains, jumping out of a plance, quadbiking, mountainbiking, diving, kayaking, abseiling.
The end of being ages on a damn slow internet to update you about my travel.
The end of months without any bodycontact, tenderness, kissing, embracing, love.
The end of a world of loneliness, chosen or not, the end of nobody caring, of everybody being too occupied with ‘daily life’
The end of stupid mails asking “How are you”, of being unable to explain my emotions in a mail. The end of calling in 7 1/2 months as often as I usually do in 1 week…sometimes even in a day.
The end of changing currencies, time zones, sleeping habits (from 1amto 7am in Peru, from 7am to 12am in Buenos Aires, from 22-8am in NZ).
The end of discovering one sight after another, of never stopping, the end of getting to know interesting people & leaving them the following day.
The end of people worrying about me all the time my mail or diary entry sounded a bit strange.
The end of an amazing average of 4 people reading my journal (be honest, who cared???).
The end of an ‘endless summer”, of a tan over 7 months, of freezing and being unable to sleep in the tent.
The end of not knowing what I want.
I don’t wanna say that now I entirely know what I want. But I know, I FEEL that I want to go home now although I said I wanted to travel until July. Although I have been the last days pushed so positively that I feel able to travel again for some more time.
But…at the moment, I feel not only a bit tired of travelling. I feel the need of going home for several reasons.
Firstly…and I was talking with my heart about that for months and months….the need to go home to be in this certain place on a certain date (I will write on my homepage about it!!! Please see under ‘Worldtour- Europe return).
And secondly I want to have some time. Some time to think about all the things I have experiences. Some time to read books about countries , places & people I never cared about before.
Some time to discuss with you Westernization, wars, poverty, racism, travelling, love, the soccer season…
Have some time to write you, to call you, to meet you, take you in my arms.
Have some time to ask questions about the things which have happened in YOUR life.
Some time to see the incredible luck of motherhood.

I know, I have been egoistic to just go away another time & just travel. But…I had to do it.
One year ago, without knowing exactly why I felt I had to go. I had NOT to continue with JSP. Against all the opinions of people worrying about my future career.
Now I know, I feel I did the right thing.
I loved this travel and will always loved it. Cos it changed me so much….and didn’t change me at the same time.
Now, I feel more confident just to ‘do the right thing’. Means, doing whatever I feel, instead of doing what I think I feel.
I don’t feel that much the demand for a hot shower, a clean bad as my prewriter did, because I don’t have the impression this will ever make me as happy as a mountain, a beautiful sunny day or a smile of a child.
But…as he/she did…I’m feeling the need of a certain kind of stability.
I’m looking forward to stay at one place for 2 years without moving, of not changing from one soccer club to another, of not exchanging my friends every two months.
I am not looking forward of getting fucking filthy rich, but I am looking forward to getting a job, having some kind of daily routine.
I want to continue to feel, to ‘do the right thing’ (as the Kiwi’s say: Don’t litter!!), to get a job which turns around my feeling instead of money. And this definitely contains people.
Because…when I look back now to my travel, I know….I will forget after a certain time about the museums, mountains, sights.
But…I will always remember one thing.You. The people. The people I met and have seen pissing in the street, carrying heavy backs on their shoulders, the 28 people travelling with me in a minivan.
I will never forget about the owner of the hostal in Lima who called me just having arrived ‘different than the other travellers’ & explained me 2 hours about his favourite places in the country,
Or..the girl entering the dorm in Trujillo at midnight who I have mistaken first for a boy, the lovely bunch of people who hiked and sang with me on the Santa Cruz Trek, the guy who walked with me through the streets of Ica, the 3 girls with whom I spent some amzing days in Cusco and who are the best followers of my homepage, the couple who went with me from Potosi to Uyuni to Tupiza and later couched me in NZ and Australia, the crazy girls whose shoes I was never able to lick properly, the girls who cried with me in Buenos Aires, the guys who played on the guitar in Puerto del Inca, the guy who gave me a ride in the snowstorm on his street worker van on the Chilean border, the Brazilian guys I met in Santiago who changed my opinion about Brazilians, the guy who is always in ‘perfect’ mood and ‘pays nothing’ throughout whole NZ, the girl who talked for hours and hours with me about soccer in Ayers Rock, the Asian girl from Perth who’ll soon visit me in Germany ,-), the guy who smiles to shock people I met in Durban, the lady who I will always love and who was the only one who kept the promise to join me on my tour, the guy who told me about life with 50 EUR/month in Cape Town, the girl I met in Namibia who cares for her parents & finally found out the importance of caring as well for herself, the Rundu-guy who wanted to do ‘business’ with me.
This is a big THANK YOU to you ALL (sorry for not being able to mention all of you), because YOU made my travel what it is. The greatest experience of my life.
I hope you enjoyed ‘travelling’ with me, sharing my experience and my passion with me.
My travel is finished now…for now ,-)…but I will continue writing on my homepage about my feelings ‘after’, and the feelings on the 19 05 , 6 years after the craziest 04 minutes of my life.
I will continue writing about my boring life at home…and…- I know myself too well- won’t necessarily be a ‘ 2 years at one place’, but could end in some new exciting changes.
The only thing I want to promise is the most important thing I learned. I want to follow my intuition, my feelings.
And…the way I feel now….I would say this hasn’t been the last time I backpacked ,-)
THANK YOU TO YOU ALL

Il y a un an, une personne pas bcp plus agée que moi m’a demontré toutes mes faiblesses.
J’étais choqué, bouleversé et perdais toute ma confiance en moi meme, tout d’un coup.
Ce qui me choquait bcp plus que la dureté de ces mots c’était le fait….qu’il avait raison. Avec tout.
Mais il m’a fait comprendre moi meme bcp plus et lui aussi. Avant…je l’appelais un monstre, parce que je ne comprenais pas son comportement….mais sa honnete a changé ma facon d’agir..et egalement ma perception de lui-meme.
Il m’avais fait comprendre que je ne me comportais que comme un ‘bosseur sans cerveau’ et que j’avais d’autre chats a fouetter que de rencontrer des gens aux foires et bavarder avec eux des produits qui m’interessaient pas.
J’en voulais pas seulement courir, m’en fuir de mon incapacité donc j’ai fait les choses qu’on doit faire si on perd le nord. Se battre! Et retrouver l’orientation.
Donc…j’ai – au moins je le pense- restauré mon image en agissant comme etre-humain…et pas comme employé…et j’ai decide de faire quelque chose d’autre. De suivre un reve que j’avais depuis plusieurs ans.
Mec, quand tu liras ca…tu vas peut etre rigoler…et je sais moi meme qu’on sera jamais ami…mais je suis reconnaissant pour ta honneté. Merci!

Donc, je suis parti dans le rien.
Dans un jamais savoir ce qui se passe. Dans un n’ecoutant que son coeur d’un jour a l’autre.
J’avais peur. Oui, j’avais peur de ce grand pas.
J’avais peur de cette instabilité, d’etre seul, peur de faire des choses que j’avais jamais fait dans ma vie.
J’arrivais le soir a Lima et etais choqué par la folie qui reignait. Tellement du monde qui voulait me vendre un taxi, enfin un conducteur de taxi qui me trichait avec le taux de change, qui me faisait sortir du taxi dans un coin de la ville qui n’avait pas vraiment l’air d’etre ‘en sécurité’.
La nuit suivante, elle etait de nouveau décisive. Car….je me disais…et je me dit maintenant avec une bcp plus grande conviction: Si…tu toujours restes comme ca, ayant peur des gens, de toi meme..tu vas jamais reussir. Tu vas jamais reussir d’apprecier ton voyage, tu reussiras jamais dans ta vie.
Donc…j’arretais a craindre et degustais. Tout.
Le sourire avec moi, 24h sur 24. Car les gens qui me voyaient sourire, sourissaient aussi.
Et ils commencaient a me parler, a prendre des photos de moi.
Meme les gens qui me faisaient de nouveau peur en me dépouillant, ils me faisaient sourire d’une certaine maniere. De ma stupidité de ne pas etre capable d’ecouter aux gens, de penser que tout le monde est qn de bien.
J’ai pas rigolé instantément, mais ce jour la, etant a poile dans les rues de Buenos Aires est juste un de ces miraculeux evénements dans les dernier 8 mois.
Je me vois toujours encore danseant sur la scene du concert a Cusco, torse nue, timide…mais heureux.
Je me vois dormant dans le coffre d’une baignole, parquet avec 3 autres gens.
Je me vois au sommet de Machu Picchu, pleurrant de joie de ce calme.
Je me vois aussi seul dans l’eglise de Sao Paolo pour Noel. Seul dans une masse de 300 personnes chanteant comme dans un stade de foot pendant le jeu de la nativité.
Je me vois avec une masse de question sur ma meme quelques jours apres.
Me demandeant si je suis con ou si les autres le seront.
Je ressent… la douleur des emails de quelques personnes qui me donnaient l’impression de m’avoir completement oublié.
Je vois le ga, qui me redonne ma confiance entiere, sentant que je ne suis pas qu’une ame seule et perdue dans la vie. Qui me demontrais que je ne suis pas un solitaire qui toujours essaie de se différencier.
Il y avait plein plein plein de moments dans mon voyage dans lesquels je ne voulais PAS etre comme les autres. Car je ne voulais pas dépenser ces extra 2 USD pour un pizza quand je pourrais manger qc de local.
Car je ne voulais pas etre bourré.
Car je voulais juste chanter, monter dans une rapidité incomparable une autre montagne.

Au début de mon voyage j’avais peur d’etre seul et j’esperais qu’il y aura un ami quelquepart pour me joindre.
Auj’hui, je suis bcp plus content qu’il y avait personne pour me faciliter la vie.
Que j’ai du faire MES choix, mes fautes,. Que j’ai du sentir la douleur d’etre seul, la joie d’etre seul, la joie de rencontrer les gens incroyables.
Et…après un certain temps j’avais compris, senti que j’etais pas seul dans mon voyage.
J’ai recu plein de messages pendant mon voyage, surtout des mails des gens desquels j’attendais pas de messages.
J’ai recu des mails mes diseant que mon projet sera incroyable, qu’ils me admireraient.
Des mails qui me demandaient mon sort, qui s’occupaient de moi,
Des mails stupides me demandant du nombre de femmes baisées.
Des mails réguliers n’expressant rien.

Ils valaient rien. Presque rien.
Car je suis ni qn a admirer, ni qn pour lequel il faut s’inquieter sans arret.
Une fois dans mon voyage j’ai ecris un mail a quelques entre vous, senteant une douleur incroyable. Et…la…ils etaient. Mes amis.
Trois personnes qui avaient compris. Qui m’ont ecris meme pas une fois par mois pendant mon tour.
Mais…ils étaient la dans le moment ou j’en avais besoin.
Pour etre ami, il faut pas etre a cote.
Il faut etre la, qu’on va mal.
Merci pour avoir été la.

Mon tour de monde est fini et il peut paraitre que j’ai pris la grosse tete. Que je me surestime et pense qu’a j’ai mange la sagesse sans arret.
Oui, je me sens plus sage qu’avant.
Car j’ai compris quelques choses dans la vie qui sont importantes. Au moins pour moi.
Et..bien que je sois pas un hero ou qc de special, j’aimerais bien partager mes idées.
Car…peut etre dans ma naivité (je l’apprecie, cette naivité), je souhaite qu’on- tout le monde – change notre vie au moins un petit peu.
Je sens…
- qu’on a rien a se plaindre. J’ai vu des gens dans des conditions merdiques, merdiques, merdiques. Mais heureux. Et leur esprit,,,a crée un sentiment d’etre heureux aussi dans ma meme. Je souhaite qu’n tous sera plus heureux, reconnaissant pour les petites joies de la vie au lieu de se prendre la tete chaque journee pour des conneries

Je sais, il y aura des gens qui compredront pas de quoi je parles….qui veulent pas comprendre. Ces gens, désolé pour mes mots, il peuvent s’aller foutre. J’ai plus rien a branler avec vous. Pas…parce que je suis mieux, non, juste…parce qu’on a rien a se dire.
Et j’ ai plus envie de polluer ma vie avec ces gens.
Maintenant, je rentre dans une vie européene ….qui me parait plus que bizarre. Parce qu’on a tout….et rien. Et....moi, je n’ai qu’une envie. De devenir heureux; de faire les gens heureux.
Je ne sais pas s’ils y a des gens qui ont lu mes mails. Je ne sais pas s’il y avait qn qui sentait ce qu’ai essayé d’exprimer. Si je suis arrivé de toucher juste une personne entre vous, de juste motiver une personne, de changer sa vie juste pour un petit peu….je serai heureux.
Je souhaite que mes rapports vous donnent la force, le courage de ne pas douter vous-mêmes. De plus rien craindre. D’y aller. De foncer. De devenir écrivain au lieu de faire un boulot qu’on aime pas. De dire NON si on veut pas. De dire OUI si on veut dire oui. De se lever, d’aider aux gens qui ont besoin d’aide.
D’etre positive. De croire dans l’amour.
D’aimer.
Je vous aime.
Jochen

Hallo Deutschland!

Vielleicht sollte man nicht an einem der traurigsten Tage seines Lebens eine "Abschiedsmail' schreiben.
Aber...wenn ich ehrlich bin...ist ein 'traurigster Tag' noch stark untertrieben.
Es ist Sonntag, 13 05 07, der Tag 'danach'. Nach der wieder einmal verpassten Meisterschaft.
Entschuldigt meine schlechte Laune....
sowieso denke ich bei Deutschland sowieso haeufig an Depressionen, schlechte Laune, sich beklagen,
die Dinge immer wieder hinterfragen und hinterfragen...


Ich erinnere mich an die WM 2006, eine Zeit, die ich leider nicht in Deutschland verbracht habe.
Die Welt zu Gast bei Freunden.
Ein Slogan fuer einen Monat. Und vergessen?
Beinahe 8 Monate bin ich gereist, in die verschiedensten Winkel dieser Welt.
Und ich war ‘ein Gast bei Freunden”. Ich war ‘ein Freund bei Freunden’.
Mich haben die verschiedensten Menschen einen ‘falschen Deutschen’ genannt. Weil sie nicht
verstehen konnten, dass ein Deutscher auch emotional, offen sein kann.
8 Monate, in denen die Menschen so unheimlich freundlich zu mir waren. Mich zum Essen
eingeladen haben. Ich in den Haeusern von Menschen, die ich ich gerade kennengelernt hatte,
geschlafen habe.
Menschen, die ich nach dem Weg fragtre mich ueber Stunden durch die Stadt gefuehrt haben.
Nicht, weil sie Geld wollten, sondern..weil sie Freund waren.

Ich weiss nicht, wie sich ein Tourist in Deutschland fuehlt. Ich behaupte nicht, dass wir
unfreundlich sind. Aber ich weiss auch nicht, ob man bei uns “Freund’ ist.
Wenn ich nach Haus komme, moechte ich Freund sein, fuer jeden, der mein Heimatland besuchen
kommt. Und ich wuerde mir wuenschen, dass ich nicht der Einzige bin.
Das jeder von Euch andere als Freunde empfaengt.
Das auch ihr Euch bei Couchsurfing (www.couchsurfing.com ) anmeldet.
Und...dieses bescheidene Bild der Deutschen,.als Volk der Nicht-spasshaber und Arbeiter
zerstoert.



Momentan weiss ich noch nicht, ob ich gluecklich oder traurig sein soll nach Haus zu kommen.
Ich bin aufgeregt, erfreut, aengstlich....fast genau wie in den Tagen, bevor ich meine Reise begann.
Was jedoch anders ist,ich weiss, was mich zu Hause erwartet. Und ich weiss es auch nicht.
Ich wuerde mir wuenschen, wenn ich nach Hause komme wuerde die Welt fuer einen Augenblick stillstehen, alle Blicke wuerden sich auf mich richten, alle meine Freunde wuerden am Flughafen auf mich warten. Aber....ich weiss, dass ich kein Held bin....sondern nur ein kleines Licht.
Vor einigen Monaten hat Mr.Pyralis zu mir gesagt „Hey, wir koenne dien Welt regieren“. Und ich habe gelacht. Weil ich kein Herrscher sein will und nicht die Groesse; Staerke, Kraft habe.

Aber....nach 8 Monaten voller „anderer“ Erfahrungen, will ich in meinem kleinen Ummfeld ein „Botschafter“ sein; ein Gluekcsbringer; ein lachender; gluecklicher Jochen; der andere Menschen ansteckt; sie begeistert und sie aufmuntert.
Dabei geht es mir aber nicht um meine Weltreise. Und mag es auch so klingen, dass ich jetzt tue als wuesste ich alles....
Ich weiss, dass mich diese Reise persoenlich weitergebracht hat. Aber ich bewundere Menschen; die anders sind als ich. Das Maedel; dass mit 22 weiss, wen sie liebt und mit wem sie ihr Leben verbringen moechte. Die Leute; die den Garten pflegen; weil sie ihren Garten lieben. Die Leute; die im Kongo arbeiten; weil sie gerne helfen.
Ich denke; es geht nicht darum WAS man macht. Sondern, dass man die Dinge, die man macht liebt.

Neben all der Euphorie, dem gestiegenen Selbstbewusstsein; der Idee weniger Angst zu haben fuer seine Traeume zu kaempfen.....ist meine Rueckkehr aber auch verbunden mit einer grossen Unsicherheit; Mit Angst.
Es ist nicht, dass 'Weltreise beenden',was mir Angst macht, sondern das 'zu Hause ankommen'.
Weil mein zu Hause etwas eigenartig ist, so erscheint es mir jedenfalls.
Auch wenn ich es nie vorher ausgedrueckt habe: Ich bin froh, dass meine Mutter doch noch nicht
ausgezogen ist. Das kann sie gerne in ein paar Monaten machen...aber erstmal bin ich froh,
anzukommen, an einem Platz, den ich schon kenne.
Ob das zu Hause ist?


Wenn ich an zu Hause denke, dann denke ich gerade an die haertesten Monate meines Lebens.
Vermutlich! Ich hasse das 'Nichtstun' und rumsitzen...und ich weiss jetzt schon, ich werde
das 'Warten auf Antworten' bei meinen Bewerbungen hassen. Mehr als alles andere.
Ich werde versuchen, mich neben den Bewerbungen x anderen 'Herausforderungen' zu widmen...
Sport, Nebenjob, Reisen ...was auch immer. Weil ich das Nichtstun hasse. Weil ich es hasse, von
meine Gedanken aufzufressen werden.
Ich habe mit anderen Leuten gesprochen, die kurz vor dem Ende ihrer Weltreise standen.
Und alle sagten sie mir, dass sie sich darauf freuen, ihre Freunde wiederzusehen.
Und ich denke..."ja"....aber ich denke auch..."Welche Freunde??"
Das soll noch nicht mal zwingend ein Vorwurf sein....aber...wer von Euch hat mich dann allenerrnstes
auf meiner Tour begleitet, an mich gedacht?
Wer hat mich denn nicht schon als den rastlosen Menschen abgeschrieben?
Hat denn jemand daran Interesse, in jemanden zu investieren, der in Frankreich, England, in der
Welt zu Haus ist?
Sag mal ehrlich,Jochen?
Weiss nicht! Ich weiss nur, dass ich von einigen Menschen in den letzten Monaten enttaeuscht
gewesen bin. Enttaeuscht ueber ihren Mangel an Anteilnahme.
Von einigen anderen war ich ueberrascht, wie haeufig sie mir schreiben, und mehr als erfreut.

Positiv ueberrascht und gluecklich.
Dabei kommt es nicht auf die Zahl der Mails an, die ich erhalte.
Die 2 Personen, die mir emotional am Meisten gegeben haben auf meiner Weltreise, haben mir selten
geschrieben, sehr selten.
und trotzdem habe ich bei Ihnen das Gefuehl, dass ich mich auf sie verlassen kann. Wohin ich auch
gehe, wie lange ich auch gehe...und dafuer bin ich Euch mehr als dankbar.

Auf der anderen Seite muss ich natuerlich auch mich hinterfragen. Ich frage mich" Wieviel habe
ICH mich denn fuer EUER Leben interessiert?
Ich mein...'natuerlich' halte ich es fuer schwieriger, dauernd pesoenliche Mails zu schreiben,
wenn man unterwegs ist als wenn man im "Alltagsleben' ist.
Aber...wie wuerde ich mich denn als vater, Mutter, Diplomarbeitsschreiber verhalten?
Habe ich nicht immer Respekt fuer mein Verhalten verlangt.
Mag bloed klingen..aber das soll echt nicht eine Vorwurfsmail sein.
Ich will nur meine Gefuehle aufschreiben. Ich weiss, dass jenes mir hilft.
Hilft stark zu sein. Keine Angst zu haben. Hakuna Matata zu sagen.
Nach Hause zukommen, zu schaun was wird. Und Euch hoffentlich mit meiner
positiven Laune anzustecken.
Denn....das wichtigste, was ich auf meiner Reise gelernt habe ist ein-
man vergleiche die 2001er Abizeitung- " Ein Tag ohne Laecheln ist ein verlorener Tag"

Und jedes Tief hat auch seine positive Seite. Auch wenn ich dachte, ich haette 2001 schon
die Abgruende eines Fussballfan-darseins erlebt...so hat vermutlich auch die
"Nie Deutscher Meister(schaft) 2007" vielleicht etwas Gutes.
Denn nur wer die Tiefen gesehen hat, darf die Hoehen erleben.
Was waere meine Weltreise ohne ein Haufen verpatzter Busse, ein Ausgeraubtwerden usw.
Es waere ein Maerchen...und kein Abenteuer.
Und meine Worldtour 06/07 war ein Abenteuer. Die schoenste Zeit meines Lebens.
Auf die ich mir, auch wenn es vielleicht so klingt, nix einbilde, die mich aber glauben
laesst, dass man , wenn man will, alles schaffen kann.
Seinen Scheiss-Job kuendigen und einen neuen suchen, den man richtig magt.
In ein Vorstellungsgespraech zuversichtlich reinkriegen.

Ein Kind grossziehen.
Den Affen dressieren.
Eine Praxis eroeffnen.
Einen Umzug.
Eine Weltreise.
Und sogar das Wieder Heimkehren von einer Weltreise.


LAST BUT NOT LEAST SOME INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT MY WORLDTOUR

229 days
Ø
95 nights in nightbuses;
Ø tents; nightplanes, cars, couching at sb’s place
70 different
Ø hostals
more than 120 days of sunshine
Ø
Only once badly
Ø ill
¼ of all days without internet
Ø
04 soccer games
Ø watched
23 soccer stadiums visited
Ø
5 lost T-shirts; 04 broken
Ø sunglasses
500 moscito or sanfly bites
Ø
1 perfect Mrs. Monroe
Ø met
14 planes
Ø
15 countries (Peru, Bolivia; Argentina;Paraguay,
Ø Brasil, Uruguay, Chile, New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Tanzania)
20 border crossings
Ø
100 new
Ø friends
more than 100 eggs eaten
Ø
2 guns and 2 knives
Ø seen
more than 50 batteries used
Ø
ONE LOVE: YOU !!!! THANK
Ø YOU


PS: I just updated my homepages concerning pictures and diary entries.
I will send you soon my whole diary and my whole book of journal entries;

PS: PLEASE SEND ME ALL YOUR NEWEST CONTACT DETAILS

PPS: My adress for the next months will be
JOCHEN KEMMER
AM WINGERT 55
52355 DUEREN
GERMANY

TEL: 0049 2421 65525



Donnerstag, 10. Mai 2007

Worldtour diary- Part 12

World Tour diary part 12: 16 04 07- 10 05 07

It’s hard to write about things which seem to such a long time ago.
Especially, when things change so quickly…and suddenly everything seems different.
My last Diary dates already nearly 4 weeks ago, many countries away.

When I wrote last time, I was still under shock. Shock of South Africa.
A country which really moved me, tired me.
For the first time in my travel, I felt an urge of going home.
But…I knew…I didn’t want , I couldn’t finish my travel with an experience like that.
I need to finish ‘at the top’.
My mother leaving, I felt…strange…and finally decided to do sth completely new.
Going on an organized tour.
I knew, I needed somebody to push me. Somebody who takes away the pain for a moment, makes me laugh.
And…it worked ,-)
So, after a few last days in Cape Town a left with Nomad Adventure Tours and a bunch of people (in the beginning 8, at the end 11) people direction Namibia.

And…suddenly I had what I always wanted and what makes my travel something I do like so much. An adventure. And a totally different experience.
If I look back to South Africa…then I know…it’s not my country although it certainly has some kind of beauty. But…despite the ‘black’ experience…it is too much European, it has too much comfort. Too many forests like in Switzerland. And all this tired me.

“Adventure Travel’ with Nomad meant once again sleeping in tents, getting up with the sunrise, sitting around the campfire. Being close to nature…the thing I do love so much…because we forget about in sooo often in our ‘normal’ life.

The 20 day trip started with a ‘Bushmen-walk’ (recognizing spiders, salamanders, plants) in the Cederberg region in the North of South Africa and continued with a kayak-trip (ok, slow, very slow to be honest) on the Orange River, just right at the border between South Africa and Namibia.
And…then…we were in Namibia, the start of the ‘real’ Africa (although the few cities which do exist are still kind of modern, western), took a ‘cold’ bath in the hot pools (38degrees) of Ais-ais….Yes…in comparison to the outer temperature, the water WAS cold.
Though, Namibia was as well the start of my preparation for the next soccer season. Running even at sunset time can be demanding…when it’s still more than 30 degrees…and dry!!
After visiting the Fish River canyon (with 85km length nearly as big as the Grand Canyon I saw about 10 years ago in the States), we arrived in the middle of nowhere.
In the desert! Exactly in the Namib desert, the 2nd biggest desert in the world. My friend Lionel already told me earlier about the desert...and his stories very largely under value.
If you're sitting on a sand dune, in all directions for hundreds of km's only sand and sand, dark red sun, green bushes (cos it had luckily rained....about 4 years ago)...this is just amazing and peaceful.
After this silence I did my action part quadbiking over the sanddunes in Swakopmund an entirely German town in the middle of Namibia….and got played out by Swiss-girl Simone (definitely the best part of this tour ,-) )….means…she was way faster ,-)
After another nature experience (sleeping in a cave, lighted up only by candle lights) and climbing Namibia’s 2nd highest mountain range (Spitzkoppe), the cultural part took it’s place. Getting to know the Himba tribe (people who ‘dress’ up in red colour, wearing not much, and not using smoke instead of water to clean themselves)…was something nice, but didn’t entirely feel like in the real world.
Less surreal than the Etosha national park, game watching (lions, rhinos, zebra, jeapards etc)…and especially the improvised 3-on-3 soccer match in the middle of the Etosha pan (a huge sand pan in the middle of this national park, looking like a salt pan)…which ended with a bleeding Jochen ( Amazing tackle!!!).
Yes, some things will never change….as for example as well our dance contest in mini-village Rundu. Officially called ‘ tradional dancing’, Little Jochen rocked the dancefloor so badly that even local were impressed ,-) (My telephone number? Please…ask my manager!!)
This night event was followed by another party…..We still have to learn something in Europe. When Church is something FUN instead of boring…then you have to have some rhythm in your mind. Gospel for Go(o)d!!!
….
Another 10 hour bus (It’s no bus, it’s a not a truck .It’s Sid!!!) ride on the most bumpy roads of the world and we arrived in Botswana. Capital of ecotourism, hefty prices and national parks.
We only made it through two (Chobe & the Okavango Delta), but nevertheless I got bored a little bit at the end from the amount of animals.
The best part of those 5 days of game-walking, makoro-riding (boats like in Venice), hippo-watching..was….to be honest….-besides of the sleeping in tents, hearing the animals roaring right next to you- the soccer results ,-)…which changed my mind completely…but later more about that.
Enfin, finally the end of the Nomad tour with another border crossing.
Welcome to Zimbabwe, welcome to the Victoria Falls. Welcome to a country with a terribly bad reputation…and an inflation rate of 1500%.
Getting soaking wet at one of the 7 wonders of the world, the Vic Falls (I still prefer Iguazu falls) was one part, negotiating on the huge street markets another…
And I say…I can’t believe the hype about an unsafe Zimbabwe. If the rest of the country is like that..then every tourist is treated like god.

As I said, I needed those 20 days of ‘support’ from other people…but I knew…I couldn’t finish my travel like that…..and started to travel again ‘at my speed’ to finish my travel in the proper way.
Means…crossing the border to Livingstone, Zambia, ‘going local’ once again (letting the amazingly friendly locals show me around, getting an ultra-short African haircut)….and….pushing my limits for another time.
Before Tuesday 20 hours in a bus were my record….now I managed to double it,-)
>From the West of Zambia to the East of Tanzania, 2300km in 41 hours ,-) More than fun.
,-)
And…here I am now. Having taken another ferry …I arrived on ZANZIBAR.
But…more about this in my next and LAST travel diary.
Keep on rolling, Schalke!
Jochen’s back again!!