Impulsive blogging. Questions from a bus.

Thoughts jotted down impulsively during a sudden high emotional peak on a mini-bus some 8 hours ago somewhere in southern part of continental Thailand. Barely edited, possibly harsh (to some). I apologise for this and my one-sided judgement based on exasperation and hot humid air. I’m self-concious to publish it, again, that’s what this trip is doing to me, much to my satisfaction. I relish these moments and so I want them here in the space which is mine.



What is it that drives you out of your native towns, fatherlands, motherlands and places you were born and maybe raised in responsibly by your parents?

What is it that pushes you hard in your back and urges you take a plane, or yet another plane?

Where does wanderlust come from and why does it rub off on you but leaves the people you leave behind unaffected?

Does it make you different, your experience?

What makes you stay and nestle in a place at some point?



I’m wondering because I’m speeding on this damned tourist mini-bus packed full with Russians I am trying my best to ignore.
Through the jungle. And I want to get off this bus right now and walk my own way. Alone would be more than ok. I want to talk to people in those sad-looking, dilapidated buildings of all bright, cheerful colours of the rainbow with tiled verandas.

Look out of the window! Why won’t you look out of the window right now and take it all in…


Something is calling me to wander. I want to see raw culture, nature I choose to see, the green of kinds I’ve never seen, beaches I’ve never trodden, streets bustling with life I don’t know about. Something is calling me out of the shell and the prospect of letting myself get locked in is horrifying.



How do I cure the burning pain in my chest of feeling disconnected with those who should be “my people”? With the gap growing only bigger, deeper, and harder, harder to bear.

“You belong there where you were born” – is a Russian saying underpinning, in my view, our very culture and one that I consider to be so unfair and unconsoling.



I have questions. About things I see and things I won’t see anytime soon. About feelings I am experiencing and why am I feeling so raw. About languages I hear and why do I hear mullah voice in the jungle, where from and to do children in white robes and Muslim caps go at 8 pm, playing, goofing around and being children on a muddy road 500 meters to the ocean.
I have questions and some of them can be answered by Google, others by exploration and open character.
I have questions that have grown from within and are burning my mind and provoking my reason to take action frowned upon by others, to say the least.


I’m not restless. I think I’m just craving more than I’m already getting. I feel an acute need to, through experience, find meaning, balance, and My Place.





These questions and musings from a bus end abruptly here with this picture from a beach.

The questions in the post are not rhetorical and I’d appreciate any perspectives shared on those problematic issues that I was concerned with earlier today.

Thanks for reading.

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9 thoughts on “Impulsive blogging. Questions from a bus.

  1. paulreaduk says:

    Hi Ann
    Good questions, to which I can only offer some thoughts, incoherent as they are.

    When I was young a lot of university age students took a “gap year” to go and do the Inca trail, work on a beach in Thailand, that kind of thing. I never did. The stated reason was having no money, the unstated reason was that I thought it was a bit of a middle-class thing for a horny-handed son of toil like me to do, and the probably-more-honest reason was that I didn’t have confidence to do any such thing on my own.

    I never really thought I was missing out. There’s an old Paul Simon song, “The Myth of Fingerprints”: the ‘former talk show host’ protagonist reflects on the fact that he’s “met them all, and – man – they are all the same”. I was of the view that travelling meant taking yourself to places that look different, but you would still be inhabiting yourself, and hanging around other members of Homo sapiens who do all the same things, albeit in a slightly different way.

    I actually split up with someone over that. She wanted to go around Europe, I wanted to stay. I waved my hanky to her as she departed over the horizon and I went back to my serious job in an office or whatever.

    Fast forward 12 years, and I’ve been teaching English in various destinations around the world, and I don’t regret a single one of the tedious hours on the planes I took to get there.

    [Ironically, the ex is now settled and happily married in a farmhouse in Aberdeenshire. Last time we met we clinked wine glasses and toasted fate’s sense of humour, to the sound of Paul Simon’s “Still Crazy After All These Years”…]

    The thing is, I’m still not sure that I was ever wrong. I do take me with me, wherever I go, and to the extent that I am the reason I want to leave here, I will be the reason I want to leave there, sooner or later. They say that travel changes you, but I’m not sure that’s true. I just think it gives you a lot more data to compare against the things you are used to and know.

    Such experiences and data points can completely change the balance of the equations in our lives, or they can simply be interesting, beautiful, stimulating: the stuff of tomorrow’s memories, stories and blog posts.

    I can’t think of a Paul Simon song to end with, so how about Bob Dylan? “You can always go back” he sings “but you can’t go back all the way”. He seems to be right. But I think that’s true if you’re the one disappearing over the horizon, or the one waving a hanky on the shore.

    • annloseva says:

      Thank you for sharing your thoughts here, Paul, which happen to be part of your life story! I appreciate it a lot.

      I don’t know what’s going to happen but I am confident that every choice I am making now at this time of my life will end up to be the right one, leading to what’s best for me. For now, I crave to be disappearing over the horizon.. I need it. Now.

      • paulreaduk says:

        Hey Ann, well I guess I got carried away a bit :))

        I wish you good luck… you know, if you find a job opportunity overseas, perhaps the discrimination against NNESTs might be an issue.

        In that case, I’m sure that instead of a reference you could organize a kind of petition among your fellow English teachers, including many dozens of native speakers, who would vouch for you, for your many qualities which set you far above the average native speaking Joe-Schmoe who might apply.. I would be the first to sign!

        I think it’s about time someone blazed such a trail and wrote a blog about it… 😉

  2. swisssirja says:

    Lovely post, Anna! I enjoyed Paul’s reply a lot too!

    Travelling … when I was younger I thought I want to travel the whole world. Go everywhere. Meet everyone. Smell everything. And let’s be honest, that was also the cool dream to have. It was almost the Must dream to have. Especially for us, the ex-Soviets who had been caged for so long. So I remember how astonished I was when a friend once told me she had no wish whatsoever to go away from Estonia. That she was perfectly happy there. I guess my eyebrows pretty much met at the back of my head.
    I have been lucky to be able to do some traveling by now. Not a lot. Time and money and family and you name it. I do live in another country though. So in a way, I’m still traveling.

    But, what I’m trying to get at is … I don’t know if it’s the old age 😉 but I’m not restless any more. Not like I used to be. I have, I guess, discovered loads of ways how to travel at home. I read … I travel to and through incredible places, experiences. I write … wow, this journey is the greatest and deepest and the most personal. I have started taking photos … boy, what an eyeopener. And I dream …

    I guess we can consider ourselves very lucky. Lucky to be able to do what we wish – you are now officially a globetrotter 😉 and I’m truly happy here in my mountains taking bites of life in my own ways and doses.

    That’s the most profound and greatest journey of all, the one that leads you to peace.

    Hugs, dear Anna.

    Enjoy, try, love, ponder, get crazy, get excited, cry, FEEL …
    And come back to share!

    • annloseva says:

      “That’s the most profound and greatest journey of all, the one that leads you to peace.” – you said. That’s exactly where I eventually would like to find myself.
      It was both pain and sudden liberation to find out I don’t feel comfortable and at home here, where my home has always been.

      Now some time has passed and I’m almost ready to write a whole blog post in reply to comments to this post and my own thinking of back then. I wish I were on a beach for that upcoming blog post!!

      Thank you, as ever, for sharing your perspective and encouraging me with your words.


  3. James Taylor says:

    Ah, I know that feeling well Ann. It didn’t happen to me until I had already moved abroad, and then it hit me.

    “Of course, now everything makes sense. This is where I should have been all along.”

    So if you feel that way, go for it. Maybe you’ll change your mind like Irja or not like me (so far!), but either way, you’ll have lived and you’ll be a better person for it. And “your people” will always be there for you to go back to, if indeed they still are your people after you’ve gone. You might just find a whole new group to replace them.

    • annloseva says:

      Thank you, James. I felt that way back then, and I feel that way even stronger now that I’m back. I need it badly – the move, the change. I’m not worried about what the experience could be, I’m worried about getting to the places I want to be in!! You know what I mean, with NNEST thing and all.

      I know I’ll do it anyway.

      Thanks for your support!!

  4. Sandy Millin says:

    Thank you for writing posts like this Anna, ones that make me think, and make me wonder about who I am and what drives me.
    I’m not sure what my answers to your questions are, but at least some of it is probably genetic: on my mum’s side of the family there are many merchant seaman down to my grandad, and many people in the military down to my grandma’s parents. I’ve always loved learning about other places, and if I can be in those places while I’m learning about them, so much the better.
    Coming back to a place is always strange, because the people there have continued living their lives, while I’ve experienced a huge amount of things in that same short period of time. The last year has been a case in point, and I’m sure you found the same with your travels last year too. I don’t think I can be anything but different, since those experiences will never leave me now. Even if I forget, they will always be a part of who I am and what I’ve seen.
    But despite all that, I’m starting to get the feeling that I want to be in one place for more than a few weeks or months. It’s the feeling that comes along with the fact that I want to have a family, and at least to start with, you need security and stability for that, though it doesn’t have to stop you travelling later as many of my friends can attest.
    I just want to finish by saying I love Sirja’s comment “That’s the most profound and greatest journey of all, the one that leads you to peace.” I know people who don’t want to travel at all, and happy never leaving the city they live in. I don’t understand them, but I have no desire to change them – if that’s what makes them happy, then so be it.
    Please don’t stop writing these thoughtful posts!

    • annloseva says:

      Thank you for writing comments like this. Yes I found it to be true that experiences don’t leave, even if get blurred in the routine of the days and some even might be forgotten. Yet I’m trying to revive moments in my mind every other day, and the thing that keeps me from falling into complete despair is the act of making new plans.
      I feel different now, and not peaceful as I am, where I am.

      I hope this year brings both you and I can get one step closer to that peace.

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