So, you want to know about me—in details.

No, not creepy at all. If you want to know more about me, then I’ll tell you. And hopefully, you won’t be bored out of your mind.

I’m a magazines and international relations double major at Drake University, Des Moines, Iowa. Ultimately, I hope that I can travel around the globe to explore, not specifically diverse terrains, but different ways of life. It has always been my passion—the reason why I want to be an ethnographic travel writer, investigating the influence of cultures and politics on humanity across the globe. And it is my desire to be a courteous traveler, digging deep into the grassroots level to learn about different traditions without judging, or imposing my opinions on others. So, this blog is a collection of knowledge I have acquired, people I have met, and cultures I have experienced. It keeps track of how my understanding has expanded over time.

No, I’m not a savvy backpacker or a globetrotter. I go where my (parents’) money allows me to go. You know how poor college students are. But every time I get a chance, I’ll throw myself into a group of foreigners because they fascinate me. I love listening to their conversations. Perhaps join them for dinner. Sometimes I even thought I should have studied psychology and become one of those scientists who sit and look at monkeys all day instead.

To be honest, I’m not a professional blogger either. Now you have a person who doesn’t travel a lot and makes grammatical mistakes wanting to write a travel blog. Yes, it is an experiment for me. So far, it’s turned out all right. You’ve got silly posts like crazy Halloween costumes and Japanese octopus alien. And you’ve got some serious ones about Palestinians and the Berlin Wall. These aren’t necessarily about hip places to hang out in Rome, but they sure relate to travel. How can you travel and ignore the culture you’re in?

Enough about my passion. How about me? Here we go:

I want to go to Iran and North Korea. The more they’re negatively in the news, the more I want to see them with my own eyes that they are indeed horrible. Which, believe it or not, I’m hoping they aren’t. Afghanistan, Iraq, all the war-torn countries and any places categorized by the U.S. as evil are my calling.

Europe is nice. But I prefer Asia, my mother continent, because of its diversity and fascinating history. And when I say Asia, I include the region called by the euro-centric as the Middle East. I’m not too crazy about the Africa trend either, though I wouldn’t mind going to African countries to actually make a difference. The U.S.? Seen enough of that already. South America and Canada? Way, way better.

I even had a dream to speak all Asian languages. But India—related languages alone killed it, and we haven’t even talked about China.

I’m a vegetarian, but I’m not picky. If I can separate the meat from the rest of the food, then it’s edible. Yes, sometimes I cheat. Yes, I’ve gained a megaton of weight in the U.S. But I have my excuse: there aren’t that many edible vegetarian food in the U.S. Too much cheese. Too much milk. Too much sugar. Too much carb. Terrible veggies. It makes me realized how much I love Thai food—even the meatless version tastes way better. Som Tam is the best. Hands down.

I also have a problem with perfection. I have to constantly adjust a table runner so it stays in the center. All my toiletries have to face the same way and make a straight line. My stuff has to remain at the exact same spot because when I automatically reach for them and they aren’t there, I feel like my heart will explode. I scrub and clean. I hate dirtiness with passion—even a small dot on a sofa kills me.

Even worse is the thing about smell. I own two bottles of odor eliminator spray, two plug-in fragrance diffusers, and numerous other air fresheners that smell like Jasmin, Vanilla, Cucumber, and Lotus. My clothes and bedding smell like water lily. My lotion has a strawberry scent. I own countless bottles of perfume, including fragrance samples—all in floral scent. My toothpaste smells like Japanese Sakura while my soap smells like Mandarin Peel extract. So, I’m not kidding when I say: I WON’T TOLERATE BAD ODOR. Never. Ever.

Oh, and I insist that the Sims is REAL. Period.

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