I want to remember being different.

Here I sit in Frankfurt's airport, waiting for my transit and getting my timing all screwed up, thinking about all that I have left behind, both in Singapore and the States.

What I have learnt from my two and a half months of independence is unmeasurable, I know today I'll return a different person. In these two months I have achieved the personal goals I've set myself, and learnt a whole great deal in the aspects of life and photography. I return today hoping that this spirit will stay with me, and I will continue to learn from my experience here.

The biggest lesson Woodstock has taught me, was to come to peace with myself. In tiny various incidents, it was repeated over and over again, that all the unhappiness and tension I was experiencing, happens because I am not at consensus with who I can become and who I am stuck being with. Without expectations, without perceptions, I was able to be freely who I truly can be, and really believe I am good enough for what I think I can portray. The Father at the Episcopal church preached being at peace, my mediation teacher Polash was all about striking a balance between your inner peace and your reality of life, Matthew the stocky body builder whose faith lies in knowing of a higher being but not with a religion. In many many mysterious ways, I got my answers to many questions in my life.

Somehow I'm not prepared to return; transforming from an adventurous single "exotic-looking" asian woman traveling the world, to the fastidious always-on-the-ball normal Stefanie I am always perceived to be. Just a plane ride away does so much boost to confidence and character building, and I will always remember to use that in my advantage in my journey to become an successful globe-trotting photographer. The diverse crazy amount of people I have learnt to tell my story to, has led me to meet travellers from Spain, Ohio, New York, Mexico, South Africa, New Jersey, Japan, Massachusetts and other states in America, and just talking and knowing a little of their life story had been such a motivation and inspiration thus far.

Living in hostels, commuting alone is really so much safer and culturally liberating as compared to what people think about it. Meeting Tom had also been a catalyst for greater thinking and awareness of what my thoughts leads up to. In his brilliant clever ways of expressing himself in words, he made me more conscious of listening to the sounds and rhythms of Manhattan, and him forcing me to express myself verbally of the gazillion thoughts that goes through my head has made me listen and understand what that means in another's perception.

I have been told of a few common things repeatedly: That I speak good English, (in which always follows by me explaining our education system and us once being a British Colony), that I speak with a British accent, cutting and pronounced, (Ginger has also effectively singled out words that are British: Like Mobile phone instead of Cell, Or Queue instead of Line) , that my shoes look nice, (I wonder why they look at shoes so much), and often they never fail to be surprised at my actual age (they always guess I'm in my twenties).

-Much Later on the Plane-

I came to America again, abandoning the first impression I had, wanting to and allowing myself to be open and observe. I met so many kinds of Americans, and learnt quite a bit from them that I really didn't expect that coming. In a general statement, they are increasingly sensitive to the Global Warming issue and talk alot about it, but I don't see the conscious effort in everyone to save and sensibly use resources. The amount of waste produced from unfinished goods/foods is obscene, and recycling doesn't seem to be completely integrated to their lifestyle.

The folks at Woodstock educated me on the various "classes" in an American society. Drawing resources and influence from great American photographers who travel to shanty towns to document the lifestyle, (Dave Anderson's portrayal of Vidor is slated to open June 2 at CPW) it wholly contradicts the American concept of freedom and opportunities. In short, Americans can be either really rich or really poor, poor in an equivalent to family towns living under zinc roofs, lowly educated and poorly taken care of. In getting to know them, you'll find yourself knowing what it means to come from various parts of the States: how Southern-ers behave, what to expect from theatre majors, the issues an average American are passionate about.

And then meeting the exceptionally warm and friendly New Jerseyians from the beach had proved the liberal streak I always believed them to possess. Being at the beach for the first time, looking "easy-to-be-picked-up", I met Jeanette who like a mother, protected and fed me with breakfast/lunch/coke and constantly watched over her shoulder in case I needed help out of talking to some werido by the waters. The warm woman from Columbia whose tan shows years of loving the sun, had been exceptionally kind. In their perception, decked in my specs (I've got eye irritation from wearing my contacts in the city! What a bummer!) week old waxed short legs, small boobs, crazy wind-blown hair (from the ferry to New Jersey), I was still differently "gorgeous", so commented a truck driver who warned me "to be safe because I am a gorgeous girl guys want to pick up" (in which at that moment I just really needed to run away from him).

I left them, somehow leading Mr Charming Stocky Matthew to think I am a "quiet reserved girl who could be a open minded liberal woman when with the right man" aka sex godess. He derived that from my "didn't even blink an eye when I told you about my friend and her toy's story", and thinks he has the sixth sense to sense my thinking, in which I responded by suggesting perhaps I was just trying to be polite by not responding to that. Wise and linguistically inclined, our conversations has led me to term myself in his words as a "rebel within the box". That few hours on the beach has led to alot of awkward moments as I tried figuring if he was really hitting on me, right under Jeanette's nose since Matt was well received and offered the bunch of women I sat with; protection. In his numerous attempts to get me to sit on his big spread out towel with fancy umbrellas by the corner, I was debating if I should let him into my secret, or just leave him fantasizing about the person he thought I am. Well, I decided on the latter.

With all that craziness, I was pleasantly surprised by a nice small town boy named Bobby with rocker-like hair from Ohio (on the plane to Germany) who didn't watch Eurotrip because he heard it showed male genitals. That was a jaw-dropping moment for me, and than I started to become unsure how to be responding to him, like whether to say goodbyes with a handshake or the usual hug. Meeting Bobby ended this whole entire American experience with an interesting twist to my mentality. Meanwhile, here's the self-proclaimed-hate-to-be-called-a-blogger's "online journal": www.bobbyacrosseurope.blogspot.com

I managed to thrive, in an culturally new environment. With my almost 90kg worth of bags (that is like twice of me!), I realised the key to successfully fend for oneself is to take things slow and steady. Bags that weigh like mountains can be moved, as long as I drag it slowly and steadily, with no emotional roller-coaster. It really helps looking small and being a black haired female, kind souls generally offer to help. The nice chinese man in charge of the check in luggage allowed me three check-ins, two luggage and a box he found for me (instead of the usual two, split into 27kg, 11kg and 33kg worth), another cut queue to drag my luggages to the front of line. In all these small help I received, I truly realised at the very moment, the destiny/fate I crossed to meet such people and whom the Almighty arranged to protect me from the big city, and all the moments before spent thinking or worrying has amounted to nothing.

The plane's darkening and its now 11pm Sing time, I have been officially awake for almost 19 hours just trying to beat Jet Lag on the way home.

-Later-

I'm home now and disbelieving how two months flew by so fast. All the nights in the woods and in my cabin, the city life suddenly just seemed so distant...