Admitting this both to myself and to my readers is obviously difficult, as you can tell by my disclaimer. I fancy myself a robust international citizen, a lover of world cultures, and most importantly: a documentary filmmaker. These identifiers signify a necessary rapture and awe at all things related to getting from point A to point B. Alas, my truth is that I do not feel rapture for three particular things that are inherently part of my travels:

o Long travel times
o Physical burden
o Poverty

When I glamorize the journeys that I take, I often ignore this part of the story. I adore the experience and the lessons that I learn so much that I forget that they aren’t always handed to me in neat little packages. Sometimes they are downright painful. Let’s break these things down a bit.

LONG TRAVEL TIMES

Being that the majority of my long-term travel takes place in far-off countries, it’s a wonder I’m ever surprised at how long it takes to get to these places. Crossing the pacific alone takes at least 10 hours and then you have any number of connecting flights to get to your final destination.

Because I’ve yet to strike it rich (notice my purposeful insertion of hope here), I have never traveled in first class on one of these trips. Every time I board an international flight and walk past the reclining lounges and see the premiere travelers being handed hot towels, I cringe with jealousy. I fidget over to my economy class seat and stuff myself into the allotted space. At least most airlines have private television screens nowadays so that I can catch up on all the movies that I’ve missed or never heard of.

No matter how good the selection (I caught up with Salt and The Social Network on this last flight), I get bored and cramped. I’m rarely a good sleeper on planes, so I tend to be fully awake and alert. Every baby cry. Every passenger getting up to use the restroom. I experience them all. I wish planes could travel faster.

Being in Laos, where I currently write from, I experienced the most taxing one-way journey of my life. I boarded a minivan and was driven for 10 hours through the Northern Laotian mountains at high speed. They literally pass out plastic bags before departure should your stomach not be able to keep up with the engine. There is a flight that goes the same distance, but it’s expensive and we’re in high season. Unfortunately, there is no way to get out of this place other than by the same method in reverse. This time we’re doing a “VIP bus ride.” I’ll let you know if that’s any different than the minivan.

PHYSICAL BURDEN

This provides a perfect segue into the physical toll that travel can have on your body. I recently wrote about injuring my knee, but I’m talking about more than that here. Sitting still for extended periods of time in cramped spaces is hardly what our limbs were designed to do. Walking for extended periods while carrying huge backpacks (and in my case extra bags of camera gear) is not what my back tells me it wants either. On each trip I take, my feet suffer greatly from blisters and dry skin.

Don’t even get me started about the stomach ailments, air pollution, and coughing/sneezing/runny nosing that is almost certain to accompany your voyage. The desire for a steaming hot shower can be overwhelming. I know- even I’m sick of hearing myself complain. But on some of the trips I’ve taken, it has dawned on me that I am lucky to have two working feet and ankles that can make it through almost anything. I’d rather try a new food and honor my hosts’ hospitality than decline in order to avoid getting sick. After all, I got to borrow from The Devil Wears Prada and repropagate a familiar quote recently by declaring “I’m only one bout of Delhi Belly away from my goal weight.”

The consequential weight loss while on the road is something I could never achieve if I was home actually trying to shed a few pounds, so at least that’s a plus. I also enjoy the pride I feel when I’ve successfully gotten to another country with all my bags and bones still intact. My legs get more toned and my arms seems to more easily swing my massive pack into it’s familiar position behind an ever-stronger shoulder.

Did I mention I also am severely allergic to mosquito bites? Enough with my complaining. Travel means moving- and moving your body takes work. If the travel I am doing does not involve swaying on a hammock (which I’ve really got to learn to incorporate more), then I can’t be surprised when I am physically exhausted at the tail end of a trip.

POVERTY

If the last section was about the physical toll on your body, then this section is about the toll that travel takes on your mind. My current journey and revisit to the land of Nepal sunk this message home more than ever.

When visiting the third world, there are many things you might expect to see- but many more that you can never be prepared for. Malnutrition, illness, and poverty are words on paper to most of us in the Western Hemisphere. Sometimes we watch the history channel or read about wars in books. Seeing these people and the ravages of nature and government is a lesson that no television screen or history book will ever adequately capture.

There are so many lessons to learn while witnessing the results of poverty. The most obvious is just how little it takes to make a difference- a simple smile can change lives. Looking more inward, there is also an immediate sense of appreciation for the joys that our own privileged lives provide us. We fight about silly things back home. We wage culture wars at a time when some people are living in real ones. Entire populations and their offspring are on the other side of the planet suffering and we are quick to complain if our latte isn’t extra hot.

These latter elements of travel are the ones that aren’t often pictured on the cover of Lonely Planet Travel Guides. The destinations many of us grew up dreaming of going to aren’t filled with killing fields, destitute families, and children who appear half their age because they’ve never eaten a proper meal.

Something in my soul continues to guide me towards these communities, however- those who are ignored or don’t know how to get featured on the evening news back home. I bring my camera in the hope that their faces will touch the hearts of my friends and family. And though I know that they have irreversibly changed my life, sometimes I hate to see their pain. I leave knowing that I will return to a different place- full of amenities and things that are so easily taken for granted. It takes me a long time to heal when I get back into my safe place and begin to process all that my eyes have seen. And it’s hard.

IT’S ALL WORTH IT

It would be inappropriate to have this post stand on it’s own as part of a travel blog. It’s easy to complain about the things that make travel hard. Sometimes people don’t talk about them. Sometimes it seems ungrateful to write such things while being in countries others only dream they could visit.

I will happily cramp myself into a minivan for 10 hours in order to witness the sunset on the Mekong River. I will endure freezing cold showers for weeks at a time so that I can see the faces of the children in Nepal whom I love more than I can express. Four connecting flights and three sicknesses will not keep me away from experiencing the truly amazing food that is in Thailand.

Let me drive home my point by saying this: Getting to see amazing things on this planet is certainly a luxury. But it’s not always easy.

##  I’d love to read your comments on this one. Are there particular things that make travel difficult for you? What elements of travel (if any) make a trip not worth it?  Write in the comment section below with your thoughts…##

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Mina looks on as I film, courtesy Heartbeats

In some cases, I enjoy this distance as it allows me to avoid facing truth. In the case of poverty, I am especially well-trained at maintaining a professional distance from the faces on the other side of the lens. If I spend too much time thinking about the stories and the pain that exist, my all-encompassing sense of empathy would prevent me from getting the job done. Such is the life of a documentarian.

For the first time in my memory, I had to walk away from the camera this week. After spending 7 days filming the beautiful children that participated in the Heartbeats Foundation Music Center program that is the subject of my current documentary, I was apparently in complete denial. I could look through the lens of my video camera and lovingly capture the moving images of these beautiful children without hesitation.

When it came time for the members of the Heartbeats group to leave yesterday, it all changed. The children had been inspired by music and were deeply saddened at the news that their new friends from America were going to leave. We expected tears, but I personally did not expect Mina.

Helen & Mina, photo courtesy Heartbeats Foundation

I happened to be pointing my camera in that same direction but when I had adjusted my settings and pressed record and then looked into the lens, I had to walk away. I simply could not distant myself any longer.

My dear and amazing colleague Noam stepped in for me, the cameras kept rolling, and I went into a corner and sobbed. The unfortunate repercussion of the lens preventing me from seeing the truth was that I was very suddenly struck with just how profound the week’s activities were. How massive an impact Heartbeats had made in just a short time. I was literally overwhelmed with emotion and had to step outside my professional self and allow my true and emotional self the opportunity to see with my own eyes.

I am so privileged to meet these children. To inspire them and be inspired in return. I will never know their truth, and no matter how fantastic a filmmaker I set out to be, I know that my lens will never be able to convey just how special they are. It is only with my heart and my eyes that I can truly experience their magic.

I hope that what my lens captures will be enough to have you all know that there are a group of kids that exist on the other side of the world that are so full of love and music that no lens will ever be able to show you. Please just take my word and know that I am grateful for the opportunity I have been given by Heartbeats to witness their magic with my own eyes.

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One of my favorite things about Gramoo was her love of travel. She was a globe-trotter before it became cool. I loved visiting her and hearing her stories and exploring her home that could have easily been confused for a world art museum. With all its artifacts and treasures from her travels, that home and those stories is exactly the model I’ve always grown up aspiring to. One of the pieces that seemed central to the tracking of her journey was a special world map that she had taped to the wall of her office. When she passed away, I asked the rest of my family if I could keep the map. They graciously agreed.

Since her passing, I’ve safely kept the folded map in a drawer in my home. Every once in a while I would bring it out and tell a houseguest about the magic person that was my grandmother. I’d point to the little red circles I’d made on the map when I inherited it to mark the places that my grandmother had been. I longed to frame the map, mount it on cork board and display it with my own pins- taking special note of the times in my travels that I was overlapping terrain my own Gramoo had once visited. I also take special glee in the spaces and marks that I get to make that are my own.

With the nudge of some special people in my life who on accident inspired me to take the framing of this map into my own hands, I recently crossed #4 off My Life To Do List, Frame my grandmother’s world map.” I love that the map is actually older than I am, having been printed by National Geographic in 1981. It still shows Czechoslovakia as one country! Until I have that fantastic home with all the artifacts from around the world, I will gladly display this map and the few trinkets I’ve collected along my own journey.

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The gig is simply amazing. A six month contract to travel around North America capturing film, photography, and travel reviews about what it’s like to be a Gay Traveler in each location I visit. This would obviously be an amazing fit for me as I’ve been unofficially doing this work for years now! What a ridiculous dream it would be if someone actually paid me to do it!

The amazing news is, I’m a finalist! Gaytravel.com chose 8 individuals (4 women and 4 men) to compete in the final leg of the race, if you will. Accordingly, they will be flying us all to Las Vegas at the end of this month to film, photograph and blog and show them what we can do!

I am really excited about this opportunity and am definitely spending a ton of time and energy setting up the trip before I get there. All of my years working at GLAAD, traveling, filming, and understanding how produce will be put to use. I can’t wait!

Check back here on www.journeywithjanelle.com between August 29-September 1st to get updates on the competition and news about whether or not I win. Wish me luck!

UPDATE: I did not get crowned the Gay Travel Guru, but my dear friend and incredibly talented colleague, Nick Vivion claimed the well-deserved crown. He’ll be galavanting about North America for the next six month and you should check out www.gaytravel.com to follow his travels.

I am excited to also announce that I AM working with the fantastic company behind the competition on some other exciting projects and feel inspired by the opportunity.

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Elissa & I present our research

When I am in the Queer community, doing work on behalf of LGBTQ equality, I proudly announce that I am a practicing Jew. That I have no qualms with my religion and it has no qualms with me. I want to break the stigma that you can’t be religious or spiritual and also be gay.

Similarly, when I am working in the Jewish world, I am proudly open about the fact that I am gay. My home synagogue knows I am gay- and my straight rabbi there recently spoke from the bimah or raised platform in front of the congregation about his demands for equality. Every day that I go to work at the Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles, my colleagues embrace me and my partner- who also works here.

It is rare that I am surrounded by a majority of LGBTQ Jews. When I do- it’s like a special home; a rare treat. Twice this summer, I have participated in conferences that have surrounded me with LGBTQ Jews from around the world.

This past weekend, I presented at the World Congress of LGBT Jews at UCLA with a dear colleague and friend of mine, Elissa Barratt. I was proud to conduct a survey of young LGBTQ Jewish women and share our results to an invested crowd.

A picture of Elissa and I leading the session ended up being the featured picture of a recent feature in the Jewish Journal and our research and presentation is also mentioned in the attached article.

Check it out: CLICK HERE TO READ

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It’s important to note that I have met Ms. Ensler on at least three other occasions, though this time I wasn’t crying and bumbling through my attempt to thank her for inspiring me. In fact, I was tres calm and simply thankful for the entire experience.

You see, 7 years ago I walked into an auditorium at UC Irvine greeted by 400 people that had just experienced my production of Eve Ensler’s “The Vagina Monologues” in Orange County, California. At the time the Orange County Register wouldn’t print an article about the show because of the “V-word” in its title.  It was with this show that I secured my future as a social activist, artist, and fundraiser.

This Valentine’s Day, I walked onto the same campus greeted by 1000 attendees and the playwright/activist herself. I was invited to attend the show by Jacob Knobel, a remarkable young man who took over running the show after I graduated. Jacob came to me almost 4 years ago to ask me about my experience and talk to me about his vision of V-Day UCI going forward. I was impressed by his enthusiasm for a theaterical production that was not part of his major (he studied engineering) and for a subject matter which was not part of his anatomy.

Little did I know that this young strapping gentleman would elevate V-Day UCI to a level I never thought possible. He guided generations of girls through the incredible production process, empowered new leaders, and though he’s graduated and moved to Northern California, he still returns every year to make sure that the show is a success.

This year, Jacob was joined (and thanked publicly) by the woman that inspired us all. Eve Ensler decided to spend her 2010 Valentine’s Day at UC Irvine as part of this year’s fundraiser. She announced to the appreciative crowd that Jacob was “one of the best V-men that we have.” I couldn’t agree more. His parents could not make it to the show, but I was gleaming with enough pride for all of us.

After watching the show, hearing the stories of women around the world who’ve experienced violence, and then Eve sharing the story of her recent personal journey while in the Democratic Republic of Congo, I realized that I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by all the discussion of rape, incest, genocide, genital mutilation… all the gross stuff that no one wants to talk about but V-Day confronts full frontal. I stood up during the question and answer period and asked Eve how she avoids becoming numb to each individual and horrific story. How she avoids feeling overwhelmed by how great the problem is.

Eve Ensler, my ever-present mentor suddenly was giving me advice. Not the advice that I gleaned from her writing but the advice that I had actually stood before her (and 999 other people) and asked for. Suddenly I was having a conversation with my guide. She talked about how difficult this can be sometimes, that she didn’t always succeed in remaining micro when the macro seemed to glare. As she collected her words she simply said “stay present in each moment and focus on the individual in front of you.” So obvious but just so true.

Thankfully I got to hang with Eve for a short moment after the show and after the adoring crowd got their books and programs signed by the ever-gracious guest of honor. She thanked me for bringing the show to the school in the first place and we laughed about the fact that I’m usually such a mess whenever I meet her. We then commented on how excited it was that the newspaper that originally wouldn’t’ print the name of her show had chosen this year’s production as one of the top two “things to do” on Valentine’s Day.

Amazing, really.

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In just the few short years since I left, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of working on not one… not two… but THREE films featuring LGBT content and filmmakers. I am incredibly humbled and honored to be alongside such talented artists and technicians. It’s amazing the bravery and vulnerability they all show each day they show up to work to tell these stories.

Given the talent involved, I was completely unsurprised when I found out that two of the films I worked on (the third being in post-production right now) called A Marine Story and Elena Undone were headliners at this year’s Outfest Film Festival in Los Angeles.

I was completely floored however when I was nominated to head up the Outfest Legacy Awards this fall and make an even greater contribution to the LGBT filmmaking world by protecting the images and stories in this canon of film for generations to come. If you live in Los Angeles and are interested in attending or joining me at my table… please inquire within.

In the mean time, I was asked by www.gaytravel.com (an incredible new website and social networking site which I highly recommend becoming a part of ) to share my thoughts about why I think Outfest (and therefore LGBT filmmaking in general) is important. Here are my thoughts:

Why is Outfest important?

- Because cultural change happens in our living rooms and around the dining room table, not in ballot boxes
- Because the diversity of our complex community and its allies is rarely even touched on in entertainment- so having a bevy of options celebrating that diversity is a rare treat
- Because some of the most talented filmmakers in the business are members of the LGBT community and they make good work!
- Because creating a legacy of moving images that tell stories that have the capacity to change hearts and minds is invaluable

Why am I involved?
- As a filmmaker and storyteller, I care how my life and the lives of my friends are portrayed
- Because I believe that film and television can reach beyond borders and walls and this is the way that I choose to create change
- Because the talented pool of individuals that are showcased this year are often undersupported and overlooked in the wider entertainment arena and it is my pleasure to be part of giving them their well-deserved spotlight

Why should you be involved?
- Because it’s one of the only places that you will get to see many of these films on the big screen
- Because your financial support in the form of movie tickets will actually go to a cause you can be proud of- encouraging more LGBT films and filmmakers to keep making incredible work!
- Because they throw amazing parties

I threw a lot of stuff out there, so here are the links for follow up items:

1. To learn more about the 2010 Outfest Film Festival, Click HERE
2. To purchase tickets to one of the films I worked on, click HERE:
(A MARINE STORY)
(ELENA UNDONE)
3. To learn more about the 2010 Outfest Legacy Awards, click HERE
4. To learn more about GLAAD, click HERE
5. To join me on Gay Travel’s incredible network, click HERE

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The voting starts all over, and we find out soon if I made the top 20!

From there its a round of phone interviews. Then I might make the top 10.

Then I’d have to create another video. Then they choose two people for the gig.

A long process… but well worth it! Thanks for your continuing support and remember to VOTE!

Here’s the link: http://www.worldtravelerinternship.com/member/janelle-eagle/

Love!

Janelle

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I was introduced to a lovely woman through a mutual friend back in February of 2010. Immediately upon saying hello, it became clear we weren’t really paying attention to the “business” that our mutual friend had brought us together to discuss. I did ask for her phone number (rather I stole it from my friend’s phone). In fact, I texted her “here’s my phone number. use it to ask me out sometime.”

I think that counts, right? Either way, I’m crossing off #77: Ask someone for their phone number, call it, and ask for a date.

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The Program that started it all

The young version of myself was constantly active, athletic, and though I had an aversion to brussel sprouts, I was healthy. When the D.A.R.E. program came to my school, I was singled out to lead the Pledge of Allegiance at our “graduation ceremony” because of my vocal support of a drug and alcohol free childhood. An overachiever, a daughter a parent could be proud of, I even sang in the temple’s choir. I was by no means a “bad kid” that was caught by the principal smoking behind the bleachers. In fact, I didn’t even pick up the habit until I was in college.

Like many impressionable young people, I started with what seemed like a noncigarette. It was a CIGAR. Eventually I slid over to clove cigarettes, thinking that a couple a day was something that cool artsy college kids did. Eventually I was hooked on the inhale, switched to regular cigarettes, and was suddenly something that “little girl Janelle” would be ashamed of: a Smoker.

Now let me stop here for a second and give a little love to those people in my life who are smokers. I hate how shame and smoking are so linked. Quitting is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. No one will be able to tell you how to stop. You’ll get there on your own if you want to, promise. I am writing this article simply to share my own story. Find your own way and go for it! You can do it!

And to all the loved ones out there that have a smoker in their life… Let me speak solely from my own experience. It never helped when someone attempted to guilt me into stopping. It never helped when someone gave me an ultimatum. I hated it when people would pass by and say “that’ll kill you, you know.” I never understood this as a child and publicly announce to the world an apology to my father for all the guilt trips; they probably only made his journey harder.

They say it takes the average smoker at least 10 attempts before s/he stops smoking. Oftentimes, a smoker may stop for a while and then may revisit their nasty habit when life’s larger obstacles rear their ugly heads (i.e. Death in the family, layoffs, etc.). I have attempted to quit the nasty habit a number of times, usually lasting at least of couple of weeks before I stopped. One of the attempts that lasted the longest was when I got an extremely severe lung infection that landed me in a hospital emergency room twice in one week. If you think that would stop me… you’ve probably never been a smoker.

I stopped for a while and then eventually went to a bar and thought “I’ll have just one.” Suddenly I’d be back in my groove and the habits would start again. I would wake up, smoke a cigarette. I would get ready for my day, get in the car, and light up. I’d eat my meals, have a cig, and then do it all over again the next day. My friends smoke. All the bars in Los Angeles that I frequent have built in smoking patios.While I have a strong spirit and am capable of dedicating myself to a goal, the familiarity of my life culture and smoking was too great for me overcome.

Me on the balcony formerly known as "The Smoking Balcony"

Eventually, I knew myself well enough to know that if I tried to become a casual smoker, I’d get looped back into my habits eventually. My routine in Los Angeles was so tied to when and where I lit up that I didn’t know how to enjoy my balcony’s sunset view of the Hollywood Hills without a cigarette in my hand. I even called the locale my “smoking balcony.” Having a beer in one hand automatically meant having a cigarette in the other. It seemed I didn’t even know how to live in Los Angeles without a pack of cigarettes. Every time I would leave town with the intention to quit, I’d come back to Los Angeles and light up again. My home seem inextricably linked to a habit I hated.

My brother Jason, unimpressed by a two week non-smoking stint that I was bragging about, mentioned to me once that “It takes 90 days to make a habit and 90 days to break one.” Always game to prove my brother wrong, I was heartbroken when I couldn’t get to that goal time and time again. Never one to give up though, I decided to add it to the Life to Do List, and thus entered #18: “Do not smoke a cigarette, not even one, for at least 90 days.”

About to light up in Bali

What finally allowed me to cross #18 off the List was a two-month trip around the world. Travel is not only my passion, it’s where I am in my groove. On this particular extended trip, I was out of my familiar surroundings long enough to break all of my habits. This was not the case in August 2008 when I traveled to Bali for 10 days (along with a carton of cigarettes). I smoked the entire time and hate that many of my travel pictures include me with a cigarette in my mouth.

On this trip, I knew I was lucky to be traveling in the first place. I knew that I would be viewing sites and meeting people that would change me. I had plenty to distract me. Nothing would be familiar, so habits weren’t applicable. It seemed like a perfect excuse to stop.

I fumbled quite a few times when I first got to Nepal simply because I hadn’t mentally “let go” of my habit. My local guide and dear friend in Bhaktapur is a smoker. Being around him while he smoked was a tease, so I lit up with him a couple of times in the spirit of camaraderie (or so I told myself). Slowly but surely during the month I lived in Nepal, I smoked less and less. I left that beautiful country on November 1st for India, smoking only twice during the five days I was in town. I enjoyed neither cigarette that I had and mentally felt the moment where I was done. On November 5th, 2009, I left India for Europe and left my smoking habit behind.

Today, the 3rd of February marks 90 days cigarette free. It was hard to come back to Los Angeles, but as soon as everyone got used to being around me without a cig in my hand (and I got used to not smoking while others did), it became markedly easier. I learned to love the Hollywood Hills view even more without the cigarette. It is still hard to not smoke when I am drinking, but I choose to focus on the company I keep or the music playing instead of how bad I want a cigarette at that bar. The longer I go without smoking, the easier it gets. Now I’m more used to not smoking than the opposite.

For those of you wishing to get inspired to stop smoking, feel free to adapt my story to work for you. There are a couple of disclaimers that are relevant (especially because I believe we all have our own journey):

1. You need to have a lifestyle that allows you to GET OUT OF TOWN! You need to be gone long enough (and far enough) so that your habits are broken. Any other big life change or move might actually be a perfect excuse (new apartment? new city?)/

2. Instead of saying “I will quit smoking,” consider the 90 day option instead. I may light up again in the future, but knowing that I’ve already gone this long makes me think its unlikely.

3. I had supportive friends and family that didn’t make me feel like I’d be a failure if I didn’t make it. They congratulated me along the way but didn’t pressure me.

4. I refused to bring cigarettes with me and none of the countries I was traveling in were going to carry my brand. I’m pretty loyal, so this was a big advantage. (If you travel to Europe, the sticker shock of extremely expensive cigarettes also makes it easy to pass up)

A Travel Picture sans smoke!

5. There were some advantages to my European travels that made it easier for me to stop. I was constantly moving, traveling by train to a new city at least once ever three days. Nothing was habitual. Focus on catching the next train or tour rather than the location of the closest smoke shop.

If you have any of these options, take them. Getting to see the world is a wonderful side effect of crossing this item off the list. I had the time of my life and got healthier at the same time. Not to mention, I think I look much better in my vacation pictures without a cigarette in my hand!

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