We attended our first couch surfing meetup in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Since we have never attended this type of gathering before, we did not know what to expect.

We walked into the little restaurant and were waved over to a larger group right away. I guess we do not blend in as much as we would like to.

That night we met so many interesting people, coming from every different kind of background, with their own unique story to share.

Sitting down and talking with complete strangers was really a fun and inspiring experience. With all the travel information, advice, and stories shared, I must share this one particular random conversation.

New friend: Where are you from?

Me: Colorado, USA.

New friend: Is it nice?

Me: Yes, beautiful, although it is cold and snowing as we speak.

New friend: Ah, no wonder you are so white, you must have just come from winter.

Me: I actually have been traveling for three months now, in this sun. I am tan.

New friend: No you are not tan, putting his arm next to mine and pointing to his arm, this is tan.

Me: I have burned, peeled, slowly developed a base, and gained massive amounts of freckles. This is tan… for me.

New friend: So, you are telling me that your skin can be whiter than this?

Me: Yes. This is the darkest I have been in ten years.

New friend: How can your white skin get any whiter?

Me: Trust me, I have freckles. This is tan. White can get a whole lot whiter.

New friend: Okay. (then pointing to Thad) Is he white or tan?

Me: Tan.

New friend: Oh.

I will remember this random conversation for a very long time to come. Quite possibly because anything lately dealing with my skin strikes a sensitive nerve. Humorous, to say the least, comparing skin color, but what is not funny is how I spent that entire day taking cold showers and freezing inside an air-conditioned building, trying to get rid of the heat rash I acquired…for the third time.

We hung out for several hours that night, while my skin was slowly starting to get worse in the heat and humidity. I was about ready to rip off my skin before we all parted ways.

To add salt to my wounds, I was stung the previous day by some type of insect. I tried to pull the barbed stinger out unsuccessfully, and resorted to scrapping it out with my fingernail. By that night, my hand was nearly double the size from inflammation, and itchy as hell. Like stated previously, I am currently a little sensitive about my skin.