I found Joy in Bangkok, at a coffee shop, in a soi off of Thanon Pra Athit, a young man about my age, maybe a year older. 

While all of the other waiters showered attention upon me, he was slow to open up. They said I was a curiosity to them. Not Thai, but not farang. Most were lightly chatty. But Joy was different. 

It took awhile, but after some time he spoke to me. His first words... "You and me look same-same. You look same-same like Thai people." 

I had to smile at that. Just the night before, I'd seen a tee shirt at the night market. A red tee with thick white letters on the front that read: Same-Same. At the time I'd wondered what that meant. I kind of had an idea of it's meaning now. 

At first Joy apologized to me for not knowing English so much. I only smiled and apologized for not knowing Thai at all. I think that broke the ice, because an hour later, I'd learned much about this young man.

I learned that in fact, we were not same-same, and that besides our age and profession, we had very few in common. The life of an average Thai is unlike anything that I thought I understood. It wasn't until after I found Joy that I realized where the line of similarities was drawn, and where a world of difference began.

Joy was a baby when his papa died. He and his sister were raised by his mama and her family in a northern province of Thailand called Isan. At the age of 14, Joy moved into the city, 9 hours away from his home, to find work.

"I'm not a student," he told me. He'd never finished school. For ten years he worked at whatever jobs he could find. On the streets of Bangkok at first, and eventually working from dishwasher to cook to waiter. For 3 bucks a day, six days a week, Joy is just barely able to pay for himself and his family and make enough for them to live.

The only time off he has to go home and visit them is once a year during a five day Buddhist festival. He drives the 9 hours home by motorbike, and drinks away his time-off with his family and friends, before heading back into Bangkok to work for 72 bucks a month.

His sister managed to somehow move to France, the details were intentionally vague, but she got pregnant there, and returned home to Thailand with a half-farang baby, and without a husband.

In the middle of our conversation, I began to wonder how much of Joy's story was the truth, and how much of it was embellished to gain the sympathy of just another well off visitor. But I eventually realized it was just a conversation between two people who, at first glance, looked the same. Nothing more, just a conversation for comparison.

Joy pointed to one of his fellow workmates who walked by, "She is from Bangkok. She is a student, lives with her mama and papa. Me and her are not same-same." And there it was again. His simple phrase to compare the situations of two very different people. 

I began to understand what he meant. In this world you may find someone whom, on the surface, may seem to be the same as you are. But if you scratch a little deeper, you'll find a world of difference.

We finished our conversation on the topic of politics. Joy told me of the Thai Prime Minister, Taksin, who is currently instituting new laws that will alter the face of Bangkok. This was a concern for Joy. It meant a lot of change for his work future. "If no work, than only die. If I die... family die." There was definitely a deep sadness in his tone. 

I wanted so much to tell Joy that his family would be taken care of. But I couldn't. I walked away from the coffee shop hit with the realization that I was in a world that I didn't yet understand. I knew that I would seem simple minded in my presumptions.

I made my way back to the market place to find that red shirt. It was still there, dark with thick white letters on the front that spelled out: Same-Same. When the lady took it down, I turned it around. On the back it read: But Different.

I left Bangkok that night, six years ago, without being able to tell Joy that things would turn out alright and that he and his family would someday find security. But when I go back to Bangkok, maybe I can find Joy again.

Coming Up: "Drifter Profiles" is a monthly series, so if you enjoyed this profile, don't forget to subscribe by e-mail or RSS feed.

And now we ask you: When you first meet someone, what are some things in common that you may initially look for? What are some of the first differences that you notice?

It's true, when you are traveling, there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. But especially at the beginning of the trip, feelings like these can be trying, and all the more so for those of us who are extremely social by nature.  

I do not claim to be an expert on the matter, but the question posed raised a lot of thoughts in my mind. In my small opinion, here are just 3 tips that I've found helpful when dealing with those occasional feelings of loneliness. 

Tip #1, Stay in Touch with the Tribe at Home

Granted, it can be hard. After 3 days of sloshing your way through a muddy rainforest with a 45 lb. sack of useless junk on your back, the last thing you can think of doing is phoning home, but remember, even though E.T. had some great adventures out on his own, making new friends and going places on flying bicycles, he never lost sight of the importance of staying in touch. 

Personally, I know it seems easier to put whatever is going on at home on pause, just disconnect, or let it all go. But often times, when you've been out on the road alone and you're starting to feel lonely, you might look around and begin to think you're surrounded by strangers who don't even see you, let alone care about you. 

Of course, that's probably not how these people really feel about you, (we'll get back to that later), but even if that's true, don't forget that there is still a whole tribe of friends, family and followers back at home all rooting for you and your safe return. In fact, they're probably wondering where you are, whether or not you made it to Ulaanbataar from St. Petersburg alive, and why on EARTH haven't they heard from you yet. Dropping your home fans a little e-mail, (or Twitter, Skype, Facebook 'em, whatever...), and hearing from them in response, will remind you that there are people in this world who see you and really care about you. 

Tip #2, Entertain Yourself & Be Creative  

An idle mind can play some wicked tricks on you, so you need to keep it busy. Bring a book, preferably a really fat one, but 'interesting' is probably a more important prerequisite of its contents, something that will keep you company, talk to you on those lonely nights and fill in during those inevitable down times when you feel like you've done every possible activity within a 50 mile radius. 

Often times globe drifters will leave a trail of books behind them, trading off reading material with other travelers as they cross paths trekking around the planet. Some cafes, libraries or hostels will have a little shelf for fair trade offs where you can take a book for free if you leave one behind. Of course, err on the safe side and ask before swapping. 

If you really can't imagine burying your head in words when you just paid thousands of dollars to leave school behind, then get creative, put your mind to work in other ways. Pick up a sketchbook and a set of graphic pencils, or a watercolor set to record your visual experiences in slow time. Invest in a little digital camera and sign up for a Flickr account. Write! Moleskin notepads have a way of inspiring the inner journalist in us all. Some globe drifters will bring a small guitar, or learn an instrument. In whatever way you see fit, keep that little mind of yours moving. The last thing you need is for it to be so bored with itself that it tries to bury you in an imaginary world of solitary confinement while your standing at the foot of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

And finally, Tip #3, Connect, Connect, Connect

Reach out! To other travelers, to the locals, to the stray dog that won't stop following you to your beach hut on Boracay. It may be difficult, especially if you're pretty reserved by nature. You may even look around and wonder, “Why isn't anyone talking to me?” Chances are, they may be thinking the same thing. But personally, I think the biggest help in dispelling all feelings of loneliness is  reaching out and connecting with those around you.

Don't be afraid of the locals! Even if you can't speak the language, don't hesitate to try and communicate, you'd be surprised at how much you can get across by using sign language and sound effects. In general, the locals you meet will be curious about you and where you are from, and they will try their best to make sure you leave their area with a positive impression.

I've also found that staying in places where there is a common area for people to meet, i.e. hostels or hostel-type areas, is a great way to connect with other travelers. And these don't have to be dirty, dark places, there's lots of clean, safe and perfectly located budget accommodations with great online reviews. Talk to the old-timers there, they're the ones sitting behind the check-in desk playing cards with the staff, ask them where they've been in the area and what they've done. Welcome the newbies, and invite some of the interesting ones out on short trips around the area with you. And if you're part of a global social group, look if there's a chapter in the part of the world where you're in. Make connections, you can always take a break from the social stuff and find yourself a nice quiet spot whenever you want, after all you are ultimately traveling solo.

And if all else fails, you could always adopt that stray dog for the time being.

And now we'd like to ask you: How do you deal with the occasional bouts of loneliness when traveling or with life in general?

Every day I wake up and tell myself that I will sit down and write. But every night I come home, turn on the computer, load up a fresh new Microsoft Word page, and then proceed to stare at a blinking cursor for a half hour. I may get down a few sentences, or just a couple. But most of the time it remains a blank page with nothing more but a blinking cursor, reminding me that my head is full but my fingers frozen.

I've even dropped money on a book with daily writing excercises. I was out in field service the day that it came in. Cressentia and Daisy left to go on a bible study, and I was left alone in the car for a full 45 minutes. My mind wandered from my ministry into the world of writing as I skimmed through the book's fresh and crisp pages. I read chapter by chapter the art of writing, specifically the art of travel writing. But I have yet to make application of the things I read on that day.

And so here I am now, setting up a 'blog', of which I have no idea what it's use is for. I guess I will find out once I hit the post button. I really don't know what to expect. It feels as if I am standing on a pathway that splits off into two directions. Perhaps this first entry may be the start of a wonderful and lasting 'blog' relationship. Or perhaps I will hit post, click the x on the top right hand corner of this window and never see these words again, leaving them free to float around for an eternity until they fade away into an electronic 'blog' oblivion.

Whichever way this post button takes me, I hope that years down the road from now I will have known, understood and attained the essence of blog.

Please standby...