The End of the World

It occurred to me that we spend so much of our lives learning to be independent, unique individuals that we've lost touch with the concept of collective growth. However, we still feel it. That insatiable void that exists in everybody at some point in their life comes from the desire to be a part of something bigger than yourself. In ancient times, without electricity to cause light pollution in the night sky, people were reminded every night of our place in the universe. It was obvious that we are quite literally part of something much bigger. Naturally, various schools of thought emerged all across the planet. These evolved into our first religions. People could confirm their beliefs simply by looking up. The Mayans were only one civilization among numerous others who's entire culture revolved around the cosmos. And contrary to all the 2012 mumbo jumbo, the end of the Mayan calendar does not mean the end of the world. It simply marks the end of an era -- the end of an actual astronomical cycle. The implications of this are obviously a topic of debate.

Nowadays, as religions evolve to accommodate our ever changing condition, they are put through an arsenal of tests. For most of us, it has become increasingly rare to get a clear glympse at a seemingly infinite night sky. And with so many things to distract us in our daily lives, it can seem impossible to make time to set a space and look inward. Questions of existence are therefore much harder to address, if we think to ask them at all. Faith is far from dead, but because it feels more and more like blind belief, we find ourselves searching for a more tangible purpose. As living beings, we inherently feel the need to reproduce to ensure the survival of our species. That's something. Yet even that is becoming more and more concerning. Our planet is not equipped to handle even our current population for long at the rate we are unnecessarily stripping it of it's resources. But we still make babies. We hope that they will do something significant with their lives, the way our parents hoped it for us. And the cycle continues, however detetched we may feel.

What exactly is this significance we hope to achieve? We know problems exist, at every level. Some of us take a personal stand, or join movements, or become politicians, to fight for what we believe in. Most of us though, go about our daily lives, laughing or cursing at the news, debating with friends and colleagues, hoping for some positive change to happen. Individuality is debilitating in that regard, for what impact could the average person possibly have on the faith of a country, much less our planet?

Well, a lot. A group cannot exist without individuals. A movement cannot happen without a cause. A country cannot thrive without the support of its people. So what if we bridged the gap between the individual and immediate national and global impact? What if we were confident that our voices were being heard, and that it resulted in immediate action? And what if we didn't have to compromise anything to be a part of this?

We have the tools, at least for now. And this is already a reality. Discover sites like www.avaaz.org and www.accessnow.org then spread the word. The cost is nothing. The reward, a little meaning to your day.

Happy End-of-the-World Day!

E.T.

Although this motorcycle adventure takes me far off the beaten path, it always brings me back to civilization to sleep. I find that I'm always happy to find an internet connection. It's strange to spend days in parts that have barely had electricity for a decade, then to spend those same nights connecting with people across the planet. It's also strange being an outsider. I'm not just a foreigner here. Each town and village has a market much like the one in Disney's Aladdin. Whenever I walk through one, it's like I'm a travelling circus act. Everyone stares shamelessly like they've only ever heard of creatures like me. I'm pretty sure that being bald adds a great deal to my entertainment value. Even the oldest people have a full head of hair around here, and there are a lot of old people. Many point and make some comment in Vietnamese, then openly laugh at me -- or the idea of me, I'm not really sure. Others shout "hello!" Some come up and grab my hand. Some gesture for pictures to be taken. One lady came up and started rubbing my head (she's the random lady in my photos). Kids usually smile and wave. All in all, it feels pretty friendly, so even in the discomfort inherent in feeling like an alien, it's a good time.

My favorite reaction to me so far was from a kid who couldn't have been more than 4. He was walking along the road with his kid brother who was half his size. That, in and of itself, made me smile. But as soon as he noticed me riding by, he jumped and yelled, "hello!" flailing his arms in the air. His mini mini-me immediately followed suit. It was like a scene out of a Pixar movie. It was amazing to me the age at which these kids learn to recognize foreigners and know what to say at that moment to provoke a response. 

City Sushi

So I got to talking to my guide about the Chinese and he started to laugh. He spouted out a bunch of Chinese sounding words in mockery of their language, then said, "Ha! Can't undastand a wud. Unberievabo!"

That was the highlight of my day.

City Sushi Reference

Vietnam, Phở k'Yeah!

Everything I read and heard about Vietnam before I got here had me pretty worried. It was my understanding that I would be constantly swarmed by people trying to get at my money. It would be worse than Thailand and it would be hard to get a break anywhere. I arrived prepared to face it head on.

Well, so far, not much of that at all. The scooter taxi drivers and other street vendors accept "no" for an answer the first time around, and they smile. They're more lazy than invasive. I've only been tricked out of a couple dollars, and like my fishing adventure in Cambodia, it was more entertaining than anything else. 

The Vietnamese women have much more charm and appeal than those of any of the other countries I've been on this trip. The food is better also. Phở for $1.25? Yes, please. Other options are just as yummy. People are friendly and helpful. The country's climate and geography are diverse, offering a wide range of things to do. It's home to Ha Long Bay, one of the "New Seven Wonders of Nature." I haven't been yet but it's on the agenda. There is obviously some pretty mind blowing history between Vietnam and the US; however, I was surprised to discover that there is still a lot of evidence of it. In any case, I am a giant fan of Vietnam.

We spent five days in Ho Chi Minh and today was our fifth and final day in Dalat. It's all documented pretty well in the photos so I won't get into it too much here. I will mention a couple noteworthy things though. The traffic in Ho Chi Minh is ridiculous. It's a constant wall of scooters in all directions, at all times, with nothing whatsoever to indicate that traffic regulations exist. The only way to cross the street is to look straight ahead and go. Keep a steady pace and let the traffic work its way around you. 

I gave in to the comfort of home again and went to the movies again. Twice. I saw Wreck-it Ralph in 3D. You should to. We visited the War Remnants Museum and I was shocked to learn the details of the Vietnam War that I wasn't taught in school. It didn't improve my opinion of the leaders of our country. Here in Dalat, I saw a big truck reversing out of a driveway. Instead of beeping, it played the tune of Happy Birthday in a pitch identical to that of an ice cream truck. Today we rode mountain bikes 80 km.

Tomorrow, I'm on my own again. I decided that I need it again. I'm doing a six day motorcycle tour through the central highlands with a personal guide. I'm hoping that it will be the closest thing to the kind of exploring that I've been wanting to do all along. It's all off the beaten path and a guaranteed way to get a real taste of the local culture. There is a good chance that I'll be internet free until it's over.

Le Touriste

This post is long overdue. It seems as though I have lost sight of the intentions I had set for myself on this trip. Thanks to a well placed comment by Salem in response to my last post, I've decided to make a conscious effort to stay focused on my writing. I don't mean on the frequency; I mean on the content. I've gotten so caught up in writing about what I'm doing, that I barely mention how I'm doing, much less why I'm doing.

In the first couple weeks of this trip, I was already beginning to feel like a tourist. This feeling is becoming more and more prominent as the days and weeks go by. Everything I've done so far has been easily accessible. All the activities that I've taken part in were developed to cater to people just like me. It pains me to say that because I pride myself in being different. Sure, I'm having a great time and experiencing new things. I'm extremely grateful to be traveling, but I don't feel like I'm doing it right. There are tens of thousands of backpackers wandering about, just going through the motions. I feel like one of them. I am one of them. At first I was surprised to run into people that I had seen before in other cities or countries, but the reality is that Southeast Asia is a circuit and there are so many people on it that you're bound to bump into some familiar face every now and again.

Being part of the backpacker crowd has been one of the most frustrating things for me. I feel like a giant target every second that I'm in public with my bag on. It's not just a feeling; I am in fact a giant target. I do my best to lose my backpack as quickly as possible any time I get somewhere new. I don't mind the looks I get for being a foreigner -- I've long since gotten used to those from my friends at home. I just smile at people like it's my job, but I feel slightly vulnerable with my backpack on.

Another frustration comes from visiting tourist attractions. The temples at Angkor Wat, for example, would have been much more awe-inspiring had I been alone at the site. Instead, I had to fight for a clear shot every time I wanted a photo, and wait in a crowd at certain narrow passages that created a bottleneck. I like the feeling of discovering something for myself, like I'm uncovering it for the first time, because it helps spark my imagination. This is nearly impossible with so many people around. The crowds also make me feel like I'm on vacation. I do not deserve, nor do I need, a vacation. Anything that makes me feel like I'm on vacation also makes me feel like I'm wasting time; like I've only substituted one set of distractions at home for another set out here. Even blogging about these things feels like I'm writing for the sake of filling white space.

So, purpose is still the name of the game. I left on this trip to explore myself under the influence of foreign stimuli. I created this blog primarily to document the progression of my thoughts. It's in the blog description. This doesn't mean that I'm going to stop writing about what I'm doing. I still want to track where I've been and what I've seen. I will also continue to tell stories about certain things that happen, because those are the building blocks of my experience abroad. You know, there is no substitute for experiencing a broad. Plus, I would really like to maintain this illusion I have that I am funny. In spite of the criticism, I've come to accept that laughing at my own jokes is an inherited and inherent trait. Unfortunately, both of my parents were carriers so there is no escaping it. You can bet that if you laugh at something I've written, I laughed twice as hard when when I wrote it. On the bright(er) side, laughing is both a symptom and a cause of happiness, so I will do it even at the expense of you rolling rolling your eyes.

I am resetting the balance of this blog, to keep it alive. I am extra ordinary in that I, like anyone else, have the capacity to process my experiences and spin a philosophical web from my takeaways. But I am extraordinary because I, like relatively few, am taking it upon myself to put my philosophies into words that can be interpreted and used by anyone; not as some obscure basis for what's right or wrong, but as neutral grounds for stimulating progressive thought.

How's that Mr. XL?

On the Move

After receiving the second email asking if I am still alive, I decided that it's been too long since my last post. I spent over a week in Cambodia and I have yet to write a word about it. I'm in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam right now. In spite of my failure to maintain my online presence, these last couple weeks have felt rather insignificant. It's probably because I haven't given them any meaning by documenting them, that they feel lost in a way. Let's see if I can't change that. I'll do my best to recap without losing your interest.

Bangkok
I spent another two days in Bangkok after my last post. Since I still wasn't feeling 100%, I went back to the part of town that I had discovered in my hunt for a chiropractor the day before. I finally got adjusted, which made an enormous difference, but I stuck around the area because it too had a sort of heeling effect on me. I spent most of my time between a small pastry cafe and the Terminal 21 mall that I mentioned in my last post. The cafe felt like a quaint little European patisserie. Well, almost. It felt like a place trying to feel like a quaint European patisserie, but that was good enough. Especially after having spent so much time in underdeveloped corners of southeast Asia. The mall had a completely different feel of course, since it was all new and modern, but it had a similar effect on me. I can't describe the happy feeling I got wandering around that place. I felt like a kid at an amusement park. I even went to see the new James Bond movie. Popcorn never tasted so good! In hindsight though, I have mixed emotions over the excitement I felt from the comforts of life that I specifically wanted to get away from by leaving home.

At the end of those two days, I was eager to leave the big city. I booked a bus for Siem Reap, Cambodia.

Siem Reap
I chose Siem Reap because it's the closest town to Angkor Wat. I have a relatively new found appreciation for ancient cultures, partly because they seem to have had a much better understanding of what's happening on our planet right now than we do, so I was excited to walk a midst the ruins. I was not disappointed. I mostly wandered slowly, imaging what it would be like to live there during it's prime. There were several areas of the temples that were being restored. That made me cringe a bit. All of the projects that had already been completed were marked with signs with "before and after" pictures. To me, the rubble and authentic deteriorated structures and remains were much more wondrous and impressive than the recreations. And it's not like there are a shortage of temples in tact to visit. I don't understand. It was a great little day trip though. The only thing I would have done differently was sleep the night before.

It turns out that Siem Reap has quite the backpackers' nightlife scene going on. They even named a street Pub Street and labeled it with suspended neon lettering at both ends. Something about it was just too irresistible to stay away. There were other factors too though. I was finally feeling like myself again. And I was spending all my waking daylight hours reading. Come 11 o'clock every night, I was ready to socialize! So I did, and it seriously messed up my sleep schedule. I didn't go to bed before 5 every morning, and never sober. I didn't get out of bed til 5pm one day. I realized that I'm no more fond of wasting days here than I am at home. I had only planned on staying a couple days -- long enough to visit the temples -- and then leave. I ended up staying five because I was never in a condition to take the early bus out. I did meet some very cool people though, notably a bad-ass Irish guy. He was 6'7", 250 lbs, and the nicest dude ever. He was my partner in crime for a couple nights. He brought his tuk tuk driver with him everywhere just for fun. Aside from being hilarious in and of itself, that had it's own benefits. We bought him a few cheap drinks and joked around with him a bit, and he brought us wherever we wanted to go, free of charge. The coolest girls I met were a German and a Canadian, neither of which I exchanged information with or have any photo documentation of, unfortunately. Don't over-analyze that.

That was my Siem Reap experience. Aside from my day at the temples, it was sleep and read by day, party by night. I read two and a half books in those few days which is a record for me. I probably would have stayed longer if on my last day I didn't receive a message from the Dutch girl that I traveled with in Laos. She contacted me in a panic because her wallet and backpack had just been stolen. Coincidentally, she was still in Cambodia, only a twelve hour bus ride away. It was a perfect excuse to break free of the party life and backwards sleep schedule that I had fallen into, neither of which I was genuinely happy with. More importantly though, she had no cash and I was close enough to help out. So I booked the next bus to Sihanoukville where she was staying.

It didn't leave until the following morning so that night I went out once again. I met a French guy and a French girl at dinner. They were sitting at the table next to mine and after a I let a few smiles slip in obvious reaction to their conversation, the girl said to the guy, "il parle francais le bonhomme." She said it in such a way that it was clear that she intended me to hear. I smiled again, and before I knew it, I was joining them for dinner.

These two had an interesting dynamic. The guy was fifty and the girl was twenty-five. They had met on the road a few weeks prior and had spent a couple days together. They happened to run into each other again and were spending a couple more days together. It was strictly platonic. They kind of had a father/daughter relationship going on. Although, it became clear by the end of the night that they didn't share a mutual affection for one another. She was actually something a nuisance to him. Once when she went to the bathroom, he went off to me about how stupid she was. I found it all thoroughly entertaining. Especially since she really enjoyed his company. Anyway, after dinner we stumbled upon a Cambodian wedding that was taking place in the middle of a small street near the restaurant. This was quite the ordeal. Loud, live, terrible, Cambodian music. One big tent with tables and chairs blocking the entire street. Beer and food a plenty. And the best part, every foreigner that stopped to watch or take a picture was invited onto the dance floor and given a drink. Basically, the wedding crashed us. Needless to say, I ended up drunk again. I got in around 3:30, fell asleep around 4:45, got up at 5:15, and as instructed, I was waiting for my bus to come at 5:30. It showed up around 7.

Sihanoukville
I arrived in Sihanoukville after 9pm and took a scooter taxi to the guesthouse where I was greeted with a smile and a hug. She filled me in on exactly what had happened to her. Simple case of neglect really. She was riding a bike and had put her backpack in the front basket. Two guys on a scooter came by, and yoink! Luckily, she had given her passport as a deposit for the bike rental. Still, camera, phone, and wallet gone.

This only solidified her existing contempt for Cambodia. Apparently, she hadn't felt safe anywhere in the country. I assured her that it was no worse than any other country that she had visited on this trip. Despite my better judgement, I also told her that it was only because she let her guard down that she got robbed. The first rule in every guidebook and travel site is to keep your valuables as inaccessible to strangers as possible.

Anyway, we spent three days in Sihanoukville. It's a pretty neat beach town but there isn't a whole lot going on aside from the typical island day trips and "party cruises." It was nice to get in the ocean though and just relax on the beach. We didn't venture very far from the guesthouse because she was too scared, even though she was no longer alone. That didn't bother me though because the place we were staying was just a stone's throw away from most things worth seeing. On the last day, I decided to go for an evening fishing trip that I was given a flyer for. I was feeling like I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary in Cambodia so I went, on the grounds that it was something different. The miss decided not to join for reasons still unknown to me. I suspect for fear of something.

The flyer had advertised: $9 per person, music on the boat, a free beer or soda, BBQ your fish on the boat, 3 hours of fun, and more. The whole enchilada. However, when I got to the dock I was the only one there for Mr. Theap's fishing adventure! He explained to me that I could still go but since I was alone, it would cost more to "cover his costs." I thought about it for a while and decided to go for it anyway. What he failed to mention was that he was putting me on a smaller boat, with a random Cambodian guy, no music, no fishing poles, no BBQ and no beer. Luckily I had come prepared with my own six-pack. I had done the math in my head: 3 hours + supposed food + supposed company - one free beer = not enough beers.

I ended up having the time of my life. Not in the holy-shit-that-was-crazy-fun kinda way, but in the calm, reflective, grateful, I-love-this-for-what-it-is kind of way. I couldn't help but appreciate the unexpectedness of the whole thing. I can't really do it justice right here so check out the photos and captions in my Sihanoukville album. We only ended up staying out on the boat for two hours but the sun had set and I was perfectly happy to head in. Mr. Theap greeted me at the dock, at which point I realized that he had really only planned for us to be out for two hours, even though he kept repeating "tree owa" before I left. I found his whole scam rather entertaining. As far as I was concerned, the joke was on him. He led me to a restaurant on the beach and threw all my live fish on a ready grill that was out on the sand. I ordered some fries and a beer and had myself a wonderful dinner.

Bangkok

I decided to leave the last post as is, for the simple fact that new posts generate more traffic to the blog. Plus, new content doesn't run the risk of being overlooked as editions to old content do. So let's dive right in to my Bangkok experience.

I arrived at the Bangkok airport from Luang Prabang two days ago around 9:30 a.m. I made my way to Khaosan Road using as much public transit as possible to minimize the cost. I chose this part of town, as hectic as it is, because I know it's pretty cheap and I'm somewhat familiar with it. I walked around the back streets until I found a guesthouse that satisfied my wants. Still feeling very weak, I rested there until 1:30 or so, at which point I decided to make my way to the hospital where I had made my appointment. I wasn't scheduled until 4 but I didn't know how long it would take to get there and check in and all that jazz.

I didn't leave the hospital until almost 6. It was a pleasant experience, all things considered. It was nicer and more modern than any hospital I've been to; on par with the newest parts of the U of U hospital. It's supposed to be the best one in Thailand. Even the taxi driver commented on it. " Numba one. Numba one in Thailand." The bill for the checkup, two visits with the doctor, and blood tests was right around $120. Not cheap, but not terrible either.

I made it back to the guesthouse and cleaned myself up to go out for dinner. I was too tired to wander so I settled for a place across the street. I ordered some curry that usually isn't spicy so I said, "spicy." The asshole server looked at me, raised his eyebrows and repeated, "spicy?" I nodded. He nudged a fellow server that was walking by and repeated, "spicy" to him. They both looked at me this time, eyebrows raised, with shit-eating grins. I was in no mood to explain to them that I wanted to make it through this meal with all taste buds in tact. I opted to say nothing and deal with it. It was exactly what I expected. If it weren't for my head being a little stuffy, it would have been unbearable. By the end, I couldn't feel my lips or any part of my mouth. When he asked me how it was, I just smiled and nodded, and gave him the is-that-all-you-got look. I paid and went back to my room to pass out.

I woke up around midnight to the sound of music blaring outside my building. I tried to ignore it for a while. Impossible. I also knew that I had gone to bed way too early to have any chance of sleeping through the night. I was feeling noticeably better though, so I thought, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em." I got dressed and walked around for a for a bit. Everything about Khaosan Road is entertaining to me. There is just so much going on, it's bananas. I walked around like I was at a zoo, pausing to look at the animals and take note of the quirky things they were doing. In one area, a bunch of them were dancing around to loud music, taking turns spinning on their heads and doing flips and other stunts. Instead of peanuts, people gave them money.

From there, I got distracted by an all out brawl that erupted on the street not fifty meters away. It started off with just fists and belts swinging but turned into bottles and objects flying everywhere. It was a pretty good show. When it ended, since obviously nothing was going to top that, I called it a night.

Yesterday was pretty uneventful. Although, in my search for a chiropractor, I did discover a side of Bangkok that I never knew existed. It was the high-end, ritzy part of town with all the super fancy resort hotels and shopping malls and modern buildings. I had always thought that Bangkok was a big dump because that's all I had ever seen. But this place, although it retained many of the dirty, trashy, polluted characteristics of the rest of the city, was extremely wealthy. It didn't really seem right to me, how it blended in so well with the rest of the city. On the cab ride there, I only barely noticed the gradual appearance of more and more expensive cars in the mix of taxis, tuk tuks and motorbikes. It was pretty trippy. The traffic was terrible everywhere. I was grateful to not be at the wheel; however, I was also frustrated at the time it took to get there. Especially when I found out the chiropractor was closing up as I arrived. He turned out to be extremely overpriced anyway.

I explored that part of town for a while, in absolute awe of its difference from the Khaosan Road neighborhood that I had come to accept as Bangkok. When I was ready to head back, I decided to have some fun and make an adventure of the ride home. I was determined to not get stuck in traffic, which was even worse now than when I had arrived. I had noticed some guys on scooters earlier with orange vests taxiing people around, so when I saw a couple just waiting on the corner, I asked if they could take me to Khaosan Road. They said yes. We negotiated a bit and off we went. It was hilarious. We swerved in and out, between cars, over the river, and through the woods. Wait, no woods. Virtually unaffected by traffic, I was back to the guesthouse in no time! That was the highlight of my day.

Today, I did nothing of the sort. I mostly just contemplated my next move. I considered going to straight to India, but after reading up a bit on the country and travel conditions, I opted against it. I'm looking for a more something a little more low key. My tentative plan as of now is to spend 10 days or so going through Cambodia into southern Vietnam then work my way up the coast to Hanoi, where I would have been right now had it not been for this precautionary detour. My Vietnamese visa expires on December 12, so I'm somewhat limited on time. From there, I'm thinking back to China, and then who knows.

What's the big idea?

This post is subject to change. I'm staying in a guesthouse near Koah Sarn Road in Bangkok. It's similar to Patong although I'd say it's a bit more mellow. When I went to bed last night, I thought to myself, that was uneventful. Tonight I sat down for dinner at a place with some Thai guy covering American songs on his guitar. I'm not sure if I got lost in the music, or the beers that I finally deemed myself well enough to drink, but I realized that a few of the details from last night might be worth writing about. So I will. Later.

I proceeded to let my imagination carry me away. I seemed to focus on one general train of thought though. It was centered around an idea I had earlier this year. It's a bit ambitious but where would we be without ambition. Follow-through has always been my real problem. Anyway, in a nutshell, I want to be a part of something big. A wiki community concept. A wikimunity. The idea is to get every brilliant mind involved in creating a hypothetical community that could potentially be created somewhere. The location would depend both on what is available, and on the hypothetical needs of this society whose governing laws would be decided before hand by everyone. The education system would actually inspire creative thinking based on individual aspirations and abilities. Nothing of life as we know it would be lost. It would only evolve to be centered around basic human needs, not money.

I know this is far beyond the scope of this blog, or any blog really, since blogs are not a suitable platform for communal input. But it has to start somewhere, and this is what I can do here and now. I'm almost ashamed to bring it up here, but I'm committed to share everything, and this is a decent piece of what goes on inside me. Plus, if you really think about the 6 degrees theory and take into account the doors that have opened in the internet age, anything is possible. I created a different blog for this a long time ago but never had the direction or the confidence to get it started. Expect more on this later. I'll need everybody's help. Literally.

It's All Good

I'm stuck in a taxi on my way back to the guesthouse from the hospital. It looks like I'm gonna be in traffic for a while so I'll get caught up. I had a blood test done and everything looks perfect. I'm super curious as to what I'm going to gain from this little detour since I seem to have wasted a fair amount of time and money. It's definitely changed my course of travel so I guess we'll see in the weeks to come. The doctor recommended I stay in Bangkok until Friday just in case, so I know at least that much. Tomorrow I'm going to find a chiropractor because I ran out of time today. I have a feeling that's going to make a world of difference. Not much else to report. I'm feeling much better than I was yesterday, but still only operating at about 60%.

Where you go!?

I am in bed with a super hot forehead. That's right, case three of the flu-like symptoms. Fever, cold sweats and aches, but this time with a splitting headache. I spent today changing my travel plans to accommodate. I got most of my money back for my bus ticket to Hanoi. I had looked up the health care options there just in case and found that Vietnam doesn't care much about your health at all. My plan was to tour the country for a month so I'm not going to show up in questionable health. Luang Prabang doesn't have much to offer either so I booked a flight to Bangkok for tomorrow morning. I made an appointment to get checked out tomorrow afternoon. While I'm there, I'm definitely going to hit up a chiropractor too. That, I am excited about. I'm not terribly concerned about all this and I definitely had not anticipated going back to Thailand so soon, much less Bangkok, but better that than risk being caught with malaria in the middle of nowhere.

In spite of my misery today, I feet pretty lucky. I kept crossing paths with a couple who was in much worse shape than I. The guy was scraped up everywhere, two black eyes, all bandaged up, and the girl could barely walk a snails pace. Using the guy as her crutch, she walked backwards, moving her good leg, if I dare call it that, in the direction they were going, six inches at a time, and literally dragging her other foot behind. I don't know what the hell happened to these two but it was painful to watch. They were out and about all day though. Every time I thought I felt bad for myself, I happened to run into them. I kept thinking, at least I can walk! And my recovery won't be nearly as long, painful, or miserable as theirs.

Enough about that. I have a story to tell. Once upon a Thursday night, I was heading to the night market when I ran into a guy and a girl staring at a map. I figured since I had been here for over a week already that I would offer my assistance. I didn't end up being particularly helpful, but I did point out where we were on the map and showed them what the orientation was. Result: friends for a night. We grabbed a fruit shake together (I f*&#ing love fruit shakes! I take two a day.) and I proceeded to show them a few of the cool hangouts around town. We settled down at the Lao Lao Bar for dinner.

The guy was French and the girl was half British, half Australian, and a mighty fine blend at that. They had just arrived from Hanoi by plane, which is actually how they met.

While we were ordering our food, we made an extremely poor last minute decision to share a bucket. The Law of Buckets states that you can't have just one. The dude abides. By the end of dinner, we were feeling pretty good. We discussed the options for what to do next. Unfortunately it was already past 11 and Luang Prabang loosely enforces a midnight curfew. Everything closes at 11:30. Everything except the bowling alley that is. I had been hearing about this place all week and was pretty curious.

My new friends weren't interested which left no other option than to call it a night. I pointed them towards their guesthouse before heading off in the opposite direction towards mine. I was slightly disappointed that the night had ended so abruptly. But right as I was telling myself that it was a good idea to get to bed, I heard the infamous call of the tuk tuk driver. "Tuk tuk! Where you go?" They always hang out by the bars at closing time. I shook my head out of habit. But then I stopped walking and thought to myself, I may not be ready for bed just quite yet. I negotiated a $2 ride to the bowling alley and got in, sealing the deal on my second terrible decision of the evening.

Going bowling! Thanks Mr. Tuk Tuk!

When I got there, it was pretty much what I expected. A dozen lanes, a bar, a few tables, and a whole bunch of drunk idiots. I didn't realize until later that I was one of them. I spotted a girl in the crowd that I had briefly talked to back at the Lao Lao bar. I had tried to help her get over a case of the hiccups. No, that's not code for anything either, although I'm sure that would work. I walked up and said hello and asked if I could join her and her friends for bowling. She kindly agreed and introduced me to her boyfriend and the rest of the gang. At that point, I made my third terrible decision of the evening and went in on a bottle of Lao whiskey. Not that I had to make much of a contribution, the entire fifth with a liter of Pepsi and a bucket of ice came out to $5.  Remember what I said about cheap booze?

We bowled a game and hung out a bit, then decided to call it. I hopped in a tuk tuk with the girl and her boyfriend and headed back into old town. We stood in the road and exchanged drunken philosophies on life for a good hour. Finally around 3:30 or so we exchanged emails and said goodbye. They were a super fun and good looking couple. The kind you can't help but be happy for.

As I walked home, I began to realize that my feet felt a little funny. I looked down to find that I was still wearing the bowling shoes. It was too late to go back. I laughed at my drunken stupidity but thought of how upset I would be if I lost those shoes for good. As these thoughts were circling through my head, a very gay drunk Lao guy drove by on his scooter and said, "hey, where you go?!" Again, out of habit I just shook my head. But again, I reconsidered. When he asked me again, because they always ask you again, I pointed at the clown shoes I was wearing and said "I left my shoes at the bowling alley." As nervous as I was to get on a motorbike with this excuse for a dude, I would never forgive myself if I didn't end up getting my shoes back. I agreed to pay him $4 if I got my shoes back.

I hopped on and we were off. When we got there the gate was closed. He yelled something in Lao and a guy showed up a minute later. He pointed at the shoes I was wearing and explained the situation. The guy looked at me and smiled, and we were immediately granted access. It was obvious that they knew each other. I realized then how insanely lucky I was. I always am. We went in and I found my shoes, I tipped the guy who let us in, and we were off again.

The ride home was anything but comfortable. First, my new friend here tried to take an alternate route. I said, "no no no no no." He told me it was faster but I knew the way so I knew he was lying. He turned around to go the right way. A few minutes in, he starts to tell me how cold he is as he pushes back up against me. I kindly told him that I wasn't interested. Not 30 seconds later, he leaned back into me and started rubbing my leg. Having let go of the handle bars with one hand, we swerved a bit. This time I was much more stern in my response. Aside from his having no respect, I was beginning to question my safety. Finally, he apologized and backed off. The rest of the way back he told me all about how he liked to pick up drunk straight white guys late at night. He made it sound like he often got what he wanted. I wondered how drunk or curious these guys would have to have been. Anyway, I had him drop me off a few blocks from my guesthouse so that he wouldn't "accidentally" find me again. I gave him his $4 and walked away. After all he had told me, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of how that exchange must have looked to an unsuspecting bystander.

Transparent

I've been on my own for over a month now. Looking back, I realize just how much of that time I've spent alone. With the exception of three people and a few scattered nights at the bars, I have kept very much to myself. I have felt no lasting need to build any social bonds. I did welcome and very much enjoy the company of those I spent time with; however, I can't say that I felt much of a void when I found myself alone again. If anything, I'm gradually getting more comfortable in my solitude. I'm not particularly motivated to go out, partially because the cost of booze is so high relative to everything else. And when it's not, you can count on spending the next day with a migraine. Maybe I'm just getting old. Ha. Obviously. You can't very well get young.

During the day, I tend more to preoccupy myself with books and this blog, and the occasional emails. I take breaks to eat and pee, and to make observations from my perch. Isolation inevitably leads to self reflection, which in turn, effectively keeps me reading and writing. I'm not a complete drone yet; I do get random urges to stretch, and be active, and talk some, but they are easily satisfied. In the end, my thoughts rein victorious and carry me away. I don't expect this to always be the case, but for now it feels like what I need.

This post is a compilation of some of my thoughts. They may seem slightly scattered but the dots should connect to form a rough outline of me. Rough, not for lack of clarity, but because I am actually rough around the edges! Seriously though, these ramblings might be boring so grab a tasty beverage and turn this post into a drinking game! Go on, I'll wait.

Now, take a drink every time I say the word "blog." Yes, of course that counts. If at any point you realize that you missed one, stop. Take it from the top.

Alright, blog, I finished my forth book of the trip today. I mentioned in other posts that I was reading the first two of the Ender's Game series. Despite feeling the need to diversify out of principle, I went on to read the third and the forth. As a whole, these books carry enough moral and ethical value based on spiritual, yet logical standards, to serve perfectly as guidelines for a happy, healthy lifestyle. I certainly prefer them to any religious doctrine, as I have read them all. They manage to put the human condition into perspective, and have inspired in me the constructive situation analysis that is the basis for many of my blog posts. The key to good writing seems to lie in how effectively you get readers to relate to what you convey. Orson Scott Card is brilliant at this.

I've been through similar phases before in my life, where I feel antisocial. The first I remember of this is when I was 10. I spent the bulk of that summer, and the three summers after it, alone on the cliffs of Meschers, France, near our house. I had no blog or friends to speak of, aside from my cousins who came around every so often. I hadn't yet learned to be outwardly social so I never felt the need to be. I was simply absorbed in the challenge of catching whatever I could. Fish, and shrimp, and crab, and blog, and whatever else could be found. I didn't even like seafood, but my family did. That was just an added benefit though. In high school, I went through several antisocial phases, the first of which was a period of nearly fatal depression at the end of my freshman year. I feel lucky to have escaped that one. A long time passed before I talked much with anyone after that. It wasn't for lack of desire though, I had always been envious of the way my brother so effortlessly engaged with whomever he wanted. I just hadn't figured out how to do it myself. It still doesn't always come easy. Finally, my junior year, on a trip to West Palm Beach with my dad for Spring break, I decided to go out on my own. I convinced myself to grow a pair and talk to everybody I felt like being in a conversation with, even if I had absolutely nothing to say. The logic was that I was so far away from home that there was no chance of running into any of these people again. Therefore, the risk of embarrassment carried no weight. I learned a lot that week, and overcame a couple useless fears.

I've thought a bit about that week on this trip, especially in Chiang Mai. I toyed with idea of shamelessly engaging with everyone just to see what trouble I could get myself into. In the end though, I always shied away. I know what fun it can lead to, but connecting with myself seemed more important. And so I've read, and I've written. I have connected with myself, and with people back home. In part, because of people back home. I would never have guessed when I left the people that I have remained in touch with. And many whom I expected to hear from have been nonexistent. It's perfect though, because nobody needs all of their friends all of the time. I've cycled through friends my entire life. The good ones stick around, or come back, and are there when I need them. If they are not there, it's either because it's actually their absence that I need, or because they don't need me in that moment, which amounts to the same thing. I measure the quality of my friendships not by the amount time spent together or in communication, but rather by joy of those moments when we are.

We all manifest our own destiny by living in the reality that is most logical to us at any given moment. And since truth is really only what you believe enough to act upon, the key is to find a justification of what makes you happy that makes enough sense to you to believe it in that way. It all relates back to that elusive sense of purpose. 

Out here, my greatest sense of purpose comes from this blog, both from writing it and from the response I get. No matter where I am in the world, I can make you laugh, think, feel, drink, blog blog blog blog blog blog blog blog blog blog blog, etc, as if I were right there with you. The only thing I resent about the blog is the time that it takes for me to write. And I hate to spend time doing anything right now that I could be doing at home. But what I could do at home and what I would do have proven to be two entirely different things. With all the distractions of habit at home, I would likely not have found the stimulation or had the clarity of mind to write what I have here.

I have questioned my attachment to my electronic devices. I had originally envisioned this trip as a chance to break free of materialistic tendencies. In the weeks leading up to my departure, I nearly cut my material possessions in half, letting go of many things I thought I needed. I wanted to make sure that when I go back home, it's for the right reasons. However, in my last minute decision to create and maintain this blog, I bought this tablet, giving up many of the freedoms I had hoped for. What I've gained in their place, is arguably more valuable. It's difficult though, to weigh the value of what I could be doing against something I take so much pride in.

Having committed to this blog, the real question became about how much to include in it. How much of my personal experience is appropriate to share with absolutely everybody? I've struggled with this until just recently, and after a drawn out internal debate over the matter, I came up with this: Nothing I should, in my opinion, be doing right now would need to be withheld from anyone. And naturally, anything I would do could only contribute to the demystification of me, and therefore should not be excluded. So, if the information contained in my blog, in its truth, serves to push anyone away, then logic would have it that these people, in their inability to accept who I am, should join the ranks of those who are clearly not worth my time associating closely with. As long as I stay true to myself and this blog, it will serve as a self-regulating function of my life.

Blog.

Luang Prabang

When we first arrived in Luang Prabang we had no intention of staying more than a few days. Of course, that's true of every place I've been so far since I have yet to take the time to research a location before actually going there. The guesthouse we found the first night was clean and reasonably priced. It was dark out and we had no idea where we were in relation to the town center. For all we knew, we were in it. What I knew for sure is that there was an ice cream shop next door!

The next day we rented bikes in an attempt to get our bearings. We discovered the old part of town that, like the old parts of most towns and cities, has been most developed to accommodate tourists. I believe this happens naturally because these are usually the most charming areas in a city. The locals have little choice but to do business where the tourists are most comfortable and likely to hang out.

This part of town with small streets and tiny cobble alleyways reminded me a lot of France. And to my surprise I started to hear and see french everywhere. There were french schools, french signs, and a lot of french people. Eventually I asked someone what the deal was. Apparently the French helped colonize Luang Prabang. The implications were huge. There would be no shortage of crepes, croissants, or baguettes for me as long as I stayed here!

We realized that we had stayed in the wrong part of town, mostly because it wasn't this part, and decided to find a place here close to the river. The search for a guesthouse at a new destination is always interesting. You never really know what you're looking for or what to expect. The best strategy is to walk from place to place and ask to see the rooms to get an idea of what's available and what the price range is. We did just that. After checking out a half dozen or so guesthouses, we stumbled upon one that was confusingly cheap for what and where it was; about $6 per night for the both of us. The Nam Sok guesthouse would be home for the next several days.

We also found a restaurant on the river that I knew right away would be my home away from home, away from home. There were couches, and shade, and a view; basically all the motivation I could ask for to read and write. And that's what I felt like doing. We sat down to grab a bite. Enough time passed that we grabbed another. People came and went. One American guy started a conversation with me. I didn't much feel like conversing but he offered some good information that actually sparked a course of action. Inaction, rather. He told us that a lot of the flowers and lights and decorations around town were all part of a festival that was happening on the 31st. I had obviously noticed all this -- it was part of the town's appeal -- but it had never even occurred me that something special might be going on.

The restaurant seating and view.

It was an easy decision to stay. It had the feel an old familiar European town. The people were friendly. The atmosphere was enchanting. There was plenty to see and do. And the price was certainly right. We spent the next couple days peacefully enjoying the sights and sounds of the town in full preparation for this important celebration. It was the end of the Buddhist lent period. This article describes it well.

The night of the festival, we went on a run around the town. We got to see more than just the neighborhood that we had confined ourselves to, and got some good ol' fashioned exercise in the process. We finished in time to catch the parade. It was a showing of all the bamboo boats and natural art pieces that were about to be let loose on the Mekong river. Everything was lit up with candles. People all around were making sounds with whatever they had available. Collectively, it was music; charming in it's simplicity. A few sky lanterns were being set free, complimenting the stars in the clear night sky. It was magical, and I felt lucky to be sharing it with someone.

One of the Temple courtyards.

The next day was just as great in it's own way. We rented a motorcycle and rode out to the Pak Ou caves in the morning. They were nice, but not that cool. I thought they would be bigger and more exciting. Ah, the curse of expectation. It was enjoyable netheless. We came back into town for lunch before riding out in the opposite direction to the Kuang Si waterfall. Now that was right up my alley! We followed a dirt path through some woods and along a river. It was like an enchanted forest that I saw once -- we'll just call it a dream. It was relaxing to be in the presence of such natural beauty. There were several smaller falls, and pools to swim in. After only fifteen minutes or so, we reached the main waterfall. It was impressive, but I was more interested in following the path. It led us to a bridge that crossed over the river, then turned into a steep jungle trail that had been worn into the mountainside. The hike up, across through the water, and back down the other side was incredible. I can't really describe the feeling I had.

Atop the falls.

Once we were back down, I gave in to the temptation to go swimming and play Tarzan on the rope swing. I felt more like George of the Jungle though, almost hitting the very tree that I swung from. Details.

The next few days were mellow. I spent a lot of time reading and writing. I began to feel that my travel companion not as content with being still. She said nothing of it, but it was clear that she was ready to move on. Not from me, but from here. Hence her silence. Determined to not repeat the mistake I had made with the German girl, I brought it up and told her frankly how I felt and why.

I was certainly going to leave soon, but I didn't know when. I loved every bit of her company. Especially after the first few weeks of my journey, which I had spent alone, observing all the couples that traveled together and imagining the bond that was building between them. I was envious in my fascination of this concept of love. With her, everything we had done, all the time we had spent together was better because she was around. I was getting a taste of what I longed for. What I didn't like, was this new feeling I had that I was keeping her from going where she wanted to go. I also didn't like the accompanying feeling that she was counting on me to be around.

It was an emotional conversation that ultimately ended with an agreement: should we part ways, it would carry no implications. We could meet up again at any point, and no matter what, our friendship would not be compromised. Win, win. She was eager to visit Cambodia anyway, and I had decided that Vietnam would be my next stop. So, we spent the next few days making the most of our time together. The night before last, I walked her to the bus station and just like that, she was gone.

Three Point One Four: The Missing Piece

If you've been following my adventures all along, you've probably noticed a significant gap in the story line that resulted in a subject change from "I" to "we." The purpose of this post is to close that gap.

As a precautionary measure, I'll refrain from using the names of certain people. Please ignore the unintended impersonal tone that is bound to come across as a result.

It all started in Kata, Phuket with the German girl. We kept in touch. She was the first person besides Kenny that I had really talked to since I had been on my own. The evening we spent together was effortless and our conversation engaging. That may simply have been because my approach to everything out here is relatively carefree. Or maybe because we share similar life philosophies and travel intentions. Probably both. Our goodbyes that night included a couple offhanded remarks suggesting the possibility of running in to each other again. Still, being my first encounter, I semi-consciously decided to think little of it.

In Chiang Mai, I checked out the social scene but didn't partake. Getting there really made me appreciate just being there. I was perfectly happy keeping to myself. It wasn't until I signed up for Jungle Flight and the three-day trek, where silence would have been more awkward than getting involved, that I really talked to anyone again.

Just before the jungle trek, I received an email from the German girl saying that she would be making her way up to Chiang Mai. I'm still unsure exactly how much of her decision to head my direction had to do with me. The thought that it did though made me a bit nervous simply because I didn't feel like it was based on a mutual agreement. This feeling undoubtedly emanated from a misinterpretation of my enthusiastic demeanor the night we met that was brought into light in our email conversations. I assume partial responsibility for not having recognized this in time to tone it down. Of course, I knew that ultimately the decision to spend more time with her was mine, and if I decided for it, nothing that had happened between us had given me any reason to believe that it wouldn't be time well spent. Besides, in my experience, something good always comes from every situation, even if I fail to recognize it immediately. Still, I resented the fact that for me, it had never really been a decision at all. As always, I would volunteer myself, unnecessarily, to face some uncomfortable conditions that were really only a product of my imagination. Her tentative arrival date fell on the same day that I was to return from the trek.

The jungle trek introduced an exciting new element to this story. If you haven't already guessed, I'm referring to the, "...one Dutch girl traveling solo..." We made eye contact the moment I stepped in to the truck that was taking us all away. The size of our group and the length of the trek made it nearly impossible not to engage in smalltalk at some point with everyone there. Given the language barriers though, that was usually all it amounted to. Fortunately, that allowed plenty of room for flirting, which requires remarkably few words. By the end of the trek, the Dutch girl and I had come to a clear, mutual agreement that we should get together again. Conveniently -- naturally almost -- she had plans to spend the next three days in Pai, just north of Chiang Mai.

I met up with the German girl for breakfast the next morning. She had "coincidentally" ended up at a guesthouse directly across the street from mine. We spent much of the next few days together, taking our personal time as we needed it. Our plans to meet up were often vague and tentative but they always worked out. We always had something to say and the mood was consistently light and happy. It was nice to have dependable company. Howbeit, I always felt like I had to keep her at arm's length. She was obviously aware, and I could tell it was confusing to her, but I didn't completely understand it myself. I didn't fight it because in this particular situation, no good could come of that. The Dutch girl's return was approaching, but that wasn't reason enough. I felt something else holding me back. It's likely that my preconceived notions of how it was going to play out defined how it actually did. That's a fun concept. How many lifetimes have been spent trying to understand and master that?

Anyway, on our third day we did some jungle white water rafting. It was a funtastic day trip with yet another amazing backdrop. Unfortunately my camera isn't waterproof so I have no images of that to share. We ended up on a raft with a couple guys about our age; one French and one German. They were quite the comedians which made the trip that much better. We kept running jokes about a fine young lady on a nearby raft that they had crush on. She was with a guy who they convinced themselves was her brother. At one point the German guy said, "she just sent me signals with her eyes." The French guy snap responded, "signals like, 'hey, who's your friend?'"

By the time we got back to town that evening, the German girl had apparently had enough of the uncertainty between us. We said goodbye as we always had; however, it wasn't until after she walked away that it occurred to me that we had no plans to meet up again. I had a feeling that wasn't the last time I'd see her but I felt no desire to initiate contact. I had truly enjoyed our time together but it felt right to leave it at that and move on. That night, I went to the Sunday market and realized just how happy I was to be alone again.

I spent the next day to myself, enjoying every moment. Come nighttime, I was ready for a little social stimulation. I met up with the Dutch girl for a drink. Conversation didn't come easy because, let's just say her English isn't perfect. There were a few awkward silences and many repeated sentences. To her credit, the music was so loud that we could barely hear each other. All in all, not much was said, but it was enough to earn ourselves another encounter the following day.

That encounter turned into plans to travel to Laos together. It just so happened that we had both left home at the end of September, within a couple days of each other. Neither of us had a return date in mind or any real idea of what we were going to do until such a day came. We had followed similar courses through Thailand to Chiang Mai, and had similar, although vague, ideas of where to go from there. Plus, all along I had anticipated finding travel partners here and there. Surely she was as good as any other. The beauty of starting out with no plan lies in the freedom to make one up as you go. Take the bull by the horns. The Presidents of the United States of America said it best, "An empty boat starts rowin', that's when you're knowin', life is passing you by!" Never mind that that song is about a girl who's a mixed up son of a bitch; the point is, when you want something in life, you've just got to reach out and grab it. 

Both of our Thai visas would expire soon so we had to hit the road anyway. Might as well go together. We basically threw a dart a Laos map and went with it. Neither of us had much interest in researching the place we were going. We agreed that if we didn't like it, there was nothing to keep us from moving on. So we plotted our course to Luang Namtha, with a pit stop in Chiang Rai. Aside from wanting to see Chiang Rai, we had both learned the hard way that it's usually better to break up long bus rides in these parts.

Lastly, this story would not be complete without one last minor detail. We ran into the German girl twice in Luang Namtha, and twice in Luang Prabang where I am now. The timing; the arbitrary, spontaneous nature of our travel, and hers; I couldn't make this stuff up. These run-ins were hard on her though. It was obvious despite the genuine smile she wore each time. She later confirmed this to me in an email. After all, we never actually said goodbye or agreed to go our separate ways. I don't feel good about it at all. But rather than waste precious energy on regret, I'm taking it to heart and making a commitment to myself to be more aware, for the sake of everyone I've hurt out of ignorance.

Words and actions always run the risk of being skewed by interpretation. Intention, in a sense, is no more than a bias that hinders your ability to make yourself understood.

Lost in Translation

I've been waiting a while now for the right time to introduce this new segment to my blog. Similar to WoW in my first blog, Lost in Translation will show up every so often to add a little humor and variety. The title says it all.

This is the package of peanuts I was given on my flight to Phuket.
Define, "GURAD." Also, note to self: "DO NOT EAT WHO IS ALLERGIC TO PEANUTS" 

Please wear a "jacket lift" if swimming intoxicated on Bacardi.

This small village was riddled with litter. The chicken or the egg?

The Damrongratsongkroh Center For Kids Who Can't Read Good And Who Wanna Learn To Do Other Stuff Good Too

Cover This

Yesterday we packed it up to take a, "minibus" to Luang Prabang. What I expected to be a boring day on the road, ended up being a surprisingly eventful test of patience. It started at around 7am when we paid 140,000 LAK ($18ish) each for the bus ticket which included the taxi to the bus station. We were told the that taxi driver would get us our bus tickets upon arrival at the station. He did.

We were instructed to wait by a run down van until ours arrived. It never did. We had only waited fifteen minutes before we were told that said run down van would be our home for the next eight hours. Our "minibus" had apparently broken down on the way to pick us up. I imagined the condition of the thing given that the one we were actually taking was the reliable one. For a short moment, I felt a bit of gratitude.

We piled in with five other passengers and hit the road. Within fifteen minutes, I had already managed to piss the driver off. He had turned Laos radio on to a volume that the speakers, or my ear drums for that matter, were obviously not equipped to handle. After a few minutes of this, I realized that if I didn't say anything there was a good chance that we'd all end up clinically insane by the end of the ride. I tapped him on the shoulder and did what I thought was the universal hand signal for, "please turn it down a little." There must have been a misunderstanding because the look on his face went cold and he aggressively punched the power button with his index and middle fingers. The language barrier was intimidating, especially while he was concentrated on the road, so I decided it best to leave it at that. Plus, I welcomed the silence.

The first two and a half hours made me a bit nauseous. This stretch of the road made Lombard Street seem straight. The driver maintained a quick and steady pace throughout the entire thing. My head bobbled so much I may as well have glued my ass to the dashboard. I did my best to focus on the scenery which, again, made it all worth while. The jungle covered mountains and valleys, the small villages and their people -- it never gets old. A quick observation while I'm on the subject: the village people make babies like nobody's business. From what I saw, 60% of their populations were under the age of 10.

We took a much needed break at the first place that resembled a town. I emptied my tank and picked up some water and snacks for the road. After about 45 minutes, we were off again. That's what I thought anyway. As we turned on to the main road the driver pulled over and shook the steering a bit to indicate that the entire steering shaft had just come abnormally loose. He tinkered around with it for a while before coming to the obvious conclusion that he could not fix it with his screwdriver. He drove back into town and pulled in to a car shop. To his credit, I never would have recognized it as such. After a short and unnecessarily loud exchange, the mechanic reached in and shook the steering wheel to confirm the problem. The driver got out to make room for the mechanic to hammer a steel wedge between the floor and the shaft and weld it in to place. Once he was finished, he shook the steering wheel again showing off the quality of his workmanship. It barely budged. The last order of business was to spray water, from a water bottle with a hole in the cap, on to the fresh weld to cool it down. Our driver paid him what looked like the equivalent of $3, and we were off again. The entire process, from diagnosis to payment, took just over half an hour.

The second leg of the drive lasted just over two hours. The road was nearly the same as the first part, except that only half of it was paved. This minor detail was not reason enough for our driver to slow down. After a short while, I started to have fun with it. I imagined myself in a rally race hauling around blind curves, only with the added suspense of oncoming traffic. Plus, I couldn't help but think we were making great time.

It was around 2:30 pm when we got to our second stop. It wasn't much of a town but it happened to be the destination of two of the backpackers from our van. The driver opened the door for them. After they got out though, he stood there and stared at me in anticipation. I had been told that we would not arrive in Luang Prabang until after five, but the driver insisted that we get out. Here I was faced with a several problems. First, I forgot the name of the city Luang Prabang, so I couldn't tell him where I was going. Second, when he told me where we were, it sounded, to me anyway, a hell of a lot like the name of the place I had forgotten. Third, I had no idea how much time we had actually gained, so for all I knew, that very well could have been it. And forth, this guy already didn't like me so I had to be particularly careful with what I said.

After several minutes of awkward hand gestures, useless word exchange, ticket verification, and the works, I figured out what had happened. Apparently the taxi driver that brought us to the bus station in the morning only gave us a ticket to this place in BFE so that he could pocket the rate difference. The tickets are entirely in Lao so I had no idea. I couldn't possibly explain all this to our driver, who was probably friends with the taxi driver anyway, so I paid him the little extra he demanded and we were off again.

The last leg of the drive was relatively mellow. It lasted less than three hours and the road conditions were the best they had been. We arrived in Louang Phrabang around 5:30, giving us enough time to walk into to town from the station to find a guesthouse. But not before being harassed by the tuk tuk drivers who assured us that it was too far to walk.

I named this post after one of my favorite songs right now by Dispatch. My favorite part of the song is when they sing, "So close your eye-eyes, and get in the va-a-a-an!" I thought it was appropriate.

Luang Namtha

We spent the last two days in Luang Namtha, Laos. The town has really only developed to accommodate tourists over the last two years. The standard bicycle and scooter rentals are available, as well as jungle treks, kayaking, and other local tours. It seems these are always the first things to pop up. But there really isn't much else. I didn't much feel like partaking in any of the tours or treks because I did similar things in Thailand. Plus, these are the kinds of activities that break the bank. We did exercise the motorbike option the first day though because it's one of the best and cheapest ways to explore almost any of these parts.

On the ride along a winding mountain road, I realized that I "rack adisciprine." I've been feeling kinda heavy and slow these last couple weeks. I attribute this to the fact that the only exercise besides walking around that I've done since I left, was the hiking I did on my trek. I reminded myself of the overall feeling of well being you get from being consistently active and decided that it was high time I jump back on that wagon.

(I just realized this post is boring, so I'll summarize.)

After returning the scooters, we strapped on our shoes and went for a run. The next day, we rented bicycles and pushed it a little harder. I already feel much better so I'm going to stick with it. After all, being healthy was one of the intentions I had for this trip.

Aside from the exercise, the highlight of Luang Namtha was its small night market. It wasn't anything extravagant or impressive really at all, but for some reason I just really liked it. One booth had roast duck for less than $3 so I got that two of the three nights I was there -- so good!

Mmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Clog-proof Plumbing

This was the plumbing installation at the Garden Guesthouse in Chiang Rai. The purpose of the bamboo "pipe" is to prevent water from splashing on your feet when it falls from the sink to the floor. The pitch of the floor leads the drain water from the bottom of the pipe to the back wall, and along to the hole in the corner of the room that leads outside. This whole process is barely noticeable, until you brush your teeth.

On the Road Again

I have a lot to catch up on. This is partly because of another bonehead move I made two nights ago. I accidentally permanently deleted my Thai Jungle post that I had published the day before. Luckily, despite its length, I was able to rewrite it today almost verbatim. I guess that's the one good thing about my painfully slow writing and editing process; by the time I publish a post it is entirely committed to short term memory. 

I also have a lot to catch up on because since my return from the jungle trek, I haven't had much time alone. I haven't done anything particularly exciting, unless you count reading Speaker for the Dead, but I certainly managed to get myself into a predicament reminiscent of those common throughout a couple of my summers in France. (Check out my first blog if you'd like a better idea of what I'm talking about. embroideredyarns.blogspot.com) I won't get into it now but I promise the details soon. The important thing to know now is that I've acquired a travel companion from all this.

We left Chiang Mai yesterday for Laos and took a pit stop in Chiang Rai to break up the 8 hour bus ride. Chiang Rai is a neat place with a completely different feel. There is a lot of neat art in the streets.

Chiang Rai Clock Tower

Wandering around, we stumbled upon one of the funniest things I've seen on this trip. Imagine an open air Thai aerobics class in which all the participants, mostly middle-aged women, are wearing new style, neon laced western exercise clothing, and are attentively following a flamboyant instructor clapping randomly while bouncing around on a stage between two giant speakers blaring Thai pop music. I saw this. In fact, I couldn't look away. I popped a squat on a nearby curb for a good fifteen minutes and stared until it ended.

Today we left the Garden Guesthouse bright and early to catch a local bus to the Laos border. The two hour ride through the mountains was absolutely beautiful. The old local bus, with its hard, cramped seats and shoddy suspension, was not. That said, the ride was actually quite enjoyable overall since the windows and doors were left open the entire way. It did cross my mind that that might actually be because they couldn't close anymore. Regardless, I love the feel of being on the open road with the wind in my hair, so to speak. 

Getting across the Laos border, dealing with a new currency, and finding the right bus to Luang Namtha was another folkloric adventure. Not to mention the bus ride itself -- four or so hours in what I'll generously call a downgrade from the previous bus, only to get to the bus station here after dark and wait 45 minutes for our tuk tuk driver to do apparently nothing but stand around. The beauty of all this is that I enjoyed every second of it. The people here are so smiley, and what I saw of the country on the drive in was every bit as awe inspiring as any other place I've been.

Thai Jungle

I've reached the inevitable point in my journey where this blog can no longer wholly serve all of its purposes. That said, I will continue on in my attempt to maintain balance.

The jungle trek was a wonderful escape from civilization. The scenery was breathtaking and the company eclectic. Our guide had an impossible Thai name so he introduced himself as Jackie Chan. Nobody argued, probably because he had a remarkably fitting look and sense of humor. For three days, I was "Mista No Hair." We spent a good part of our days hiking. The course led us through the mountains' jungle and rice crops, and a few hill tribe villages. We always had two breaks: one for lunch, and one to cool off in the river when and where it met up with the trail. Getting in the water was the highlight of the trek for me. We were given plenty of time to relax and really take in the beauty of the surrounding nature.

River pit stop, day two.

We had a fire both nights which brought on a temporary feeling of nostalgia. The first night was relatively low key. We had dinner, then moved to the makeshift benches surrounding the fire and sipped a bit of social lubricant. A couple of us took a night walk. And then a drunk Thai guy from our camp pulled out a six foot rifle and offered to take (only) the guys hunting for squirrels and birds. The three of us anxiously agreed. We didn't end up seeing anything but several times I found myself resisting the urge to stop suddenly, point, and yell, "SQUIRREL!" Upon our return to camp, our groveling comportment confirmed to the girls their skepticism of the whole charade. We were greeted with a healthy serving of ridicule. It was all in good fun though and set the stage for some great campfire conversation. As the fire died off, much of the group retired to bed. A different flame flickered a while longer.

Our camp the first night.

The second night had a slightly different feel. Time had cleared the air within the group and everyone talked much more freely. Eight of us committed to the 44 beers that were set before us. We laughed and played games with Jackie Chan, and learned the Elephant Song and how to count to ten in Thai.

View from our camp the second night.

Our group consisted of one German guy traveling solo, one Dutch girl traveling solo, two Dutch sisters, a Spanish couple from Madrid, five Spanish girls from Basque country, and me. I had developed a strange feeling before leaving on this adventure that some interesting situation might arise from having waited an extra day to go. That's just typical of my life. However, I did suffer a slight lapse in optimism followed by a short but severe case of idiocy while waiting at my guesthouse to get picked up for it. On the waiver sheet I had to sign, I noticed that there were five M's and only 3 F's on the list. Without even thinking, I put an F next to my name, nearly evening out the score. I didn't even realize what I had done until I looked back over my information to double check it -- but not before thinking to myself, "That's better! Wait..." I took a moment of silence to reflect on that. It turned out the waiver was for all tours leaving my guesthouse. It was in no way indicative of the male/female ratio that would be in my group, which was actually comprised of people from different guesthouses all over town.

Chiang Mai

I really feel like writing right now but I can't seem to put a perspicuous sentence together. Please bare with me through this gibberish while I gather my thoughts. I'll do a "free write" like we used to do in elementary school. You know, the teacher would tell you to write whatever comes to mind. Then when she told you to stop, you had to drop your pencil even if you were I the middle of a thought. In hindsight, that exercise seems like more of a child psychology test than a tool to develop your writing. Either that, or guaranteed comic relief for a teacher having a bad day. I'd love to be able to << Ok kids, stop. >>

I arrived in Chiang Mai around 9am the day following my last post. No, the post before that. Anyway, I'm not sure exactly what day that was since I've almost completely lost track of time. My only clock and calendar are on this tablet and when I use it, I often don't bother to check anymore.

I went to the train station info booth which, not surprisingly, was sponsored by one of the guest houses (basically a glorified hostel). In place of useful information, I was offered free transportation and a $10 room. I was eager to lose my backpack, and at that rate, I didn't care to be choosy. So, I agreed and hopped in the "mini bus." The place looked pretty OK when I got there but on my way to my room, I noticed that they were spraying a room two doors down for bed bugs. I made a comment to the front desk and they assured me that there had been no such problem in my room. Skeptical, I left it at that and went about my day.

I spent that day and the next reading Ender's Game and doing some exploratory walking through Chiang Mai. If any of you haven't read the book, do yourself that favor. And if you have, read it again. I like to think that it shaped my attitude and perspective as a teenager when I read it for the first time. I like a refresher course every now and again so I keep it handy.

Chiang Mai is easily my favorite place so far. It's more mellow, the locals are friendly and almost never in your face, it's cheap, the climate is absolutely perfect, there are mountains and jungle around (my dream), the vast majority of the tourists and travelers aren't obnoxious, I ended up in what I believe is the best part of town, and given the geography, there is an unlimited amount to do. I think I'm gonna stick around for a while.

Saturday night, I booked a treetop jungle flight, zip line/sky bridge, day trip for yesterday, and a three day mountain jungle trek to begin today. The jungle flight was surreal. I felt so at home atop those trees (pictures and videos are on up my Google + profile). I got back in time for the Sunday night market, which was nothing short of incredible. It takes place in the streets of old town Chiang Mai and goes on for ever. I walked about two hours and still didn't see everything. The atmosphere was entrancing. I got back to my room and decided I wasn't ready for the jungle trek. I hadn't prepared and wasn't quite sure what I needed, most of my laundry was dirty, I found a bed bug so I desperately wanted to change guest houses, and most importantly, I was already three days behind on the blog and wouldn't have had time to catch up before the trek. Priorities. Plus, I have no need to rush anything. So I pushed it back to tomorrow. I'll be completely off the grid for the next three days, and that'll be plenty to write about when I get back.

Today was a beautiful day. I upgraded to a cleaner, friendlier, brighter, and cheaper guest house just down the street from the other one. I got all my laundry done, visited some more of the city, got all the info I needed for the trek, and relaxed. Now, I'm ready. Over and out.

Customer Service

I just sat down for brunch at my hostel restaurant and ordered a cucumber salad. My server went back to the kitchen area, then immediately came back out and hopped on her scooter. She came back five minutes later with a bag of cucumbers.

Fun Facts

Every time I cross a road in Thailand, I feel like the frog in Frogger.

Mosquitoes here hide under tables and sneak attack your legs as soon as you sit down. Cheap bastards.

Here, taxis hail you. They'll even honk at you while driving past you in the opposite direction. And against all logic, this in no way implies that they are reasonably priced.

When trying to use some of my change to pay a restaurant tab, I was told that the 50 cent baht coin is only accepted at 7-11.

I just barely posted photos because I found a computer to transfer them from my camera to my tablet. I overlooked that small detail in my preparations. 

The finest in Thai comfort...

...for your nose.

Bunny

That last post was actually supposed lead in to the story of my last day in Phuket and my plans to move on. I don't remember if I got distracted or if I decided it was nothing to write home about. I'll summarize it here for good measure. I woke up two days ago feeling worlds better. I swear if I get sick fourteen or fifteen more times, I'll have to consider cutting this trip short. I went down to the beach with Kenny. I played in the waves like a kid. I rented a motorbike and scooted up a steep, winding, mountain road to a giant Buddha. I took pictures of that big guy, the sunset, and the panoramic view of the island and surrounding area.

View from the Big Budha

I met an American guy up there from the US Navy who admitted several times in our 10 minute conversation that he had no idea what exactly their purpose is. On my scoot back down the mountain road, I came across a baby elephant dancing in the middle of it. Seriously, where was his mother. Before heading home, I stopped at a bar with WiFi to hang out and relax for a bit. I met a nice German girl with whom I ended up having dinner and a coconut. That's not code for anything by the way, but "sharing a coconut" will be from here on out.  We exchanged emails and went our sperate ways.

Yesterday morning, I took the 8 am van, or "mini bus" (pffff!), from Kata to the Surat Thani train station. That was a pleasant four hour drive on which I started out alone, and ended up crammed in with a load of Thais that we picked up randomly along the way. Not to mention half way through the ride, the driver put on a live performance DVD of Thailand's very own Tom Jones, complete with entourage of scantily clad Thai backup singer/dancers. The only two sound settings seemed to be, "off" and, "headache."

I arrived at the train station at around 1pm and bought two consecutive night train tickets. Destination: Chiang Mai. The first train, to Bangkok, left at 6:38pm, which gave me plenty of time to wander around and write "Some Nights." I arrived in Bangkok this morning around 7 and I board the next train at 6 tonight. I'll get to Chiang Mai tomorrow around 6:30am. Sans stresse! 

Some Nights

Some nights I wonder to what extent I want to document my travel experience. Typically when I start writing about a particular moment or thought, I get distracted and end up diving in to an unnecessarily long resume of the entire day. Simply being aware of this tendency can discourage me from writing at all. This is the kind of thinking that has inhibited my productivity since middle school. I really ought to work on setting an intention for that...

I created this blog primarily for three reasons. First, I want a way for loved ones to keep tabs on me while I'm away to prevent any unnecessary worrying. Second, I want to keep something of a virtual journal for all the standard reasons one would keep a journal. Third, to maintain my desired level of (in)sanity on this solo journey, I thought it might be a good idea to have a constructive outlet for my creativity. Fifth, I need to kung fu my writing because I'm extremely slow and inefficient, and I'd like to develop my style.  Sixth, a wise man once said, "learn as much by writing as by reading." Seventh, I really enjoy having an audience, and the accompanying challenge of keeping you all engaged. Eighth, I would really like to demystify myself for those of you who haven't quite figured me out, as well as for those of you who are sure that you have. And ninth, I was too embarrassed to admit in person that I can't count. The ultimate goal: to find balance; a place where this blog, at the very least, satisfies our respective wants and needs of it.

In conclusion, I'd like you to listen to the song, "Some Nights" by Fun.. Queen meets Michael Jackson. I can't get enough. I walk around listening to it with a slight bounce in my step like it's my theme song. I like to imagine a little ant cruising along top a cliff like he owns the world, just before he gets flicked.