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. 

First Test

I'm fighting through the second onset of feverish aches. I spent most of today in bed. I haven't been able to eat much but I'm trying my best to stay hydrated. I hope this doesn't become a habitual thing. It's definitely testing my ability to remain positive. On the bright side, I've only spent about $10 in the last two days.

Kenny

Today is the first day that I felt the feeling that I came out here to feel. A healthy cocktail of uncertainty, discomfort, loneliness, homesickness, relief, and freedom. Although the latter two overpower the others, I've found it nice to take them all in. I keep reminding myself to breathe deep and live it up. My brother is gone and the vacation part of this journey is over. It was good initiation, but as anticipated, it's time to change my mindset so that I can make the most of this. I aim to be cheap, resourceful, proactive, grateful, and lucky. With the right attitude, anyone can be lucky. Take it from me, I've leaned this many times the easy way.

I left my glorified prison cell this morning ready to find a place to relax for a few days and do some research on where I'd like to go next. Fabrice had mentioned that Kata was a quieter part of the island just a few miles down the road. That's about all the convincing I needed. Feeling motivated and certainly not rushed, I hit the road on foot. It was a scenic route through the jungle hills that separate the beach towns. About two hours in, I stopped for lunch at a restaurant on a hill that overlooked that part of the island. The place was particularly relaxing to me. I'm not sure if it was just the contrast from Patong or what, but I stayed a good while there enjoying the calm and the view.

The view of Karon beach from my pit stop on the hill. Kata is the next beach over, by that little island on the right.

After that, I walked another couple hours to Kata and wandered aimlessly about the town in search of a cheap guesthouse. Finding them wasn't the problem though. I walked in one and nobody was at the desk. I walked in another and the lady was asleep on the couch next to the desk. I walked another few minutes and turned a corner when I heard, "backpacker?" in that familiar american accent. I turned to find a nice, older looking guy perched on a cement planter by the sidewalk. I said, "yes," and proceeded to engage in a very interesting conversation with this guy, Kenny. He's from Tucson, Arizona. He has lived on Phuket for five years but doesn't like the Thai people. He lived in Maui for five years before that. He has a 25-year old Philippino girlfriend. He made his money trafficking drugs and laundering money. He used to play high-stakes poker for supplemental income. And best of all, he came to Thailand because he used to frequent a Thai food joint at home with his buddy, and one day he said, "I bet the Thai food is cheaper in Thailand."

This all led to an open invitation to crash at his place for as long as I want. No sense turning that down, I say. He led me up a super steep hill around a few bends and showed me his place. My accommodations included my own bed, kitchen, bathroom, and living area. All this, neatly tucked away in the jungle with a decent view. I really don't plan on staying long but it sure is nice to know that I can, free of charge. Not to mention all the good tips and advice Kenny has for traveling around here.

How's that for beginners luck?

The view from Kenny's

Circus Life

I decided to leave Phi Phi with Fabrice yesterday and head back to Phuket to give ourselves a little more time together. He wanted to show me a little part of the island called Patong.

We strolled around this crazy place, randomly stopping for a beer at bars with the best views of the nightlife. Fabrice says Sin City, in it's literal sense, has got nothing on Patong. I might have to agree. Half the people you see are hookers and hagglers having a go at your money. You can't walk ten steps without someone whistling at you or grabbing your arm, or shoving a menu or some junky trinket in your face. "Ping pong show!" "Need a new suit?!" "Cheep beer!" "Hungry?" "Follow me!" "Massage!" "Ping pong show!" There were a shocking number of older white guys strutting around hand in hand with their little Thai prize. Bright lights and loud music in every direction. Mothers with their children walking around with their ass hanging out. A couple with a baby in a stroller with a beer in each cup holder. A family of five with young ones sitting front row at street ladyboy pole show. And college-aged beefcakes a plenty! I thought Murray was bad, these guys must have a hub here. I digress. There are no rules, which is actually a good thing since I only saw two cops all night.  It's crazy to think that people live here.

This whole scene is not exactly my cup of tea, but it is very worth seeing. Anyway, Fabrice took a cab to the airport at 10:30 pm and I retired to my cramped windowless room. It feels like a prison cell, with barely enough space for the bed and small table and chair that occupy it. The light even flickers and buzzes when you flip it on. I appreciate the dramatic effect. And having no windows turned out to be a blessing.  Without them, the ruckus out on the streets is only a faint background noise.

Koh Phi Phi

I've spent the last couple days with Fabrice on Koh Phi Phi.  The island is beautiful and has a lot to offer. There is a pretty eclectic group of travelers here.  Between the drunken Aussies who are here for the sole purpose of partying, to the island sport thrill seekers, and the day trip sight-seers, there is plenty of good people watching to do.

Wednesday night, Fabrice passed out early and I made the mistake of casually drinking two vodka-red bulls while checking my email.  This eventually led me to the dance party on the beach, complete with "buckets" and a fire show. I shook it amongst a sweet group of Russians. There was a bit of a communication barrier but that didn't stop us from having a good time.

Yesterday, we did a half day of rock climbing and ended up with a pretty cool guide. He looked like the Leo DiCaprio from the movie "The Beach," which happened to be filmed on a small island just a short boat ride from here. This kid recently graduated from the U of U and moved here at the beginning of the summer. He lived in Sugar House. That was an entertaining conversation. 

Tonight is shaping up to be a good night. Fabrice just brewed up a fresh batch of mojitos. The night dwellers are starting to come out of the woodwork, emerging from daylight hibernation like bats out of a cave.

Tomorrow is a big day for me. Fabrice needs to leave the island to head back to Shanghai for work. This could mean my first day on my own. The real adventure is about to begin and I still have no more of a plan than I did when I got here. Meh!

Last day on Phi Phi. Waiting for the boat to come take us away.

Mental Note

If you go to bed in Thailand next to a phone line with a thousand sleeping birds on it, you will wake up at the ass crack of dawn to the sound of them all singing a different song.

Thaiger Bomb

I sit on an airplane again, this time from Bangkok to Phuket, and I ponder the unlikely turn of events that has led to this moment.  Two years ago, almost exactly, the idea came up in an ambitious puppy love-driven conversation over breakfast at a little diner in Moab, Utah.  Over the next several months, that idea developed into a savings account and tentative dates.  A lack of commitment to the adventure kept pushing the dates back, and life's obstacles gradually gave an entirely new meaning to the possibility of taking off.

Roughly six months ago as I was sitting at my desk doing the kind of fruitless work that makes a man crazy, I paused a long moment and said to myself out loud, "I need to get out of here."  The idea settled in again.  Not only did I need a change of scenery, I desperately needed to put to rest the notion that the responsibilities my father left behind when he passed away were a permanent fixture in my life.  At that moment though, I was mostly referring to my physical location so I committed to spending several weeks adventuring out on my own.

The experience was intense and eye-opening.  I managed to rediscover my sense of freedom, and for the first time in my life, I surrendered myself completely to love.  This phenomenon, that somehow generates absolute empowerment from the most vulnerable state of being, became my driving force to go out and explore.  I became very curious to experience life under this new light, and without the distractions brought on by the routine and habits of daily life at home.  So in mid June I bought a one way ticket to China for September 27th, a day that, coincidentally, has now marked the beginning of two of the greatest phases of my life.

Now here I am.  Two years in the making and under polar opposite circumstances of what I had originally envisioned.  But perfect nonetheless.

Amateur Hour

If you didn't know any better, you might think today is the first time I'd been in an airport since 9/11.  When I repacked my things this morning, I put my pocket knife in the day pack part of my backpack.  You know, the part I use as my carry-on. Whoops!  First casualty of the trip.  Then after about ten minutes of wandering inside the international terminal, I realized that I didn't have my passport or boarding pass.  Whoops!  Luckily there was really only one place I could have left it, so I took a stroll back to security and picked it up. 

Overpacked!

What I've lost in pocket clutter, I've more than made up for in backpack fillings. I thought I packed pretty light but it's clear as I prepare for the next leg of my trip that I went way overboard.  Six t-shirts is apparently about double what I need, as is three pair of pants and two shorts.  Who knew that stripping down to the bare necessities would be so difficult for someone who packs a full bar, 20 hobo dinners, and a Bob-A-Que every time he goes car camping?