My Calendar

A day in Chiang MY Part 5: MY CALENDAR
(for the curious, the voyeurs, the stalkers, and the haters)

So many things I’m learning, an endless multitude of pretty things, little things, that happen each day that are stretching my world, mind and spirit. I actually write down a short list every day in my calendar of mostly where I’ve been, who I’ve met, and sometimes what induced any strong feelings. Down the line, this skeleton record will make the outlines with which I can re-draw the many beautiful pictures, each worth a thousand words, of these days. (In my case, maybe millions of words per picture!) With the click of a button, I could share this with the world, right here.

Why would I want to? Maybe because I like to share, give all I have, which right now is just Me. Transparency is so attractive to me. I like people who aren’t scared. Maybe it’s because I hunger for connections with people, or because I want you to know who I really am, beyond what you can gather of me through trite conversations that we have in limited moments and with limited technology, so that We can be better. I have a feeling that the meaning of life is to love one another. And how can we love something we don’t really know, or have the time to get to know? Have you ever thought about how little we know about each other, what’s going on with our friends and family, in their heads?

I can think of a bunch of reasons why NOT to share it. I’m not worried about my privacy. Sure, it could lead to issues and judgements. (I write about hot girls & food a lot.) Maybe it’s just putting out TMI. It’s a record for me, but why only me? I wish I knew what YOU were up to!

Another reason to share my calendar might be as simple as to answer the question you might be wondering “what am I doing?” And if you asked me, I wouldn’t know how to begin to answer that. People might look at my vagabonding as a waste. Without a job, it might seem like I’m not doing anything with my life. But I feel the opposite is true. I’ve always felt that with a job, I was never doing anything. I was wasting my life making money. Right now, however, I’m growing. I’m emotional. I’m happy. I’m free. I’m myself. I’m living. I’m lucky. I’m extremely lucky. Kim said it best tonight… “This is my life!”

Wild Birthday

A day in Chiang MY Part 4: WILD B-DAY
(for new age hippies who aren’t afraid to love)

Next we went to Wild Rose Studio and Sauna, a place I’ve heard about so many times and was so happy to finally visit. A fellow I met this morning actually invited me to the Friday night Sauna, and perhaps it was cosmic coincidence again that Azriel also frequented it. We arrived pretty late (10PM) and all the 25 sets of sarongs were taken, but it was no big deal because the scene there was complete without it. It was one of the yoga teacher’s birthday, so 9 of us sat in the beautiful teak yoga studio and celebrated. In exquisite contrast to the usual Friday night and Birthday alternatives, we commemorated the evening with vice-less conversation, sing-along serenades, sharing of chocolate treats, and group activities to smother the lovely Kim Grace with deep affection. I can’t imagine a more perfect and pure way to cherish a birthday person.

The first game went like this… Kim agrees to do deep listening, in which she will take all the words we will say and receive them without interjection, meditating on the sound and her own breath. With eyes closed and wrapped in her blanket (body warmer than usual from the sauna but chilly now in the cool night air), she listened. Like we were composing a birthday card, we told her what we like about her. Individually and collectively, we went for complete meltdown. When it was my turn, everyone laughed because I had known Kim for all of 5 minutes before we started this, but I too had something honest to say, based on my first encounter and from what I could gather from her friends and her energy in that moment. She was speechless, trembling and only able to say Wow and giggle. Azriel sang the most beautiful song. Niceties ensued, and Kim couldn’t underscore how powerful it was to combine meditation, her breath, the sounds of caring words and loving energy focused on her. It was time for another game. Kim was blindfolded and told to lay down on the floor. Beginning like “light as a feather…” we lifted her up into the air, then walked around the room, levitated her up and down, then undulated her. After five minutes of this (and in complete silence) we placed her down, and tapped her skin like as if we were typing. Then we held our fingers on her for a while, slowly took them away, but held them an inch away, letting the energy keep flowing (and boy did I feel it!), then pulled away. She totally freaked out, in the best way possible. We all got mad hugs and it was simply beautiful.

A note on family. I’ve always said that family are the people you choose to be around. When I heard of Wild Rose, everyone said the Energy was amazing. And today I met Rose, the woman who runs the place. I actually saw her this afternoon at lunch, and she had amazing energy. Anyway, one of the things I said about Kim during the oral birthday card is that I walked in, right past her, and from across the room her radiant eyes found me and initiated warm warm introductions and Welcomes. I immediately felt at ease, comfortable among these 15 strangers. Wild Rose is a family, and they’re not connected by merely by work, or yoga. Millions of people work and exercise together without ever forming any real bonds with each other. The like-spirited are drawn to Rose’s creation, and if they like it, they stick around. They are open and welcoming, an I’d love to embody that intense open love someday. Is it weird that Kim celebrated her birthday with me? Not at all! Because if I continued to come back, (and they were all like Awwwww when I told them I was leaving tomorrow), I would be part of the family too.

I was invited to tomorrow night’s Kirtan, but alas I will be on a night bus speeding into the beyond by that hour. I am happy however that I’m actually open to the singing and chanting. (And I might as well get used to it, as I’m heading to the World Rainbow Gathering in New Zealand, which starts in only 10 days!) All this exploring of diverse cultures (and inextricably religion as well) can’t be meaningful as a voyeur, which is why it’s so important to stay and learn as much about it from the locals and families who ARE these cultures as possible. I see it as an opportunity to synthesize all these tastes and impressions into an personal experience, and it’s too bad I can’t hang around longer.

I could blab on forever.

Shabbat with Azriel

A day in Chiang MY Part 3: SHABBAT WITH AZRIEL
(In case you care about what I did for dinner tonight)

I hung out with some sweet people tonight. Two nights ago, at one of my favorite cheap vegetarian restaurants where I was enjoying a 100% veg. noodle soup, I met a guy named Azriel. We got to talking about how a sustainable lifestyle and technology go hand-in-hand, and decided to move-on to another spot so I could help him with some Mac stuff & talk some more about eco-villages. 1AM later, we had put in 6 hours! (I did this last week too in Chiang Rai, after chatting up a fellow who had a 3-week new first Mac, I decided to stay another day so we could have a geek session, which went swimmingly and was totally worth it, like I have anything better to be doing!) In both cases, I think I made life-long friends.

Tonight he invited me over for a Shabbat pot-luck at this apartment, a small gathering of just seven, and it was great, especially the warm feeling of community Azriel forged. Also this sweet potato/pumpkin dessert I brought with sticky rice and coconut milk was to die for. And the best part of it was that it was all vegan and cheap, as the restaurant gave me so much of it (closing time special) for only 25 baht ($.70!) I LOVE THAILAND! Don’t get me started about getting hooked-up at the veggie restaurants. (It happens every time, and I largely suspect it’s because the Veg Community are an especially awesome segment of humanity, much like the Mac Community is especially awesome (in general, with exceptions of course) but they never writes viruses! Take that, PC community!

Our dinner host has this tradition of Friday night Shabbat here in Chiang Mai since he arrived 16 months ago, one of his pot-lucks drawing 72 people from 17 countries (and 5 religions too, including 4 Buddhist monks from Cambodia!) Before eating, we said some short Jewish prayers, but more importantly we shared stories with each other that reflected the theme of one prayer, in which, according to a certain Rabbi, real entities (Angels) are said to come join the Shabbat upon the singing of the traditional verses, and that We were, in effect, angels too who had come (as many important biblical figures weren’t even aware that they were indeed sent by God to fulfill a divine purpose), and he prompted us to share Who was your angel in this week? Everyone’s unhurried anecdotes were touching and grounding, of everyday kindness, echoing how we are touched by so many people. Azriel thanked ME for appearing to him in the evening of a day where nothing was going right, to help him through computer issues he’s been grappling with for months. (He was so appreciative at the time, buying me drinks and dessert at A Taste of Heaven, veggie spot Deluxe!) At my turn, I thanked HIM for providing me some community, real people outside of the backpacker ghettos, tourist bars and markets, when it seemed I could use it the most, experiencing for the last day or so that familiar irony of feeling alone in a city with so many people, (also due in part to staying in a guest house for once instead of with a host.) I’m also extremely grateful for him rekindling my interest in volunteering on Eco-villages, as I’ve discerned already that these villages have been the best and most relevant to my interests, going beyond organic farming and really embracing permaculture and green technology. He’s lived on many such farms, taken courses, and knows a lot of people who run them. This was coming to me cosmically, having had two other connections with people in the last 48 hours regarding eco-villages: my Jungle Flight partner Steve who recommended Cinderland in Hawaii, and a Couchsurfer I’ve been conversing with who is currently taking a Permaculture Design Course near Chiang Mai. The sudden clarity in direction is a gift indeed.

Chiang Mai Zoo

A day in Chiang MY Part 2: CHIANG MAI ZOO
(for you animal lovers…)

Today started like many before it: I slept till 11, went across the street for amazing veg. food (at one of my favorite FIVE veggie spots that I know about so far) including hill tribe coffee and a vegan cinnamon bun (by Joel’s suggestion & request for me to bring him as many as I can carry to Bangkok COD) which was divine. Then I biked around town, somewhat aimlessly, towards another town some 20km NW of town called Doi Suthep. It’s SO FUN to have a bike wherever I go, as I can explore far, wide, and throughly. Not only am I getting to know my way around this city pretty well by now, which actually is an accomplishment given there are hundreds of tiny winding streets as old as Thailand itself, but I can leave town and get into other uncharted neighborhoods. No plans, no playing tourist at the mercy of the Lonely Planet and tuk-tuk drivers, no money necessary. Anyway, I met a cyclist just outside the Zoo 5km beyond town and he told me he was headed to Doi Suthep too, 15km uphill from here. So I ducked into the Zoo. (Sure, it could have been nice to have a 15km ride down back into town, but I had better things to do with my precious daylight hours today!)

the 3 hippos were so big and cute (and piggie-like)

The Zoo was cool. I love animals, and I enjoy visiting zoos far and wide, controversial as it may be. I’m always just happy to see these precious creatures at all, watching, talking, and laughing with them, while getting to check-out their digs. I think you can learn a lot about people, as a culture, by how they treat their animals. The Chiang Mai zoo was impressive. More like a huge sprawling nature park with bits of Zoo interspersed. (Many of the signed attractions were 1-2km in-between, but there were trams and a monorail for a small price.) It felt like a cross between Central Park and the Botanical Gardens. It was also tastefully designed and decorated to accentuate the natural landscape, with flowers, winding paths, and sculpted elements ala Disney (again!), like fake giant trees to play and check out the views in, or arches that looked like wood but were adorned cool animal formations throughout.

The exhibits themselves were hit or miss. Many of the extravagant animal homes were unoccupied, while others had a modest number of inhabitants (which was surprising and nice in contrast to always seeing zoo animals so packed-in.) There were roughly 10 penguins, 8 mountain sheep, 6 spotted deer, 4 koalas, 3 hippos and giraffes, 2 Asiatic black bears, and a partridge in a pear tree. Another modest thing was that admission was a mere 100 baht ($3), and parking 1 baht (3 cents) for bikes. (50 for cars, suckers!) Some special exhibits cost extra… for example I paid another 100 baht to see Giant Pandas, but consistent with their theme of modest extravagance, there was only 1 small family of pandas living in the Snow Dome, of which I saw the dad (well, his butt actually, with his head in a hole). The mom and her new baby “Lin Ping” are only on display for one hour in the morning each day, but there was a panda cam in their absence (still cute, but ridiculous to pay extra for.)

One funny surprise was the Jungle Shooting Range on one end of the park, where you could tote actual handguns and large firearms, shooting at who-knows-what. (wth?) All in all it was good fun, a nice place to relax and take a long walk… haha I was following the signs to the Koalas (remember I said some things were kilometers away) when a lady walking behind me said to her girlfriends “It’s like that short walk in the refugee camp.” I was muffling my laughter for a while.

there was a 7-Eleven in the Zoo! | a male peacock showed me his hind-feathers

Happy Birthday, Your Highness!

Friday, December 6, 12:37 AM
Chiang Mai, Thailand

A day in Chiang MY Part 1: HAPPY BDAY YOUR MAJESTY!
(for the loyal and reverent, who still read this sappy dribble)

I officially love Chiang Mai. It’s now my fifth time passing through here, and it just gets better every time. I didn’t even plan to stay here this time, but I passed through on my way back down to Bangkok from Laos, got smitten all over again and sucked in, so I postponed my onward bus ticket until the latest possible one that’ll get me into Bangkok with enough time to pack up my bike in a box for my flight to New Zealand on Tuesday. I’m here again because it’s the largest city in the north, a hub for exploring all things up here, but it’s also officially the crown jewel of the North, a gorgeous city, big and small enough to have it all, so it’s always a pleasure. Long story short, I feel like I could live here. There, I said it.

As usual, since I’m too long-winded, I can’t write about anything but today, which was magical. Oh, and speaking of Today, it’s the Kings Birthday! Happy Birthday, King Bhumibol Adulyadej! He’s 82, and still the longest reigning monarch in the country’s history. There was a big parade in Bangkok last night, all lit-up with floats of a million LEDs, the likes of which Disney would give their big white-gloved thumbs-up of approval to. I was playing ping-pong in a guesthouse foyer with some kids and they put it on the TV. Tomorrow, in honor of his majesty, there will be a huge food fest, giving of alms at the temples to pray for his lasting health and happiness, a candlelit procession by the main gate of the moat-surrounded inner Chiang Mai town, in addition to the lady at my favorite vegetarian restaurant serving completely free food all day. I’m excited to have the opportunity of celebrating him on my last day in town.

The King and my Green Monster

Parade floats painted the Bangkok streets with illuminated splendour

Dogs, Cats & Foul Play

The dogs don’t bark in Laos. In a month, only one dog barked at me, and it was my last night, in the border town of Huay Xai. I was walking with some friends to a dinner party down the street and this unruly fellow was barking, hi how ya doing?! And I thought to myself, who is this boisterous dog? Then, again, on the way home the loudmouth was hollering, woof woof woof, woofing us all the way down the street. So I snap “You know, you’re the only dog in Laos who barks at people! Put a lid on it!” Mi amigos laughed because it’s so true, and I was serious! (My suspicion is that he’s a Thai dog who was on the wrong side of the Mekong.)

Besides this misguided one, the Lao dogs were so sweet. Trotting along beside you, laying in the road, a little sniff sniff, looking at you without pleading or confrontation. In groups, they played a lot, like pups. Most of the time though, I saw them lying in the shade being lazy, lying on their side, with all four legs out. The typical Lao mutt generally has a healthy-looking reddish brown coat, a husky-look, with fox-like ears and shorter than average legs. Even at night, walking along village streets, they didn’t bark at me. I never saw any Lao people beat their dogs (which is unique out here), and i conjecture that they’re just softies, without fear or aggressive complexes due to mistreatment. I bet they eat well, as most Lao seem to have plenty of sticky rice and bbq meat to go around. Happy dogs, happy cyclist!

riverside cow parade in Vang Vieng

I didn’t see many cats, but those that I did fell into two categories: the wild ones, and the house-cats. I’m sure most of ‘em had a place to call home, but the ones I saw outside had such smug little wild looks! Such pusses, with their grey and black striped markings and long squinting, almost sneering eyes. (Don’t look at me, Meeeeorrrrrw!) Weird. The few cats I saw indoors were plump, furry, and rolled around and tackled each other like kittens, sometimes right in front of me on the restaurant table. None of the humans seemed to mind.

Which reminds me of another thing I always found so cute… hearing people Sssssssst! away the animals, usually ducks, or pigs. Remarkably, a vast majority of the livestock were free range. So they were getting into everything, in the shops, munching on produce when people weren’t looking, crossing the road, checking me out. So big pigs lied about with their piglets scurrying around adorably, usually within oinks-distance of momma. Ducks waddled across the street, adding to the traffic of whom the oblivious dogs, without a care in the world, comprised the majority. Cows fed along the road, on the river banks, and in the corn and rice fields. Roosters, chickens, turkeys, and their chicks could be found in every yard, tweeting, clucking, and chattering (from well before sunrise) until sunset, to keep together I guess? I think it’s funny how I describe everyone in the road, cuz that’s where I was most of the time, as endless farm land surrounded me always. But they were often in the road, where all the action (and trash) is, lucky for me!

Another priceless aspect of everyday life was people poking around in your yard, so you see some kid outside your kitchen window in the garden, and you ask him what’s up and he’s looking for his chicken. And there he is! Next he’s taking off back home with the bird under his arm like he’s making a touchdown run. I saw this ALL the time, always some kid or boy or man making a mad dash with his chicken. So funny.

little animals w beerlao

It’s too bad that vegetarianism is virtually non-existent in Laos, but at least the animals get to lead care-free, natural lives until their untimely fates. Another sad thing is that some of these happy dogs end up on the dinner table. Yep, they eat dog (in all the SE Asian countries). I saw one in the market on the butcher block, and it freaked me out on par with seeing the barbecued turtle in Cambodia. But that’s life in the animal kingdom, I suppose. It actually got me thinking… Every week thousands of dogs are euthanized in the USA. It’s so sad, so many would-be best friends going into the gas chamber or lethally injected, and then what? Maybe they’re buried, or more likely they’re burned. What a waste. (The real problem is the pet industry, and all the nitwit people who lose-interest, neglect, and discard animals without the respect and right to life that an earthly-being deserves… but that’s another topic altogether.) Anyway, the Asians EAT them. We just throw them away. That’s food for thought.

On that note, love thy animals, and please take a moment to consider their journey in this world to your dinner plate (or to your local pound). It’s not all bad, but much of it is, and it’s easy to stop the suffering by being accountable for your choices and consumption. Or you can just say No to reduce and eliminate your demand on the system.

i especially loved @zackkahn's thanksgiving tweet: shit, i'm just thankful i'm not a turkey

i went to a fish bbq in Oudomxay. was kinda cool how they just netted some fish in the pond & roasted them up. and in a banana leaf bundle (fg) are fish eggs. interesting to me that I won't partake in caviar, even though I eat chicken eggs. (i have some double-standards!) it was a nice party for all (except the fish ;) btw, i'm still an ovo-lacto vegetarian, but i've kissed fish goodbye from my diet for now. since i saw the turtle on the barbie, i've had more empathy for all my aquatic friends.

a little piggy joined us! he kept munching out of the fish food bag, soliciting some Ssssst!'s in the process

Cloudsurfing

As difficult as any day in the saddle is, it packs its share of exhilarating moments. Downhills are an everyday pleasure, both reward and time to acknowledge that Oh My Goodness I’m Flying Through The Most Breathtaking Scenery, Again. And in my American-borne quest for a unique life, there’s also a satisfaction that few have savored this pleasure.

Each day I wake up before dawn, to make the most of the cool morning (as sunny midday biking is a lot harder.) Depending on my altitude, I’ll start my morning either in a Cloud, above it, or below it. Maybe fog or mist is more accurate, but in any case it’s wet, and collects on my face, arms, legs, and drips from the tip of my nose and helmet. If I’m starting high, I’ll see it from above, enveloping the valley. I’ll descend into it, through it, and emerge below it to enjoy the clear views of the river cutting the landscape in half, and then (if I’m unlucky) I’ll start climbing up into the cloud again. By the time I reach the next summit the sun has vaporized it and blue skies appear. Even though I’m a just tiny mouse in the unspoiled scenery, sometimes I feel like I’m playing with the elements, slowly but surely changing the weather around me…

I started my morning atop a big hill, after mostly climbing for the last 2 days. My reward: a 25km downhill cruise!

through the foliage, a sea of white

i’d be going down into this cloud in a few minutes (as speeding downhill at 50km/hr doesn’t last long)

down we go. it’s not raining, but my body and glasses are collecting moisture

check out that morning dew!

at the bottom, I’m below the weather.

now i climb for 15km! up we go again!

i bust out. after about an hour I begin to see the blue beginning to seep through

the hills are so eerie and beautiful in this half fog

living on the edge

with the climbing and downhill plunging mosty behind me, i’ll follow the river valley for the rest of the day

the sights along the Nam Ou river won’t quit

Alone

People regularly ask me how many people I’m traveling with, and when I say it’s only me they unanimously tell me that traveling would be better with more people, a group of two being the popular best bet. Reasons cited: camaraderie, to share the experiences, troubleshooting. I meet independent travelers often, and all of them own it, including me. I guess you don’t know if it’s for you until you’ve tried it, and you’re in the place to enjoy it.

I’m also in training, working to relearn and rethink my choices and dependencies. I often ask myself, “Why am I doing [this]?”, “Why do I like [this]?”, and “Why do I feel [this way]?” One of my compulsions which I’ve identified and questioned is “Am I too dependent on the company of others?” My history shows me almost always hanging out with other people… and I’ve often thought that I lack the independence to “do my own thing”. Challenging this, wanting to grow more intimate with my self, was one exciting aspect of this journey.

So how’s it going? Really awesome. I’m not lonesome at all. I’m also happy to feel the peace of myself… it’s a brand new feeling, perhaps not possible for me until now, in my little wooden room on a cliff with a balcony overlooking the Mekong River. Here I’m free to read, write, listen to music, sleep. It’s crazy, but I’ve never in my life felt like I could do these things before. I can’t recall a moment yet where I’ve wished for another to share the experience, the pain, or the meal with. (The exception is sharing a nap… just kidding, I’m actually fine without girls too.) When I want company, or more specifically if someone looks interesting, I’ll introduce myself. Granted, I’ve never felt alone, except when by choice (like tonight, when I’m trying to write!)

On the road, cycling, I face my share of challenges. Actually, every day nearly brings me to the brink of giving up. Yesterday I rode 100km in about 6hrs of pedaling, and it wasn’t easy, but I made it. Today I had only 55km to my goal and it took me 3hrs pedaling, but it felt like 8. I’ve said it before, but I really enjoy every other day… and the ones in-between are the hard ones. But I’m discovering and breaking my limits. On both good and bad days, I need to explore the depths of my mind and body to find energy to go on… it also helps that I have all the time in the world, if I resort to just “going through the motions”. But that almost never happens… I always want to be moving efficiently, to make good time, to get it over with.

And I’m continually breaking new ground. When I said the mind games are fantastic, I mean it. Sometimes I’m on TV a la Tour de France, (I am being watched most of the time); at times an imaginary rope is pulling me faster up the hill (and it truly does); I pretend I’m the last man on earth and I don’t actually have a destination (which helps defeat the goal and be in the present), and since there are often people & animals around, I see them in my periphery as humanimals rebuilding the world. In the tradition of my video-gaming childhood, I collect a variety of Power-Ups, exchange smiles and Sai-ba-dee’s (greetings) for energy, get juiced by other people hard at work (as I’ve imagined for much of the last year the tireless old Nepali women schlepping water and bundles of logs on their backs up and down hills), and I enlist the company of countless cows, ducks, dogs, buffalo and the occasional pair of happy-go-lucky goats to help me along. I’m working on a variation of the Walking Meditation too… not so much luck there, but it something to keep working on!

Laos Kills Me

Monday, November 23, 9:13 PM
Muang Houn, Oudomxay Province, Laos

They’re killing me with kindness! It’s past my bedtime, but I need to write about Laos! It’s amazing, but I never have a chance to reflect (except when I’m biking) as I’m never alone. One of the things that boggles most people’s minds (Esp. the Lao) about my solo-trip is that I don’t have any companions, but don’t they know that they are so warm and hospitable that I don’t need any?

Today while I was pedaling down from Oudomxay, I was burning to write. I wanted to just stop and go at it, but when you’ve got 100km to pump through there are NO excuses to prolong it! I was afraid of how long my next journal entry would be… 16 topics in my shortlist. I see so much every day and it takes so long to put it down in writing! When I arrived here, in the biggest village for 100km in either direction – yeah, there’s just one way or the other to go from here! – which has no internet and didn’t have any power until about 30 minutes ago, I was too wiped out to write. I took my freezing cold bucket shower, walked to the market for some snacks (of banana, potato, carrot and kaf-fae Lao), and then I crashed out (at 2pm!) I awoke to the blaze of a small bamboo grove going up in smoke outside my window against a plum red sky, so I got up to watch the sunset.

With three hours to grab a small bite and to write, I had my evening planned out. I walked into town and ate my second meat noodle soup today. (I’m just having back luck with food today, finding myself hungry and in totally non-touristed towns, where the only warm food to buy that’s not actual meat is a noodle soup without meat… but that broth left my tummy feeling animal fattened, yuck! (And no, I didn’t even enjoy it.) I managed to go pure-veg for my in-between-lunch-and-dinner-noodle-soup… a packet of instant noodles, munched without water or flavouring! (It’s hard outside of the cities to find real veg food beyond raw fruits & veggies.) Folks out here eat at home, so in this case I’m left without many options. (BTW, I’ve been so well cared-for in Laos that tonight is only my fifth night in a guest house this whole month, the rest have been with couch surfers and random Lao people!

So I was going to write all about my last week, touring and chilling a real Lao city (no tourists), and then tonight happened. As always, I don’t want to write about last week now… I want to write about today!

So I’m slurping noodles when a guy on a motorbike pulls up and starts making small talk. He asks where I’m staying, so I tell him (I’ve become quite accustomed to having no sense of privacy anymore), and he asks if he can come by after his bath (Laos people bathe 3x a day!) to talk to me and practice his English. I say “Sure!” I’m peeling and eating a new kind of potato, it’s white and sweet, eavesdropping on the English language class going-on in a simple bamboo classroom next to my guest house. My new friend, Mr. Sovung, 17, (everybody calls each other “Mr.” in Laos, it’s so polite and cute), pulls up and asks me if I’d like to go to his English school to talk to the class and meet his teacher. I say “Sure!” From the bamboo classroom emerges the son of the guest house, and asks me if I can come into his class first. Sure! I meet his class of twenty shy smiling teens, introduce myself, and I try to make small talk. I’ve never taught English before so I don’t have any exercises to try out on them, but I tried asking their names and ages and they were too shy to really respond, and then I learned that it was a beginner’s class, and they only had a few months of instruction. Also, foreigners apparently never come to Houn District as there’s no draw, so I might have been the first foreigner that many of the kids have ever met! I kind of loved it, because they were nevertheless thrilled to have me.

Next I hopped on Mr. Sovung’s motorbike and he took me to the school. Class was in session, and the small classroom was filled with at least 40 teens, five students to a bench, girls on the left and boys on the right. I introduced myself, wrote my name on the board, which none of them could come close to pronouncing the TH in my name (which is why I often introduce myself as Anto), and we had some conversation. I was mindful to speak slowly and pronounce my words with care. I think all the girls (and most of the guys) had a big crush on me. It’s so funny how the teacher, Mr. Xaiyaphoum, and all guys kept telling me how handsome and beautiful I am. The girls just said it with their giggles whenever we made eye contact. After a session of about 30 minutes, the students cleared out through the rear of the classroom, and from an unusually small door in the front of the classroom 40 new students piled-in, (which makes three classes!) I think this was the advanced group, as we had some really good chat and pronunciation time during the next hour. I was the first foreigner to visit the class in three years, so it actually was good practice to speak English with me. Mr. Sovung was in this group, and during our conversation when I asked him how he is, he replied very hungry, as he was so excited that I accepted his invitation that he forgot to eat dinner. I was invited back many times, also to come to their homes, and out for dinner (by the teacher). We talked about our religions, and I learned how the Hmong (one of the ethnic groups here) kill a cow when a family member passes away, and a chicken when a child a born. They all wanted to know if I was married, or if I had any pictures of my girlfriend, (especially the teacher). One girl, 13, asked my number so I gave it her, and the rest of the class. Hands were shook. Photos were taken. I was reassured many times that I’m very handsome, and one kid said “Sorry I’m so ugly” as we snapped a photo together. I gave them my email and website, promising to write to them if they ever want to practice their written English with an American friend, and I recommended they join Couchsurfing.com if they’d like to have more guests come visit their town in the future. And suggested they include their mobile numbers in their profiles since there’s no email within 2 hours drive.

Mr. Sovung gave me a ride home, very slowly so we could talk more, and told me he’s having some trouble at home. His parents are divorcing, his sister is going to school in Vientiane (the little big Laos city) and there’s not enough money to go around. I asked what he wanted to be for a career, and he answered a tour guide for foreigners, so he can speak English, although his future is uncertain as they won’t have enough money to send him to school too. I can see how in this tiny village, the world and its possibilities can seem so small.

I never wanted to be an English teacher, as among the international group it seems so ordinary. As far as legitimate work goes, it’s reputedly not a bad way to make income, but the very idea of working for money out here puts me off. (All the NGOs get a bad enough rep for wasting valuable funds on over-paid workers.) I have visited some English language classes in the past year, mostly private lessons with a dozen or less kids, but Mr. Xaiyaphoum teaches three classes every night (for over 100 students), after his daytime job, and I can see how he’s single-handedly trying to help out his village without making much profit. The kids are hungry for the knowledge, and it’s these kids who need help from the more fortunate. From volunteers all over this country, I think the best work, like many of the best things in life, come for free. Why am I leaving SE Asia in a week again? There’s so much here to do and get into! And only one of woeful me.

How I Really Feel About Laos

Wednesday, November 18, 11:50 PM
Oudomxay, Laos

This is it. Thailand first did it, then Cambodia did it. Day one in Vientiane did it to me with a cherry on top. Girls. I think that this second time back, I’m really feeling the women. (Not in a pervy way, but in a muse-ical way.)  I’ve always dreamed about loving my way across the planet, and now I’m living it, feeling that love energy. People are amazing, and girls are no exception. I forgot what it was to have real crushes, real attractions to them, and now it’s like I’ve hit puberty again and my mind is in the gutter. It’s funny how this part of your being becomes subdued when you’re bored. Well I hope my fantasies don’t show too much in my eyes. Ahhh, I like the Lao. (This was a personal entry, but what have I got to hide?  Don’t be mad.)

What I’m attracted to is girls in their natural state. I’ve always been put off by make-up, high heels and attitude which suggest “sophistication”. (Wow, just looked-up sophistication as: to become less simple or straightforward through education or experience in the Oxford dictionary, and it’s totally the right word. Wow… that’s too perfect.) I was listening to a Weezer song yesterday during my death ride up to Pakmong with the lyrics “Why are all American girls so tough?” and it made me so happy because in making a blanket generalization that I wouldn’t dare, Weezer did it for me and I can smile. I’ve always lusted way more after the short dirty cute girls in flip-flops and pajamas to the fancy ones, because they’re more real.

Lao people in general, at least the landslide that I’ve met, have noticeably lacked the big Ego that ruins so many people everywhere. Men are more men, being in their own light fairer than their western counterparts, and also grossly oblivious to the superficial gender roles that would prevent them from wearing pink helmets and being good family men. Girls are a whole different animal, more purely amazing than I can describe. They’re gentle. They’re graceful. They’re cute, simple and uncomplicated. (I know that sounds ridiculous, but for real, man, they’re not wearing the Mask!)  They smile and giggle and go all out, not reluctant to laugh and play. They stick together without the typical jealousy that accompanies female relationships, and also take care of their men, including family, friends, acquaintances, and husbands. I am used to some tough women, and I wonder why it is that American girls are so tough?

A similar case could be made for the Lao men. Eliminate the Ego and your new friend will share, extend, engage, care, and be fully present with you. It’s not just for you the Foreigner, it’s the whole circle of humanity around that he will open himself to. Yesterday I was slooowly working my up the road through a village when an man called out of his front porch, inviting me in to have a meal with the family (of whom I could see no less than a dozen through the door behind him.) He was old, grey, with a beautiful twinkle of a boy in his eyes, and surely he didn’t speak a word of English, but I was his kin and I was Welcome to join his family for a bite, and surely a beer. (He was also wearing a cute pink hat.) The culture of sharing beer here is special. It immediately breaks down any barriers and makes you a part of things… the love is not isolated to blood and association. Everyone is equal, or at least is worthy. We’re all sharing one glass, and you better drink up because we’re all in this together!

I’m lucky, once again, to fall into the arms of a really neat Couchsurfer. He’s Mister Kay, a German volunteering in a school, and living with another German girl who’s volunteering in the town’s only Tourist office. (This is NOT a touristy town, of all the big ones in Laos, and it has a bonafide government-sponsored information center, which she works for. In five days here I didn’t see any other tourists!) So Luisa’s naturally and unexpectedly become my host too, and they’re both just very cool, altruistic, and non-Egotistical humans. They fit right-in, as I’ve seen with the Laos around them. They are in it, and fully participating. Wow, it feels like we’re all really Living.

Tomorrow’s gonna rock. I’ve been invited back to the college for a custom-prepared vegetarian lunch, I’ll go hit the hills (on foot) with my qualified tourist guide/housemate, and I’m in Laos! I honestly want to go back to every city I’ve dipped-down in so far here. I’ve left a piece of my heart in all of them. Could she be the one? Laos, how sweet you are.