I dreamed of Africa...

Smiling faces from the township school

View from Table Mountain...the 2010 World Cup stadium is just out of view to the right!

An amazing story....read on!

1 of our many animal encounters. A herd takes their drink!

African sunsets really ARE all that!

The green and waterfalls just outside of Kruger

It's been far too long since I've written, and, well, I'd say it's about time! As I sit out looking at the 10 stars that occupy the Bangkok sky, and enjoy the 5 degree drop in temperature, which, for the record, merely makes it bearable but has me believing I'm experiencing a proper Christmas season, something (perhaps my and Rach's rendition of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and"Circle of Life" while strolling home) has pulled me back to my journey to Africa-- and the memories are sweet.

Rachel and I landed in Joburg, South Africa with 2 weeks, the open road, a complete lack of reliable maps and planning, and our rent-a-car Zed ahead. We were out of Joburg as soon as we were in it, and passed through the most dangerous city in the world without so much as a second thought. Our first stop took us to Sabie, a tiny dot on the map surrounded by green mountains and of course the beautifully bright lavender Jacaranda trees. Our big welcome to our first South African town, after flying for nearly 17 hours and driving an additional 5, was a water problem. Meaning no shower (ouch) and no toilets until things were fixed. Our silly misunderstanding had us believing that it was just this particular guest house we pulled in to---and thought the problem could easily be solved by 1) going elsewhere or 2) getting a discount that would make popping a squat and holding out for a shower a bit longer worth it. But turns out, when the town is as small as this one, everyone in it experiences water problems simultaneously. Duh. The water never did come back on that day/night and we found ourselves 'showering' in the pool. As you do. The next day was spent painfully surrounded by green, mountains, waterfalls, and friendly locals before entering the vastness of Kruger National Park. We spent the next 3 nights in the park, acting as our own Safari guides and striking it lucky in more ways then my mind can grasp. The animals were UNREAL and there really is nothing like looking out over the flat nothingness to see animals grazing on the horizon. I think my favourite were the giraffes, but it's hard to choose a favourite when, for 3 days, you literally see more (this is only the list of the names I know...forget about the ones that had a 'what in the hell is that' reaction) hyenas, impala, eagles, giraffes, zebras, wart hogs, rhinos, elephants, guinea fowls, wilde beasts, springboks, baboons, leopards, lions, birds, kudos, ostriches, monkeys, buffalo then you can count. One of our most amazing experiences came when we cut the engine and sat on the roof of Zed watching and listening to the hippos in the lake. They alone had us mesmerized. Then we saw the crocs. Then the herd of Zebra and wilde beast walked right past us to get a drink. Then it was the buffalo's turn. Then, through the bush came a herd of 35+ elephants (babies and all) to have their drink. Then the monkey's (so carefully taking their drink---surely to avoid the fate of hippo snack) and impalas. Nothing could have shaken us from the amazement of those moments. Once out of the park, the animal sitings continued and I still can't get over driving down the highway and seeing a giraffe or other wildlife. Am I in Lion Country Safari or is this really happening?! Unfortunately our luck under the water was less successful and our attempts at diving (Sodwana Bay) were overshadowed by bad conditions and viz. One dive and we called it quits (but not before seeing some great eels, a huge rubberlips fish, having "Nemo" literally bite my lip and having a jelly wrap round my neck leaving me with a beautiful sting that Rach insisted I wipe vinegar and meat tenderizer on!) . We also were crazy enough to get into a cage with great whites---BUT, they never came. We can't say we didn't try :). We turned "luxury" the next few days as we traveled down the coast (the Garden Route, etc) and loved the shit outta some B&B places. How will we ever stay in a hostel or guesthouse again? We're doomed! All the places were amazing---the food, the staff, the views. As we entered the southern coast, the whales came out to play. And when I say Whales, I really mean WHALES. Our first siting was as we were driving 80km down the road. A quick glimpse to the sea (yes, the road is that close---) and BAM---"DID YOU SEE THAT?! WHALE!"....Zed screeched to the side of the road and we watched 3 Southern Right Whales for over an hour---only a few yards from the shore. We had so many moments like this that, if whale spotting could actually get old/boring, it might have. As we entered Cape Town, the iffy weather decided to take a hike, parting in time for a warm, beautiful Table Mountain welcome. We found a GREAT backpackers place right on the main strip of Long Street and soaked up the amazing weather for our last 3 days. 1 day spent atop Table Mountain and in Stellenbosch, tasting wine and hitting up 4 or 5 of the HUNDREDS of wineries that make Stellenbosch what it is. We did the famous Chapman's Peak Drive along the coast and timed it perfectly for the sun setting and, of course, the whales. The drive was beautiful, even if we were constantly glancing up at the walls of reinforcements intended to stop the rocks from crashing down on us and Zed! Our last full day in the Cape was spent with our tour guide in the District 6 museum, the townships, and Robben Island---as we tried to wrap our minds and hearts around the past, present and future of this beautiful country. The townships, also referred to as the slums or ghetto, were full of smiling faces, but lacking in water, electricity, sanitation and other conveniences/civilities that disappeared during the "relocations" that took place in the 1960's. Our tour guide pointed out a young man surrounded with live wires---as he tried to illegally wire electricity from one place to another so that a family might have a single light, and he may make a few bucks (yes, even Rand, the South African currency is referred to as 'bucks'!). We visited a school, where the ratio of students to teachers was shocking...as was the ratio of space to children. But they were making it work, and it filled our hearts. We heard many encouraging stories, one about a woman named Vicky and her amazing B&B right in the heart of one of these townships. She started from nothing and now has a beautiful B&B with 3 rooms that she opens to tourists---allowing them to stay in the heart of things and get a true look and appreciation of the people inside the townships. From the letters filling the walls in Vicky's B&B, it was clear what an impact this place had on it's visitors. It was an experience that they all took back home with them, and, for many, was just the encouragement they needed to step up and reach out to those less fortunate. I like win-win's. Had Rachel and I known of it sooner, we definitely would have stayed. We ferried out to Robben Island and had an ex-political prisoner guide us around the island and the prison where Nelson Mandela and so many others spent decades. Today, a few ex-prisoners have made the island their home and it amazes me that they are able to face the past with such acceptance. Our last dinner was at a South African restaurant where we sampled local beer, kudo, springbok, and ostrich (3 animals from our Kruger siting list---hehe!) and enjoyed live entertainment. A great send off. By the next morning, I'd be landing in the tiny airport of Windhoek, Namibia and Rachel in Casablanca, Morocco. My experiences in Namibia in a blog to follow shortly!

Dear America, Love Thailand

Lesson: Touch, Taste, Smell

purpose of blindfold: Teacher's entertainment :)

As I stand on my porch and watch the dark sky threaten to swallow me, I'm reminded again how much I love this place. There is something beautiful about the blackness, the calmness just before Bangkok becomes victim of another monsoon. I can't quite explain the peacefulness, but it's a feeling that makes me smile from the inside out. Life continues---as normal---making it difficult to blog--until, of course, I stop to smell the pollution. When I do slow down, look around, and re-open my eyes, I'm reminded of the craziness that is Bangkok and I fall in love all over again. I think about how shocked and terrified I was when I first arrived and I can't help but smile. This is my life, this is my home, and nothing about it seems crazy anymore.

During one of these eyes-wide-open moments, I outwardly smiled while walking through the market. This is my kitchen, my favourite restaurant, my late night craving, my sweet tooth filling, my caffeine jump start, my healthy eating kick---all rolled in to one. I have literally cooked a total of 4 times in the last year. Why cook when you have this market, a market, covering every inch of every sidewalk in every part of Bangkok? I watch as one of the vendors delicately tastes her creation from a giant spoon before dipping it back in for a stir, and I laugh. I can hear mom's voice in my ear teaching me proper manners---telling me to wash the spoon first and I love the fact that these vendors never got that lesson. I love that, at some point in my life, I probably would have cringed, but now, I happily walk over and order what she has. I order fruit and am unphased when the vendor grips it completely in his (surely) not-so-clean hand before cutting it into my bag. I occasionally remove bugs or hair from my meals as if I'm removing the shell of a shrimp. Take it out, put it on the side, and continue eating as if there is nothing unpleasant about it. I laugh when I think that the stuff that goes on here would easily be on TV in America on one of those hidden camera shows.

School has been amazing and my kids succeed at simultaneously exhausting and fueling me. They are beautiful, smart, loving, full of energy, innocence and cheeky-ness---If I give them, teach them, make them feel a fraction of what they give me, teach me, make me feel, then I'm doing something right. Even when I want to pick them up and throw them (as I definitely do sometimes), I can't help but kiss them. Which, I have discovered, is as much a "punishment" to a 5 year old trying to be cool in front of his friends then anything else...so, threatening them with a little "joob joob" is enough to make everyone happy!

As for my schooling....There is something about being a 26 year old, illiterate, college graduate that is incredibly....humbling, exciting, amazing, frustrating. I have been taking Thai classes for the last 2 months and, when I see the fruit of my labours, I can't help but act like the 4 year old I feel like. Learning to read a completely foreign alphabet, often with the help (much to their amusement) of my Kindergarten students puts me on an entirely new level. I don't remember learning to read as a child, but I will remember learning to read as an adult forever.

The term is over in 3 short weeks and yet another dream vacation is calling. Rachel and I will be driving, camping, diving, singing, and dancing (such is the plan so far) our way through South Africa for 2 weeks before I head to Namibia and she heads to Morocco for the remainder of our vacation. Flying out Oct. 1st, back on Oct. 24th, back to work (team building and lesson planning) on Oct. 26th, and back to school on Nov. 3rd. Am BEYOND excited about some visitors in December and can't wait to share my life here :)

Proud...to be an American?!?!

Better late than never---some reflections!

Nearly 3o hours after leaving America, the glistening wats below welcome me and my incoming plane "home". The 3 weeks spent in the US were great. It was a whirlwind, as can only be expected, but great nonetheless. I slipped more comfortably into my previous life then I anticipated, having only to remind myself to say "thank-you" (and not "Kaupkunka") and drive on the right side of the road. I have grown to love Thailand and the people here, but being away from my own Country has only strengthened the bond I feel to it. Being on foreign soil has definitely made me "proud to be an American." The omission of "more" was not a mistake---there was indeed a time that I was NOT proud to be an American. One of the many things I have noticed in my travels is that being American comes with it's price. It's a tiny one, considering the price that so many others have paid, are paying, and will pay to make America what it is, but it does have a "break the stereotype" price. I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said that every non-American I've met has said something alone the lines of "you don't quite fit my idea of an American". I've come to understand that as a compliment---being assured that the "insult" part of that wasn't directed towards me. Though, in a more defensive mindset, I would say it kind of reminds me of someone saying "I hate gay people---but you're not like them". Um. Okay.

One of the key turning points, hands down, was the election. I went to watch the inauguration with hundreds of other Americans and the pride that filled the 3 story, packed building was nothing short of amazing. It was in those moments of complete togetherness with complete strangers that made me realize how special America really is. For everyone there, it wasn't necessarily about Obama---it was just about change, about Hope and new beginnings. Most people cried, hugged, clapped, smiled, high-fived. I took part in all of it---sharing a moment with strangers who, at that time, we're as good as family, was something that really changed my thinking. It opened my eyes to a bond that goes beyond the surface. Beyond my intolerance of the ignorant, loud, obnoxious American stereotype. Beyond the surfacy things that have kept me from "claiming" America.

When I traveled home, with a new found hope, appreciation, and excitement, it was as if I was stepping on American soil for the first time. I was taking it all in as an outsider---a view, I would argue, that gives an amazingly fresh, appreciative perception. The first thing I remember thinking was "wow, people here are super friendly"---and then, in my layover in the Atlanta airport, I got a treat. Troops coming home. I didn't fully know what was going on at first, but, because I have gotten so used to "going with the flow" living in a foreign country (if you're walking, and all of a sudden everyone stops, you should stop too---even if it takes you a long time to figure out that the King's song is playing---), I just...well, 'went with the flow'. Before I knew it, I was on my feet, applauding with the hundreds of other people around me. When I saw the troops, I got chills. I always admired the pride---the honour---the love---in Thailand. The respect they have for their King and their Country is amazing and at times, it leaves me awestruck. But the experience I had in the airport that day will always be a reminder that 'we have that too'....it's just that I've been too spoiled by it to recognize it as "special".

I continue to be in love with my life here. The culture. The people. My kids. The language. I enjoy the bonds that I've formed, am forming, and love the challenge that a culture/language barrier gives me. I face it everyday. Some moments, it's incredibly uplifting, and others, it's incredibly frustrating, and sometimes even painful. It's truly amazing how, at the root of it, people are people. There is so much that can be learned, understood, even when words aren't available. Yet, during those moments of frustration and pain, it's difficult accepting that bonds may only go so deep with these kinds of barriers. It's difficult, at times, knowing that I may never fully be able to know my kids without the help of a translator. And even then, there are many things that culture and/or language won't have a translation for. But, I'm still welcoming every aspect with arms, eyes, heart wide open. Through all this, I think I've discovered that I have a real future in education and am excited to continue running with, and growing with, that possibility. I do occasionally watch my 'homeroom teachers' with a bit of envy---and think eventually I'd like to be a 'homeroom' teacher who can actually FULLY communicate with her class! But for now, the fulfillment I've gotten from watching my kids grow (I get to keep 'my kids' through 3 grades ....that's a perk that homeroom teachers don't get!), teaching them a language that I know will help them as they get older, AND teaching them to READ ( :) :) :)), is unexplainable!

(We've) Paved Paradise

If the Islands of Southern Thailand had a theme song, it would be "Big Yellow Taxi" by the Counting Crows (go on, look up the lyrics if you must!). We've just returned from a 2 week hiatus (from, you know, our other hiatus!) around Southern Thailand, and, while it was an amazing trip, it wasn't void of conflicting feelings. The islands and beaches of Thailand are, undoubtedely, what lures tourists. It's the scenary that books and movies are made of (namely, The Beach) and people are lining up to get a taste. So, Rachel and I set off on our 14 hour hour Phuket-bound bus, hoping for the best while trying to keep expectations at bay. We arrived in Phuket town with 2 days to spare (before leaving on our liveaboard) and immediately rented a motorbike so we could explore the island at lesiure. We went to the most popular beaches first, knowing that, if we've learned anything from travel books, it's that their most popular is our least favourite! What we found was great potential. Beautifully white beaches with clear waters and limestone surroundings---packed with farang, bars, resorts, construction, and an overall lack of "thai-ness". For 2 people who have grown to love a culture, it was painful to see, and, after seeing another topless farang (going topless is like spitting in the face of Thai culture), we hurried on our way. Every supposedely "secluded" beach/bay we came to had been developed and stripped of it's Thai roots, therefore, to us, had been stripped of it's beauty. But saying all this is met with a bit of self-criticism. If I love a country, love a culture, love a people, why wouldn't I want it to thrive?! Tourism can allow that to happen--so, in theory, I should be excited for all this development---. I guess I just want it to be preserved only for those who wish to experience Thailand in, well, all it's Thainess. (not to mention that it's the vicious cycle really---everyone flocks to a particular place beacause of it's untouced beauty---the flocking means money, development, tourism---which, unvariably, destroys the "untouched beauty" part and lasts only long enough until a new untouched place is discovered. And really, how many more of those places remain?)

A few days later, we boarded the Le Marhe boat and set out for 4 days of diving and island exploring. Luckily, our choice to go at the end of season paid off. Although the rains and rough seas flirted with us briefly (and even caused other ships to cancel their trips), they held off long enough for us to enjoy great weather, good diving, and less crowded sites. Although our dives were somewhat tainted by a piss poor (okay, that's not fair...new and unexperienced) dive guide, the trip still gave us the opportunity to find those beaches we had dreamed of. Because the Similian and Surin Islands are actually protected, the lack of development has preserved their beauty---allowing us access to crystal clear water, white beaches, and great lookouts---and all of this without the topless woman, bars, and resorts. Diving 4 times a day, taking a "break" to snorkel, swim, or laze on a deserted beach was all in all, amazing. Some say it's only a matter of time before the "protection" on these areas is lifted to allow for development and money making opportunities, but I will hold on to the hope that the protection will stand.

For a break from the beaches, we spent a few days in a small rain-foresty town (Koh Sok) which we loved. The scenary was beautiful (limestone cliffs for as far as you could see) and it was homey. We stayed in a family-run (actually, I'm pretty conviced the town itself was family-run!) guesthouse where mom took care of money, daughters took care of cooking, sons took care of driving and giving tours, and, well, adorable grandkids took care of hugging, entertaining, and melting the heart of visitors (see picture). :). We did a hike through the forest, where Rachel and I had our first experience with leeches. And, when I say 'experience', (mom), I really mean that I had a leech ON me...which left me with an "I'm so excited in a really grossed out kinda way" feeling.

I'm back to work tomorrow and I'm actually really excited about it! I've missed my kids so much and can't wait to see them again! It's hard to believe that nearly 3 months has gone by since I've taught them! So, it's back to the work world for about 4 months---then, if all goes according to plan, we're off to South Africa and Namibia in October to jump into 1 Sarah Buffie's world for a little bit and see what other cultures have in store for us.

****Many of the places we traveled to on this trip were affected, if not destroyed by the 2004 Tsunami. In this way, it was refreshing to see that things had been rebuilt and restored--allowing some degree of normalcy to return. Although my heart went out to the people back in 2004 when the pictures and stories were ripe, it wasn't until I traveled here that I was fully able to connect with the diaster and what the people must have felt. Back then, the places affected by the tsunami were nothing more then foreign names to me (a fact that made connection, and, in many ways, belief, nearly impossible)---whereas now, they are real places that I can connect with, see, touch, feel---. It's simple things like this that continue to drive my passion for seeing the world.

Genocide, Poverty, Hope, Beauty

Cambodia 27/12/08-3/1/09
Poipet-Siem Reap-Phnom Phen-Battambang

Cambodia has rattled me to my core--in a way that leaves me eager to return. I have heard stories, read books, been warned of the poverty. But nothing would fully register until my own senses were set loose. As we travel down the 2.5 hour red, dirt road, I see things not only in the "here and now", but I also see them, with the help of a memoir by Loung Ung (First They Killed My Father), as they were 30 years ago. From 1975-1979, the Khmer Rouge took control of Cambodia in a war that would see nearly 2 million (out of a population of only about 7 million) men, women and children killed in an act of Genocide so horrific, I don't have the words, or the understanding, to do a description justice. As I wander around S-21 Tuol Sleng in Phnom Phen, I look, in horror, at the evidence of a school-turned-torture-prison. Instead of desks, there are metal bed frames used to bind, torture, and kill people the Khmer Rouge saw as a threat. The children here are only learning how to survive another minute, another hour, another day. Learning what it feels like to be tortured, to stave, to be ripped away from their families. I step into one of the make-shift cells and imagine what it must have felt like 30 years before. The recency of it all sends chills down my back. At a time when my own big brother was being conceived, someone else's big brother was being tortured, starved, killed. I blink away a tear and continue wandering. I over hear tour guides giving their story. All are young and all have a story that has been brutally set by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. Inside these walls, the memories are impossible to escape, but outside is a Country that continues to fight, to hope, to yearn for a better tomorrow. It would be understandable if they remained broken, but their spirit is so uplifting, it not only carries them, it carries heavy-hearted travelers, as if they are telling the world that they have survived, they will survive.

As I stroll around the ruins of the Angkor temples (built between the 8th and 13th centuries), I'm overcome with emotion. The energy it brings me will be hard to beat and the peacefulness fuels my ever increasing Buddhist curiosity. The pride the Country has for these old sites pours out of every root-entangled inch, out of every ancient carving, out of every bullet-littered lion guardian. And, although the packs of tourists frustrates me, it's a reminder that the persistent hopefulness of a wounded nation is paying off. The Angkorian temples is their pride and joy (for good reason), and the world has finally caught on. I'm left in the most awe at the sites that have been overtaken by nature. Massive tree roots are so intertwined with the ruins that my mind cannot piece together the when or how. They wrap their finger-like branches deeply, tightly, into every crevice, as if clinging to hope while trying to simultaneously suffocate a dark past.

The un-touristed Cambodia passes me by, and I can't help but think of family camping trips. Half-clothed children, permeantly stained a redish-brown from the unescapable dusty, dirt roads, go about their daily activites. Some run back and forth to the water pump, which, thanks to a "clean water act" and generous international donations, is now safer for them to drink. Some bent over a small fire, eating or cooking. Some hanging clothes on the line and others gathering wood. I remember how I felt on my family camping trips--how excited I was when I successfully hung a make-shift clothes line, or gathered the perfect fire wood--how much I loved staying dirty and running around in my little-girl underwear. The memories bring a smile to my face, but when I bring myself back to reality, I remember that this is no camping trip--no weekend of roughing it for these families. This is life. I can't help but wonder what darkness lies in their hearts. Did they too lose loved ones? Did they watch a brother, mother, sister be tourtured? Did someone in their family sacrafice so they could live? When nearly 1 in 4 people were killed in a war that ended less than 30 years ago, there is a high possibility that they would answer 'yes' to at least one of those questions---and that reality continues to haunt my thoughts and break my heart.

In the city of Siem Reap, the newly-built resturants and hotels seem too out of place to enjoy. It's impossible to get through a meal without at least one street kid coming to your table asking for food or water---or a book seller trying desperately to make a buck or two. I find it easier to say no, to continue walking past the beggers in the streets (here or anywhere--) when I know that giving them money is no solution. It becomes so exhausting saying no--to the booksellers with missing limbs (oh yeah, Cambodia is one of the most mined countries in the world), to the kids selling bracelets (12 for $1...MISSS...cheap price for you), paintings, drinks, woven grasshoppers, postcards--that I feel myself getting frustrated. But before I allow that emotion to take over, I ask myself--if saying no exhausts me, what must hearing no do to these kids? This thought kills me, and reminds me to, at the least, keep a smile on my face while saying no for the nteenth time. But when a 4 year old approaches, holding an empty bottle, wearing an infant on her hip, and asking for milk, my heart is all out of 'no's'. It's soothing watching the 2 dirtied faces eat and drink, but I can't help but wonder if my weakness in this situation only did more to hinder the solution--what ever that may be. When I get home that night, the images of the street children are fresh in my mind. When I look down at my white shirt, I notice a face-shaped stain just above my belly-button. It doesn't take long to register that this dirt-print is from the small boy who ran up to me on the street and hugged me---thus leaving an imprint on me---and my shirt!

It seemed only fitting that we would end our trip at a local orphange in Battambang. Before I came to SE Asia, I told people that ultimately, I wanted to end up in an Orphange in Cambodia. I had no idea why. The words just seemed to flow out of my mouth without much thought. But as I fought back the stench of urine in the nursery ward and held an innocent, infant body to my chest, I knew I belonged. The calmness of these babies is something I still can't get over. It saddens me to think that they are so accustomed to being alone, that, even in their few months of life, they have already learned to cope...alone. They lay, unentertained, without so much as a whimper. But, when I took 1 after another into my arms, nature took over. If it wasn't immediately obvious that they still do, as nature intends, crave human connection, it became obvious when their eyes moved from a locked fixation on my (foreign) eyes to a deep sleep within minutes of being held. As if they simple needed that reassurance, that touch, to know that everything was going to be okay. I long to do more---and can only hope that I continue to lose sleep at night. In my heart, I know I'll return. Hopefully as a more long-term volunteer at that orphanage. But until then, I'm happy to be home. Happy to start work tomorrow. Happy for the experience, as hard as it may have been. Happy that the people so openly welcomed me into their Kingdom, into their painful past, and invited me to hope with them for a much brighter future.

Indonesia at a glance

4:30am. The Call To Prayer gentle shakes me from my slumber. Despite being prematurely wakened, I find a rewarding peacefulness in the sound. The calming effect rushes over me, rocking me back to sleep--and offers a sharp contradiction to my ignorant-driven fears of a religion that makes up nearly 90% of this country.

Walking out of the airport in Jakarta, Indonesia, I was overcome by an uncomfortable feeling. To an extent, it’s a natural feeling when you step foot on foreign soil, one that I’ve grown quite accustomed to. But this---this was different. My governmental warnings were fresh in my mind and I started to question myself. The US Department of State’s website urged me to “carefully weigh my decision (to travel here)”. Had I heeded their advice? I glanced around at several staring eyes, a “harsh-looking” crowd, and an obviously Muslim majority. I pulled my bags closer, trying to look more relaxed at the same time. When I proceeded onto the public bus, it was gut wrenching. Reflecting back, it wasn’t gut-wrenching because I was on a public bus. And not because I was a minority. But because I was a minority on a public bus that was populated entirely by Muslims. Afterall, my government, my country, has painted this picture numerous times before for me. It’s a picture of terrorism (isn‘t it?)---and here I am, voluntarily in the middle of it. As my fears slowly subsided on that first day, I immediately felt my mind, body, and eyes opening up---the previously painted picture of this country, of this religion, of this culture just couldn’t stand up to the actual picture that would unfold before me over the next several days…

Through the cracked window of my “eksekutif” seat on the Yogyakarta bound train, I watch the everyday Indonesia pass by. I get a glimpse of two burials, and, while I can’t see their faces, the body language of those surrounding the grave speak volumes. Their pain, their suffering, their loss is the same as any others. Poverty-stricken neighborhoods are the norm, but the faces of the children bathing, laughing, and playing in the polluted river hardly resemble those I’ve seen on TV. Their outward happiness is humbling. If only happiness could so easily be obtained in areas where bathing in a filthy river was unspeakable. Inside the train, 2 big, dark eyes stare at Rach and I the way I would have stared at a visibly disabled person before I knew it was impolite. Pure curiosity. Pure innocence. It’s far less intimidating when the eyes that are locked on you belong to those of a child--and I allow myself to stare back. Through her eyes, I could see the reflection of my own curiosity. Maybe all these stares that we’ve been subject to since our arrival aren’t driven by fear or hate, but rather by pure curiosity, pure innocence. That possibility only did more to further break down my fears---fears that initially were intensified by these stares!

On the streets of Yogya, an intimidating-looking teenager senses that Rach and I are a bit turned around (perhaps the map in our hands and our erratic footsteps tip him off) and comes to help. He gestures for us to follow him in a kind of way that only an intimidating, non-English speaking teenager could. Hesitantly, I follow him, consciously adjusting my body language--partly to make Rachel believe that everything was fine and I wasn’t the least bit concerned about this boys intentions--and partly to make myself believe it. We settle for a few smiles when our attempts at conversation fail and I continue to follow him, silently. He helps us cross the highly trafficked road by stepping into it, his body between us and the cars/motorbikes/horse carriages, his hand guiding my arm. Even with this selfless gesture, my mind is busy piecing together his possible intentions. Does he want money? Does he want to take us to a certain place? Is he getting us more lost? Does he want to hurt us? Before my mind could finish the last negative thought, I recognize Molboloro (street)…exactly what we were looking for. Familiarity. I stutter out terima kasih---relieved, yet ashamed. Our young guide proceeded to place a bracelet in my hand, gesturing for me to wear it, before disappearing into the crowd. I stood there a bit confused. Looking first at the bracelet, then scanning the crowd for the kid, then eyes back to the bracelet. Because I didn’t want to say exactly what I was thinking at that moment, I turned to Rach and asked “do you think it’s safe for me to wear it?” I examined the bracelet carefully, still confused, mind running wild. What was truly going though my head at that moment is something I hate to admit--- man--this thing is gonna start ticking isn’t it? This thug kid picked us Westerners out of the crowd to prove another religious point, didn’t he? Should I throw it? Should I drop it? What if that expedites things? Man--where did he go? Why did he just disappear? They aren’t thoughts I’m proud of, but they were intense thoughts. Real thoughts. Real fears. All which exist because many people like to use religion to tear nations apart---these people use intimidation to reach that goal. And apparently, it works. I closed my eyes, took a breath, and slipped the bracelet around my wrist. I continued to wear it, and examine it, for the rest of the day.

Just before sunset, Rachel and I wonder around the holy remains of Borobudur along with thousands of local Indonesians, who, because of the Ramadan holiday, have flocked to this particular place. Not long into our meander, a man hesitantly approaches, camera in hand. In his best English, he asks if we’ll take a picture with his children. We’re amused and when we smile in agreeance, his whole family lights up, smiling the way I did when Ed Jovanoski agreed to take a picture with me when I was a kid. They thank us profusely, then shake our hands with --what can only be explained as-- admiration. We laugh at the situation, understanding that Westerners look different--and some people have never seen “a real one”. Just when we thought it was a rare occurrence, someone gave us a speed ticket to our 15 minutes of fame. 1 family after another approached, parents thrusting their children at us, teenagers approaching hesitantly, women, men, children, teenagers. We glance up (Borobudur is a series of terraces, you can glance up at the next level, and the next…etc), to dozens of cameras and phones locked on us. Some people try to be discrete, but most aren‘t. We lost count of how many pictures we agreed to take that day, but we left with an overwhelming understanding that our original fears of “these people”--and their often chilling stares, couldn’t have been more wrong.

As if someone knew there was still one thing I couldn’t wrap my mind around, I got the last piece to my puzzle. On our hike up an active volcano, we met more people who wanted to take pictures with us and practice their English. Before we were leaving, the one kid who didn’t speak great English, asked for something--- “do you have something for me?”. Unsure of what he meant by something, I put my hands up in a “what do you mean” gesture. He pointed to my thumb ring. Although I was unable to part with that, the light bulb went off in my head. THAT’s why that thug kid gave me his bracelet!! This is a part of their culture! This is what’s normal to them!! When Rachel pointed to the hair tie she had wrapped around her wrist, the kid lit up---he took it, slipped it around his wrist, smiled in a way I can’t explain (proving that it didn‘t have to be something of value), and walked away, thanking us over and over. This continued to happen several times as we traveled through Java and Lombok. So many people we met wanted a memory--something they could have to remind them of the meeting. When Rach ran out of hair ties, we turned to pens---and every time we got the most rewarding smile---as if we had just given these kids a winning lotto ticket.

I know my 18 day trip through Indonesia hardly warrants me an expert on anything. But it was one of the most eye-opening, rewarding trips simple because my standing beliefs were effectively shattered. As for this bracelet---it has yet to start ticking. And until it does, it will be a constant reminder to take a stand against ignorant-driven fears.

"The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are." ~ Samuel Johnson

(pictures to follow on shutterfly shortly...as well as bullets to what we did/saw---and how fabulously fantastic it was to meet Ash and Cait in Bali!! )

Say what you mean & mean what you say

My morning cup of coffee:

My 9th grade English teacher once told our class to "write what you mean and mean what you write". It was a good lesson in writing--one that I carried with me to my days at Rice--but the adapted form is the one that really stuck. For the last few years, since that class, I have been trying to "say what I mean and mean what I say". It's powerful in its simplicity. How many times do we utter out hurtful words when we don't really mean them--or fail to utter loving ones? As much as this simple phrase has shaped much of me (thanks Mr. Horal), I find it ironic that I've landed in a place where "saying what I mean and meaning what I say' is a near impossibility. Welcome to the tonal Thai language. A language that doesn't give a crap if I'm tone deaf. Lets, for instance, take the word kow. A word that, depending on your tone, can mean rice, mountain, or white. The blank stare at the food stall when I ask for 'mountain' reminds me that I need a new phrase because clearly, I'm not saying what I mean. And, until I develop more of an ear for these tones, I've decided to stay away from the confusion of such words as glai---which, at mid-tone, means far but at a falling-tone means near. I'll just take a taxi, thanks.

Friday was my last day of teaching this term and I spent 15 minutes of my lunch break lost (and loving it) in translation. I visited with 'my homeroom' teachers (Mee, Ning and Kan)--none of whom speak English. For 15 minutes, we played pictionary (by the makers of necessity, not Milton Bradley) and nearly peed ourselves laughing. They tried so hard to speak English and I tried so hard to speak Thai (the sound of which, with all due respects, mirrors the sounds you may hear in a special-needs class) and every now and then, we'd recognize a word. Completely and utterly out of context, but a word nonetheless. 15 minutes, 3 words, an aching stomach and watery eyes later, I realized the full power of a smile--the full power of laughter. It's something that is multilingual--knowing no borders--and luckily, no tones. So, while our Thai fluency may be forever a work-in-progress, one thing for sure--Rach and I know how to laugh and smile---and by Buddha are we!!

BALI BOUND and SUCH:
Because work wants to give me a month off AND pay me a 1/3 of my salary, we're Bali-bound! We're flying to Indonesia on Wednesday, Oct. 1st and will spend 2.5 weeks exploring another country--another culture--. 2 of my BFFFFL's from Rice, Ashley (better known by readers of my blog as "hussy from houston" :) ) and Cait, will be meeting us in Bali on the 14th and I CANNOT wait! I know it's going to be an amazing trip and I can't wait to see my girls again. And yes, Ashley mommy dear, I have researched Indonesia and you can be assured that we will be smart travelers. So the mommy's out there can sleep peacefully, I've registered with the US embassy and have made them aware of my plans to travel there---so no worries, the US government has got my back!! haha.

Because several people have asked: Rachel and I are both working at a place called Fun Language. The majority of my classes are 4-6years old but I have 1 older class of 11 year olds. Fun Language pretty much acts as a middle man and sends us to different schools. I have 4 different schools...and several hundred students in total. Other than a few bad days here and there, I LOVE my kids--love my schedule--love it. Rach will start training on Oct. 2oth and then will be assigned to schools. It's a perfect set up because, while we'll be working together, it's very unlikely we'll be working at the same schools. So our jobs will be our own space, but we'll have all the same holidays/term breaks, etc. Everything else is going well. We have survived our first month of living in a 2x2 box (ok, so it's not THAT small...) together and show no signs of converting to the "I'll just shove you in the closet and lock it if I get sick of you" contingency plan!! We have been meeting a lot of people--Thai and foreigners alike and are just soaking up the culture of this place. In true Elizabeth Gilbert (Author of Eat, Pray, Love) form, I've made a "you teach me Thai, I'll teach you English" arrangement with the women that work at our apartment building and Rach made a similar arrangement with a woman that lives in the apartment building next door--hopefully commencing upon our return from Indonesia.

Skype: The internet in our apartment slows significantly when there are a lot of people online. Because of that, I'm only able to get a Skype connection early in the morning or late, late at night. Which, is ok with the time difference. But that's why I haven't been on too much lately. Hopefully it will get better. Thanks to everyone who has downloaded it...it means so much that you can still only be a phone call away.


For anyone who remembers/knows my forever friend Randi, send good thoughts her way! She's walking down the isle on Sept. 27th!! Congrats Rand--I'm there in spirit. Love you.

Top 10: You know you've adjusted well when

(in no particular order...)
10:
Instead of gawking at the adorable baby elephants walking down the street, you get disgusted at the people using them to make a buck.

9:
You're not from 'the States', not from the 'USA', not even from America....you're from A-mer-ee-cahh!

8:
The occassional splurge on Western food makes you ill

7:
A meal costing over 150 Baht (5 dollars) is reserved for special occasions

6:
You may be an English teacher, but proper English grammar is out and local pidgin is in---with a special focus on tones

5:
You've started applying baby power to your face in hopes that it will make your skin look half as good as the theirs

4:
The workers in the local market not only know you, they know what you want to eat and how you like it cooked/made

3:
You've graduated from 'mai ped' (not spicy) to 'nit-noy' (a little) and are happy your taste buds are adjusting

2:
The Thai kids you teach are amazed by your 2 Thai phrases and automatically think you are fluent...not only in Thai, but also in Chinese...

1:
You've started giving the 'asian peace sign' in pictures...

and one for good measure:
The locals call you up and tell you (in above mentioned pidgin) to come play futsol...and luckily, you've mastered 3 of the most important words in soccer: chi, chi (YES, YES....soccer translation: GIVE ME THE FREAKIN BALL), mai chi (NO...soccer translation: DON'T YOU DARE PLAY ME THAT HOSPITAL BALL), Yiing (SHOOT....soccer translation: FREAKIN SHOOT)

From a writer's perspective...

From the comfort of my apartment, I could be anywhere in the world. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that I'm here...until I remember.

This morning, I wake before the sun and go through my (temporary) morning routine before starting the hour commute to work. (The appreciation I have for my CELTA trainer-turned-roomy, Nicky, and her free apartment, far outweighs any inconvenience of a long commute). The temples in the distance are silhouoetted against the rising sun and the sight urges me to reach for my camera. I quickly realize that there is nothing to reach for--my camera is, has been, "at home" for a long time, reminding me that I've become more than a tourist. I stare at the sight in awe, knowing that the beauty that meets my eyes is more than even the best lens could capture. I take a short walk through the park to the river, finding joy in this commute, even on days when I'm exhausted. I follow the "clunk, clunk" of heels in front of me, allowing early morning runners to pass along side. I glimpse up, again, at the aerobics class taking place in the open air of the park and find my inners smiling. My feet have memorized the placement of early-morning food stalls but the sight still grabs my attention. I spend an extra second looking at the sweets stall every morning. Not because I want sweets at 6am, but because they are the most beautifully decorated candies I've ever seen and I hardly believe they are edible. I, along with 100 other work-goers load onto a small boat and cross the river to the subway. I join the orderly line that has formed, voluntarily, at the subway. I no longer watch in amazement as people on the train pile out, completely, before the line begins to file in. A uniformed teenager rises from his seat without a moments hesitation so a small child, a monk or an older person can sit. This isn't a rare occurrence. Back on the street, closer to work, I pass more food stalls. The familiar scent of food overcomes me and eliminates the other smells that go along with big cities. The scent of meat and other lunch/dinner foods in the morning once turned my stomach. I now welcome it and no longer take a second look when I see someone finishing off a bowl of meat, noodles and liver at 7am. I glance up to see a woman rising from her kneeling position, slipping on her shoes, a monk reciting a blessing over her. Moments before, she had offered up alms food to the monk, first giving thanks, and then wishing her good karma onto someone else, or onto the world. Seconds later, I pass another "lady boy" and find myself staring. No at her, but at the unaffected people around her. I can't help but notice that the mothers don't pull their children closer, the elderly don't give unapproving looks, no one points, no one stares. Just another part of an amazingly accepting culture. I walk over to the first in a line of orange-jacketed men, jump on the back of his motorbike and confidently tell him my destination. The joy I get from doing this successfully would suggest it entails more then knowing "Soi 13" in Thai. It doesn't. As we weave between cars, I notice that my knuckles are no longer white, my knees no longer grasping my driver. This once incredible frightening way of getting a few blocks in a highly congested city has become a way of life. When I get to school, I'm instantly greeted with wai after wai. I find myself wai'ing back as naturally as if it were a handshake. The power of a meaningful wai is unexplainable and it took me walking into a school to feel the true respect behind it. Soon I'm greeted by the enthusiastic, innocent Thai faces that make up one of my many classes. The children accept me as if they've known me for years, some clinging on to me, some gazing at me from a distance--but all mimicking me (and my accent) exactly. We sing a song and I'm transported back to my own Kindergarten class, amazed at how unchanged the songs are. I start the day with a choral "Hello teacher J" and end the day with a choral "Goodbye teacher J" and am reminded that, while it may not be my forever, it's exactly what I want right now. I meet Nicky, my CELTA trainer/friend/wife/roomy/mother/savior at the Irish Pub at Sala Daeng. We meet here, at Molly Malones, reluctantly. It's overpriced, has mediocre food, and is packed with farang. But the large screen of Live Olympic action can't be beat, so again, we rendezvous here for a few hours before going home. We talk about my new apartment and how we were a great team at finding the place. I think back to the several days/weeks I spent searching....
I call a potential "winner" hoping to get directions. I'm relieved that the Thai jargon is promptly followed by "press 2 for English". I find myself wondering if Thai's feel the same frustration that Americans (or Floridians!) feel when they hear "Press 1 for English". In this moment, and others like it, this simple convenience is a lifeline for me. Time after time in my search for an apartment, my English would be rebounded with Thai. I speak more slowly, directly, hoping that this time she'll understand me. She speaks more slowly, directly, in Thai, hoping that this time I'll understand her. Exchanging first glances of "what don't you understand about this", then glances of amusement and then a mutual understanding that we don't understand...and it's ok. We'll make do. And we do. Make do. When I finally find the place I want, I'm put in touch with the manager---someone who always seems to speak at least a hint of English--to work out any last details. These last details consisted of me bargaining a bit before giving the ok. I return the next day to sign, walking down my street slowly, happily looking around at my new surroundings. They were kind enough to translate the contract to English, a luxury I wasn't expecting. The 2 woman, Kik and Pha, that are there waiting for me speak a little English and the 3 of us spend time talking after the money and contract business is finished. They quickly ask for my nickname, not because they have difficulty pronouncing or remembering my full name, but because every Thai person has a given nickname (a fact that I am thankful for). They simply don't know a life without them. So, instead of telling them that I don't have a given nickname, I offer up "J", knowing that this, once again, has become my "official" nickname. They ask if a "mister" is moving in with me and I hesitate. Although that hesitation has subsided significantly over the years, it's something that a society has conditioned me to do, and the conditioning has crossed borders. I tread carefully forward. Stuttering. Finally, they come to their own conclusion that my "girlfriend" is moving in with me. And immediately, they want to know her nickname, how old she is, where she is now. I laugh at my hesitation, hoping that having yet another moment like this will continue to breakdown my own societal conditioning.

It's moments like this that remind me where I am. What a beautiful country this is. The intimidation of big cities is something that once forced me to hurry through. Hiding behind the truth that cities are...cities (no matter where they are) I would never have to face the fast-paced, different way of life. And while I don't see myself ever truly being a "city-girl", I've enjoyed what taking a deeper look has given me.

New Pictures/Cell Phone

I got a cell phone:

Phone number is 084 553 7894
I think you put a +66 in front of that but can't be sure. I'll be rejoining the Skype/internet world shortly...in another 1-2 weeks so I'll be accessible through that. But here's the cell number for safe keeping :)


I posted some new pictures on my shutterfly account

www.janellecrowley.shutterfly.com

I cut them down to stay below 200 so you aren't so overwhelmed with pics. They go along with everything written in the previous blog and then some.

Ever been caving...BAREFOOT?!

Greetings from Pai (pronounced 'bye'), a small, hippy-town west of Chaing Mai! :)

The abridged version for Jose---who, by the way, I have connected with via Skype and webcam. It's my new favorite toy and I love seeing his sexy face and bald head on my computer from across the globe. Everyone should get Skype.

Jose, shall I do bullets? Yeah? Here goes.
(Since the last time...)

• Headed to Vang Vieng, Laos where we booked a caving, kayaking, trekking tour. They told us to wear flip-flops...they broke because the mudd (and cow shit) swallowed them so we were barefoot most the time. We slipped and slid our way through dark caves barefoot. We braved a few mini rapids in a kayak which was heaps of fun. The bars here played FRIENDS and Simpsons (yes, in English) non-stop. Also, their menu's were VERY interesting and hilarious--I'll post a picture soon.
• Made our way to Vientiane, Laos--the capital. Learned all about UXO (unexploded ordinances) through a very eye-opening and moving exhibit/organization called C.O.P.E. The bombs that USA dropped during the Vietnam war still litter Laos and about 80 million are left unexploded and possibly armed--making many aspects of life very dangerous for these people. Enjoyed a few drinks along the Mekong river at sunset. Braved the local bus.
• Back to Thailand (Chaing Mai) via an overnight (13 hour) bus. Ugh. Sucked. Hardly slept at all. But at least we had seats. Some people stood for hours on end. It was an experience.
• After a few days in CM, we loaded another "regular"bus (we laugh in the face of regular buses) and took a 4 hour (Beautiful) drive to Pai (where I now sit). We rented a SCOOTER. A PINK scooter. AND we had SEXY helmets (no worries...pics in a few days! These are blackmail pics...and I will give them free). We are IN LOVE with this place. We spent a few hours zooming around on our scooter (yes, only 1. You don't actually think I would let Rach drive, do you?!) exploring...hills, mountains, rice fields, people offering us opium (we think), waterfalls, canyons. It was nothing short of amazing. Today, we rode an elephant (my moral explantion of this to follow below)! And, it was freaking AMAZING!! Her name is Padwade---we got to feed her and ride bareback on her...then she took us to the water and threw us off. She SHOOK us off like we were flys. We won't soon (or EVER) forget this experience!
• Rach starts school on Monday---which means I need a job. Play time is almost over (well, kinda. I'm excited to teach in a foreign country!).

And my wordy version for anyone else that wishes to continue (mommy and daddy...?!) :)

The rest of Laos was great. We spent 2 days in Vang Vieng which has a reputation for being a "party place"--drugs, alcohol and young people being crazy. We wanted to check it out anyways. It was a cute enough place--gorgeous scenary right on the river. The bars that lined the main strip all played FRIENDS and Simpsons which we found hilarious (ok, ok...so we gave in and lounged to FREINDS a few times). The first night, we walked into a deserted looking bar a bit away from the rest---mainly (okay, ONLY) b/c as we were walking by, 2 ADORABLE twin thai boys literally grabbed on to us and started swinging on us. Must have known I had SUCKER written on me. We went in and were just gonna lounge and share a drink. We ordered a "mixed rum bucket" because it was cheap and sounded good. Perhaps your seasoned drinker would know this drink would come in a (very large) bucket...but we were none the wiser. DUH!! Oops. Good thing we like to share! There were a few locals next to us who we started to mingle with---and through them got to try a few shots of their locally made rice whiskey. Good, strong stuff! We got to know the owner of the place a bit, Addy--he beat me in a game of pool and practiced his English on us for a bit. We wound up making him some CD's (music can make or break these places!) the next day---he thanked us with...another bucket. Thanks Addy. We headed out (ánother bucket' came AFTER this) for our kayaking, caving, trekking trip expecting a nice little day adventure. Boy were we right! The woman assured us that wearing sandals (reefs) was the way to go. Okay. It took us about 2 minutes into the trek (guides dictionary: TREK--walking and/or wading through deep, slippery mud and cow poo so we can laugh at people who were stupid enough to wear sandals) to realize this was NOT the way to go! We "trekked"over/around rice fields which was actually kind of great...especially after Rach totally slipped and covered herself in mud (haha...cow poo). By this point, we were both barefoot walking through who-knows-what trying not to fall into the Rice. Every now and then we looked up at the scenary, but for the most part, the scenary consisted of where our next step would be. BUT, we were cracking up the whole time. When we got to the other side, we were relieved. Stupid us. Next? CAVES!! The only light we had was the one attatched to our heads---and, as we would discover, these don't do much good if your ass down most the time. The caves were crazy. And, we were BAREFOOT. Our guide says "isokayisokay" as we looked questionably at our barefeet, at him, at the makeshift ladder (with exposed nailes) in front of us, at the mudd and slippery rocks ahead. Well, if isokay, then isokay. Off we go. Rach, me and 2 irish girls (also with sandal issues) took up the rear. We had our own laughing party, taking turns laughing at who ever fell next. Every now and then, it was a really good fall---you know, one that causes you to slide down a few feet, get completely COVERED in mudd, and make a loud "thud/slpash" when you land in the muddy puddle at the bottom--thus resulting in the applause of fellow (clean) cavers. Hey, at least we got a good lunch and would get to clean off while kayaking! Ry, you would be proud of my kayaking! So the rapids weren't big (grade 1) but they were still RAPIDS!!! And I did it :)! We didn't even fall!! The tour wasn't everything that we hoped it would be (I hate organized tours!) but we definitely got a good laugh...or 1000 good laughs. If you are wondering where the "party" reputation comes in, it has to do with all the make-shift bars that line the river. Foreigners go tubing down river, stopping at the bars along the way. And, when you see a picture of the menu from a regular bar in this place, you'll understand more (but think drugs...on the menu)! Our next stop was Vientiane (the capital). We went to a place called Buddha Park which was full of larger-than-life Buddha (and other) statues. It was beautiful! Also visited the oldest wat, the main stupa (representing Buddhism and Lao soverginity), and a Revolutinary War monument (known as the vertical runway b/c it was made with cement dontated from the US for a new airport). Had some good food and enjoyed the views/sunset from the Mekong river. This is where we visited COPE and learned all about UXO. (If you want to learn more about this, email me---I'm very moved by it all and would love to talk about it!). Our trip to Laos came to a close and we took a 2.5 hour bus across the boarder to Thailand (stopping by the bus-load to sort out passport/visa stuff which, other than the heat, was easy as). There is a bridge contecting the 2 countries (the Friendship Bridge built recently) and as we crossed it, our driver had to change the side he was driving on. In Laos, they drive on the right (like us) and in Thailand, on the left. It was crazy thinking how much concentration that must take to switch back and forth like that! In order to get back to Chaing Mai, we had to take a 13 hour over-night bus. This was quite the experience! We decided to go for the cheaper option (we didn't need VIP!). Opps. The bus stopped what felt like every 10 mintues to pick people up or drop them off. And there were people standing in the isles nearly the whole journey (mind you, not the SAME people the entire time!)---and just like that my leg room was gone! Not to mention that the roads were incredibly windey and bumpy...so even if we wanted to sleep, there was something about being THROWN back and forth that kinda of prevented the zzzz from taking over. But another Thai experience that we won't soon forget! A few relaxng days in Chaing Mai before heading here, to Pai. The bus journey here was great! The scenary was amazing and though it's only 122 km from CM, it took over 4 hours (that should tell you a little about the landscape). It didn't take long for us to fall in love. Everything is beautiful around here---and the town is so layed back (if not very hippy-ish). We are staying in a "bungalow" :). Yesterday, we rented a scooter so we could explore the surrounding areas (Pai is very small). They gave us a PINK scooter!!! How'd they know that was my favorite color?!!! And to go with it, we got sexy green helmets. I'm sorry, I don't care who you are, there ain't NO way to make this look hot!! haha. I wasn't sure what to expect when renting this here scooter---I don't have an ïnternational drving license" and have never driven one of these things (or it's been a LONG time). Well. Apparently, they just wanted to see my passport. Didn't even make us wear helmets (no, that was the mom in me that decided we would look better with these goofy helmets then with smashed heads!). Didn't even give us a lesson (nope, my pride took a break and allowed me to ask some girly tourist for a lesson). Didn't even require insurance (nope, for ONCE in my life I was ALL OVER buying that optional insurance). Just passport, keys, off you go. Haha. They looked easy. haha. But they really looked easy. haha. HOW THE HELL DO PEOPLE RIDE THESE THINGS WITH BABIES ON THEIR HIPS?! Okay, so I got the hang of it...and by today, I was all over the scooter driving---but I wish I had a video of us riding our hot pink scooter down the left side of the road for the first few mintues. Please jsut picture it. Then multiple whatever you pictured by about 10. That was me and rach on this scooter for the first few mintues!! Once we got comfy though, it was AMAZING!! We explored everything around here and I felt like I was in a movie (so what if the movie was Dumb and Dumber). The scenary was amazing and we were so...free! We loved every mintue. While exploring, we passed a place that came recommened by a friend--"Joy's elephant riding". Elephant riding is a big thing here---from day 1 I would have loved to do one of those elephant riding tours---but morally, I couldn't bring myself to fall into the tourist trap. Most places treat the elephants like crap and over work them...just so they can make a buck. As much as I thought it would be an awesome experience, I didn't want to support it. So when I heard about this place...and then we passed it, I had to check it out. This woman, Joy, has 1 elephant that she rescued. She keeps her during the day and brings her to the jungle at night (not sure how she gets her back...!). It's so obvious how much she loves this thing. She only allows her to do 2 rides per day---enough to pay to feed her. When we stopped by, Joy introduced us to Padwade (the elephant that we are now in love with) and gave us a huge bag of fruit (from her garden and trees) to feed her. We loved it and made a reservation for today. Not sure of our Mahoot's name (the guy in command of this massive creature) but he was awesome! It was just me, him and Rach right on the back (not on one of those seats they use at zoos) of Padwade. Then, mahoot got off and led her from the floor--it was CRAZY! You could feel the strength of this thing--and swaying back and forth was a bit more scary then I had imagined! He led us right down to the water...where Padwade would get to "play"! haha. SANUK!!!! (Thai for Fun). The whole while, Mahoot was standing back laughing and taking pics. We were so unsuspecting (I was thinking a little spray of water from the trunk)...a few grumbles/grunts from mahoot, and padwade was sitting in the river. Still unsuspecting but holding on a little tighter. Smiling away (the pictures outline this fabulously...I'll post them ASAP). A few more grunts and BAM....Padwade is LAYING sideways in the water and we are soaked!!! All good times. We got situatied back on Padwade (which was A LOT of work!) just in time for more grunts (not to mention curious grins from mahoot). This time?! Padwade is SHAKING us off her as if we were flys!!! We did our best to hang on for a bit...but trying to hang on to a 2 ton animal who has nothing to hold on to...while she is shaking like crazy...is near impossible! We went FLYING into the water!!! We were LOVING it!! We continued to play in the water for a bit longer before making our way back---got to feed her some more and fell in love even more. More in love with her, more in love with Pai. A perfect end to a perfect trip (of a trip that has really just begun...!).

Love and kisses....

A few visuals....descriptions at the end

1) An example of what I see EVERYWHERE. Rice-paddy fields galore.

2) Kuang Si falls--pictures don't come close to doing it justice. We got to climb right into it. Amazing.

3) Tat Sae falls--reminded us of Dunn's River in Jamaica

4) An example of the scenary on our 2 day boat journey. Think those huts stand a chance in a storm?

5) Hmmm...one of the many "bridges" we walked across at the falls. Bridges here have put "swing bridges" to shame....

6) Our crowded boat--the one we were on for 14+ hours. We were a big happy family!

7)These are the boats that take people up and down the Mekong for hours on end...haha...LOVE IT

8) Crossing in the "ferry" from Thailand to Laos

Just Rolling Down the (Mekong) River

Greetings! :) First, to the mother--I didn't inform you of this trip BEFORE becuase I wanted to save you the worry...so now that I'm safe n sound, here goes!

(As I type this, I'm sitting in a cafe with a mosquito the size of my hand hanging out behind me. Remembering I was just living by 8 precepts that told me NOT to kill, I'm leaving the dang thing alone...)

So, 2 bus rides, a 2-day boat trip, and a handful of anti-malarial pills later, Rachel and I find ourselves in Luang Probang, Laos. We decided to hop the boarder a few days ago and make the most of the 2-3 weeks we have. So, we boarded a fancy-dancy bus (I only call it that b/c of what follows...) in Chiang Mai and took a 5 hour bus ride to Chaing Rai. It was an easy ride with beautiful scenary to keep our attention. There were more rolling green hills and mountains then I expected and more rice-paddy fields then I knew existed! Once we got to Chaing Rai, we boarded a "regular" bus for the 3 hour journey to the boarder of Thailand and Laos. THIS bus ride was all about the...uh...experience! Think school bus...maybe from like the 70's or 80's. Then, pile WAY too many people on it (rach and I were sharing a regular size seat with another) and then drive it over some awesomingly bumpy and unsealed (only at times..!!) roads...and THEN, continually stop to pick up MORE people....and there you have it. Instant Thai experience! Once we got to the boarder, we sorted our visas (easy as!) and boarded a "ferry" to cross the Mekong River (thus going from Chiang Khong, Thailand to Huay Xui, Laos). Now...this "ferry"...hmmm...how does one describe a few pieces of wood?? Pictures will follow when the internet is faster! We crashed at a guest house in Huay Xui for the night and got our first taste of "Laos time" and the the pace of life in these parts. We stayed here before boarding a "slow boat"...which we knew would be a 2 day adventure. About 7 hours, a night stay in a village, and another 7ish hours the next day. From what we had read, we knew the boat would be a bit uncomfortable...but we also knew that it was meant to be great views....and really, how many people can say they've floated down the Mekong River?! A bit about the boat. Mmmm, well...pictures would prolly do best to describe it. But erase any image you may have about a boat that was taking us down a river for 14 hours. It was small...well, maybe even tiny considering the number of people on it. There were hard, wooden benches big enough for 1...for 2 (on day 2 we scored some car seats that were put in the back...you may never know the full benefit and awesomeness of this!). The boat iteself was probably made by the young village kids...and the motor...well, the motor....was prolly made by them too. It was a pretty easy decision for us, but due to the rains (oh yeah..it's been raining off and on since we left Thailand), many other backpackers who were meant to get on the boat with us, opted to go by bus. I decided that I like my odds of having a chance to swim if we flipped...over the alternative in a bus (since when do heavy rains mean driving is a better idea?! Put me in the river!). The boat trip was...well, pretty great. The views were beautiful, the rains stayed pretty well away, and the time flew by. Not to mention that the stay over in the village was far from the scary thing we were expecting! We loved it there! Anyhoo, we have since run into those people that opted for the bus ride...and we made the right decision..the bus turned out to be a 15 hour nightmare.

So, here we are in Luang Probang--an adorable, quaint little city that lays on the Mekong River. We are staying in an amazing guesthouse and eating amazing food! We decided to SPLURGE on our guesthouse...a whooping $7.50...AND on a delicious and huge French-ish dinner (this part of the country is known to have a "french ghost" and, for instance, baguettes line every street) for a crazy 10 bucks. We went to a waterfall today and will be going to another tomorrow. Our plan so far is to head south to Vang Vieng and then to Vientiene before making our way back to Chaing Mai.

Not to alarm the parentals but I figured it's better if you know that I'm aware. If you have been hearing about the Mekong River floods in the news know that we are fine (and have yet to see the effects)....there was some talk of things south of here getting pretty flooded...so, we are doing all necessary research and taking necessary precautions before moving forward. I'll keep you guys posted but Internet in Laos (along with everything else) is SLOW! So don't be alarmed if you don't hear from me for a bit. Hope all is well on the home front!!

PS. Did I mention that I LOVE Laos so far?! So much so that I think I'll be job searching when we get to the bigger city!!

10 days with me, myself and...Johnathon

1) Meditation grounds (and my home) by night 2) Yep, I'm as exhausted as I look

3) Aw, she IS that cute!!

4) everytime I looked down, someone was there (I think it was the white!)

Hello!! I just spent 10 days living at a wat with the monks n nuns...doing an intensive meditation retreat. I apologize for the length of this....but a girl hasn't spoken in 10 days...so let me blab....

A word about vipassana: introspective meditation that offers insight to the 4 aspects of human life--mind, body, feelings, and mind objects (much like feelings). It is the realization (or belief...) that everything mental and physical is Anicca, (meaning impermanent), Dukkha (suffering), and Anatta (non-self). Basically, everything has a cause and effect...and unless we learn to understand that, and cut the cause (when needed), it all ends in suffering. (i.e. if we have a happy feeling, we like it, we want more, we become attatched...which eventually leads to our suffering when we can no longer have that). It puts a focus on the present moment...encouraging learners to identify (or name) everything that comes up during meditation, and then release it out and return to the present moment. And, of course, it focuses on the idea of kamma (which is the Pali word for Karma).
---there is a crap load of info on this...so if you are truly interested, look it up. This is a tiny little chunk.

A word about my day to day:
For 10 days, I didn't speak, didn't eat solid foods after noon, spent a ridiculous amount of time in a meditative walk or sit, didn't listen to music, didn't read, and lived by 8 "precepts".

Now, when I say I didn't speak, that's not entirely true. Everyday, I would report to my teacher (enter, Johnathon) and we would talk for 10-15 minutes about how it was going. I imagine him to be something like a psychologist. I would report all my feelings, how my "practice" was going... and had he not been accustomed to this, he would have thought I was bipolar. On day 5, I had a 2 minute conversation (I know this because I had a timer attached to me at all times) with another international student. So, I can't say that I didn't speak....but lets just say that this puts the "day of silence" (a gay-awareness thing we used to do at Rice) to shame.

When I say a "ridiculous amount of time", I mean that. We woke at 4am, ate breakfast at 6am, lunch at 11am, had a 15 minute meeting with Johnathon somewhere in between, and went to bed at 10pm. The rest of the time was dedicated to us...being with us...and meditating. On day 1, I started with a 5 minute walk and a 5 minute sit. By day 10, I was walking for 60 minutes and sitting for 60 minutes (multiple times a day....20 minute break between 'sets'). The walk is done incredibly slowly...think 20 yards in 20 minutes. Also, we name EVERYTHING we do or feel. (for the walk...."heel up, lifting, moving, putting"). In between meditations..."walking, opening, closing, brushing, angry, frustrated, laying, eating, tasting, seeing"....etc, etc.

A word about my living situation:
Accommodation was basic...and really, I can't complain too much. But lets just say that the 'bed' brought the meaning of uncomfortable to entirely different level. On day 1, I hated my cold shower. By day 3, it was my best friend. By day 6, I discovered there actually was a bit of hot water if you waited long enough (I hope that you can see me laughing out loud when I discovered this). One of the 8 precepts was "kill no living being" (these 8 precepts....no killing, no wrong speech, no laying on high bed, no sexual activity, no wrong eating, no stealing, no alcohol/drugs, no dancing, music, singing or beautifying self) were in place to avoid bad kamma (karma)....therefore, I simple had to say "goodnight" to the little (no...not little) spider that lived above my bed...and hope that when I stumbled to the bathroom in the middle of the night that the little (nope...not little) spider that lived there was tucked away happily under the shelf. Now, I'm not usually one to kill living things anyway...but sometimes with spiders, I could make an exception. Not this time. I haven't discovered any spider bites yet...cheers to that good karma.

A word about my experience:
I can't really get into details...anyone who has done anything like this, (or who wants to do something like this) knows (or will discover) that everyone has their own experiences. It effects everyone differently....and I don't want my experiences to shape your ideas of vipassana in any way. I will, however, give you this:
On the best day (there was only 1 of these), I felt as if I weighed 5 pounds...I was skipping, smiling ear to ear, meditating painlessly for hours (when I say hours...I mean 40 walking, 40 sitting....20 minute break....40/40, etc.). On the worst days (yes, there were many of these...but particularly day 5 and day 10), I could have screamed, could have left, could have broken something....it was excruciating...and I don't hesitate AT ALL to use that word. Along with any internal feelings (not that I have some hidden, deep anger issues...mostly it's the effects of the course...being alone 24 hours a day, etc), I had an onslaught of physical stuff. I became a bit intestinally challenged...and I believe something like this crossed my mind "no way I've been in Thailand for 2 months and NOW...NOW I'm gonna get a spurt of TD? When I'm supposed to be sitting on my ass for 12 hours a day? COME ON!". Also, I became so insanely itchy that I was sure the damn cat that I stupidly (yes, I'm angry at myself and speaking to myself this way...oh, and of course naming...."angry, angry, angry") let jump on my "bed" gave me fleas. My skin broke out and felt disgusting...and before I went to sleep on day 5, I believe I said something like this "AHHHHH. I HATE THIS PLACE. WHAT THE F***. THIS STUPID BED. IT'S NOT EVEN A BED. STUPID SPIDER...I HOPE YOU DIE. STUPID CAT....YOU'RE NOT EVEN THAT CUTE. I THOUGHT THIS MEDITATION S*** WAS MEANT TO BE GOOD FOR ME!!!!" (oh..."angry, angry, angry"...."suppressing, suppressing, suppressing", "irate, irate, irate".....). Haha. My next day with Johnathon, I explained my anger...my frustration...my wanting to leave...my thinking this was stupid....it wasn't working...and, to my surprise, Mr. freakin Johnathon came alive. Clapped his hands, smiled ear to ear, and said YES!!! YES!!! NOW you are seeing it. Mmmm...ok. If you say so dude. Then he asks...."how have you been feeling physically? Do you feel itchy? Does your skin feel greasy? Any nausea or diarrhea? Uhhhh....ok, creep ass. Yes, yes and yes. Can you explain now? Apparently....the meditation does this. It "wrings the body out"...if you will. Now, if he would have told me this AFTER I explained my 'conditions', I would have been like "yah...ok...whatever"....I didn't say a word. I felt better that all that was normal...and I believe it was day 6 that was my "best" day. Overall, it was up and down. With the ups averaging somewhere around neutral and the downs averaging somewhere around...well, hell. I didn't enjoy it...but I wasn't really expecting to. I learned stuff, but am not some "enlightened" being after 10 days. I haven't been brain-washed or mentally/physically scarred. The people closest to me may notice a slight difference...but other than that, it was more so just an eye-opening experience. Not something that I can change from just yet....just something I can choose to be more aware of. Obviously, it all goes much deeper than this...they couldn't have possibly taught me all there is to know in 10 days...and I can't possibly tell you in a blog everything I learned in 10 days....the meaning and reasoning behind everything. Why we "name" everything...why Johnathon said that I was "seeing it" after day 5...why I would possible do this to myself...why it's so important to be alone and not talk (and the true effect that has on you)...the intense feelings of "boredom" and what that can do to you....the understanding of the present moment...and how it allows you to let a lot of things go while also understanding they may come back (that idea of annica....imperamance)...the idea of accepting the fear, anger, worry and appreciating the good moments without getting caught on them....

I will give you my first experience being back in the "real world". When I got home (Spicy Thai...), I was SO excited to be here (or to be OUT of there). I talked to Saaw (1 of the chicas that works here) forever, sat on the computer forever, and decided I wanted a PIZZA...a whole one just for ME (you see...all these things I couldn't have before...). So, I had one of the girls order me one...I just pointed to a pretty picture...it looked good and I was sure I could eat the whole dang thing (come on...you have all seen me eat pizza before. And I had it from this place before...the large is quite small...and it's good). Even as I was doing this, I was saying BAD you!! Wanting, wanting, wanting....not a good path Janelle....cut the cause, cut the cause. I didn't. The pizza got here. He handed it to me and I nearly dropped it...it must have weighed 5 pounds. That's just gotta be gross. Then, the bill. It was 500 baht...which is officially, the single biggest transaction I've made since I've been in Thailand. I ate 2 slices. I feel ill. This, according to vipassana would be named "suffering, suffering, suffering"....my happy feeling of being here, led to wanting pizza, led to wanting a WHOLE pizza, led to a huge bill (13 dollars) and a stomach ache....I thus, created my own suffering. And the karma I let out by wanting, wanting, wanting came right back to me...! Now, this may seem like common sense, but you don't really realize how much it truly effects our lives, our relationships, our thoughts....and how hard it is to change...until you sit with it it....and sit with it....and walk with it....and sit with it......

Rachel will be here in 2 days....and, even through my exhaustion that makes me jump up and down!!