a i m l e s s

I’m glad to write this update.  Mostly because for the first time in my existence I created a plan, stuck with it, and succeeded in completing the first leg of my journey! 

This trip has been entirely selfish. I’m not riding for any cause or donating money to a charity (though I think sometimes that maybe I should… hmm..?)  I love to test myself and my limits.  I first and foremost want to know my breaking point; how much does it take to make me crack?  Second, (as taken from The Art of Travel) “my motive was simple and hedonistic:  I was looking for beauty.  ‘Delight and enliven me!’ was my implicit challenge!” 

I feel more alive than I have ever in my life.  The molecules of my body are buzzing.  I’m having moments of clarity all day long.. like when you see the wind whip through the branches of some tree, eclipsing the sunlight, and for a flash of a moment you feel you understand ‘it all.’  I’ve been writing a ton, lots of old and new ideas are germinating in this brain.  It’s mostly nonsensical, but this ride has returned me to myself.  Thank you, universe.

Here are the specifics of my ride so far:
(The kilometer markings are, of course, estimates.  I’ve learned two major lessons while riding.  First, don’t trust mile markers.  They often are 5-10 km off, and come in varying orders. Second, don’t trust maps.  Vietnam is growing so fast, new roads and tunnels and road names make it impossible to follow any kind of a strict plan. 

June 28:  Bought the bike, helmet, got saddlebags made, got tools, ready to go!
June 29:  Hanoi to Hoa Binh (75k)– The traffic getting out of the city was miserable!  After just a few short hours I was into rice paddies and hills in the distance.  Ahhhh, fresh air!  Less frequent air horns!  Yay!
June 30:  Hoa Binh to Mai Chau (66k)– This day broke me into pieces.  The heat, the intense uphills (there were MANY around 10%!), the lack of water and oxygen, the incessant “Hellooooo” and “waa waa waa” of the airhorn were too much to handle.  After about two hours of walking an extra long stretch of uphill (11.5k) I slumped under a bamboo shack.  A few other truckers were there.  I felt my heart pounding in my chest, head light, eyes brimming with tears.  I tried to chit chat with the truckers, choking back tears that cried, “Someone save me! I can’t do this!”  A truck driver offered me a ride to Mai Chau.  I showed him my map of the uphill, he explained that the peak of the hill is in two kilometers.  I rested my weary legs, drank some of the truckers water, and waved them along.  With my old sensei’s words ringing in my ears Marthaa….. Neverrr giiivvve upppp!!!  I suited up, gloves, shades, helmet, GO!  I remember ever second of those last two kilometers.  As the hill flattened and I was able to ride, a glance to the sky showed a quick moving storm.  Just as I reached the top, the scenic view of a downhill gliiiiiide into Mai Chau, I feel the first raindrop.  I hurry to shelter, a family selling ears of corn let me hide during the downpour.  Once it lightened up a bit, I suited up in my oblong maroon poncho (perfect for fitting just over the handlebars!) and coasted ever so graciously into the depths of the valley.  I went fast. The wind tore my helmet back off my head.  The vinyl poncho whipped behind me as I passed some extra careful motorbikes with a loud “HELLO!” and a big grin.  After this day I stayed in Mai Chau for a few days to recoup.  I redesigned my plan to exclude the intense terrain of Vietnam’s northwest, opting instead for the flat fertile plains in the central north.
July 3:  Mai Chau to Quan Hoa (45k)– A short day ended in a home-stay in a small village, new Vietnamese family and friends, eating about 35 mangoes in two days, and lots of language learning.
July 5:  Quan Hoa to Ngoc Lac (60k)– I accidentally ate dog meat at dinner with my hotel owners.  It tasted like rotten stinky dog breath and I almost yakked.  But, with grace and a terribly forced grin, I managed to swallow and excuse myself as the hotel owner’s husband started sucking the marrow out of the dog jaw bone.  (Sorry!  It had to be mentioned!)
July 7:  Ngoc Lac to Xuan Tho (100k)– I came across a church on this long ride, and remembering Oma’s words in one of her previous letters If you are ever in trouble, seek out the church….so I rode up and asked if I could stay.  The woman was terribly angry with me for disturbing the peace and quiet of the grounds around the church.  She kept motioning to me “The priests are praying, be quiet!”  It felt more like a monastery.  The woman said, no, I could not sleep at the church.  It was not safe.  (????)  I could not camp.  I could not sleep in the extra bedroom I found when I was looking for someone who worked there.  I also could not sleep on the roof balcony, with a beautiful view of the mountains.  The woman turned me down, question after question, even when I threw her the puppy dog sad eyes.  I told her I was born a Catholic, but it didn’t matter.  She pointed down the road the way I came and said the closest hotel was about 20 kilometers backwards.  NO WAY.  I continued on another 15, finally found a cafe as it was getting dark, explained my predicament to the cafe owner (Toi kawm khach san: I no hotel.  Toi zuht met: I very tired.  Toi la zao vien, di xe dap Viet:  I am teacher, go bicycle Vietnam.)  This sweet wonderful mother cooked me up some ramen and eggs, fed me beer and peanut brittle, offered me her shower, and kicked her 18 year old son out of bed so that I could sleep.  I have never been more grateful!
July 8:  Xuan Tho to Tan Ky (50k)
July 9:  Tan Ky to Cua Lo (95k)– My first day lost.  I listened to music while riding today, got distracted for 40 k, and ended up 40 k east of where I wanted to be.  It worked out though, because I ended up at a beautiful empty beach where I watched the sun set and rise, and built a driftwood campfire.  It was lovely.
July 10:  Cua Lo to Nam Dan (45k)– Nam Dan is supposedly the birthplace of Ho Chi Minh.  I’ve been reading this excellent book about the American war in Vietnam, and I’ve grown to love Uncle Ho.  He was a true visionary, and I believe if America followed through with our deal to give aid to the north and allow elections in all of Vietnam, he would have won by a landslide (he had about 80% popularity!)  But… oh America and our government’s love of guns and power and (especially) bombs.  It didn’t have to be the way it was.  Ho Chi Minh knew this, was well educated and traveled, and really believed in a better future.  It was really cool to see the house where he grew up, photos of him and his comrades conversing over jai (Vietnamese home grown tea). A nice guy on a motorbike showed me around, bought me lunch, coffee, tea, and about five stops to five different cafes on the way home (I think he was just showing me off!)  The name of this town translates to beautiful waters, and the area is just that.  Streams, lakes, rivers.  More lotus flowers than I’ve EVER EVER EVER seen.  Actually I’m not sure that I ever saw a real true lotus flower, standing tall and glorious over a field of muddy water and lily pads, before Nam Dan.  Hm.
July 11:  Nam Dan to Ha Tinh (70k) – A real big city with real big trucks.  I don’t enjoy sharing the road with these pollution-makers.
July 12:  Ha Tinh to Ngang Pass Beach (75k)– I just stopped off to drink some tea and lounge in a hammock for a few minutes.  The girl working convinced me to nod off, and I did for about an hour.  When I awoke, thankfully, my bike and possessions were just as I left them beside the tree where I rested.  I wandered around the property, to find the pristine white sandy beach cove totally uninhabited, as well as about five empty rooms with fans just sitting on the beach-front.  Decisions; sleep here…. ride bike up huge mountain pass…. of course I stayed!  I swam in the sea, made a pretty shell bracelet for the guest-house owner, and read, wrote, drew.  Felt so peaceful.  The sea will do that to you.
July 13:  Ngang Pass Beach to Phong Nha (65k)– Phong Nha is a national park in Vietnam known for its underground caves and grottoes.  I took a boat tour with a guy, his mom, and his son, who all spoke some English.  The son studies at an International School in Ho Chi Minh City, and stood towering over me (the first tall Vietnamese person I have met!)  Luckily, he translated all the tour information for me (Now we will go up 1,467 steps.  Is he joking?   I don’t think so!)  I had a nice rice and veggie dinner at the restaurant across from my hotel.  The owner’s friend kept coming by with her young daughter.  She was cared for by the owner’s eight year old daughter.  The toddler strolled right up to me, confidence exuding, and sat on my lap and peed on me, but it was okay. She was the sweetest smartest 16 month old I have ever met, but was treated so poorly.  She walked around so dirty, bare-bottomed, and treated like a dog.  If she made any sound or touched anything she was reprimanded, to the point of tears.  When she was sad and wanted a hug, she was pushed away or smacked with chopsticks.  I snatched her up and snuggled her as much as I could in the hour I stayed.  She counted the flowers in my book and I read to her in English.  She called me Me(mom) and settled back into my embrace almost falling asleep.  I returned back a few times in the next day to visit this sweet girl, I thought maybe she could soak up that bit of love and spread it out?  Oh, terrible aching sadness.
July 15:  Phong Nha to Dong Ha (150k)– I’m some sort of cycling maniac.  I don’t know what came over me on this day, but I rode all day, into the night, pushing on on on.  I’m not sure I’ll go that far again, It wasn’t very fun in the moment.  It was hot and my toes got sunburned.  But I treated myself to a nice hotel with a bathtub and hot water!  Ooh la la!

If my math is correct I have gone about 896 kilometers so far.  From here on, my plan is a bit in the air.  I’ll probably go through Laos in a few days (after riding to Hue, a big city with TOURISTS!  And PIZZA!)  Then south to Cambodia, and west into Thailand.  This is only as long as I don’t hear back from Park English in Korea… I have been corresponding with them about teaching English there from August to December.  If that’s possible, it would be great for me to do that, save some money, and maybe see my lovely ladies while I’m at it!  (I MISS YOU GIRLS!)  If not I’ll teach part time in Surat Thani or Chumpheon in Thailand.

 Toi com biet : I don’t know!

<photos soon to come, as soon as I find a computer with a working USB port!>

In a dream I was a werewolf
My soul was filled with crystal light
Lavender ribbons of rain sang
Ridding my heart of mortal fight

Broken sundown fatherless showdown
Gun hip swollen lip bottle sip yeah I suck dick
Lose grip on gravity falls sky blinding crumbling walls
River sweep away my memories of
Children’s things a young mother’s love
Before the yearning song of flesh on flesh
Young hearts burst open wounds bleed fresh
A young brother skinny and tall my older walks
Oceanward and somber, slumber sleeping
Flowers in the water,
But I’m just his daughter
Walking down an icy grave
leading to my Schizophrenic father.
Weeping willow won’t you wallow louder
Searching for my father’s power

I’ma shake you off though
Get up on that horse and
Ride into the sunset
Look back with no remorse

He’s a black magic wielder some say a witch
Wielded darkness when he was wilein’ on his mom’s
And born child and he was the bastard that broke
Up the marriage evil doer doing evil from a baby carriage
And he was born with the same blue eyes
Crystal ships dripping with ice, diamonds coruscate
In the night fireworks electric bright
And now he’s got his own two sons
Tried to hide his tearz in a world of fun
But loveless bedrooms filled with doom
Bring silent heartache July to June
Woon over new young hot flame
Mourn the memories later
Laugh now aligator

Oh in a dream
My father came to me
And made me swear that I’d keep
What sacred to me
And if I get the choice
To live in his name
I pray my way through the Rain
Singing Oh happy day

I don’t mean to close the door
But for the record my heart is sore
You blew through me like bullet holes
Left staind on my sheets and stains
On my soul
You left me broke down beggin for change
Had to catch a ride with a man who’s deranged
He had your hands and my father’s face
Another western vampire different time same place
I had dreams that brings me sadness
Pain much deep that a river
Sorrow flow through me in tiny waves of shivers
Corny movies make me reminisce
Breat me down easy on this generic love shit
First kiss frog and princess

Vietnam!

Our unwelcomed entrance to Vietnam included two overnight buses (blasting Lao music ALL NIGHT, squishing three full grown adults into seats built for two, infants wailing away, frequent slammings on brakes, crazy downhill speed stunts, and urine/b.o. smelling locals).  Exhausted, we boarded our final three hour ride; a truck taxi on pot-holed dirt road through northeastern Laos to the border city.

 All of this, and not even a kind welcome.  The Vietnamese guards were nice enough to rid us of our extra ‘kip’ (Lao money) at a terrible rate.  We were warned that locals in this border village were not used to having foreigners, and the ‘bus station’ was a mere 500 meters walk into the village.  The ‘bus station’ as mentioned, was little more than a man whose teeth were in a worse state than his rusted and dirty mini-bus.  He offered us the ridiculous price of 40US$ for a ride to Hanoi.  We were able to bargain him down to 30, but the going rate is about a quarter of that price.  Tired, hot, sweaty, muddy, we had no choice but to board this bus with it’s tiny seats and it’s men with outlandishly long finger and toenails that they ever so conveniently placed between the seats that Danny and I smushed into. 

The ride should have been 8 hours, but somehow we got shifted once more.  We stopped at every village, crossroads, town, and random house on the street, paired with a gentle constant quadruple horn honk at stops, gos, curves, straights, ups, downs, pretty much at any given moment the brake was replaced with the horn.  We arrived around midnight in Hanoi at an unnamed bus terminal to a crowd of pushy Vietnamese men who wanted us to ride on their motorbikes for an exorbitant price.  Thankfully, we knew of these scams and began our walk to the Old Quarter, realizing after just a few minutes, that we would never make it due to our current state of fatigue.  A few blocks away we flagged down a taxi, who put us on his meter and promised to take us to one of Lonely Planet’s suggested guesthouses (it was way too late to look around).  The meter rose faster than any taxi in New York City, and shafted again, we ended up paying 198,000 VND (about 12.50$) for a 15 minute taxi ride in circles.  I was so mad, I envisioned myself spitting at the taxi driver’s face, but somehow managed to keep my cool and snatch the 2,000 change as rudely as possible. 

 WELCOME TO VIETNAM.  The locals are unfriendly, unless they are trained in tourism in which case they forcefeed creepy laughter at inopportune conversational moments.  Bargaining takes on a violent undertone; as foreigners we are expected to pay five times the prices locals pay (which is okay for a vacation, but in long term travel is impossible to keep a budget!)  We’re hoping people are simply more pushy in the city, and once we leave for the south, we will encounter a friendlier vibe.

 We departed Hanoi after just a few days, to the humid and hot Cat Ba Island located in Halong Bay, just a few hours bus ride east.  We slept in a tent on the beach, burnt our fair skin in the powerful sun, swam in the warmest sea, and took a boat tour to see more islands around the area.  The water was clear and greenish, the limestone rock cliffs magnificent and large; they created some magnificent and large thoughts and emotions within me.  There were natural bridges eroded into many of the rocks, some were more narrow at the waterline, upside down tear-drop shaped protrusions of stone and green plant life.  We met a sweet sweedish family who travels together every summer in southeast asia and I felt inspired by them to instil the love of exploration and adventure to my future family. 

Back in Hanoi, our last day together, I must rush this post as Danny and I have a date with the Prison Museum to see photos of John McCain behind Vietnamese bars.  As for my future in Asia, I’ve had lots of questions about what’s next, so here’s a vague itinerary:

1.  Buy a bicycle this week, and gear, and cycle around Vietnam until the end of my visa (about three weeks.)

2.  Ride into Cambodia and explore Khmer culture, cycling through and stopping at many places along the way.

3.  Enter Thailand via bike, explore wildlife in Hat Yai National Park, and meet my new employer at the end of August in Surat Thani.

4.  Teach english part time in the port city of Chumpheon, with easy access to many beautiful islands and beaches.  (Breathe, eat, sleep, learn Thai, practice yoga)

5.  Undergo teacher training at Pyramid Yoga Center on Koh Phangan from February until April 2009.

6.  To avoid a severe beating from family and friends, return to New Jersey and share the shanti things I learned in the past year. 

Hopefully, the money will last and my bicycle will not fall apart.  No worries, I am prepared and safe for such travels (MOM, BREATHE!)

“Journeys are the midwives of thought.  Few places are more conducive to internal conversations than a moving plane, ship, or train (or bike).  There is an almost quaint correlation between what is in front of our eyes and the thoughts we are able to have in our heads: large thoughts at times requiring large views, new thoughts new places.  Introspective reflections which are liable to stall are helped along by the flow of the landscape.”

Laos is a mix of old and new.  Tradition and commercialism.  Lust and religion.  Tourists have only been visiting this country for less than 20 years, it so amazes me how traveler villages have sprung up in so many places around the country.  It’s easy to get taken aback by the beautiful natural surroundings, and instead of submersing yourself in the ‘real’ culture, to sit back and write about it in an air-conditioned PCbong.  For foreigners, this country is a paradise.  Everything is cheap; dinner is less than a dollar if you like noodle soup.  You find yourself arguing with tuk-tuk drivers over 40 cents to take you across the city.  There is very little pollution (still, thankfully) and many international NGOs working to protect the natural areas and wildlife.  It seems for the most part, foreigners who stay here care, unlike various places I saw in Thailand. 

 We entered Laos by boat in the north, to a village called Huay Xai.  The village had guesthouses with kids who spoke fluent English.  They were used to having foreigners around, and one boy learned to play guitar by travelers passing through.  The prices of food and accomodation were twice what I found was normal for Lao (ahem, 4$) and we noticed many locals still chose to bathe and do their laundry in the river.  This was my favorite type of village though.  It was small enough to remember people’s faces after only a few days, and devoid of any big commercialized buildings or restaurants.  Every shop was family owned, and also served as a living room, motorbike garage, and PCbong. 

We found out about many other opportunities while in this village, one being the Gibbon Experience.  There is a French guy who, 7 years ago, raised money to preserve the Bokeo Jungle which is home to many families of gibbons (those skinny little monkeys).  In order to preserve the jungle, he came up with an idea to bring awareness and some tourism to the area.  He and some volunteers built tree houses in a small section of the jungle, cleared out trails leading around and through the jungle, and attached ziplines between platforms to allow tourists to access more of the jungle.  For a mere 200$ you can explore the jungle with guides and delicious Lao meals included for three days two nights!  We met some new friends named Dorien, Uland, Amy, and Griffin.  Together, we zipped, hiked, swam, and generally were in awe at the jungle and the project itself.  We didn’t happen to see any gibbons, the families tended to move away from the treehouse areas after tourists began visiting, but we did learn a lot from our guides about the plants and other wildlife in the area.

But I get ahead of myself.   Before visiting Bokeo jungle, we did a two dak ‘trek’ in Luang Nam Tha province, in the northeast of Laos.  Our trek, or hike, lasted about 7 hours a day.  We traversed rice paddies, big open fields, and into the jungle with vines and steep steep steep hills.  We ended at the Ahka village.  The Ahka are a very unique indigenous tribe that grows rice in the fields.  We had massages from some of the young Ahka girls, learned lots about their culture, and took a ton of photos of the kids and elderly while the adults were working.  I wasn’t sure if I thought being there was a positive thing or not.  The kids knew there was something out there they were missing, and I think after having lots of tourists visit their village they were changing their ideas of the world.  This is more a philosophical arguement though… would you rather know or not know?  In general?  Ah, I digress. 

We then headed to Luang Prabang, French-influenced tourist central with beauuuutiful limestone waterfalls just a bikes ride from the town.  I could have spent all weeks hiding out in the caves around the falls, why I didn’t is still beyond me!  There was nice tourist friendly restaurants and covered shopping areas around the town.  It was clean and taken care of, more so than any Lao place I had seen.  In the mornings the monks who live at the temples in Luang Prabang walk down the streets collecting alms (food to eat) for that day.  We joined the Buddhists in dishing out balls of sticky rice to the line of monks as they meandered through the pre-dawn light.  It was beautiful, and I wished I was more thoughtful to give them some fruit or sweets.  Most of the monks were under 18 years old, strangely enough, and I still am not sure if they really follow Buddhist precepts… I saw some novices hitting on girls and smoking cigarettes.

Next down south to the narrow and tall limestone hills of Vang Vieng.  This village is known for drunken tourists tubing down the river, then watching reruns of Friends in the many guesthouse/restaurants along the main road.  Though we did have one day of tubing debauchery, we generally prefered to explore the surrounding natural area.  Danny went rock climbing, we visited caves, and I volunteered teaching English at a local village school.  The landscape in this area was so magnificent, you have to see it to believe it.

 Now, in Vientiene, we have checked out the city, the temples, the buddha park, got our seafood fix at the river restaurants, and are heading off (just Bubby and me) to Phonsavan, known for the thousand year old stone jars that are about 3 meters high and weigh over a ton!  Then, to explore some caves the Lao people hid out in the 1960-70s while the US carpet bombed the areas they ‘believed to be housing communist forces.’  Two days until Vietnam for some snorkeling, fishing, boating, and caving in Halong Bay!

 Next on the agenda, the division of Rumianowskis!  Danny heads south to do some diving, meanwhile I find a bicycle and finish planning my Asia bicycle adventure! 

I have been following Andrew Morgan’s bicycle ride from New Jersey through South America since he started about a year ago.  His travels and mission are inspirational to begin with, but just recently he posted a discussion quoted by Rob Thomson and originally written by Chris Goulet titled “The Explorer-Adventurers.”  I found it touching, and truly inspirational.  Do you?

 The Explorer-Adventurers

We have an insatiable thirst to experience the world firsthand.

We derive intense satisfaction in challenging, difficult, insecure, and uncomfortable environments.

We take the time to observe and absorb, because we are not racing. We are not competing with anyone but ourselves.

Our encounters with vastly different environments, lifestyles, and beliefs profoundly expand our interest and awareness of the world.

Witnessing meager standards of living forever changes our perception of the Western preoccupation with striving for material wealth.

When we return home, we feel delighted at regaining the little pleasures that have been denied to us in faraway lands.

We have frequent flashbacks of our expeditions and take pleasure in telling others our experiences.

We become tolerant of petty annoyances or discomforts and become patient in our projects.

But the ceasing of discovery and strong sensations precipitate in us a long emotional slump.

Sensations we once held to be exciting become less so.

Is it worth it?  Like they say, “It’s better to have loved (traveled) and lost (come home) than never to have loved at all.”

Once we have eaten from the tree of knowledge, we cannot go back to ignorance.

While on expeditions, our attention is intensely focused and nothing else matters, but back home it is difficult to concentrate on what we are doing.

Our successes strongly reinforce our self-esteem. We can do anything, but we find we don’t really want to do anything but explore.

We dream of more adventures, and when preoccupation turns to obsession, we are bound to realize them.

We are fascinated with the stories of other explorers and we plan our expeditions to avoid their misfortunes.

Are we escaping from something or have we been unfortunate with normal life? The true weight of these factors lies hidden from us.

What do we search for?   We don’t really know, until we find it.

Ultimately, we explore to find ourselves.

Our passion for adventure continues…

How do I start to describe this experience? 

 Marnie told me when I was first thinking of joining the Pyramid Yoga course about how things just fall into place when you find your path.  Maybe it’s a bit like the time Jessy and I were stuck in the woods behind Sayen Gardens; we were trudging through thicket and stickers and mud and branches to the eye with all kinds of difficulty.  The sun was going down and it was scary, but we wouldn’t turn around (probably my stubbornness).  After 20 or 30 minutes of  pushing through bushes and climbing over brush we came across a lit path made of concrete, about 20 feet to our left.  It was there all along.  We were going the same direction of the path, parallel.  Ironic, but that’s the way my life is positioned.  I’m resistant to doing things the easy way, seemingly, exuding all kinds of extra effort.  But the path is right there, twenty feet to my left. 

Hah. I find myself now, at 25 years old, with a teaching degree, without a job, in the mountains of northern Thailand, studying Thai yoga massage.  How I got here, I’m not sure.  But I think somehow I have found my path.  I’m sure theres some thicket and bramble.  But at least I have a direction.  Thankfully. This massage course was fused with buddhist concepts surrounding insight meditation, yoga of mindfulness, and the connection of touch.  I have always believed in the importance of touch, and it’s connection with contentment.  The Thai massage I learned integrates yoga stretching positions, internal energy lines, chakras, reiki, acupressure, and aromatherapy.  It is awesome.  After a good massage your body experiences restoration, energy, and clarity.  I WANT TO SHARE THIS. 

Our course was set in the Lahu Village, in a time where villages that are mostly untouched are people zoos, only this village wasn’t that way. People didn’t perform for us. Kids hit us with sticks. We awoke to the sound of pigs snorting and roosters crowing at 4 am. The village was ALIVE. The children were so beautiful. Learning massage amidst all this was the icing on the cake of the course. Unforgettable.   

The only way to truly experience this place is to exhale deeply when you say it.

From KoPhangan, Th…

Though parts are overcrowded by foreigners, the island maintains so much natural beauty.  The coast differs greatly from rocky shore to powder white sandy beaches.  The coral reef around the northern tip is full of schools of colored fish, many of which Bubs and I have recently learned about in the Osaka aquarium. 

We are having a beautiful time here.  The air is moist, the beach is always right nearby.  It’s a bit hot at times, sometimes it will rain thunderous downpours for hours and hours, and it’s also a bit expensive (for Thailand).. but I love it here.

 The main reason I love it here is because I have recently learned of the Pyramid Yoga Teacher Training Program that is held in the northwest jungle.  Marnie, a beautiful faerie / photographer / yogini / artiste I met while teaching in Korea has just finished her course.  She couldn’t glow any brighter.  The course not only teaches you asanas (physical postures) but delves deeply into the metaphysical world of sacred geometry, chakras, and chanting.

 So Bubs and I have magnetized a troupe of four.  Adam Shane dropped in for a visit on his way to somewhere else, plus one Marnie equals a magical four day stay on the secluded and quiet bottle beach, and numerous adventures including a 4 hour jungle trek in the pouring rain (unintentional, of course).

The people on this island are about half foreigner half Thai.  This worries me. 

Marnie and I depart in a few days for Chiang Mai, a city in the north of Thailand.  I will join her in a 12-day Thai massage course in the mountains (if you thought I gave good back rubs before… pheeewww!) and then meet up with Bubs for some jungle explorations.

The biggest dilemma in my life is as follows:

“Should I stay or should I go now?”

I am applying for the yoga teacher training program at Pyramid for next year.  February 2009 until April 2009, back in Thailand and  learning to surround myself with purple energy forcefields and shaping my body and mind into tip top condition.  When I am accepted, I have this big decision to make.  I need help making it.

If I go home, I will spend a lot on a flight.  Then car insurance, gas prices, find a job, catch up fun.  Then another flight back in 6 months.

O R

Or, I could teach somewhere for 6 months, still traveling, and save up enough for the course.  Maybe Australia?

That’s where my mind is.  Once I figure it out, I will be all anicca and awareness.  But for now, mitote.  Mental chaos. 

The Thai new year begins in mid April, with a big water festival called Songkran.  It is celebrated all around the country, in big cities, the airport, villages, roadside restaurants, etc. 

 We arrived in Bangkok just in the thick of it.  I knew there was something going on, yet still felt surprised when a guy dumped a bit of his freezing cold water bottle on me as I passed him outside the airport.  “It starts.”  Bubs and I figured out a way into the city.  We left via minivan bus flying over 100 km/hr with the sun beginning to set over the smog-coated city.  Stepping off the bus, we were confronted by lots of people drenched head to toe.  Men and women, children, teenagers, dogs, everyone was wet and dirty.  Most were splashed with some sort of white clay (all part of the fun!)  There were clear plastic bags of water hanging off many benches that lined the main intersection.  Here come Bubs and I, hot and tired, sweating and dirty, with packs huge and heavy… perfect target… somehow we skirted the water and ducked into a cab.. protection!  

On the cab ride to the hostel we drove through Songkran craziness.  Kids with hoses were totally dousing motorbike, taxis, tuk-tuks, and passerbys.  Reggaeton pumped out shop windows, Thai people danced on tables to the tunes while running around and dumping water on each other.  We got settled, put our cameras in ziplok bags, and headed out into the fun.

 The streets were LINED with people.  Everyone had either a water gun, water bottle, hose, or plastic bowl with wet clay that smelled like tea tree oil.  They smiled as we passed, eyebrows raised, and with a short nod of appreciation from us, they dumped water on us or shot us with their water guns as we ran off or dumped the ends of our warm water bottles back on them.  All this water fun was quite relieving, it was HOT.  You know how I’m always cold, well I dried off in literally 30 minutes.  Not cold.

As we continued on our way to Khao San Rd. (land of the whiteys) we saw a huge crowd forming in the middle of the road.  There was a show going on a few blocks ahead, where the kids were so plentiful they stopped all oncoming traffic.  If you have ever been to an emo show, you would understand the expressions, dances, and clutching high-pitched singing that was taking place.  Girls bopped, boys two stepped a bit, but most of the crowd was under 20.  Thai pop, or maybe Thai emo?  Either way it was super cool to hear that same genre on the total opposite side of the universe.  Bubs and I hung out for a bit with the underagers, realized how old we are now, and headed out to the “bar” scene.

 Khao San Rd. is lined with backpacker stuff.  Shops, hostels, cafes, food vendors, travel agents, and the same thai fisherman pants (that are sold near our hostel for 100 b and cost 450 b here.)  The streets were no longer full, they were MOBBED.  It was like Warped Tour, only way wetter and happier.  Ladyboys passed us by, smearing white clay on our faces with smiles that couldn’t be broken.  Children splashed in the muddy rivers pouring down the sides of the streets.  Tourists armed with waterguns and bathing suits ran around like crazy people, playing some sort of rambo game I was not at all interested in.  A big plate of Pad Thai on the street was 30 b, and DELICIOUS!  Dogs were everywhere, and they were so happy too. 

As you continued down into whiteyville, you see more and more travelers, more and more dreadlocks, more and more tattoos, piercings, ‘alternative’ folk sitting in cafes with big expensive cameras, documenting the action.  Further down, we came to more of the ‘bar’ spot where everyone is drinking or drunk and girls danced on tables in provocative ways.  Not our scene, so we bailed.  Curfew time, the police set up a blockade not allowing more people into the area.

The best part about this festival wasn’t the water or the drinking or craziness.  For me, it was at the end of the night.  Some young boys, maybe 15 or 16 grabbed a bit of the garbage that was strewn about, some buckets and empty bottles, and started a rhythm.  Bottles clashing, sticks slamming on buckets, bits of here and there, with the most mesmorizing rhythm.  Then they were dancing and singing, covered in mud and water and dirt, all around the street.  It was an expression of true freedom. 

We kept meeting people in our days following Songkran who said, “If that would have happened in America/Canada/England/Wherever… there would be so much fighting, drunken debauchery, etc.”  They were right!  Yet here, in Thailand, this ‘scary scary’ place across the universe… people of all different types can coexist, celebrate, party hard, without getting out of hand. 

Why?!  Why can’t we do this?  Why the meaningless bar fights and drama?  Why the oversensitivity?  Why the lack of LOVE?!  Everyones layers just merge together when partying in America.  All the insecurities and pent up frustrations are taken outside where they belong, never dealt with, only reacted to.  I’m so guilty of this too, which is the most frustrating part.

I’m trying, though.  Walk the talk with me.  Our generation needs some changes. 

L O V E 

Hello from Malaysia!

Danny and I read and heard bits about Green Island from people we met in Japan, but it was a German girl we met at our hostel that convinced us to take the five hour trip for a mere two days to explore this island. She stayed only one day, and it was her most favorite part of her month traveling around Taiwan.

Green Island is a volcanic island that sits about 30 km off the coast of Taitung, in the south east of Taiwan. The island is really small, just 20 km to ride the whole coast, but is surrounded by a coral reef that makes it very popular for scuba divers and snorkelers. It also has one of three salt water hot springs in the world, fed by an underground spring just along the coast!

We arrived in the hustle and bustle of a mid-Saturday ferry. Taiwanese tourists were EVERYWHERE, kinda freaked us out getting off the boat and into the town. Once we started walking we were approached by a young girl asking if we wanted to rent a scooter. She spoke English, so of course I was delighted to chat with her. Only, Bubs and I had talked about getting bicycles or walking instead of polluting the island with more fumes. There were thousands of scooters. (Maybe it just seemed like thousands, but almost everyone had one. They road with two, three, or sometimes with small kids or dogs crouched between their legs.) So this woman followed us, continually lowering her price to rent her scooter. We finally agreed at 200 NTD ($6.50) for 24 hours of a rental. Gas cost about $100 NTD to fill the tank, and we were off! Packs and all! To the campsite! Which was under construction, so we took it upon ourselves to choose the best spot overlooking the coastline and mountains, in a covered wooden pavillion on a hill. (IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. PERFECT SPOT.)

We set up my tent, dropped our stuff, and headed out to explore the island. Traveling by scooter allowed us to take our time and stop whenever we felt like it. We explored coastal caverns, tidal pools, climbed trails into the trees… and wondered… WHERE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE?! It seemed as though we were the only ones on the island. Occasionally we would see a packed tourist bus drive by, or stop at some crummy attraction (“Deer Park” where they take the wild deer and put them in a cage for tourists to poke with sticks. ICK.) But, for the most part, we were on our own and free from people, tourists, and even locals… to wander around as we wished.

We found this great little restaurant for some delicious seafood eats and, funny enough, a Korean beer I’ve never heard of. (Blue girl???)

We spent the following two days lounging, exploring, collecting shells and bits of coral, throwing them back when we realize it is stealing from the natural beauty, snorkeling with fishes DIRECTLY from the aquarium, (GUESS WHO WASN’T SCARED!!??), and playing with the wild momma dog and her puppy who were our companions at our tent site in the woods.

We got sunburnt and somehow ended up drinking and singing kareoke with the local island junior officers precinct office! We slept the last night in a jail (well, an old jail turned apartment kinda… really eerie at night… the whole ride there Bubs was yelling in my ear “ARE THEY GONNA TAKE MY KIDNEYS???!!!!”) Hahahaha, but we awoke, kidneys intact, with breakfast, water, and coffees from our new friends. Good to have friends in high places, right?!

We left the island, and are now awaiting our connecting flight to Bangkok! I’m so excited to be FINALLY in SOUTHEAST ASIA! At last, I can use this hefty Lonely Planet book I have been lugging around!

Up next, we will meet up with Adam and Marnie on Koh Phangan for some body painting and moonlit dancing, head to Santipap Gardens to volunteer (for a guy who is from East Coast USA, stuck out his thumb 30 years ago and ended up in Alaska… and somehow is now running an organic farm in rural Thailand?! I better start these Malaria pills!), and I will serve another 10 day Vipassana course before checking out Cambodia, Laos and an Elephant Saving Farm, and Vietnam!

I read the newspaper on the flight today, had a news clip for each state. New Jersey’s talked about how tourism is up 6% in New Jersey, raking in the big bucks. UMMM… Where is there to visit in JERSEY? Please compile a list so we can check them out when I get back!

What else? AHH. We will probably get certified in the next few weeks to scuba dive! Danny is pressuring me to do it. If you know me, and my panic filled fear of fish coming near me in the water, you understand WHY I MUST do this… BANISH FEAR!

We sent a big box home with all our warm clothes, tent, etc. I feel light and free without all that crap weighing me down. I will still drop more stuff (and buy some stuff too!!) If you request any Thai goodies, let me know! What do you want? Email me your address if I don’t have it. Adam claims the shopping in Bangkok is great and cheap.

Have a beautiful day!

And see this movie, Bella, if you haven’t already.
If you liked Garden State, you will love it.

Just stepping out of that air conditioned airport and into the humid warm Taiwanese morning… that is all that did it.

 I AM REVIVED.

I didn’t know I felt like Japan was slowing dissipating my soul, that is, until I left.  Being in the warm air, amidst common non-citified folk, I noticed a skip in  my step… a tune in my voice.

Global warming is having its affects everywhere I go, it seems.  The April weather is in the mid 90s with HIGH humidity.

The small town we are staying is on Taiwan’s eastern coast, just below Tarako National park, known for its natural granite-filled gorges and beautiful mountains.  It is a laid back beachy type town, close to surfing and ultratouristy in the summer months.  Only now, now is the best time to visit.  The locals haven’t seen many travelers and are enthralled to practice their English helping us around, the prices for food and lodging haven’t skyrocketed, and the weather is perfect for taking days slow and breathing.

We are going to try to sleep two to my tent on the beach for a few nights.  I think its possible, Bubbs has his doubts.

A week, some beaches, some granite gorges, and then THAILAND!