In Search of the Irrawaddy

Looking back, looking forward, and some photos of Vietnam

It's been very strange for me to come back to the States. I was more than ready to return; the holidays still hit me head on and I'm still a bit jarred by huge grocery stores and the ability to eavesdrop on people speaking my native language. I really feel as though I learned what I could live with, and also what I could live without. (That list just gets longer and longer and longer).

Also, it's interesting to look back at my photos and to think of all the portraits of people I met I wish I'd gathered. It's such a delicate balance--- making sure you don't just spend your time with a lens so glued to your face that you miss out on what's around you. That's the importance of taking your camera everywhere, I realize. You edit, you push yourself, and you capture not just more, but you capture it right. You know, the ol' quality v. quantity debate. 

Here are a few photos from Vietnam- I tried to pick ones that really conveyed the feel of the country, even if not all of 'em are top notch quality. The pictures begin in North Vietnam and end in South Vietnam; in the Mekong Delta. You'll journey through Sapa, Halong Bay, Cat Ba, Hanoi, Hue, Nha Trang, Hoi An, Dalat, Mui Ne, Saigon (Ho Chi Minh), and the Mekong Delta. Enjoy.

Diving Photos- Koh Tao, Thailand

Happy holidays, everyone. The exhaustion and confusion I've experienced since returning December 13th has only recently begun to wane, so it's time I started sharing pictures now that I can upload them.

The following are some of my favorite photos from diving in Koh Tao, Thailand, around December 8th. After completing my Advanced Diver certification (means I can dive to 30 meters and dive at night), I did an Underwater Photography course. Until you're Advanced certified, you can't dive with a camera--- the advanced certification focuses on honing in your buoyancy (so you don't disturb precious wildlife by slamming your body into coral while you're trying to photograph something) and it also gets you more familiar with using your equipment well. So, the advanced certification was a means to an end: I really have always wanted to be able to take photos while diving.

Armed with my own G-11 and an underwater housing I'd been traveling with for months (it got used a bit during kayaking in Halong Bay), I headed underwater. I'm so happy to be able to share with you what this beautiful underwater environment holds.

This is a scene you'd be likely to see when you first dive in and descend to about 10 meters. Small pockets of coral are nestled along the ocean floor, and schools of fish find safety in numbers. The boat has dropped anchor in the sand or attached to a buoy so as not to damage a coral garden. Something to keep in mind when you're viewing these photos: there are so many moving objects, it's a struggle to get your camera to always have a good focus field. And, your subjects are moving... constantly... But that's half the fun.

 

Well, ok, to see this and other photos, you really should visit the flickr slideshow I set up. It's got descriptions to the photos- so be sure to turn on the information and set the slideshow to slow. I tried my best to identify fish and provide extra information about the time I spent trying to capture the underwater world. Click the link below to see things full size, or for a preview try the tiny embedded flash file.

Koh Tao- My first underwater photography adventure (full size link to Flickr with info)

Embedded flash:

 

Enjoy!

 

A Childlike Fascination

I've always loved ancient civilizations. The Maya, the Inca, the Egyptians, the Greeks and Romans... I would spend hours pouring over beautifully illustrated books capturing the glory and downfalls of each society. No amount of previous research prepared me for the wonderment I just experienced walking through the ghosts of ancient Cambodia's past over the last three days.

To visit the Angkor temples, you stay in Siem Reap- a bustling but easy to handle town filled with countless open air and two story restaurants with a bit of a Las Vegas vibe. (Well, I dunno. I've never been to Vegas and really don't have the desire to). From Siem Reap, temples are anywhere from 2-70 kilometers away. I was familiar with a few of the temples I'd like to see, but I really had no idea just how dotted the countryside was with temples built between 900 and 1300 A.D. I think if you went templing every day, 9-5 for a week, you MIGHT just see them all and give them justice.

I think I'll wait to describe the temples until after I return home, so that I can do some thorough posts with historic details and photos. In fact, I'd like to do steady posts reflecting my trip and sharing pictures (I picked up a virus on my memory card, so I haven't been able to upload). But I've been going for the last three days, spending all day crawling up temples and scrambling up mountains for views, carvings, and the chance to walk around in those books I read as a kid.

The god-kings who built those temples could never imagine a day when their civilization would fall... and when the stone steps that once led kings to special chambers to pray for protection before a battle would lead hordes of tourists to amazing photo opportunities. The mythology woven on the walls of these temples is enthralling, filled with tales of gods and demons and wars and celebrations, and the occasional crocodile eating someone. I can't imagine a better way to spend three days.

So Roni is selflessly volunteering this week at a school- she's decided to stay in Cambodia, and I have to say I'm a bit jealous. The people here are spectacular--- they're so full of laughter and joy and sincerity, and while you still get harrassed on the street ("Tuk tuk lady? Where are you going? Where are you from? You buy from meeeeee?") there's a different feel here than the other countries I visited. It's a hopeful courageous spirit that has defied their recent history of war, atrocities, and death. It's holding your family and friends a little closer, and appreciating everything you have because your society almost wiped itself out within the last 40 years.

It's rebuilding a glorious society with the lessons of the ancients in mind.

Pictures to come, of course, with further explanations. I've been doing research to find out more about the Khmer Rouge, and I think I'm starting to understand the intricate causes of such a terror filled regime. So, look for that some time in the New Year as I'll be using this blog to reflect and ruminate.

As for the rest of my trip, I'm headed to some islands in Thailand--- today I'll land on Ko Samui and tomorrow I'll depart for the diving mecca of Ko Tao. There I'll get my advanced certification (I'll be able to dive up to 30 meters) and I'll also be taking an underwater photography class. I'm so excited, and hope I get to see large animals like whale sharks. Then, it's back to Bangkok for a fun-filled 23 hour day of travel home on Dec. 13.

So, I don't know if I'll be blogging until I get home. Just wanted to say thanks for sharing the adventure, and maybe you'll hear from me soon.

-a

Countdown to Angkor

So it's been about a week since I've blogged... I have good excuses. For one, the trip out of Vietnam was less than exciting; it was actually quite a pain in the ass. It could justify a whole blog entry itself on how we got ripped off by a terrible tour company that lied directly to my face, but I'd rather just give it a rest and move on.

We arrived in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, about 5 days ago. We managed a great day of sight seeing, including the horrible S-21 prison of the Khmer Rouge, the National Museum, and the Royal Palace. About 24 hours into being there, I contracted a terrible stomach bacterial problem type thing that had me bedridden and not interested in food for about 3 days. On the third day, I was well enough to visit a doctor-- I was shocked to pay $30 and be seen immediately by a very stern but effective Eastern European woman who had 30 years of experience in Africa before practicing medicine in Cambodia. She wanted to put me on a IV drip to get my fluids back, but the thought of being on a 2 hour drip in Cambodia wasn't appealing... so I've been getting my energy back thanks to antibiotics, probiotics, bread products, and rehydration powder called Royal D. I'm slowly weaning myself off of this diet, but I think I won't be eating very adventurously for the rest of the trip. (Less than two weeks to go!)

Once I could travel, we made it to the small northern town of Kratie to finally see our precious Irrawaddy dolphin. A wooden boat with a motor that resembled a weed whacker took us out into the huge freshwater lake at sunset- we saw anywhere from 5-10 dolphins almost immediately! The sunset was gorgeous over the water, and it was so special to witness an endangered species in their native habitat. Apparently new calves aren't being born within the pod (I think a pack of dolphins is a pod???) but conservation efforts sound promising, and the local culture of Kratie is very proud of their dolphins. Mission accomplished! We found our stupid-faced dolphin!

The next day, we hired bicycles and took them across the river to a small rural island. We cycled through what was really a nonstop peaceful village circumscribing rice fields and banana trees. Kids yelled "Hello!" incessantly, and we saw plenty of cattle, chickens, pigs, dogs, and ponies (used to pull adorable little carts used for hauling people and farming related gear). The women at a few food stands (who wear their pajamas during the daytime- we're talkin' bright printed matching sets here) had a few good laughs at us, and though my bike managed to get a flat back tire, I'd say the day was a success.

Still running low on steam because of my illness, I turned in early. We woke up this morning to high tail it to Siem Reap on the other side of Cambodia, and 9 hours of bus riding later, we made it to this fabled city. It's so strange for me to be somewhere right now that I dreamed of visiting as a kid- it's like I've finally made it to Disney Land, only instead of cartoon creatures I get ancient temples at sunrise. Tomorrow morning we depart for the temples of Angkor at 4:30 AM- about 8 hours away now, so i should wrap up this slightly pitiful excuse for a blog entry and get myself to bed.

More later about the Khmer Rouge and the tragic events of 1975-1978 that led to 1.7 million Cambodians dying at their own hands during a bloody revolution followed by frightening fascist rule. But now- bed. And dreams to come.

Giving thanks, and giving thought to the past

Happy thanksgiving, everyone! I'm currently in the Mekong Delta- we have one more night in a "floating hotel" before we head to the border to cross into Cambodia. I'm ready to leave Vietnam- it's been almost a month, and except for just a few locations, I feel we've really seen this country through and through.

Just two days ago, we spent some time in Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City. This city was the best place to really work our way through the history of the American/Vietnam War--- but from a Vietnamese perspective. First, we went to the Reunification Palace-- the location where Vietcong tanks smashed through the gates on April 30, 1975, designating the complete collapse of the South Vietnamese Army rule. (The US backed the South Vietnamese army; the Vietcong controlled many parts of the north and as guerrilla fighters also held many bases and territories in small pockets all around the country.) By 1975, the US had pretty much already admitted defeat, but still carpet balmed many areas just outside of Saigon. The War Remnants Museum (formerly called the "American War Crimes Museum") well documented the effects of carpet bombing, use of napalm and Agent Orange, and the massacres that occured in Southern towns where American troops shot entire villages worth of people: the old, the young, the pregnant, the infirm.

All in all, it's been a time to reflect on the atrocities of war from all sides.

On our way to the Cu Chi tunnels- a network of tunnels used by the Vietcong to live in for years in the jungle outside of Saigon- we stopped at a factory where victims of Agent Orange create beautiful pearl inlay handicrafts and panels. As is found in American Vietnam War vets, anyone exposed to Agent Orange can suffer from skin disease, necrosis, paralysis, nerve disorders, and spine issues. Their children often have multiple deformities- two elbows on one arm, deformed legs that cannot hold any weight, missing limbs, deformed skulls, dwarfism, spina bifidia. Just to name a few.

We walked through the factory noticing beautiful works being created- all you needed to do though was look under the tables and see that many people had limbs missing, or terribly deformed legs and backs. These were the children of Vietcong soldiers who started families after the war. Many of them are my age.

Continuing on, the Cu Chi tunnels were quite disturbing- I actually had the chance to crawl through one for about 20 meters and have to say it was hot, frightening, and incredibly taxing on your body. The Vietcong would squat and walk (like a crab, kinda) for up to 6km a day to the tunnel that stretched under a nearby US base. It took the US a long time to understand why their soldiers were being killed by snipers in their sleep. We also witnessed horrific booby traps placed all over the jungle which could camoflauge with anything. Even cooking vents were disguised as termite nests.

Looking around at the foliage that had returned, it was hard to imagine this once was a heavily napalmed and burned area of forest.

War is a terrible, terrible beast. I'm thankful I've never had to witness it first hand, other than the 9/11 attacks in New York City. But the horrors this country has undergone-- from being occupied by the Chinese for 1000 years to the french for 200 to being at war with the US for 15 years... the people here just want peace.

So do I. Today, I'll give thanks for moments of peace, and wish there was more of it to go around.

Vietnam: A few observations.

The rain has been falling steadily in the mountainous city of Dalat, which is known for its kitschy attractions, turning waterfalls and valleys into Disney-esque theme parks (on a miniature golf course budget). It's fun for a bit, but in all I'm pretty sick of rain and would like to be somewhere a bit more inspiring. Taking photos on top of a fiberglass Javanese Rhino is fun, but the thrill doesn't last as long as, say, strolling through ancient ruins.

That said, we bus out of Dalat to the beachfront city of Mui Ne. I don't think there's diving there, but I can try my hand at kite surfing and well, hopefully, just get more sunshine. I have this fantasy that I'll one day live in the tropics, but I'll have to get over my rainy weather duldrums to handle such a dream becoming a reality.

So, I thought I'd drop a line with a post that I've been kicking around in my head for a couple weeks. It's just some brief observations on Vietnam in general.

1) (DUH)- Everyone rides a motorbike. Families of 4 pile on, and it's normal to see a cage of pigs on the back of one cruising down the road. Traffic rules for motorbike users are pretty outrageous-- many cities don't have real traffic lights, except at major intersections (think where three large avenues cross creating a six spoked mess)- and most intersections consist of a painted cement barrel with an arrow dividing all thraffic. Parents cue up outside of primary schools in the afternoons, and their kids often stand between the seat and the steering fork, hiding under their parent's poncho in the rain. Motorbikes are also a great source of income- it's the cab of choice for a sunny day. Negotiate a price from one of the many guys following you around saying "Miss, motorbike?" and BOOM- you can be 3 km away at a beach in 3 minutes for about 50 cents. Guys in southern parts of Vietnam also have motorcycle services called "Easy Rider" and can take you on long motorcycle tours. They get pretty damn annoying. Many people also ride bicycles, but in the mess of motorbikes, buses, and the occasional car, the cyclist is really taking a risk.

2) Street food stalls often come with tiny plastic tables and stools shorter than what you'd use in your house to reach for something on a shelf. I'm not a tall person, and I often feel like a squished spider trying to manage. The usual condiments/utensils present for most Pho (soup) stalls include: chopsticks, spoons, a toilet paper roll, chopped limes, lettuce and herb leaves, squid/fish sauce, chili paste, sugar, and MSG granules. Napkins don't exist--- it's all wrapped wet-naps (which you're sometimes charged for if they're at the table). Most common is a toilet paper roll hidden in a kleenex box.

3) Toilets. There are many modern toilets, but in rest stops for bus rides especially, you gotta navigate the squat-toilet, which is just a glorified hole in the ground. Often there's no toilet paper, so you need to plan ahead or use the hose attached to the toilet for your own little freshen-up. No paper can go in any toilet, so you put it in a waste basket. Sometimes there's a bucket of water with a big scoop ladle in the bathroom which you scoop water into, forcing the water down to flush. Using a squat toilet as a woman is pretty darn hard... inspires me to often just wear a skirt on a bus ride for ease.

4) Coffee. Coffee with milk can mean fresh milk (out of a cardboard box) or condensed milk, so you have to specify sweet or fresh. Many places give you a metal drip top to your coffee and you wait for it to brew at the table. Mugs are always glasses. I haven't seen a mug since Laos.

5) Women. Women run any service oriented job here, from the food stalls to the hotels to the travel offices. I'm not quite sure what most men do all day, since they only seem to be on the street trying to get you to take a motorbike. Women also are constantly telling me that they feel too fat or too dark skinned and men don't like that... it's pretty unfortunate, since I really haven't seen a fat Vietnamese woman and I think their creamy skin tones are gorgeous. As a result of the "lighter is better" phenomenon, you have to be careful when buying sunscreen or moisturizer here as it often comes with "lightening agents". Also, women always carry umbrellas in the sun (some men too).

6) Almost everyone wears face masks, sometimes made of faux-designer materials. Burberry face mask? Louis Vuitton face mask? Sure. The masks come in handy for moto drivers, but even a local bus will pass and people ON the bus, even with the windows closed, are wearing masks. They take their disease control seriously.

7) People really do wear conical hats, and they have many important uses. They are perfect rain shields, sun shields, and can be used to dip in water for bathing.

8) Rice fields are everywhere. Palm trees proliferate the coastlines while pines dominate the mountains. In between, you can find eucalyptus forests. Here, in Dalat, a mountainous region, poinsettias grow to be full sized trees.

9) People wear fake designer EVERYTHING, and many things are terrible rip offs. Imagine a pair of cheap plastic shoes, you know, the kind of plastic they use to make dollar store toilet scrubbers. Well, slap on a Chanel logo and BOOM- it's fashion. I love seeing misspelled shirts as well-- on a recent van ride, a Chinese tourist who couldn't have been older than 19 kept falling asleep on me... sure, it was a little annoying, but I found her endearing as her shirt read "Rock and Rill".

10) Misspellings in English are everywhere, even on carved granite plaques at historic sites. It's pretty unfortunate, because these things cost a lot of money!

11) Architecture is pretty much stuck in the 1960's. Bright blues, beiges, pinks, and yellows are slapped on any sort of plaster, and high rise hotels often seem to take their decorating tips from Best Westerns from the 1980's.

12) Big grocery stores just don't seem to exist. Small open air markets exist all over every town, where people can buy meats sitting out in ways that would make US Health Inspectors faint at first sight. Produce is piled high and brought in fresh every day. I've seen a few big box stores, but they're for large items, like paper goods and cereal. If you want a snack, better find a little mini mart and hope your cookies aren't terribly stale.

13) People karaoke the way you and I would go get a beer. It's a social, every day sort of way to unwind.

That's it for now... I'll keep my observations coming as I like the details the most. Cheers!

You never forget your first time.

I escaped the rain of Hoi An for the sunny city of Nha Trang just 36 hours ago. Hard to imagine that Sunday night we were singing karaoke with a woman we made friends with in Hoi An and her family... fast forward to Tuesday morning and I'm chasing fish in a Vietnamese reef.

This last summer I became dive certified in Lake Travis, which is not the most exciting place to learn as visibility was basically one foot in front of you in all directions. Marine life included perch and catfish--- so, I got to see the underwater lairs of the animals I'd catch as a kid fishing with my Dad. Intersting, but not thrilling. Tiring, really.

So today was my first real dive as a certified diver. I was nervous as hell booking the trip, but I found a great dive center here in Nha Trang that's a member of PADI, the organization that was responsible for my certification through a Texas dive center. Rainbow Divers is all over Vietnam and Thailand... I still voiced my concerns: don't put me on a dive that's too challenging, don't put me with an impatient instructor... And the cute Australian boy managing my reservation (he really couldn't have been older than 21) reassured me he'd find me a good diving instructor who would dive with me one on one.

And so, I get Ahn. Ahn is probably in his late 40's, and he's recognized (well, according to Rainbow Divers) as one of Vietnam's most experienced dive masters. He's got more than 25,000 dives under his weight belt... (heh, diver joke)- so, I had no reason to be worried. He was patient, kind, and very helpful since I had a slight problem sinking for a while. (I had been properly weighted for freshwater thanks to my certification dives, but forgot that in saltwater I needed more weight because the water is more buoyant. Oops.) So, with Ahn helping me get into my sausage casing of a wet suit, I strapped myself into the BCD system and tank (it felt heavier than my backpack... that says A LOT) and took the big plunge off the side of the boat.

Visibility was still low as we sunk to the bottom... but I soon relaxed into the dive and happily followed Ahn around (though I was a bit clumsy with my buoyancy and drifted into him frequently). I had no expectations for the dive- really, I wanted to quite literally get my feet wet so that my first dive wouldn't be a sort of ominous "to-do" following me around on this trip. I couldn't have been happier with the situation--- it was an easy two dives, with great things to see, but no gigantic creatures to terrify me as I tried to get used to diving again. I don't know about you, but seeing a whale shark on my first dive would be too much to handle... like getting your license to drive and then entering a drag race. I can tend to like things in their proper portions when it comes to acclimating myself to something new.

So about the dive. It's amazing how you can sink through thick, dark water, and then the bottom comes into view and suddenly your vision clears. Corals, rocks, and tiny fish come into view, and just as you're reminding yourself to look at your gauges and make a mental checklist of all your underwater signals, suddenly an electric blue fish swims right in front of your face. This is really happening! It's not a catfish or a perch...

Ahn led me through some beautiful coral jungles- mostly different shades of red, pink, and beige: some fan shaped, some brain shaped, some formed huge shelves which gave refuge for fish underneath. I saw clownfish (black and orange as well as the standard Nemo-orange) playing in anemones, unphased by the sting it would give any other fish.

I saw pipe fish balancing in the current with their long noses pointing down towards the sandy bottom- the stripes down the length of their body made them look like the soccerball-sized black spiky sea urchins around them when the current shifted, or just like pieces of ocean debris. Pipefish are actually in the same family as seahorses. Oh, and FYI- these are internet sourced pictures for you to get an idea of what I saw. They aren't my pictures... YET. I plan on doing some underwater photography and videography once I get the hang of diving.

 

On a coral shelf, a nudibranch blended in perfectly with the 3D quality of the rocky surface covered in algae. Angel fish danced among red coral trees, and tiny silver fish darted in and out of coral for cover. Ahn picked up a pudgy bright blue starfish- it was definitely as big as a basketball- and handed it to me. It felt dense yet had a spongelike quality, like play-doh. Later on the dive I saw one wrapped around a big branch of coral, almost in a snuggle of sorts, like a koala hanging onto a tree. Light pink starfish identical to the blue one also peppered the reef, as well as tiny christmas tree anenomes which close quickly if you wave your hand near them.

The two highlights of the dives: MORAY EEL AND LIONFISH!!! I saw one of each. The moray eel popped out of some red coral to hiss at us as we drifted by. I don't think I've seen such an evil looking creature... it's the stuff Greek mythology surely pulled from to create their sea monsters. Eels make for some damn good eating though, I must add. This moray was at least six feet long, and deep brown with white dots. When he hissed, you could see the crazy teeth in his mouth, and the look on his face was pretty menacing. He looked a lot like this handsome devil:

 

We were drifting along on the start of the second dive when I thought, hm, maybe this dive won't be as interesting as the first. Suddenly, a lion fish- pretty much one of the flashiest, most dangerous beasts of the ocean casually drifted past. It was a small one- only about the size of my outstretched hand, but the poison in that puppy could cause some serious pain. Here's a lionfish for ya if you're curious:

 
I'm looking forward to more diving, hopefully in Vietnam at Phu Quoc island (next to Cambodia) and Ko Tao island in Thailand. I'm pretty hooked.

Well, it's 9:20 pm, and time to call my dad to wish him a happy birthday. I celebrated for him by eating an ostrich burger. It seemed fitting. Tomorrow morning it's off to Dalat- a kitschy, romantic town nestled away in the southern highlands. See ya then.

Hoi An, a girl's dream come true

I'm currently in the deliciously sleepy town of Hoi An. Think: homes with mossy green tiled roofs with carved dragons in wood paneling painted a fading mustard yellow. Silk lanterns in reds, blues, and greens illuminate the streets at night, and since it's been raining, all the puddles dance with different colors down the pedestrian walking streets barely large enough to have let two horse drawn carraiges pass each other in days of old.

It's charming, easy to walk, and...

YOU CAN GET ANY PIECE OF CLOTHING YOU WANT MADE CUSTOM TO FIT YOUR BODY!!!

Ok, I've gone a little wild. But it's a not-stick-thin girl's dream: to actually have clothes that fit. I don't even want to admit how many pieces I've gotten made, but the cost is all less than buying two dresses in Austin.

Aside from shopping shopping shopping... we've been eating delicious local food and I've been chasing the pork bun man down the street as he pushes his cart past one spot at 3pm every day. Funny how you can get into the swing of people's schedules.

Today we visited a UNESCO world heritage site called My Son (pronounced Me Sun)- it is to Vietnam what Angkor Wat is to Cambodia: an amazing temple complex built to worship Hindu gods about 1,000 years ago by the Champa kings. Thing is, the Viet Cong used it as a hideout during the "American War", and about 90% of the whole temple site was obliterated by B-52 bombers during a bomb raid in 1969. Restoration is still underway, but many of the statues had their faces removed (our tour guide said it is believed American GI's removed the faces to keep the Champa descendents and Viet Cong away)- so the whole complex is a bit shabby, though still inspiring. Seems no one knows just how the bricks are held together--- there's no mortar, and attempts at recreating the style of brick work achieved by the Champa craftsmen have still been unsuccessful for archaeologists from Poland and Italy who have spent over 25 years on the project.

Interesting. And a stark reminder of the cards played in this country years ago by the US. Makes me think about "rules of engagement"- first off, the idea that war itself comes with rules, as if there's a dignified way to kill people, is outrageous. But I wish all heritage sites and places of worship were completely off limits to all warfare. The thought that a 30m high Champa tower was destroyed completely by American bombs in one fell swoop is just too sad to handle. But that's the way the world turns, I suppose.

Gotta go get one of my last clothes fittings... more on the whole process later. We'll be leaving town to continue heading south on Monday, avoiding what we hoped would be fantastic beaches as it's stormy weather for the next week. C'est la vie. We may find ourselves in Thailand a bit early for some sunshine, diving, snorkeling, swimming...

"I follow you everywhere! Long time!"

Oh dear. It's been a week since I've posted! I'm currently in Hoi An, but last I blogged I was still in Cat Ba near Halong Bay in northern Vietnam.

Since then, my itinerary has been Cat Ba- > Hanoi -> Sapa-> Hanoi -> Danang -> Hue -> Hoi An. Yikes.

So in Hanoi we said goodbye to my high school friend Mac (who is nursing a monkey bite and undergoing several rabies shots as we speak). Turns out the monkeys on Monkey Island get even MORE aggressive if you try to feed them. Mac had the genius idea of returning to Monkey Island with a bunch of bananas and feeding the monkeys. We wanted to find out whether or not the monkey/banana combo was just a stereotype. One monkey, upon seeing Mac with bananas, came rushing up to him. Sitting patiently, he took a banana from Mac's hand and peeled and ate it. Then another. Then other monkeys came running up the beach, and the banana-eater seemingly got aggravated that he was getting only one banana at a time and would soon have competition.

So, after he took a third banana, he graciously chomped right into Mac's knee. Mac had to toss the entire bunch of bananas to avoid being chased.

Thankfully, Mac had the cell phone number of our local tour operator, and after calling him and the embassy we arrived on shore, where our tour operator whisked Mac away to a local doctor. In Mac's description, he interrupted the 75 year old doctor and his wife's dinner, in a modest home with a back shed which was the doctor's office. Apparently during the day, people form a line to be seen by this man, who is a "American War" hero, having worked to save many Viet Cong soldiers' lives. So, Mac felt a bit awkward... but the doctor did a great job cleaning out the wound, and refused payment. Mac insisted on paying, and our tour guide refused money as well for taking him there.

Lesson learned: Don't feed the animals. Mac's love affair with monkeys is officially over... but he still has an affinity for putting himself in stupid situations. (You know I love you, Mac).

So, we recovered from monke mayhem by going to our favorite bar and getting massages and drinks. Then next day we returned to Hanoi by bus, boat, then bus. Mac, needing to get to a real hospital for rabies shots and needing some R & R, checked into the Hanoi Metropole run by the Sofitel chain. We were quite a scene, walking in sunburned and with our backpacks. A shower, a burger, and a train ticket later, I was on a terrible sleeper train up to the highlands of Sapa, near the Chinese border. Sapa is known for all the hill tribe people who live near Fansipan, Indochina's tallest peak (over 3,000 meters). Sapa is filled with rolling hills an mountains, marked with running streams, pine trees, and terraced rice and corn farming. Some terraces are bright green with water puddles filled with frollicking ducks- others are dry brown, resembling caramel being poured from a bowl. Everything looks like a topographic map in 3D.

Roni and Ania didn't take to Sapa well, so they split after one night and took a series of overnight buses down south. I'm not an overnight any-type-of-transportation-person... I prefer to have my sleep in a motionless bed, thank you. I also wanted to check out an Eco-Lodge about 30 kilometers out of town for my own little retreat. The views were stunning, and I ate some of the most delicious food at the Lodge. (Try getting some lemongrass stalks- form some beef patties AROUND them, then cover in hoisin sauce and grill or fry. DELICIOUS!) It was so peaceful up there in the mountains away from the city... I did some good thinking and sleeping after almost having a panic attack on that terrible overnight train. Seriously, it's like sleeping in coffins, six people to a tiny closet. Not good. You can't even sit up in your bunk--- there's no room.  Like a morgue, really.

Enough about that terrible train ride that deposited us in a town at 4am.

My stay in Sapa was punctuated by niceness from locals. This was really the gift I needed. Roni and Ania had found another place to stay and I was wandering the city by myself, avoiding the village people hawking stuff following you around everywhere. It's almost laughable how women in their tribal outfits can be seen chasing tourists down the street with their usual conversation: "Hello--- Where are you from? What's your name? Buy something from meeeeee?" The women here really do wear their tribal dress every day- it's not just to lure tourists. It's their actual wardrobe, and they're selling things they've made themselves.

There was a woman whom I recognized was following me for pretty much 24 hours... and she saw me once and exclaimed: "Why you not buy from me? I follow you everywhere! Long time!" And I'm thinking, LADY... that's EXACTLY why I didn't buy from you.

But the women themselves, even if hardened by sun, are gorgeous, and seeing them hustling around town with wicker baskets filled with wares or babies strapped to their back is quite an awesome sight. To be in a town where more tribal people populate certain streets than tourists... pretty fantastic.

And seeing the mountains is also a huge plus. Getting out of breath so easily is a bit of a shocker... thanks, altitude.

But back to the locals. I met a lovely couple who run the only bookstore in town (I've been devouring books and keep needing to buy or trade them, so bookstores with English titles are like gold to me. Reading now: Bill Bryson's "A Brief History of Everything"--SO GOOD-- and Graham Greene's "The Quiet American"--- appropriate for Vietnam). The couple helped me find a hilltribe trek, helped me arrange the eco lodge, and we exchanged pleasantries over tea and playing with their dog "Lucky". I also made a friend at the pastry shop attached to a hotel--- my waiter was sincerely interested in testing his English, and we chatted about everything. He wants to become a doctor, so this is his job for now until he goes back to Hanoi to study. When he saw me the next day on my way to the Eco Lodge, he insisted on walking me to the tour company. He asked me how old I was... and he thought I was 20! When I told him I was 28, he laughed and said "Oh, you my older sister!!" He still insisted on buying my bottle of water when I stopped to pick one up before the van ride out of town.

Roni and Ania had then continued on an overnight bus back to Hanoi, and I stayed at the Lodge. The next day, I returned to Sapa, booked a flight for the next morning out of Hanoi to Danang, and bought another overnight train ticket to take me back to Hanoi in time for that flight. It took all my courage to book another overnight train ticket... I did NOT want to take one, but I booked this time through a good tour company (not at the station, and not on a Friday night) and got myself a true tourist train sleeper bed (one with only 4 people to a room, not 6, and one filled with tourists, not all Vietnamese people). I have nothing against riding in a train with Vietnamese people... let's get that straight... but I did like riding in a car filled with tourists just so I could sleep instead of wondering if there was a theif in the  cabin. And we had a door that locks.

On the way to the train station, I met a cool couple from San Francisco- we shared beers and exchanged business cards. They had a later train than I did, and unfortunately some travel agent totally screwed them on their train tickets, so they were stuck in the awful sleeping arrangement I had on the way to Sapa. I wished them luck and thanked them for the beer. Little did I know they'd be on my flight the next morning! Funny how you see the same people everywhere. Even on no sleep, they were lovely to see, and I hope we keep in touch.

On to the train- I was happy to see my train car was actually a soft sleeper (this means a bit more cushioning) with 4 bunks per room (instead of the hard sleeper I'd had with 6 bunks). I shared my room with one native guy from Hanoi who was incredibly quiet as he didn't speak any English. He still wanted to take a picture with me, which I found endearing.

Also in the car were two sixty-odd-year-old retired firefighters from Sydney, Australia. We had a great time sharing our stories- they're old buddies who have been traveling for 5 1/2 weeks and their trip is just about to come to an end. I also met a couple traveling from South Carolina a couple of cars down... go figure-- the guy was an Aggie and his best friend is Governor Rick Perry.

Let's just say I kept my trap shut. The wife of the couple was incredibly disconcerted that I was traveling by myself... it was like looking your mother in the face and telling her "I'll be OK." That's all I could say.

Arrived in Hanoi at 4am, took a cab to the airport, and shared a table with a bejeweled Vietnamese woman as we slurped our Pho at 6am. The one hour flight to Danang cut off a whole day's worth of bus or train time, and was a solution for a gal who didn't know what the hell she would do by arriving in Hanoi at 4am! Straight to the airport with me, I figured.

Danang wasn't my destination of choice, so I took a 2 hour local bus to Hue. I shared a cab from the airport with a sweet French couple- we had a hell of a time navigating the people who swarmed us when we got out of our cab at the bus station. About five people attacked us, pulling us towards the ticket office. We shrugged them off, especially one lady with painted on eyebrows... only to later realize that we were destined for her bus, and the reason we were getting swarmed was that the bus was leaving RIGHT THAT SECOND. Still, having a ton of people run at you is NOT my idea of customer service. I'm used to the American model, you know, where you walk into Home Depot and have to fake a heart attack to get someone to tell you where the wood putty is.

But we made it to Hue, and I misread the map and mistook the bus station I arrived at for one that was 200 meters away from my hotel area. I wanted to walk after so much sitting and transportation... so I walked about 3km through a blue collar commercial part of town (motorcycle repair shops, etc) as kids on bicycles tried to speak English to me. I think really they were just trying to get me to repeat the dirty Vietnamese phrases they kept feeding me.

Found my hotel, and proceeded to the Hue Citadel. It's a 200 year old building complex constructed by one of many Emperors of I believe the Nguyen clan. I didn't expect it to be so gorgeous- it reminded me of palaces you'd see in Japan, and I didn't expect to see anything like this in Vietnam. But Hue otherwise was just another town... and I decided to take a bus to Hoi An today.

Here I am in Hoi An- the tailoring capital of the world! You can have anything made, and people will follow you down the street to hawk their tailoring skills to you. "Miss, you come get dress made?"

But none of them have followed me everwhere... long time. Then again, I've been here five hours. Plenty of time left.

Only real disappointment right now is that it's been raining, and will continue to rain for a few days. I've heard our next destination, Nha Trang, is flooding, so we'll have to look into that before we move on. Roni and Ania will be here tomorrow, and there's some ruins outside of town to explore. They're called "My Son"- It's to Vietnam what Angkor Wat is to Cambodia. Hope to make it there, though in the rain, I don't know how Indiana Jones-like I'll feel.

That's it for now... I think I've caught everyone up pretty well. Long time!

 

Birthday in Vietnam

So those of you who read my last post know that I had a bad week. All that crying at 4AM made for one hour of sleep, and the next day we were set to travel out to Cat Ba island (about 5 hours away)- the gateway to Halong Bay.

I was so hungover and destroyed from being so upset that I was pretty sure all my inner organs were going to launch themselves out of my mouth during the whole trip... but I made it, unscathed.

We got into Cat Ba, a sleepy resort town that clearly is not in full high-season swing. We hiked up a huge hill to be rewarded with cheap (and I mean, camping-style cheap) beach bungalows on an otherwise deserted beach. I essentially ate squid for dinner and breakfast since it was the only thing that looked good on the menu, and passed out by seven pm.

I woke up to the sound of the ocean on my birthday. That itself is an amazing gift. As I was trying to wrap my head and my heart around the last 48 hours, I looked down at the floor of my private bungalow. Roni had slipped birthday cards under my door- I almost lost it completely reading birthday wishes from friends back home that Roni had carried with her for the last month. (Thanks Roni, and thanks you guys for the wishes. It warmed my heart but gave me some serious homesickness too).

We got out of the bungalows in search of a non-squid meal and also booked a private boat tour of the neighboring bay. We sunned ourselves on the roof of the boat- Ania, Roni, Mac, and myself, and ended up on the infamous MONKEY ISLAND. Roni's posted about the island already... you should check out what she wrote... but, essentially, your boat edges up to the sand, drops a rickety plank to walk down, and you're there on a small island that is basically jagged, razor sharp rocks covered by scrub trees, surrounded by sand. AND THE MONKEYS HAVE TAKEN OVER. We hiked for a bit through some insane trails looking for monkeys (langurs, to be specific)- and had about given up when we spotted at least ten on a neighboring escarpment. We scampered over there, but a couple had already been photographing the monkeys and the monkeys were getting aggressive. Before we knew it, we were surrounded by angry monkeys.

What do you do when you're surrounded by monkeys??? One had stolen Ania's bottle of water and had pierced it with their fangs... a warning, I'm sure, of what they'd like to do to Mac's ankles (one was pulling and sucking on his sock at this point). A baby monkey was trying to rip off Ania's bracelet, one was scratching at my leg, and another was in a tree trying to grab Mac from behind. Roni was sandwiched between Mac and myself, and we were all making insane high pitched noises. Suddenly, a guide on the island yelled "DON'T SHOW THEM YOUR TEETH!!!"

Now, when you're laughing-slash-screaming, not showing your teeth is pretty difficult if not a bit ridiculous.

We scampered away from the monkeys... only after one HUGE angry one started hissing at us along with the baby that was once attached to her belly. If it hadn't been for that guide who started throwing peanuts at the monkeys to distract them, I might be writing to you from a rabies clinic.

Close brush up with monkeys.

We scrambled down to the beach, panting and looking at eachother in horror and excitement. WHAT HAD JUUUUSST HAPPENED? We went for a swim, but were warned by a guide to be sure to leave in the next twenty minutes, because, you see, the monkeys will come down and steal your stuff and run away into the razor sharp rocky jungle.

Monkeys rule the island, for sure. I was almost certain that the abandoned looking buildings on the island were completely ruled by the monkeys, and humans could only visit during the day as at night, these 30 rogue monkeys (the last in the region) would take over everything and kill at will. MONKEY ATTACK! What a birthday to remember.

Then we headed into town, and had massages in a bar while we drank pina coladas. All in all, boat cruise, monkeys, massage, pina colada... I'd say it was a very successful birthday. Oh, and Roni and Ania surprised me with birthday cake on the boat cruise back to the bay! Amazing.

I'm feeling a lot of love from everyone right now, and my spirits are picking up. We're headed to Halong Bay tomorrow, and since we're joining a group tour, we're going back to Monkey Island for an hour.

I think I'll stick to the beach.

xo

a

I hate Laos. I really mean it.

We're leaving Laos in just three days, and it couldn't come any sooner. I don't have very many good things to say about this country right now...we've had at least one horrible instance of being scammed in every city we went to. Sure, we met some great locals who were sweet and witty, but when it came to accomodation and further travels, we were royally screwed and feel like we've been fighting for decent treatment and living standards ever since we arrived. We already expected to pay a premium as foreigners- it's no secret that we're charged ten times more than locals for the same things- but we know that for certain things where we paid good money and were promised certain things, we were blatantly lied to and basically punished for hours. So to give you all a window into what traveling through Laos has been like and the skills we've achieved along the way, I've assembled some handy pointers for anyone who wants to travel here.

 

1) Always stay on your toes.

The van you and your friends pitched in for will ultimately show up late, with no room but the roof for your thirty pounds of precious possessions. When the driver insists it can sit on the roof without any tie downs, climb on top of the van yourself to clip your backpack to the bars lining the van's sides because your demand for tie downs is being met with blank stares and shakes of the head. He certainly isn't going to do a damn thing about it, and he already has your money. Don't complain when you crawl inside and have to sit on your friend's lap until you reach the bus station, since this van seating nine has thirteen people and their bags shoved in. Also, try to get seats in the front, or you'll spend the entire van ride thinking of how you'd escape from the prison like vehicle should it plunge off of one of the many cliffs on your drive. And don't cry when your driver runs over a dog.

 

2) Pay attention to who you give your money to, and never let tthat person out of your sight.

'When you book a van to the bus station and are told to show up at 1:30pm for a tuk tuk ride to the station (stations are always out of town, so you pay a premium to get a ticket arranged for you but you get free transport to the station), chances are the man whom you gave your money to will not be there at 1:30. There will be no sign of him whatsoever, and your prepaid bus is in thirty minutes and the station is fifteen away. Thing is, this man has your money- even if you arranged your own transportation to the bus station to make the bus ride (because that free ride was included), you'd be out money. Be nice to the man in the business next door and ask him to please help you find the man that you gave your money to, because you don't want to miss your bus. If you're lucky (and you give him sad puppy dog eyes with a "Please, we just don't know what to do"), he will go fetch your "travel agent"who was down by the river having beers. Your agent smiles with a "ha, they found me" face and plays up the fact that he just lost track of time although he speaks no English and by this point you have no reason to believe him since you booked the ticket just two hours ago, so how could he forget this set time. When he takes you to the bus station, keep him in sight at all times, because he''ll leave you at the station without a bus ticket (just point at a bus, drop your bags, and drive away). When you demand a ticket (pretty much blockading his vehicle as he's trying to drive away), he'll hop out and introduce you to the bus driver who will tell you "It's ok." For a second you may think, man, maybe I overreacted. Things just run differently here! One person needs a ticket, another person doesn't. Each experience is different, there are no set standards for how to do things. Makes for some embarrassing moments, and gee, I must look pushy! I should relax. Oh well.

But then you realize it's a good thing you threw a fit, because about an hour into the ride in the countryside, someone will walk up to you demanding a ticket, at which point you must point authoritatively at the bus driver and then ignore his further requests for a paper ticket. Hiding behind your sunglasses and looking very determined is a handy skill, especially when you're in the middle of nowhere.

 

And if you booked a hotel online in advance, try and write down your booking fee and deposit info on a piece of scrap paper, because of course they'll have no record of the fact that you prepaid anything by the time you check out of your depressing accomodations where there are no locks on the doors and the night guard falls asleep at 3am every night. (At least you can sneak free waters from the front desk).

 

3) Don't let them overcrowd your vehicle.

This is the most often broken rule, as most buses oversell seats, and van drivers will make their girlfriends sit on top of your laps for five hour rides if you don't tell them "No" firmly. It's also well known that on the slow boats down the Mekong on the border, boat drivers will cram 120 people onto boats made for 70. So back to the van driver- chances are his girlfriend will also make your backpack fly out of the vehicle before it starts--- be sure you have your eye on whether or not your bag sits near a door. And don't be surprised when the empty bus you were on for three hours suddenly stops to let on about twenty more people than it can seat, turning the tops of your backpacks (which are out of your sight of course) into seats for school children who sit four to a two person seat. Cages of chickens, bamboo poles, sacks of rice will also make their way onto your bus. When you finally get off and remove your sunglasses, you'll have an impressive outline of dirt on your face.

 

4) Always get a receipt.

Hey guys! 'We're tired of these cramped buses and squished van rides with total strangers. Let's take over a van altogether and book up all the seats with our friends! Sounds good, right? If we're going to be miserable, we can be miserable together! Let's book it through our hotel. Friendly guy at the desk! We negotiated a good deal. And we got receipts for eleven people showing we paid. (Getting a receipt isn't enough- make sure they write PAID on it too. We learned that!) Sure enough, we show up to the van station and they're claiming two people haven't paid. "But we have eleven receipts that all say paid!" "No, two people haven't paid". But we have receipts! And so it continues, back and forth and back and forth, all the way down to asking him if he remembers each person who paid individually and breaking things down one receipt at a time. (And I had to demand a receipt for myself for this ride, even. Good thing I did) Even though he'll eventually say YES, he remembers those people paying, he'll still revert to claiming that two people haven't paid. It's an unbelievable face-palm, blood pressure raising incident. One hour later, after multiple threats to call the police, someone will give in, and your trip will finally start. Which leads me to...

 

5) Stand your ground. Know they're out to rip you off, and the price will come down.

Let's say you've heard about a lovely waterfall outside of town. It's only 10km away, and should only take about a 10 minute ride in a tuk tuk. And you're bringing friends, so that means more money for a driver! So, why does the tuk tuk driver want more per person to get you out of town and back for an hour than it costs for a bus ride to another city over several hours? Stand your ground, and bargain him down. Suddenly 120,000 kip per person is 30,000 kip per person, as it should be. And only pay when he's returned you to town- you don't want to be stranded at the waterfall, now do you?

 

6) Standards of cleanliness will always differ, but some things are unacceptable.

I'm used to bugs, thanks to a good ol' Texas upbringing. And I'm used to grime, thanks to formative years spent in New York City. Ants in the shower? Standard. Dust pouring in through the open window? Expected. Smog everywhere due to no emissions capping? Ok, makes me appreciate the lemon buster campaigns in the States. But when you hear about bedbugs and cockroaches everywhere and see mold growing all over your bathroom, you should make an effort of checking the mattresses and asking for the upstairs rooms. (Less flooding risks, less cockroaches.) And the kitschy popular bars in town that serve drinks in plastic pails (buckets) suitable for a kid's sandcastle building? Don't be surprised to hear that they wash them out each night in the river before reusing them the next day. Yep, that same river that you just tubed down for hours that everyone uses as a toilet. Oh, and that hot water that the desk attendant said is working? It doesn't. And he'll tell you to your face "Yes it does" when you say "It's not working."

 

7) Ask lots of questions.

Ooh, a trek involving cycling up to a hilltribe village? Sounds lovely. After all these long bus rides, it would feel good to get the ol' bones moving again. Lo and behold, it turns into the trek from Hell. Seems when the guide mentioned it was hard, we should've asked if the trails we were riding on were downright impossible to bike on. (Many vehicles couldn't even pass on them). And when the trek literature mentions witnessing the people of the tribe weaving in their houses and that you get to have lunch with the chief, you should've asked if this was really going to happen or if you were really just visiting a refugee camp where the people there had no clean, untattered clothes to wear much less a loom to spin something on. Threatening you want your money back and saying over and over again "this is bullshit" may actually get you somewhere, but you'll still have to walk your bike through snake territory for at least two hours uphill because your guide's cell phone has of course died, and the tuk tuk can't cross the raging creek you had to walk your bike over ages ago at the start of your trip.

 

8) Imagine the worst case scenario, even after staying on your toes, asking lots of questions, and getting a receipt. Because the truthful scenario will always be worse.

Last night I had the worst traveling experience of my life. I have a terrible head cold, and we were scheduled to take an overnight bus from Vientiane to Luang Prabang. Since I was sick, Roni booked the ticket, and this is a dramatic reinactment of the exchange between her and the travel agent:

Roni: "Ok, so do you have a sleeper bus to Luang Prabang?"

Lady: "No, only VIP. But VIP very good- very fast." **Note- VIP buses are a class of bus that has lots of room to spread out, even if the chairs don't fully recline**

Roni: "So it makes no stops?"

Lady: "No stops. Straight to Luang Prabang."

Roni: "No stops?"

Lady: "No stops."

Roni: "Is there a toilet on the bus?"

Lady: "Yes, a toilet."

Roni: "You're sure there's a toilet?"

Lady: "Yes."

 

So of course, we pay more than we've paid so far for any bus or van ride to be on an overcrowded vehicle (people sitting on plastic stools in the aisles and kids sleeping on their parents laps) with no working bathroom. Even if there was a bathroom, there would've been no way of reaching it as the aisles were full of barnyard animals and other people sitting on stools. VIP my ass, unless you can say that there were more Very Important People than there were seats. And of course, it stopped at least five times- one of the stops was for an entire hour at one A.M. in a deserted town for a meal. Several pee breaks were made where people just got off the bus and walked out into the jungle, and the driver himself frequently pulled over where there was no shoulder to get out to pee. Seems he had a bladder issue. Also, fog rolled in through the mountains, making for some close calls with other buses around tight corners thanks to no visibility.

 

Which brings me to number 9:

9) Be prepared to be lied to, and just accept the fact that some places you visit will be nothing like you had anticipated. Let it give you thicker skin, and move on to greener pastures.

 

and number 10:

10) Be honest about your experience in the hopes that other people won't have the same. My advice: steer clear of Laos. It was famed to be an unspoiled Thailand full of people so honest that they'd chase you down the street to give you your change you left behind. I'm convinced most of the people I've met would sell off their own mother to make a few thousand extra. Alright. I'm done. No wait, one more time. Laos, you really let me down. I'm sorry we screwed you over so badly in the 60's but I had nothing to do with that. I just wanted to love you. I really did, but you won't let me.

Off to Vietnam soon, where we've been told to say we're Canadian... I think we'll take that advice, since up until 1995 the American War Museum was actually called the American War Crimes Museum. (We call it the Vietnam War, they call it the American War.) Oooh, Toronto is lovely this time of yeeeear!

Oh, Laos.

Not really feeling the blog post right now, but just wanted to catch people up a bit. We haven't caught a drop of rain from the typhoon slamming Asia, and it seems like it's missing Vietnam so our plans to arrive in Hanoi by Oct. 29th are still on. We're taking it easy in the capital city of Vientiane- it's a big small town with a French flair, and this weekend we're catching a festival marking the end of Buddhist Lent. Monks have been building small boats (about 10 feet long)  out of bamboo and wood- they'll be raced down the river. Candles will be floated in banana leaf boats- it's said that if you launch your own boat, your troubles float down the river with it.

Laos has been a surprise in many ways... it's been more expensive than we thought, less honest than we had been told, and we're ready for some relaxation here for our last week in the country. You can bargain people down outrageously for almost anything--- a 150,000 kip per person ride to a cave can become just 40,000 kip if you stand your ground. But for me, so much negotiation can be exhausting- still, it's the way of the world here, and we're all thinking on our toes.

Much love to everyone back home. Oh, and I've been having issues uploading pictures- sorry I can't share things visually right now!

Hello, Luang Prabang.

After the van ride from Luang Nam Tha to Luang Prabang, I think I could be a professional bullrider. The ride took about six hours through broken, pot hole ridden roads and around death trap curves, and Roni and I were shoved into the last row of seats in a run down, packed to capacity van. Our luggage was tied to the top--- and each bump we hit (where I went airborne and gave a little yelp) I had to gaze behind us to make sure our backpacks hadn't flown out into the steep rainforest gulches below. I felt like I was living inside a pair of maracas on Salsa night. When I finally tumbled out of the van, I felt quite drunk, although we'd deprived ourselves of pretty much everything including water to prevent the need for bathroom breaks. Comfortable sounding, isn't it?

That said, we arrived in Luang Prabang a bit tired of all forms of transportation- I didn't want to see a van or a bicycle for a few days or I was gonna have to hurt someone. But I must say, this city is gorgeous. It's situated on a peninsula formed by the meeting of the Nam and Mekong rivers. This means the city is a fairly organized grid sandwiched between river promenades with casual cafes and bars lining the sides. Gorgeous guesthouses housing travelers willing to spend $50 a night for five star accomodation provide romantic home bases for exploring this very walkable city. (As for us, we moved out of the crap hole hostel with moldy bathroom walls and are staying the night in a clean, family run guesthouse costing us each about $4 for the night). Ancient Wats are around every corner (you have to check the map to see "Ok, is THIS one the big one? Or is THAT one the historic one from the 1600s?) Monks here are quite friendly, giving you a cheerful "Sa-ba-dee" (Hello) as you pass. I'm enjoying this chance to relax and wander... and the street food here is quite delicious.

We were told by many people not to expect great food here in Laos... but so far it's been a delicious mix of Thai and Chinese food with lots of great brothy soups, freshly grilled chicken and fish, and a heavy French influence with baguette sandwiches everywhere. Cafes and bakeries line the streets, along with pizza parlors, one Indian food restaurant, and a great wine bar that plays bossanova versions of Madonna songs. A-w-e-s-o-m-e. Last night we found our English friends (they had arrived later from Thailand after stopping off in hippie haven Pai)- and we had drinks at a gorgeous bar tucked away in an alley. Who would've thought that upon entering we'd see a full tropical garden, giant palapa structure, and a full sand volleyball court... My vodka sodas were a whopping $4 a piece, which is expensive for here, but sometimes you gotta put things into perspective.

Two things especially stand out to me in this city. First, there are two big markets that occur every day in town: the morning market and the night market. The morning market is an alley full of vegetable and fruit and meat vendors, most of which operate by spreading a tarp down and sorting out their lemongrass, chilis, cucumbers, bok choi, dill, and cilantro. Small food stands serve bowls of noodles and broth cooking over open fire wooden stoves; each bowl is made to order, and is garnished at the table with the usual suspects: sugar, chili sauce, fish sauce, mint, lettuce, beans, and limes. Giant sacks of rice- some white, some unprocessed dark grains, some other varieties I've never seen, stand at attention between veggie stalls. The night market is full of gorgeous scarves and handicrafts, and is set up on a main street every night, requiring quite a ballet of pop up tents and blankets for elaborate set ups. It's like this city is set up and broken down twice a day.

The second thing that stands out to me is that no one ever seems to be in a hurry. I'm not going to say that the locals seem like the happiest people on the planet, or this is the last Shangri-La... but there's a great rhythm to this city, and aside from the pushy tuk tuk drivers who assume because you're walking down the street you MUST need a ride, everything here is pretty peaceful. No wonder people usually stay another day...

Off to meet hte Brits for lunch. We'll probably head out together to the southern city of Vang Vieng tomorrow... it's known to be a bit of a party city-- I'll have to keep my liver in check.

Xo to you all.

-a

It can't all be sunshine and roses...

Today was a downright no good, very strange, not so fresh day. Let me just say we're all fine, just a wee bit sunburned (ok, I'm downright toasted...)

See... today was to be a trekking day to an Akha hill tribe village outside of Luang Nam Tha, Laos. We signed up for a biking tour- for about $35 it would be just the two of us and our guide riding bikes past rice paddies and farmland up to a infrequently visited hill tribe village settled by people who are Tibetan-Burmese in descent.

We rode past an elaborate staircase, similar to one outside Wat Doi Suthep in Chiang Mai, Thailand, and I asked our guide Pet if there was a Wat up there. He said yes, there was one from the 1600s- 1628 I believe, but Americans bombed it in the 1960's when we dropped 3 million tons of bombs on Laos.

Ok, just let that one sink in a bit.

We continued on our ride- Pet was an excellent guide, but we soon realized that we were in for more than we'd signed up for. We were to ride bikes for 20 kilometers- a little under 10 miles- up terrain that looked like a neverending 60 degree slope on the surface of Mars. For me, it's one thing to admit that I'm not as strong as I'd like to be to do a 10 mile uphill ride. But this was ridiculous- most of the terrain was pretty much impossible to ride (I flew off my bike at one point when it hit a six inch ravine) and we had to walk our bikes up hill after hill in the unforgiving sun.

 

So, by the time we reached the village we were hungry, exhausted, and me, well, I was pissed at the guy who sold us the tour. There was NOTHING fun about this style of bike riding--- uphill was beyond brutal with giant rocks in your path (like trying to ride on a dry creek bed or the world's worst cobblestone) and downhill was incredibly dangerous, with the bumps threatening to send you flying or at the very least guarantee that you'll be incapable of conceiving a child any time in the future.

We made it to the village... and while I have some interesting stories about the Akha people, I'm completely unsure personally how I feel about our visit.

 

We were greeted by a pack of screaming children- they were fascinated by us and let us take their picture. Pet told us that they only get outside visitors maybe once a month, and I'm sure they don't get two unaccompanied girls very often (much less one covered in tattoos). They followed us around in wild fascination as we walked past houses on stilts with livestock everywhere (pigs, baby pigs, chickens, and cows). But here's where I have to say that the further we walked into the village, I put my camera away because I felt I was witnessing the most abject poverty I've ever seen in my life. Trash littered the pathways, some children wore rags barely covering their bodies, and old women peered out at us with stone cold faces. My first inclination was to leave, as I didn't understand how I felt about the whole situation.

Was I really bringing money into the village thanks to the ecotourism popular in the region? Or did I get duped into a terribly uncomfortable ride through otherwise idyllic countryside to gawk at all the world's have-nots? Was the food lying in front of me for our lunch more than they'd eaten all week? I didn't know what to think, what to do. Suddenly I was upstairs in a house shared by many families that was about half the size of my home in Austin. We ate with the son of the second chief (both the second and first chief were harvesting rice). He was twenty one, with one child who was sleeping peacefully on a blanket on the floor. He was wearing a strange Dolce & Gabbana knockoff shirt while barebreasted women with babies on their backs walked to and fro outside. We were asked the following expected questions, translated through Pet who understands a little of their language: "How old are you, and are you married?" Basically, what was our status in our culture?

We found out the following about the Akha people. They're animists, and believe in the spirits of their ancestors (whom they ask for help and advice) and in bad spirits of the water and the jungle. They move their entire village every 10-15 years to find better soil for planting rice after their plots are exhausted. Courting is very strict, but interestingly not conservative in the least- there is a designated "flirting place" where boys and girls go to meet each other and talk. When they're of the age to marry, say 18 for boys and 16 for girls, they go into "Love houses" (crazy hillside homes built on stilts by the boys when they turn 16) and stay the night to see if they're a "good match". Apparently pregnancy before marraige is a good sign that the couple is a good match.

The following practice is now illegal... but fifteen years ago and earlier, if twins were born to a couple in the village, it was considered to be a sign of terrible bad luck for everyone. The twins were taken away from their mother and father and the townspeople would kill the babies by smothering them with ash. The parents of the babies were then forced out of the village into the jungle for at least three months.

A woman in the room next to us had just given birth in that house within the last week. She lay sleeping with a tiny newborn on her chest.

I'm sure she's very glad she didn't have twins.

They also have a festival every September involving their "swing"--- a pole structure with a rope that is their way of communicating with ancestral spirits. If any non-tribe members touch the swing during any time other than the festival, a pig or cow must be sacrificed to appease the spirits who will be angry at the village.

I asked about all the stray dogs in the village- if they were used for protection against wild animals for all their livestock (which, by the way, are not penned at all, and run through the village as they please). They said yes, they used to have problems with leopards and tigers, but not anymore. Seems Chinese poachers (we're only about 30km from the Chinese border) would come to town looking for precious tiger bones, which could be used for male virility potions. They'd offer over one million kip for these bones--- that's about $125 US dollars, and so the tribe people would hunt and kill the tigers. There are but a few guns in the village, as the Lao government police came and took all their guns away. But some villagers went into the jungle to hide with their weapons, so a few illegal guns remain for hunting.

We left and tried our best to retrace our tracks, but the terrain was too unforgiving, and my temper was rising. This was an unacceptable trek to say the least, so we asked to be picked up and taken back to the village. The whole ordeal of just getting to a point where a vehicle could actually reach us to be picked up took about an hour, and the ride back into town from there took over thirty minutes.

I keep thinking about the village, wondering if I have a perception problem. So what if the kids are covered in mud (and even a little blood here and there)... they're kids. So what if they lack access to certain comforts and social programs that we take for granted (giving birth with doctors assisting, running water). I think the problem is whether I feel comfortable as an outsider looking in, and that's a personal issue having nothing to do with the way these people have been living for centuries. I'll need to spend some time with this one, and I may not even get an answer.

So here we are, exhausted and barely able to sit. But hey, I saw some beautiful countryside, gave myself a dilemma to ponder (and I need to research hilltribe people and the ways they're treated by the Laotian government), and last night, well, I tried chicken feet. Survey says: disgusting.

 

Tomorrow: Luang Prabang. I'm ready for a peaceful city.

Misty Mountain Hop meets Over The Hills And Far Away

Yep, I had to break out a Led Zeppelin reference to try and describe what the last few days have been like. And for the record, my inner scaredy cat has forever been banished.

We arrived in Chiang Mai from Sukhothai about four days ago, though I haven't been wearing a watch or using a cell phone so the days are really blending together beautifully...

Chiang Mai is a big small town in northern Thailand, and was its own autonomous state up until about the 1930s. Hill tribes common in this latitude live in the forests in the hills, while the city below is built citadel style with crumbling walls and a moat. Monks wrapped in saffron amble down the streets, gilded Wats are on every corner, and different street markets pop up on weekends turning tiny streets into bustling parties and social events.

A friend of ours had been to Chiang Mai and highly recommended the Wat Doi Suthep- an ancient mountain top temple that is a top destination not just for whiteys like myself but for Thais making religious pilgrimages. The guidebook stated the Wat was constructed in honor of a famous hermit who lived on the mountain for many years and boasts a beautiful view of the city of Chiang Mai below. The guidebook ALSO stated that the cheapest way to the top of the mountain was to rent a motorbike. So, I did.

With Roni as my back-of-the-bike eye candy, we moto-ed about 15km out of the city (Thai style, of course... zipping past tuk-tuks and vans behind other moto drivers) and up a winding road to Doi Suthep. We stopped along the way at a popular shrine to light incense, lay flowers, and attach gold-leaf to a Buddha image to wish for good luck on our journey. Doi Suthep itself is a gorgeous temple, and the view is endless. Most of all, the lush jungle surrounding it produces blankets of mist which drift down to the city below, creating a gorgeous backdrop for a man-made devotional space.

Riding down the mountain (with my brakes on the whole time) was a delicious way to end the adventure. Of course I got us slightly lost driving back to return the moto---- I was admittedly having a bit too much fun seeing the town with 125ccs of power at my fingertips.

The next day we went on an overnight jungle trek with a bunch of great folks from our hostel. Must say we've made some friends for life... and we can say we climbed a mountain. No one knew just how challenging the trek would be... after 3.5 hours of straight uphill through the jungle (stepping in tracks laid by elephants up steep hills-- makes for good steps, really)- we arrived at a Burmese refugee village where we stayed the night. I should use the world 'refugee' lightly- these folks lived sparingly but have turned their remote location into a tourist trekking destination. But through our guide nicknamed "Johnny Walker", we learned this interesting nugget: refugees and hill tribe people are required to live above a certain altitude by the Thai government, and they rarely like to come down to the cities because they fear the police. I asked if they were considered to be illegal, but that isn't the case--- it's more like a strange "understanding" between the government and the displaced people of Burma.

Johnny Walker cooked us a delicious meal which we shared sitting on woven mats in our bamboo hut sleeping quarters. Later we sat under the stars and played logic and card games by candlelight. I pointed out the line of the Milky Way to the British and Dutch travelers in our group- they'd never seen it before. They also freaked a bit when I showed them that the moon was setting-- they didn't know such a thing could happen. Amazing the things you can take for granted that others never get to see, and amazing to think what they've seen and take for granted that I still haven't experienced. That's what travel is about... sharing experiences. I picked their brains about their travels in India, the jobs they were able to leave back in England, what college is like in Amsterdam. All of them shared a common thread: they're traveling for six months to a year, and it's considered perfectly normal by their work and their family to do so. Unbelievable. I couldn't help but think of all the times I was asked "Why?" when I mentioned I was going traveling for over two months. "Two months? That's so long! Why?" Try one year. Or two years.

Why is it that travel is not encouraged in the US? Why do we work so hard for two weeks vacation and have to quit our jobs just to take a decent leave? I also thought about how the most well traveled Americans are usually in the military, and our military has a base in pretty much every country of the world. How different could our politics be, and the way the world views us if we were all a bit more well traveled? If we understood a country through experiencing its people, not through military strongholds? As Mark Twain said, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." I think our country is suffering from a bit of the latter to say the least when it comes to foreign policy... but this blog entry really isn't enough space to tackle the subject.

We woke after very little sleep that night in the jungle--- seems we heard things scurrying around all night long (I had to help kill a spider for some scared Brits...), and the chickens decided to engage in call-and-response games starting at 2am. I imagined them saying "Hey, whatcha doin over there?" "Nuthin, whatcha doin' over THERE?" "Nuthin"... like the vultures in the cartoon classic "Jungle Book". We ate breakfast in a circle on the rickety bamboo balcony jutting out over a steep hillside and watched the mist roll in from where we watched the moon set the night before. We donned our muddy hiking boots and skirted rice fields to begin a two hour steep descent to a twenty foot waterfall, whitewater rafting trip, and bamboo rafting trip before heading back to Chiang Mai. I thought: my first white water rafting experience, just hours after driving a motorcycle through the streets of a Thai city, riding an elephant (oh yeah, we did that too, but it was kinda weird), and the hardest, most satisfying hike of my life. You could say we've done a lot. And I have my Texas upbringing to thank for feeling like a bit of a hero to some of the people in our group... not only did I vanquish the evil spider in our sleeping area when both boys and girls were screaming themselves into a panic, but I also scooped up a frog out of our whitewater raft when the men in front were too scared to touch it. I guess not everyone catches lizards and bugs when they're a kid...

And now I'm typing this from the city of Luang Nam Tha in Laos... we crossed the border this morning and made our way through the mountains by van. Side note: in case you haven't heard of Laos, it's a beautiful country that only opened up to western tourism in the last fifteen years. Before that, the US dropped more tons of bombs on it during the Indo-China conflict than we dropped on Germany and Japan during the entirety of World War II. Yet many people, myself included, have never been taught where Laos is, much less been told about CIA operations here which left behind unmarked landmines in rural areas that are still being slowly unearthed and detonated to this day. Yet do they have any resentment towards the US? Not at all. In fact, we've been told the people here are more likely to chase you down with your change. Or to buy you a beer, which happened to me today.

Time passes slowly here... in the best way possible. Patience is key, as sometimes you don't understand why the tuk tuk is stopping only to realize it's because we're sharing a ride with a 70 year old woman and her street food stall ingredients. Once we settled in to this sleepy northern town inside a protected nature park, I walked around the small (and I mean small) city looking for something to eat. I was instantly invited by a group of men to share a Beer Lao (much more delicious than Thailand's Chang beer, which to me is worse than Lone Star). They wanted to know if I was a boxer- apparently only boxers have tattoos on the arms like mine. My tattoos are a great entry point of conversation- people are fascinated by them, and often come up to me and gently run a finger down my arm. These men were hilarious, sharing a beer and some food during a break in their workday. Sounds like I should just start telling people I'm a Thai boxer. Several laughs later, I gave my favorite guy a postcard of Austin with my address on it. I can only hope I'll get something in the mail.

Here's to Northern Thailand, and now here's to Laos. Here's to feeling fearless, and to Johnny Walker's version of a classic which he sang as we cut through the jungle:

"No woman no cry... no whiskey I die!!!! Oh my Buddha."

See ya, scaredy cat.

Bicycles, Buddhas, Wats and Bahts

Today we woke up at the crack of dawn to do some room yoga in our tiny but sufficient bungalow on stilts tucked in a back alley of Sukhothai. After having some street coffee and a thirty cent breakfast of rice soup and pork (me) and fried pork and rice in a banana leaf (Roni) we hopped on an open air bus (really a glorified pick up truck with closed in sides) to journey from New Sukhothai (a hopping city) to Old Sukhothai (ruins site).

Essentially, things are completely awesome over here.

We rented bikes for $1 for the day and rode about 4 miles total around ruins (which we had to ourselves for the most part). Part of the ride included cycling up through the hills to a hillside Wat (temple) with a twenty foot seated Buddha statue at the top peering over the city below. The hike up took our breath away (literally) and I couldn't help but think of Buddha's statement "All I teach is suffering and the end of suffering." Well, we suffered up the hill to get to the amazing temple, and once we were up there, we were rewarded with tranquility, stillness, and beauty.

Finally my body is feeling stretched out, active, and ready for this trip. I get so disheartened by sitting still for too long... tomorrow we do have a six hour trip up to Chiang Mai, but we'll stay there for a few days and it promises to be fantastic. Hope to have time to do some updates more than just "Here we are. We did this." I'm ready to reflect, to enjoy, and to commit to memory.

Love from over here.

Escape from Bangkok

I've already been made fun of by a street vendor for choosing to eat something that was honestly waaaaaaay too hot for me. Such is life in a world of pointing at what you want to eat without fully knowing what you're about to consume. Is that sweet, or savory? Mild, or spicy? Sometimes you just have to follow your nose. She laughed and laughed and yelled "Hot! Hot! Hot!" at me down the street and chattered to the vendor stalls next to her about my choice of food... some sort of reddish curry with finely chopped meat. H-O-T. But good.

Officially we've escaped from Bangkok, which I can say I don't have a love for. It's  a hectic city, with a lot of hustle and lots of air pollution. The people of Bangkok are incredibly friendly, and from getting a $6 one hour Thai massage to meeting and chatting with people over coffee at a street stall, I can't really complain. But a 7 hour bus ride out of Bangkok (costing $10 and including lunch and a snack)- we're in Sukhothai, where I apparently make unwise dinner choices much to the pleasure of the locals. I can't say enough how great the Thai government buses are. Not only is the staff friendly and helpful but you have so many perks for such a cheap ticket price. And now, we've escaped a concrete jungle for rice paddies and mountain views.

Tomorrow we'll visit "old" Sukhothai, the ancient capital of Siam. Sukhothai is to Thailand what Angkor Wat is to Cambodia--- we'll be seeing some beautiful stone ruins in an impressive ancient city. This is right up my alley... unlike red curry, apparently.

You live and you learn. Showing up is the hardest part, right?

Hello, Bangkok.

There's nothing quite like getting your morning coffee in a Bangkok side alley and sitting alongside the locals as they sip their strong, sweet cups. Stray cats and scrappy dogs are abound, and right now a strange songbird in a cage sings outside the open air internet cafe as I report to you all: we made it.

Well, after 30+ hours of traveling we're waking up in Bangkok. Just sent out a quick "I'm alive" message to family, and haven't really had time to reflect on where I am just yet. It's like the shock you feel during a surprise party--- being stuck on three planes for so many hours and then walking down the notorious backpacker street Khao San Road was like waking up in someone else's life, but it's mine. And the attendees to the party are people just like you- curious, willing to travel, or maybe just liking a cheap thrill- and then there are the locals, the vendors, the street walkers, the tuk tuk drivers who want to convince you that their tuk tuk is the best.

There's a lot of hustle in this town, and we'll be spending today getting a massage, visiting Chinatown's markets, and taking it easy. We actually head out of Bangkok early tomorrow for the northern city of Sukothai, which was the ancient capital for many hundreds of years before it moved south to Ayutthaya (another ancient city near Bangkok). Let the ancient city exploring begin. We definitely won't be missing Khao San's booming techno remixes of popular US songs from 3 years ago when we're waking up in a peaceful, holy place.

I suppose I'm realizing that I'm not much of a city person lately.

So, on to Sukothai tomorrow, and I'm just happy to be somewhere that I can stretch my legs. A few side stories on the plane travel--- our flight from Salt Lake City to Tokyo was filled with Mormon men and women around the age of 18 leaving for their mission. Apparently Tokyo is a popular destination--- why Tokyo is the place to find converts to a religion that is so young compared to the spiritual practices that exist in Japan--- I don't know. And as an example of just how small the world is--- the bartender from Eastside Showroom and Shangrila was on our flight from Tokyo to Bangkok. Small small world. I'm just waiting to see who else we run into...

Dinner tonight with one of Roni's friends who lives in Bangkok. Apparently we're eating Mexican food (free margaritas). Don't worry-I'll be careful. I don't think the street food will do me in... but the refried beans at a Thai Mexican food restaurant just might.

Back to basics- "Point It" book

I mentioned the Point It book in my last post. People, this book is fascinating. It's essentially a collection of images, in a pocket-sized book, arranged by category: food, hotel, transport, shopping, leisure & sport, and help (medical). In other words, it's a visual traveler's language, aimed at taking the guess work (and super awkward moments) out of traveling where you don't read or speak the language. I think I'll add some extra pictures in the back of the Irrawaddy dolphin and of Anthony Bourdain-- two animals currently living in Southeast Asia that we'd like to hunt down. But I love flipping through this book- it's a fascinating, well curated display of everything under the sun. The book's preface reads: "This passport-sized assistant is used not only by tourists but also by UN peacekeeping forces, Olympic athletes and speech therapists." Here are some images for you to enjoy.

I love the authoritative finger point from a man in a suit. I want... that 1/4 of a chicken!!

Yes, I would like the shoulder round with ginger and curry, grilled please. Or, sous-vide?

Me want pineapple!

This one is incredibly practical, with mosquito netting shown and a window with a screen as well as computer terminals, currency exchange, voltage converters, and an ATM machine.

Here's important accommodation stuff- and I love that a picture of breakfast is shown along with a room key- "Does this room include breakfast?"

I think this one is just priceless. Why yes, how can I find an acrobatics performance?

Let's hope I never have to use this part.

Alright, I could post endless pictures from this book- clearly I'm a fan. This is just skimming the surface- from stock photography of a pregnant woman to a campfire to a jellyfish in the water... there's just so much to offer in this book. Two thumbs WAY up.

Rain guards, memory cards, and malaria pills... oh my.

What gear is really necessary, and what gear is a Westerner's foolish attempt to 'take it all with you'?

I never said I was a great packer. I've been known to overpack and underpack, and I've paid for it as a result. I've dragged cumbersome luggage behind me over Dublin's cobblestone, carried heavy bags up sixth floor Barcelona walk-ups, been foiled by overhead compartments more than once trying to take my whole college life back with me over Christmas break. So, I've been strategically packing (and unpacking) for this trip over the last month as a prescription to my packing problem.

Roni's an expert, having backpacked through South America solo right before we first met- so she's been a great resource for needs versus wants. I'm skimping on the amount of clothing I'm taking as extra shirts and lightweight linen items will be much cheaper to purchase over there (especially since we'll just destroy all our clothing during this trip), but I'm making up for that space in my backpack by creating the mother of all first-aid kits. Ankle sprain? Mosquito bite? Splinter? Scrape? Burn? Fever? Stomach ache? Sore muscle? I've got you covered.

I also upgraded my camera to a Canon G11 and got an underwater housing, flash attachment, extra memory cards, and a memory card/USB uploader which allows for reading your memory card without hooking up your camera to a computer. This helps because I'm worried that certain computers in internet cafes may not 'read' my camera, so it's a way of foolproofing the situation. Also, to help with file management, I upgraded to a Flickr Pro account for only $25 for the year- this means I have unlimited file uploads of photos and video AND they store my originals online... so I can upload and erase my memory cards and not have to worry about file space. This will come in handy as my G11 takes great video, which eats up memory faster than my bulldog eats up his dinner.

Here's a picture of some of the items I've deemed completely necessary!

A few interesting things I'm taking include business cards to give to people I meet, postcards of Texas and Austin to give to people we do homestays with, and anti-malarial pills. Malaria is present in the regions where we're traveling, but we're not camping out, so the likelihood of actually contracting the disease isn't too huge. Malaria pills are a hot button topic for a lot of travelers- many different kinds of anti-malarials have horrible side effects (such as nightmares) and cost tons of money. Much like vaccine debates, many people think they are completely useless and are convinced the CDC is involved in a profiteering scheme with the prescription drug industry. (PLEASE... Let it be known that I don't hold that outlook).

Thankfully, where we're traveling, the anti-malarial recommended is called Doxycycline--- our full course of treatment will cost only about $10, which is amazing as our full course of treatment will be 100 days. Side effects are mild and include sun sensitivity, acid reflux, and yeast infections in women. Name sound familiar? Doxycycline is an antibiotic used for skin infections, and is often prescribed to treat acne (we'll have the clearest skin when we come home!). My take on the pills vs. no pills debate is that contracting malaria would kinda ruin my trip and ruin my life (it can last up to four years)...

I'm doing the treatment.

I also completely agree with the statement that "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of treatment". This means covering up after sunset and unfortunately using a mosquito spray with a ridiculously high percentage of DEET. I'm not using the hippie stuff here. I'm going 1950's bug spray all the way.

I've also updated my vaccinations thanks to consulting with a travel clinic. Other recommended medicines to travel with are Cipro (treats traveler's diarrhea) and another antibiotic to help with possible skin infections. I did sidestep some travel clinic advice--- they wanted me to get a $350 series of rabies shots. I think that's a little excessive, especially since if I was bitten by a rabid temple monkey I'd STILL need to get more rabies shots.

As tempting as it seems, I don't plan on teasing the monkeys.

I'm also super excited about a book called Point It that's coming along with us... It's so special that I think it deserves it's own post, so look for it tomorrow!

Robert Ballard- On charging forward into the unknown or unfamiliar

My dream job consists of sharing the fascinating things about the world with others to inspire them and promote conservation and exploration. Robert Ballard, ocean explorer, inventor, and educator is one of my heroes. His enthusiasm and 'sky's the limit' approach serve as a reminder that we can choose to educate ourselves about our planet to paradoxically find fulfillment AND still more unanswered questions... Posted below is a TED talk he gave in February 2008. The projects he mentions in the talk are going strong, and you can see some of the highlights from the Nautilus (deep sea rover) expeditions on their live cam and recorded video website.

Why go? Because it's there.

When I was a kid I spent hours flipping furiously through the stacks of National Geographics stuffed in a cabinet of my parents' wet bar. I would stretch out on our poo-brown carpet and stare at beautiful images of people and the places that held them, wondering about worlds far away from my suburban cul-de-sac and the beautiful ease that came with growing up there. Why was it that I was born here, in San Antonio, Texas, at this time, and in this body? Why was I not a Maori hunter, a Greek philosopher, or a slave that built the Sphinx? More importantly, why didn't I get to discover the lost city of Angkor or stumble upon Machu Picchu? I soaked up all I could of ancient and present times, thrilled to learn more about the world but also feeling a bit disappointed... it seemed that everything had been discovered already.

But I have always been a bit of a scaredy cat, so even if I'd been alive during a time at which I could've been a Magellan or a James Cook, I would've probably just wet myself thinking about sea monsters or jungle snakes.

I've been working on banishing my inner scaredy cat... and I think so far I'm winning. My desire to see the world with my own eyes fortunately outweighs the side of me that watched too many "Unsolved Mysteries" and "Dateline" episodes at a young age. Thankfully, despite being brought up with the very American-six-o'-clock-news philosophy that the world is a terribly dangerous place, I love to travel.  It's a spiritual experience to wake up witnessing the way people live outside your known world; to see similarities instead of differences in disparate cultures. To experience kindness from strangers when you are truly the foreigner (or let's face it, the perceived imperialist). It's enlightening- and addictive. And I've made a lifelong commitment to myself to see as much of this planet as I can before I, like the great kingdom of Angkor, become an element of the past.

Traveling through Southeast Asia- Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia- for 2.5 months is a decisive display of that commitment to myself. I'm so grateful to have a travel companion that is not only a close friend but a fellow travel lover. It's amazing to think that something that sounded at first like a crazy dream is now completely happening thanks to our diligence and faith in each other and in the importance of seeing the world firsthand.

This is our chronicle of our adventure... with the Irawaddy Dolphin serving as our own Patron Saint of Travel. And I think once I make it to the sleepy Mekong River town of Kratie, Cambodia to take a motorcycle and a boat out to try and find the damn snoutless porpoise, I can effectively say my scaredy cat was driven off and won't be returning.

I think there's still plenty left in this world to discover after all.

What the hell is an Irrawaddy Dolphin?

Check out this link for info from the World Wildlife Federation on this endangered species. Roni and I fell in love with it because it looks, well, really really stupid. It's native to Southeast Asia, and we're gonna try and find it.

I'm gonna miss this face.

IMG_0078_2
Originally uploaded by antoinette marie

Oh Miles. Will you ever forgive me for leaving you in search of a creature that looks weirder than you do?