bedridden

Well it's official. I'm stuck Resting Icing Compressing and Elevating while in Bali, the beautiful island getaway where surf sun and sand are the obvious of avenues to a good day. Unless you have a sprained ankle and infected wounds from your genius attempt at experience. So, in short: ankle = bad; Bali = good; bad ankle in Bali = really bad; good friends made who have an air conditioned apartment and Mac book and free internet = not too shabby. Plus they surf all the time anyway so I don't feel like I'm getting in the way. More time to blog! I was chatting with a friend today and went to refer to a link I had posted a few posts ago,  and couldn't remember the name of my own damned blog to type into the browser. Yes, I'm that bad. Good thing is that it's only because I've been having such a good time. So now I have ben able to skype my family a few times, a few friends, I realize it's time to get back on the blog wagon. Also, Andrea has started a blog of her very own (see my blog roll, upper right corner) and I realized while reading her first few posts how happy it made me to "hear" her voice. I should get back to mine, I thought. 

So here I am. In Bali. In a villa in Seminyak, which is adjacent to Kuta, southern Bali, Indonesia. Which, to my surprise (and Zach's, I was talking to him when I wikipedia'd Indonesia), has the 4th largest populous in the world. Crazy, right? Fun little factoid. Bali itself is not super over crowded, and I'm in probably the "worst" area, w/r/t crowds and tourists. However, I am experiencing a healthy shock to how western it feels. Everywhere you look there are white faces, and english spoken. Aussies EVERYWHERE. It's so close to Australia (it was 5 hours from Melbourne) that the Australians visit all the time, much like we visit Mexico. Well... we Californians, anyway. It's much cheaper, little to no restrictions on drinking, it's got great surf, it's beautiful culturally and aesthetically, plus the people are generally very friendly (although "don't fuck with the Indos" has been established as law). It's got the "no worries" vibe of down under, with less accountability. Why not visit? Or, as in my friends' cases, relocate. Plus Australia is on a huge break for Easter (2 weeks), making it more crowded and crazy than usual. Apparently.

We spent the first two nights in Kuta, doing the dance club and shopping portion of our trip, before we were to go see the rest of the island. On day three we went to Uluwatu, about an hour south of Kuta, where there is great surf and is much more quiet and mellow than hectic Kuta. This is the day where we decided to rent motorbikes, and I got into my accident. It's not only tough to be in a foreign country and be injured, but as I soon realized it is tough to be with travelers. We're all on vacation, having a good time, and when there is a man down situation, nobody wants to be slowed down. It felt pretty shitty to have the girl I was traveling with be annoyed with my disability, and not hide her disdain. I was told to get over it and deal with it, stop complaining (I wasn't), and effectively have been left behind. It's alright though, I am happier healing in peace and quiet than feeling both like an anchor and prima-donna. I wouldn't expect her to be burdened with my problem, but a little respect/consideration would be nice... anyway. If she and the girls we met up with are out of town then I can meet up with them when able to keep up the pace. The interesting thing is that the one I came with was terrible, while her friends we met up with were alright, but with my travel buddy acting as my ambassador... I'm pretty sure they think I'm someone else completely (along the lines of a drama queen and attention whore... her words). If nothing else, it's made me realize how spoiled I am with the amazing friends I have at home!!

The people I have met in Bali have been great. So don't worry, I'm in good hands. They live in the Villa Bunga, where we are staying. So cheap and really small, with a pool and spa and small staff who have all come to my rescue. Putu is a woman who works in the spa and has tended to my wounds with "chinese medicine." Her english isn't so good, so when she brought me the bottle and said it would help, and I asked what it was, she said, "Chinese medicine." Ok... but what does it do? "Chinese medicine." Is it for open wounds or just scars? Pain? Antiseptic? "Chinese medicine." haha. Ok. I'll take it. As for the boys, Kama is from Oahu, and Mario is from northern Spain. They both live here 6 months out of the year and export and build furniture to sell in their respective homelands. Sweet life... 6 months of surf and Bali then 6 months in other amazing places... I think I might need to look into this lifestyle. Anyone interested in starting up an import store? :) They've opened up their places and computers and connections to us all, gracious hosts and good "doctors" ... so even though the girls have gone on to Ubud, I have a better support system here in Seminyak. The girls will be back to being my bff's once I'm no longer a buzz kill. *yay* 

I'm disappointed I don't get to see the rest of the Island, but I think it will be alright towards the end. I'm here for a grand total of two weeks, and I think towards the end I will be alright to take a day trip or two. The whole thing can be seen in a day, technically. On Tuesday we will be going to Lombock, an Island right next to Bali that is much more rural and submerged in nature. There are going to be waves there next week, so the guys will take us to their place out there and we can tag along. Too easy! Back to Bali on Thursday, then back to Australia on Saturday... unless I decide to stay a bit longer. If my track record is any indicator of the future, then I reckon I'll still be here after they all leave. 

I will be able to post more now that I'm bed ridden and have access to a computer and free internet, but because I'm bed ridden and spending so much time on the computer I won't have as much to write about! But I think I owe it to myself and everyone who said they liked reading about my travels to write about some things in retrospect. I miss you all terribly and will spend the afternoon and evening picking out the best stories to tell you about from the last few months. 

xoxo

bali owie

I walked up to the teenager nursing her toddler, trailing blood behind me. I didn't waste time apologizing for the intrusion, or other such niceties I would usually undergo. The shock was beginning to wear off. I was putting all my energy in trying my best not to cry. "Do you have any water?" a voice that resembled mine sounded. Yoga breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth, audible, centering, fuck my leg hurts. Repeat. The teenager's dark eyes scanned me from chest to body to feet to body to neck in a way that I was familiar with, but the horrified expression was incongruous with the action I'd experienced before. My reflection in her grimace frightened me. Unnecessarily, I resorted to pantomime. "Do you," [point at her once per syllable] "have any disinfectant? Cleaner?" [Salt shaker, wax on, wax off.] She plucked the toddler off her tit and set him on the floor. He began to wince and cry, until he saw the mess I was in. Then he just gaped. I was in my bikini, and covered in dirt and leaves. My knee was an open wound, the blood from which coalesced into the gash on my ankle and foot. My shorts were dirty and ripped, matching my hands. I didn't know where the others were, but am pretty sure I didn't even think about it once. I just wanted to make sure there was no gangrene or amputation in my foreseeable future. I need to get clean.

The teenager disappeared behind the hut with child, and I hobbled to the steps in front of my 10$ a night beach front cottage, adjacent to the infinity pool here in Uluwatu, Indonesia. The silence was the exact opposite of calming. The wind mildly rustled the trees, in the same fashion I had remarked upon and admired only hours earlier. The waves crashed down the hill, the surf was up and the boys were out. I tried to deep breathe again. Closed my eyes. Calm. Bring calm within. It started to hurt more than anything I have ever experience in my entire 25 years of life - it exceeded my threshold tenfold. As the pain increased exponentially, the control I kept over my emotion was inversely proportional... tears, hysteria, the lot. Nobody around to be brave for. Mom and dad popped into my head, what they'd be doing to help, to calm me down, to fix the problem. While it wasn't a choice, it didn't help things at all. This really sucks.

The girl came back with a pail of boiling water, a roll of toilet paper, and some limes. Not exactly mom and dad's remedy for a skinned knee, but I knew it would help. My friends came back within a short time with salt and iodine, and a handful of small sized band aids... it was all they could find. OF COURSE I had to leave all my first-aid (from when I fell in Siem Reap) back in Australia, that stupid space wasting bag I've lugged around since November. Of course. Murphy's Law, I hate you. They got me a shot of Bourbon, and helped attend to my wounds. It was more like torturing me, but we all had a good giggle at parts. I also discovered it is entirely possible to laugh really hard and cry hysterically at the same time, a really strange experience. It was almost as bizarre as trying to piece together exactly what had happened, through all our perspectives came a mosaic of a story -- motorbike, my small hands and having difficulty brake and accelerating, the turn across traffic, the steep hill, the trees and leaves, the skid, lifintg the bike off of me, the man with the cart who came out of nowhere, the blood, the walk back, the laughs and attempts at "shaking it off," the shock, the aftershock... I'm still not entirely sure I know what happened or how. A ride back from the beach turned ugly in the blink of an eye. I was just so relieved, knowing it could have been so much worse.

The humidity here will pose a problem, as nothing dries - skin included. Everyone passing by has their own ideas for how I should proceed, all of which are pretty interesting. If nothing else it's a conversation starter. It still really hurts, this morning I woke up at 7 am because the sheet was touching my leg and it hurt, I hobble and can't go to the beach just yet. Salt water should help once it's somewhat healed. It keeps oozing at this point and I just am hoping it'll dry out enough to get some sort of scab on it. Other than the wreck, Bali has been amazing. It's people are so gentle, the weather is hot and humid and sunny and lovely, the water is emerald and the surfers are aplenty. I'm just going to have to avoid the motorbikes from now on, or at least the driving part. I've already hitched two rides on the back of them, it's kinda necessary here. Lots of hills and nothing between the beaches.

Some things I'm enjoying.

Courtesey of a Herman, specifically A. Herman ("this article is really long.. but its fascinating.. enjoy.") :
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/25/magazine/25desire-t.html?_r=1&emc=eta1

Read this on the bus today:
http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1887728,00.html

Courtesey of faja cause he knows how awesome dfw is and that i want to read pretty much everything pertaining to him:
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/03/09/090309fa_fact_max

This is funny, an aussie viral video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdVHZwI8pcA

Watched Tiger today and it reminded me of this article from last year... interesting even to someone who has zero love for golf (eg: me) : http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/01/sports/playmagazine/601tiger.html

And, finally: do, do do, do, do be da do do
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GBn-BpkNsA

How did I get here?

Well, shoot. Where do I begin? How about at the beginning...

I arrived in Sydney, and after taking a detour via the Blue Mountains for the day (lovely hikes, camping, sights... if I had ever been to the Grand Canyon I might compare the two. The Blue Mountains, and subsequent canyons, are covered in Eucalyptus - the oils from which tint the sights hazy blue, supposedly) I dropped the car off at Hertz and made my way up the hill towards the hugely notorious Coca-Cola sign at the top of William street and at the edge of King's Cross. One week in Sydney, starting riiiight.... NOW!

Or so I thought. As usual, one week turned into another, into another... this is the reason I love traveling alone. I don't have to ask my Travel Buddy, "Hey, TB. Do you mind if we stick around? I really like it here." I just wake up, and ask myself questions like " Hey, self. Are the benefits reaped here outweighing the potential costs of future plans?" Or, "Is there any reason why I should leave yet?" The answers to each were obvious before the question entered the foreground of my consciousness. Stay in Sydney I did, for six lovely weeks.

What did I do for those six weeks? Well, in all honesty, on paper it might not look like much. I went to a few museums. Went to a lot of beaches. Took some ferries. Cooked Kangaroo. I made fajitas, they were awesome. Seared the lean, low-in-cholesterol meat, stir fried green bell peppers mushrooms and onion (with garlic of course), flash fried them together and served with fresh avocado and lime and pepper on top with flour tortillas. Man was I popular in the kitchen that night. One cool thing about living in a youth hostel is that you see all these people from all over making somewhat familiar things in the kitchen, but serious authentic shit. Breakfast was the best -- Koreans Italians and French, the boring American and English... I got so many free fresh crepes and yummies... I plan to make a cook book at some point with the recipes I've collected. BUT I DIGRESS.

The people I spent the most time with were the French, this time around (you might remember my UK & English buddies in Melbourne). I made myself a little niche in what I jokingly called a French colonization, somehow there were about 15 of them all in the hostel, and me. I have always had a fascination with French culture, history and language. We became a sort of family, taking turns to make dinner for ourselves, going to new beaches and hikes (a lot of the coast is lined with hiking trails), and carousing the nights away. It was really hard to leave, which in part is why I stayed for so long. But, I ultimately set a deadline for myself, as Sydney was expensive and also difficult to find a job in (since I have a precarious visa... uhm, situation). I purchased a ticket to The Good Vibrations Festival in the Gold Coast, planned to meet Frenchie there once he got back from Fiji, and set my departure date. "Hey, you guys, I'm leaving on Wednesday!" I announced to my table of friends. "Yea, right, but which Wednesday?" James quipped, triggering a wild fire of laughter around our table, and the one next to ours. (Ever notice how someone laughing makes you giggle even if you don't get the joke?) Ok fine. Maybe I had said every week that I was only going to stay "Just one more week." Fair enough.

When the news was finally taken seriously, there were lots of tears, promises to meet again, and other such nonsense. It IS sad, but what is it about leaving that prompts us to make unrealistic promises? We all live on different continents. Well, I do, they were mostly French. but still. I mean we *might* see one another again, but if we don't, does the diminish what we had together here in Australia? We came, we shared some laughs and love, made memories, got tattoos, broke hearts, mended spirits, and saw things for the first time. The ultimate, I cannot stress this enough, being the most amazing. Think about it: when is the last time you saw something for the first time EVER? It's so exhilarating and wonderful and to share that with new people as excited as you are makes you so close, you create bonds that you may never have had with anyone else. They're so unique, just like the places in which they're (the bonds) are being created, and just like the people you're with. Anyway. I'm not demeaning the emotions, because I had them myself. I just wonder what it is about human nature, what we share on the most basic level that we feel the need to keep something alive past it's expiration date. Maybe to cling to something that feels so good, you don't want it to end. Or resisting the end because it means you're one step closer to all of this being over.

Which brings me to yet another tangent (as you can see I haven't been as productive in writing offline, either, so this won't be very focused). I am going to be overseas until June 15th. I figured I would tell everyone here since I seem to get the question a lot. While that seems a long time, I haven't met anyone who is traveling for any amount of time less than a year. I'm really sad I have to miss Alexis' bachelorette party and bridal shower, but I wouldn't miss the wedding for anything in the world. So when I get asked "why 9 months and not a year?" I happily explain that I GET to come home for my best bud's wedding!! :0)

So back to the last few weeks: a couple of days prior to leaving Sydney (for reals this time), I met up with Jessie in Manly Beach. Jessie and I went to UCLA together, and had Milton for ten loooong weeks. We bonded. Lost touch 'cept for facebook - she moved to Hawaii after graduation, I to NYC. Facebook put us back in touch, due to my updates about being still in Sydeny etc. Turns out she was moving to the North Shore for post grad work in International Relations! Met up, she wanted to see Byron Bay and take a road trip before her classes started, I said well join me. And Join me she did. But not before Olivia, a South African traveler anxious for a change of scenery from Bondi beach, joined us during a rousing round of drinks the night before departure. Sweet - I now had two friends in tow to join me for the multi day road trip to Gold Coast / Surfer's Paradise for the Good Vibes fest. Good thing, too, because Jessie's darling friend Bush (his real first name, trust me I checked his passport) hooked us up with not only two extra tickets tot he sold out show for Liv and Jess, but also a free apartment to stay in for the weekend we were there and an entourage of hot local surfers to accompany us to the fest. Frenchie wasn't the happiest of campers once we met up, but it's good for him.

Before we got to the best festival of all time -despite, or maybe because of, the torrential rain toward the end of the last performer, Fat boy Slim- we stoped in Port Macquerie over night, drove to Byron Bay for a few days via Bellingen (I found B. Bay over-priced and -rated, the beach was nice but the people were not and compared to the Backpacker Mecca painted by nearly everyone, we were totally let down), a road & head trip through Nimbin (as in road trip and head trip, you filthy animals), then finally Surfer's. WHEW. If I get to it, I will go into more detail about all those places and the things we did along the way, but I'm finding I am enjoying keeping some of these things off paper, and saving them for myself. In some cases, it's totally better this way.

Well, after the festival, the girls went back to Sydney, and I to see where I wanted to look for work. Which is what brought me to lovely Noosa, a small Laguna Beach-esque town on the Sunshine Coast. I found job on day one working at the Halse Lodge, a YHA so close to the beach you can feel it in the air. I work for free accommodation, meals, and Internet - which is why you'll be hearing a lot more from me. I live in a flat with the others who work here, which is great because I finally feel like I can settle down for a while and save some money. I plan on visiting Sydney this coming weekend, to visit a friend for his birthday... hopefully he hasn't figure out that I have a blog (he's still learning facebook so I think the secret is safe here 'til then)!

Well that is the official update on the unofficial life of KLWM. Miss you all and I can't really demand more updates since I haven't given you any, but maybe if I'm consistent I can get a piece or two of juice.

smooches x

Sometimes...

.. you need to fall off the grid.

I'm in Noosa, QLD, and will be here for the next 4 weeks working at a Lodge in exchange for accommodation & food; i.e. I'll have a lot more time to write.

xo

Sydney via the gor, princess hwy and the pch + blue mountains

Last Friday I rented a car with 4 of my English friends from the hostel Sean & Adam (who are friends traveling together), and James & Dan (same), prepared to take the Great Ocean Road by storm (hereafter "gor"). Our mission: to see the supposedly infamous 12 Apostles. This was my first time driving on the right (hereafter "wrong") side of the car and the left side of the road, and I was pretty nervous, especially because in Melbourne there are these things called "hook turns" where, because of the trams that occupy the middle lanes, you can only turn right from the left hand lane. Which is just confusing on so many levels. The car itself is really nice, it's a statesman or something, 6 cd player and So we make it out of town, and our first stop was this lighthouse that is in some show in England that they wanted to see, and at first I didnt want to stop, but I'm so glad I did. It was beautiful. I'll have to link to the facebook picture once Adam puts them up.

So for the most part, the day went without incident... well at one point I turned right across traffic and went to the right side of the divider, subsequently casing a chourus of screeches I didnt think possible from the male population. We also stopped in Apollo bay for some pretty rockin' fish n chips, english style... delicious fresh caught from the bay. We spent all of about 30 minutes at the 12 Apostles, snapped some photos and ran back to the car.. it was freakishly cold at that point and none of us were prepared. We went back home, but not before we tested the size of the boot (trunk) by putting Sean inside. Again, photos to come.

Saturday I had to wake up early to tear myself away from warm covers and cuddle, to pack all my shit and checkout of the hostel. I didn't leave 'til about 2pm, and I drove straight through to Malcoota... a sweet little town on the coast. The drive between was amazing, straight up Rain Forrest and National Parks. It was beautiful, until it got dark and I was exhausted from driving all day and low on gas... yea wasn't as fun then. Next day, the drive was much more relaxed. I stopped in Eden, which is aptly named. My first stop on the Sapphire Coast, also a proper name as the water is brilliantly clear, blue and just plain pretty. Clean sand and deserted beaches, small town and yummy fish n chips! Bermie was more of a disappointment, So I passed through Quickly. Milton had a good lollie shop, and then I stopped in Jervis Bay. All the acomodation was *conveniently* booked solid, so this was the night I was to sleep in the car. Lucky for me I rented a statesman (cheapest car in Hertz! surprisingly) so I had plenty of room. I found a pub and parked in the corner, went in and had a pint and pretended to be interested in the footie match (mel v per) (10 minutes for me to piece together that it was Melbourne v Perth). These 3 fogies were playing pool, and were pissed as hell, and invited me to play doubles. OF COURSE, says I. I'll wipe the floor with you. Wipe the floor we did, but not thanks to me, and anyone who has ever played any bar games with me knows how much bigger my bark is compared to my bite :)

After long discussions of Obama, world politics, views of Americans and Americas role in the world (also one dude's non-pc rant about how the aboriginals should be wiped completely from Australia... not the group consensus but we democratically allowed him to have his say), I called it a night. They insisted on coming the next morning to pick me up for breakfast on their boat, since I refused housing for the night, and to my surprise they came for me around 10am then next morning. A few beers and some baked beans later, I heard their 'night before' stories... the racist fell through the floor trampoline when he stumbled on the boat, and fell into the water, while the couple parked their dingy too close to the boat so when the tide came up the engine sunk. HA! Hilarity.

Left Jervis after some address exchanges, on my way to Woolongong. Boring. Was supposed to meet up with Alexis' friend who as it turns out wasn't in town that day, so I planned the rest of my trip up to Brisbane. Most of it ended up getting cut once I looked at a whole map of Australia... you guys I've only nicked the bottom half! I need to get a move on. Instead of going to Sydney right away, I took a trip to the Blue Mountains, which were gorgeous. Came to Sydenty last night, and have been enjoying it so far! MUch cleaner than expected, and prettier. Except for Bondi. Skip Bondi if you have the chance.

Well running out of time so I hope this wasnt too much of a rant. Miss you all and hope to be better about updating.

xxx

Melbourne

(I've been terrible with writing, keeping in touch, and updates in general, so this is everything I can think of before I forget. I might add more as things come to me.)

SOME Highlights of my time here in Melbourne are included, but not limited to:

- Polish Bouncer ridiculing me with the following: "Tell me, why are Americans so stupid?" He wasn't excluding present company. Apparently, this video is the source for every non-American's view of the good ole U.S. of A.;

- Aforementioned bouncer unable to name 10 states in the USA (He was able to produce the following: Utah, California, Florida, East Virginia, West Virginia, Chicago, and New Orleans);

- 50,000 people dressed head to toe in white for Sensation on NYE;

- 4 seasons in one day, everyday;

- Being told I have a lovely accent, and being the only American for miles;

- Learning about cricket/ pretending to care about cricket;

- Seeing a wild kangaroo (it was roadkill, but still, I will see one with a pulse eventually);

- learning to look right when crossing the road, without the nifty London precautions spray-painted on the ground for  foreigners' convenience; 

- GOON;

- Hearing my British friend's story of how he learned Father Christmas wasn't real: "I heard a loud noise downstairs, and when I came out of my room I saw my dad had fallen down proper pissed at the bottom of the stairs, in a pile of presents. It now makes sense why we put out bourbon and meat pie instead of cookies." 

- Spilling a beer on a banker my  first night waitressing at a chic lounge... oops;

- Moonlight cinema in the Botanical Gardens, with the bats across the sky right at sunset; 

- The picturesque beaches; 

- Learning to say Mel-bin; 

- Introducing travelers to Dave Chappelle's Killing Them Softly, and watching it with them and thus reliving the first time experience; 

- Cooking for 25 people in the hostel for family night (they liked it!);

- Christmas dinner at a traveler's house in the 'burbs, with 15 people and homemade Pimms; 

- Highly advertised hangover magic cure pills, in movie previews and on TV all the time;

- Bouncers at the Bottle Shops (liquor stores) after hours, and yours truly being turned away... Subsequently arguing my right to purchase goon and go home to drink if I feel like it, and who the hell are you that you can *magically* discern my B.A.C. from way over there? You're just a doorman, doorman! Doorman! Doorman! DOORMAN! 

- Hearing the Obama acceptance speech mashed over a techno song at Sensation on NYE, and the crowd (of 50,000) going nuts.

- Watching the original Batman movie from the 60's with 4 Dutch guys... priceless. 

Anyway. I have been here a month, have been working sporadically at a lounge, making some monies, and enjoying the city. Met many quality people, of course. French, German, Dutch,  Belgium, English, Australian, Canadian, Austrian, Italian... amazing. I am ready to get on the road, though, I'll be leaving on Saturday to drive up the East Coast, ending my trip in Port Douglas. I plan to take about a month to do so, then off to New Zealand. Pretty much hopping my way back up to Thailand, where my return flight leaves from. Ill be back by the end of May, in time for Alexis' wedding in SB! 

Miss you all very much, and I was so glad to hear from everyone over the holidays, especially when my grandma passed away. It was tough being far away from home - and alone - during a time of loss. It's nice to feel the love from the other side of the world, it certainly made it easier to get through. Thanks :o) 

Much love to you all.

xx 

terribly mistaken

Melbourne Movie theater, night.

Enter: KATY, all grins, as she is about to engage in a transaction with a person who speaks native English, for the first time in 2 months. She approaches TICKET CLERK, who looks incredibly bored.

KATY: Hello, I'd like one for Quantum of Solace, please (smiles genuinely).

TICKET CLERK: (unintelligible).

K: Hmm? (Slightly confused, but not deterred. After all, it is a bit loud).

TC: (louder) Any coupons or concessions?

K: Uh, no?

TC: Alright, that's one -

K: - Wait, I buy popcorn here?

TC: Coupons or concessions. You buy the popcorn inside.

K: (Still confused, but trying to pretend like it was misunderstood). Ooooooh, no. Well, I definitely want popcorn, but no.

TC: Alright (speaks through teeth), Where would you like to sit?

K: (Long pause, then) Wait, I can choose where I sit, here?

TC: Yes miss.

K: Uhm. OK... Isle? In the back?

TC: Alright. (Then. very slowly, with annoyingly dominant eye contact:) Your film is upstahs, take the lift on the left. (Hands ticket to visibly disturbed patron).

KATY takes the ticket and gets lost looking for the lift, which she knows to be an elevating mechanism of some sort or other, but only after she looks right does she find the elevator. Purchases popcorn and soda with minimal trouble, but for needing to repeat her order three times before the CONCESSIONS CLERK understands that she just wants a fucking diet coke and popcorn. Finally, ticket in one hand, and soda in the other with popcorn under the arm, KATY approaches the TICKET TAKER, and hands him her ticket for Quantum of Solace.

TT: Alright, Quant- oh, wait. This starts at eight THIRTY, miss.

K: Yes...

TT: It's only 8 o'clock.

K: Yes...

TT: (annoyed) The film isn't over yet, I'm sorry you'll have to wait.

KATY looks around to see there is no place to sit, let alone any place to stand without looking totally stupid standing there with her popcorn and soda and movie ticket in the middle of the empty lobby, and how much time do they allow to clean the place? When is a good time to come back? She decides to look around the lobby posters as though extremely interested, until trying again once a group leaves the theater, with 15 minutes before curtain.

NEW TT: Hello. Ah, theater on your left.

K: (Looking at ticket for the non existent seat assignment, and subsequently confused) Uh, sir?

NTT: Is there a problem?

K: Is there, an uh, seat assignment? (winces for fear of yet another crippling are-you-retarded-glare)

NTT: Ah, yea, I'm sorry, I ripped it. Here you are.

K: (relieved) Thanks!

NTT: No worries!

KATY sits in the theater to enjoy Quantum of Solace, from beginning to end, except for the song at the beginning, which totally sucked, and sounded worse than the alley cats in Bangkok fighting. Also was perplexed with the previews, which included one precautionary commercial depicting a girl cutting off her hand in a store because she didn't ask how to use the bread slicer, ending with "It Never Hurts To Ask." ; and a recruiting commercial for Massage Therapy School in Canada. Here KATY thought life and culture in Melbourne, Australia, would be un-interestingly similar to life in America. No extra credit given for figuring out what she thinks now.

Pics

Well here are some pictures I have finally been able to upload, I'm new to Picassa so we will see how it works. It took me three days (as my gchat buddies have seen) to upload, sort, and get these pictures in any sort of presentable order, so I hope they're not too redundant (some of the temple ones probably are, I couldn't stop taking pictures though, every corner I turned was more amazing). I will add more Bangkok pictures to the 2nd one. For the most part they are (should be) chronological, Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Meong River, Laos, Cambodia, Railay Beach, Bangkok. ENJOY!

KATY 1 -500

KATY last batch

Thais - They're just like US!

This is something I've been wanting to do, but haven't been able to until I got to a place where I could upload photos. There are more, but I can only handle so much photo uploading in one day... so keep your eyes peeled for the installments to follow, of a little chapter I like to call :

Thais - They're just like US!

They hang their clothes to dry!

They get bored at work!

<--- bubblewrap














They have a tough time spelling foreign words!














They have street carts with coffee! (The cans are used for shaking the milk and coffee and sugar together - yum.)




And they sell nuts on the street, too!




















They have organized, clean subways, that run on time-- JUST LIKE NEW YORK!












AND they even commit a fashion faux-paux here and there. Looks like someone forgot his belt at home today, oops!

They value customer service...
("We Want You Be Happy" aw, shucks)

And they're up to date on current affairs!

All in all, it's been an easy transition. Who would have guessed they'd be so much LIKE US?

fiction

He wasn't a particularly conscientious fellow, but he realized he had perhaps acted improperly when he could not successfully read a page from his novel without unintentionally replaying the events in his mind. Nobody knew about her, anyway, so it wasn't veritably a difficult issue to ignore. He could live the rest of his week as though nothing atypical had happened, which is how he had planned to do it, all along.

But it was the 11th hour, and he was alone in his house, having tea by the fire when the voices started to interrupt Mister Hemingway's. This was when the heaviness suppressed in his sternum crept and clawed it's way out; when the back of his dark heart became the foreground of his consciousness. It happened so slowly, so inching and creepy that he had almost reached the end of the story before realizing he hadn't in fact been reading at all, but listening to the voices, and watching the events unfold like clips of a movie. Random flashes, slowly becoming more prominent than the dream world of The Old Man And The Sea, like static from another channel superimposed over the one you're trying to watch, before it finally becomes the only thing you can see. His white knuckles and the Cuban fisherman; her salty tears came from the ocean. You did not do so badly for something so worthless, he said to his left hand. But there was a moment when I could not find you. Glass shattered, her futile pleadings, his resentment incarnated in his permanent sneer. Flashes. Removed. Watching it unfold between the font on the pages, as though it were another man, another woman, a familiar neighbor or a character on t.v., instead of her.

He shivered violently, as though waking from a dream. He craned his stiff neck toward the fireplace that stomached only embers. "Goddamnit," he whispered. His coughing voice broke the silence of his cabin, and he smirked as he recalled Genesis 1:3. He put down the paperback, and brought his now cold, over steeped mug of tea into the kitchen, turning on lights in each room on the way. When had it gotten dark? He wondered. The still semi-full kettle remained on the burner as he lit the gas stove, taking care to douse the match before disposing of the charcoal stick. She had taught him that. Douse the lit match, like spitting on a cigarette butt before tossing it. She had quit smoking, too. For him. For He spoke, and it was done; He commanded, and it stood fast. For Him. These were some of her last words. For you, she said. It's all for you. He had never seen her cry before that night. He had heard her weep before, in the dark, in bed, when she thought he was asleep. Or maybe she knew, passive aggressive bitch that she was probably did know. He had resented it before, before that night -- their last -- he had realized her big, blue eyes turned beautifully red, the passion behind them, the pink in her nose and the shimmer on her cheeks, she was electrified, and lovely. Beautiful. Begging him. Pleading. Trying to save her life, in his. He was fortunate to be able to tune her out, to better enjoy that picture, to be gazed upon in his mind forever. The kettle's whistle impatiently rose from quiet to loud -- he realized again he had granted her the power of his attention. Methodically, he removed the kettle from the ignited burner to the dead one, taking pleasure in eliminating the gas, and poured the hot water on the wet bag of leaves, releasing other worlds of aroma and pleasure.

The truly terrible thing about it was, he knew that what he did was wrong. He knew when he planned it. When he executed the plan, he even acknowledged his awareness to her as she dared challenge him. Yes, I know, he had said. Repeating mistakes. Perpetuating the bad. She hadn't expected him to realize the connection, the inheritance of habit, doing unto others what you suffered at the hands of another. She was dumbfounded, and even abruptly stopped crying as he was saying it. How could you? Intentionally? Accept it? The truth knocked the wind out of her. She didn't know how to play a game when the other played by different rules. He had always prided himself in being an honest guy. Her cliches annoyed him. It's not my fault you didn't ask the right questions, he said. In all honesty. Truth be told. Truly, madly, deeply. She hadn't deserved what he had to give, but it was out of his hands. Like watching a movie. Someone else. This is not my life. The teacup was full to the rim but too hot to drink, causing him to move with the intent of a tightrope walker back to his easychair. The silence was deafening, as he stared with each step at the trembling tension that threatened to break the water's surface. He could feel his body harden at the potential burns he would suffer with one, false, step.

Once in his chair, he looked at the dying fireplace. The smoking hot mug at his side, he settled in for the fight to finish. He would finish. You are killing me, fish, the old man though. But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or calmer or more noble thing than you... he paused. Silence. No static, no pain where there should be none. Just the dying fire, the steaming cup of tea. Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who. Everything in it's place. You must keep your head clear. Keep your head clear and know how to suffer like a man. {grin}

"A great way to start my day"

Courtesy of Katie O, but out there for the young Millers: Zach, Jess, Andrea, and Luke (even though he doesn't know it yet, this will be his favorite movie of all time).

Gratuitous, this one's on me:

I'm doinit

The following was taken from the http://www.dhamma.org/ website. This is something I have always wanted to do, and I think I'll make time to do it in either Aus or NZ... for some reason I have always associated this practice with these locations. Plus, it's free, good for you, and just really really cool.

"Vipassana, which means to see things as they really are, is one of India's most ancient techniques of meditation. It was rediscovered by Gotama Buddha more than 2500 years ago and was taught by him as a universal remedy for universal ills, i.e., an Art Of Living.
This non-sectarian technique aims for the total eradication of mental impurities and the resultant highest happiness of full liberation. Healing, not merely the curing of diseases, but the essential healing of human suffering, is its purpose.

"Vipassana is a way of self-transformation through self-observation. It focuses on the deep interconnection between mind and body, which can be experienced directly by disciplined attention to the physical sensations that form the life of the body, and that continuously interconnect and condition the life of the mind. It is this observation-based, self-exploratory journey to the common root of mind and body that dissolves mental impurity, resulting in a balanced mind full of love and compassion.

"The scientific laws that operate one's thoughts, feelings, judgements and sensations become clear. Through direct experience, the nature of how one grows or regresses, how one produces suffering or frees oneself from suffering is understood. Life becomes characterized by increased awareness, non-delusion, self-control and peace."

Go ahead, say it. H-i-double-p, i-e! It's all good. I might be annoyed now, but after this retreat, I'll be so zen master you won't be able to tell between me and a grasshopper. SNAP!

Nakhon Si Thammarat say what

Stuck inside a hostel with the Bangkok blues again.

14 hours by train, and I find myself back in the south. These ain't no euro-rail luxury trains, lemme tell ya. I think I saw a couple chicken on this particular overnighter. Ghe-tto. I paid next to nothing for the ticket though, and as the saying goes: you get what you pay for. The floors reminded me of a school bus -- blue linoleum-ish and sticky looking. The seats were deceitfully upholstered like an airport terminal, and harder than the ground. They came designed without the middle arm rest, too, meaning the person you end up sitting next to becomes your snuggle buddy for the night. The windows and doors all stay open the whole trip, and while seemingly unsafe it was better than smelling whatever it was that reeked. From the waist up or more is open air window, which made me wonder if Thailand ever has problems with banditos or thieves boarding the train in the night, since we're going so slowly that it wouldn't take an acrobat to hop on in through the window. But oh wait, the doors stay open too, so how silly of me- they can just walk on in. I'm pretty sure they do... Luckily, I met a couple of psychotic Canadian fellows who were more than entertaining for the night's trip, and they had a sleeper car with a table, couple bottles of thai whiskey, and a deck of cards. They were loud and kept pretending they were American when people would give us weird looks, but I was so bored and grossed out with my cattle car none of that mattered. I can't say I slept at all, but I also can't say I would have anyway. I can say it was WAY better than snuggling with the guy that stank like garbage and had never heard of "personal space" before. Plus, new people are always fun.

Alas, you'll have to pardon my cynicism. I was stuck in Bangkok for much much longer than I wanted to be, and man oh man AM I GLAD TO BE OUT. I assure you though that it was completely safe (probably safer than the train), and that all the tumultuousness was only occurring in the areas of protest, and while it's extremely inconvenient for travelers all over s.e.a., it should only be measured as such. So rest assured.

One perk of being stuck in Bangkok was that I could talk to some locals and get more information on what is going on with the protests. Here, in a nutshell, is what I've learned:

(1) Thailand is no stranger to coups, protests of government, or 'sit-ins'. This is how the people deal with government they do not agree with. The first Prime Minister was instated as a result of a coup, in 1932. I think there have been some 20 or so coups since, but only one has been, as they say, bloody.

(2) This is indeed the first occupation of an airport, but with protests going on more or less ignored for 6 months, who can blame them for wanting to take drastic measures? It seems to me this is an excellent way to get one's government to pay attention to you.
(2.a) IE: Ok fine, you don't want to listen to us? We occupy, and effectively close down the airport. Now, tourists + apathetic citizens + foreigners who depend on that airport to stay functional = angry, now are all calling upon the Prime Minister to do something about it. Whether or not the aforementioned give a shit about the PAD's cause, it's forcing the government to stop turning their backs and acknowledge those unhappy with the way things are going. Very smart strategy for the protesters, because they're insisting that they aren't leaving until the entire government (all of whom the protesters claim to be puppets/corrupt/affiliated with the old Prime Minister) step down and place their positions up for re-election. This process takes up to 60 days, but all they're asking for is new elections for all posts.

(3) This led me to wonder, what is so bad about the new Prime Minister, and why are they asking him to step down NOW, A.S.A.P., and the subject for the PAD is not up for negotiation. WELL I'll tell you. While Thais are no stranger to coups or protests against their government, they are IN LOVE with and utterly devoted to (perhaps to a fault) their King. There are pictures of him EVERYWHERE. You cannot go into a mall, walk down the block, come to an intersection, pretty much leave your hostel/hotel/house/apartment without seeing a picture of this guy. He is pretty sweet looking, he usually has a camera around his neck and wears spectacles. But he's getting very old. His birthday, in fact, is the first week in December* and it's a huge national celebration. Now, the old PM Thaksin Shinawatra was ousted a couple of years ago for corruption, and "replaced himself" first with a literal 'stand-in,' who resigned due to corruption charges in September, followed by this new guy, Somchai Wongsawat (in September), who also happens to be Thaksin's brother-in-law. (Well not technically "replaced himself," but the Parliament that elected Somchai is overwhelmingly made up of Thaksin appointees.) Well becasue the King is in his twilight years, there have been speculations of Somchai and Thaksin luring the young prince to their sympathies, and I'm exhausted just talking about it so I will stop there, allowing your imaginations to fill in why the protestors who don't like anything about these PMs would be upset with the notion that their beloved monarchy could be tampered with.

(4) Turns out the PAD chose yellow to show support for the Monarchy, and that their group consists mostly of the educated, the city-folk, the business men and women of Thailand, whereas the supporters for the current PM (s) are rural country folk.

(5) Most the people I spoke with were not at the Bangkok airport, so that means they aren't politically weighted necessarily one way or the other, because they weren't protesting, but they do live in the city and speak English, ergo are considered educated. These people also responded for the most part indifferently, more annoyed with the disturbance than worried or interested,
and I'm not sure if it's typical Thai-don't-tend-to-speak-out-against-authority (ha you wouldn't believe it, would you?), or that they indeed didn't care one way or the other.

So that is the information I have gathered regarding the protests. If I learn anything more of any interest, you can be sure I will pass it along. For now, I am enjoying this small little town and the relief from stinky & busy Bangkok. I am meeting some of Mac's friends tonight, we're making tortillas and having a little house party, so it'll be interesting to see some of their insights, although Mac seems just as indifferent as the Thai. I will stay here until I figure out where I can go next, without being on the accommodation clock (as he has graciously opened up his place for me until I get things sorted out or until the main airport opens, although now I'm near Phuket so I might head back over there for a bit).

Smooches, and keep the updates coming, I like hearing about what you all are up to. xx
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FN*A lot of people are certain this protest will come to an end by the time the King's birthday comes around for the sake of preventing any embarrassment. It's spoken as fact, because it's beyond any Thai person's comprehension that any citizen would possibly risk embarrassing the King. As I mentioned in another post when I first got here, you can't put money (with the Kings image on it) in your back pocket or shoe, lest you insult Him or the Thais.

Bangkok day 1+ x

The truth about the protests here in Bangkok:

While an ongoing and serious issue for the People's Alliance for Democracy (yellow) and the government they're opposing (red), the strife does not extend beyond the groups included. It'd be like living in Red Hook, and being told there was a "riot" on the uws, or being in Santa Monica and hearing of "protests" at Staples Center or the Rose Bowl. I mean yea, it's escalated, but from barely nothing to a blip on the radar. Plus, it's the people against the gov't, so nobody is targeted in particular, but more symbols of the government in place (unless you're one of the unlucky fellows put in place to subdue the protestors).

Don't believe me? These are a few of my favorite local media comments on the protest(er)s: "traffic nuisance", "Christmas carolers", "never-ending saga", "futile [...] drain on society" and, "political melodrama." The protesters, who are unhappy with the current PM, who is laterally related to the last ousted one (but they chose yellow for their color? Confusing because it's the color for the royalty around here, there are yellow flags all over the place because the King's birthday is coming up in the first week of December. Perhaps intentional politically, or maybe they're trying to boost their numbers?), are publicly insulting the gov't, with doozies like "monitor lizards." Apparently just the absolute worst, as far as Thai insults go. I gather it's akin to a slap in the face with a glove. SIRISAIDGOODDAY!

My favorite so far is the quote from a protest leader, who lays out his plan. "First, we will not let the cabinet use [Don Muang Airport] for their meetings anymore. Second, wherever they go for their meetings, we have our special troops that will follow them there." And then, once they get there, who knows? Maybe more insults. Maybe not. It's just too hard to tell, really.

So here I am for another few days. It's not so bad, I get to hang out and talk to some more travelers about places I want to go, in exchange for made up stories about places they want to go. The airports are closed down, so the hostel is getting crowded, i.e. more people to have fun with. I hope things are resolved by Friday, because that's when my flight is. I'm off to Bali at the end of the week (Protests allowing), where I will be through the end of the calendar year. From there I can visit Lombok, possibly Australia too... kinda just seeing where the wind takes me. As always, I'm open to any and all suggestions, those received thus far have been extremely helpful, so many thanks. And watch out for those monitor lizards, they might be able to travel through the series of tubes that make up the internets. I know that's old, but I just don't want to let that one die. That, and I'm like your (my) senile grandma: out of touch and eager to be in on the news.

And now for something completely unrelated:

So I saw, like, the last ten minutes of this movie, which was completely amazing, and if you knew about it, to hell with you for not telling me about it's glory; if you didn't know about it, then I think you should go to your little netflix cue or your video rental store or download off the internet the next time you're like, "hey, I feel like watching something awesome," and then thank me for it.

This little Canadian film gem is about zombies. I know. Awesome already, right?

Let me paint the picture of where I came in, late last night, flipping through channels, before I went to bed.

1950's neighborhood, all gaudy and pastel a la Edward Scissorhands. Boxy paddy wagon complete with bars on the back windows, slamming shut, we see blue faced FIDO (both literally and figuratively, as this particular zombie is bummed to be imprisoned) thrown in the slammer. Little Timmy runs across his perfectly manicured lawn to the street, screaming "FIDO! NOOO!" But it's too late. Fido is already being taken away.

Enter fedora capped trench coat donning government official. He's here to inform Timmy he's done a very bad thing, and dutifully scolds little Timmy that because of his carelessness people in the neighborhood have died. But, lucky for Timmy, his parents assured the government nothing like this will ever happen again, and Father appears in the street to subsequently send Timmy to his room.

Spoiler alert!

Fido is freed from the Zombie internment camp by shotgun wielding Mother, who turns out to be that black haired chick from House, and Father dies I think from the gun that he gave 9 year old Timmy, but I can't be sure. Then Fido marries mother and takes over as head of the household. The little neighbor girl gets her own zombie, who she carries around on a chain leash, whom she assertively and kinda masochistically calls "Daddy."

Favorite line: [mother to father]: "Bill, just because your father tried to eat you, does that mean we all have to be unhappy... forever?!"

I'm in love.

Bangkok - day one

Well I think I have found Los Angeles' equivalent, it's doppelganger city. Ironically, the original name for Bangkok translates to "city of angels." It's busy with business and tourists, the traffic is terrible, most the people who were born here live here their whole lives, a lot of people from satellite cities come here for work, a lot fo commuters, there is a huge disparity in social and economic class that is easily ignored by pretty much everyone because of how secluded each little "burrough" or community is from it's neighbor (think north vs south Pico Blvd in West LA, or the fashion district in downtown). There is everything from high fashion and huge hotels to homeless living in the back streets, a wide variety of culture and cuisine, and a huge tourist industry. The only main difference is the prominence of the river here, and it's use for travel. That, and all the squiggly writing (Arrested Development, anyone?) So far, the sights are enough to keep me interested (Emerald Buddah, Sukumvit, Johnson's house, Wat ARUN!!!).

I will spend the next few days here, until I have a sort of itinerary mapped out. I plan to visit Connie and Mac in the south/east, for a short while, so I can get my bearings (and of course see where Mac's been living and teaching). At that point I hope to have myself in the works for a travel to teach program (or something of the like) set for January-ish, which will allow me to travel for fun for the next month or so. I have a ticket back home that is good for the next 6 months, and can be changed within that time freely. It's currently set for February.

Which leaves me on my own for Thanksgiving (unless I'm with C&M), My 25th birthday, Hanukkah/Christmas (Luke's first!!), and New Year's eve. It will be tough, because this is the time of year we all spend time together, get to see one another and bond over how crazy everyone else is making us... but I assure you I'll be fine. I feel so blessed to be able to take this journey. The elements that equated to this situation were too "once in a lifetime" for me to pass up. And I have such strong connections with the towns I visit, and the people I meet along the way, I know I won't be "alone" for a minute of it.

Plus, you all know how much I like myself, who else would I want to spend this time with?

I'll be keeping you posted...

Last Day!

I have been a bad blogger, and for that I should apologize. I admit it. Mea culpa. My bad. Whoopsie Daisy. Let's move on.

I'll catch up once my parents leave, but for now I am enjoying their company and our last few days together in this really sweet hotel before I'm on my own. That's right -- I have officially decided to stay a while longer, at least til after the New Year! Today we are going to a tennis match, and watch the greats John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg fight on the court ... I'm really looking forward to it. Dad loves tennis, and I was raised by a family who watched tennis a lot, which pretty much makes me a fan. A few sides to catch everyone up before I have more time to post something more specific:

-We went from Cambodia to Krabi, which was a beautiful island getaway. It's what dreams are made of, as lame as that sounds. Went snorkeling, saw some elephants, went on a hike, there is rock climbing and plenty of other activities. For some reason there more than anywhere else yet, I wished my brother was there with us, it would have been really fun to do some of those activites with him. I will have to settle with recommendations for when he comes next time.
--> We took a day and drove up to Khao Lak where the Tsunami hit a few years back, to see the final resting place of our dear dear friend Luke Scully. It was beautiful, and personally it made me a little happy to be there, to see that really there is no other place I would want to spend my last day on Earth. It was tough to not imagine a 40 foot wave on the horizon, and what that would look like, and they do little to try and deter you from being aware where you are. There are tsunami warning zone signs and evacuation route signs every 100 meters or so on your way in to the beach. A little much, and a little too late, but I guess it's better than nothing.

-Kho Poo Poo and Kho Phi Phi (pee pee) are two islands next to each other in the south, and Phuket is actually pronounced foo-kit (I thought it was poo - keht). No wonder Thailand is called the land of smiles...

We're in Bangkok now, as I mentioned, and it's very busy here. We've been enjoying the hotel and it's perks, it's almost comical how attentive the staff is here. You can't think of something you want before they're getting it for you. Every floor has a butler. They have complimentary champagne waiting for you in your room, the good stuff. When you walk into breakfast, and give them your room number, they know your name by the time you've reached the table (I think I've figured out how they do it, but I was dumbfounded the first time). I haven't ever stayed any place with better customer service. They even picked us up in a BMW from the airport! Needless to say it will be a bit of an adjustment once the parents leave. Haha. I'm looking forward to it!!

So if anyone wants to come spend the holidays out here, let me know, I am going to either be volunteering or working, but I haven't planned that far ahead. On my list of places to visit (might I mention it's extremely ambitious?):

Bali
India
NZ
Aus
Laos (again)

Do-able, right? ;)

mekong youkong

Well this is a bit late, and while I worte it long after the fact, I thought I published it way back when. Anyway, here 'tis:


We went from Chiang Mai to Chiang Rai, spent the day in the outskirts of Chiang Rai, then the following day drove to the river to get on this boat that Mom swore up and down was not going to be uncomfortable or affected by the rainy weather, because : "my 80 year old friends recommended it to me, so how bad could it be?" She said it like that is a good thing. Attempting to communicate reassurance, I was not comforted.

So it was not surprising that once we crossed the river to Laos in the rain on a tiny little long boat to get our visas, that the hot frenchmen who I had been chatting with kept going straight when we stopped in to our check in to our tour. There were a group of older white haired Brits, who wore socks with sandals and took turns while speaking. "By golly George," Blanche said while checking her timepiece, "it's nearly time for a snackie, wouldn't you say?" It was 9am. George said something in an accent so thick I couldn't tell what he responded, but apparently it was hil-ar-ious, because they all laughed in unison. Cue iPod.

Once we got our visas and our luggage on the boat, we got comfortable. I of course chose the table with the guys who were under 40, mom went for comfort over company, and Sarah bee lined to the front of the boat where she could smoke. Cue Don DeLillo.

I must admit, I immediately stereotyped everyone one the boat within the first few hours. What else are you going to do for 7+ hours on a boat? Mountain scenery and trees only entertains you for so long. The interesting part is not that my preconceptions were shattered by the end of day 2 (they in some cases were), but that for the most part were spot on: each person fit into his or her regional stereotype perfectly... with we Americans headlining the playbill.

Canadians (4): A 30 something woman traveling with her elderly father, who I think was only there to amuse his daughter. She had a nose ring and a short man haircut circa 1990, and wore socks with her tivas. She had one diamond ring on her left ring finger, and it looked like it was either from HSN or Debeers. She dressed for comfort and practically, and had a fanny pack that she never took off, even when she was wearing her backpack - which was always. Her dad was old and distinguished, and neither spoke to the other for the entire two day trip. They just sat on different benches, near but never across from one another, and read books that they admitted to having read before. But not to each other. They were traveling with another Canadian couple, a retired couple of childless teachers who seemed to have come to Asia to document their benevolence. Because, you know, it isn't good unless you can show your friends back home how philanthropic you are. When scouring one of two scheduled stops at hill tribe villages, the husband actually had his wife re-walk the path from the boat with candy in hand to give to the begging children, because his camcorder wasn't on the first time. Day 2 this man bought whiskey from the 2nd scheduled hill tribe and got hammered before noon. "We're Canadian, this is how we stay warm," he breathed. Touche.

Swiss (4): 2 interracial couples, and none of them from Switzerland, all of them men. One from Holland, one from Germany, one from Belgium, and the last one from the Czech Republic. 3 lawyers, one anesthesiologist. The German was extremely interested in American politics, and was happy to inform us of the world's view of America, which I will spare you (this was pre-election, by the way). They all also loved to talk about chocolate, and were happy to break their diets when we shared our Sees candies.

Young British guys (2): Very pale. Lawyer, AdMan. Made extremely dry, sarcastic and snarky comments aloud and unabashedly about most everyone and everything, but no matter how funny they were I'm pretty sure they were the only two in on the jokes. Became weak in the knees when I mentioned "fish and chips."

Northern Californians (2): A recent college grad traveling with his very hip and worldly mother. She looked very bohemian and all her clothes were native to somewhere far away and probably one of a kind. She had really chunky jewelry that I was envious of, and she had a lot of good information on places in s.e. asia to visit. He was a good source of info for places where backpackers liked to party.

You can imagine where we (3) fit into all this, and that by the end of day one, at the river lodge, mom and I were sitting with the Swiss dudes sharing wine and sticking our noses in the air at the stiff old Brits who otherwise stayed in a completely isolated part of the boat. By the time we got to Laos, we had exchanged emails, phone numbers, and home addresses with nearly all of them, with open house policies instated across the board. Interlaken, anyone?

Cambodia

I have trouble reconciling my excitement with my guilt. On the one hand, I love being in new places and learning about new cultures, but on the other, it's almost impossible, knowing how fortunate you are for being able to travel to places of such economic and political ruin, to do so with a clean conscience. It's appropriate, then, that I see Siem Reap, Cambodia, as a place in the midst of a severe straddle: between the old, blatantly corrupt land of civil strife -- and the new, secretly (but not well disguised) corrupt land in the process of building up tourism.

It was dark when we landed in Siem Reap. Pang, our driver who is cartoonish in his enthusiasm and frequently laughs backward, told us it means "Thai defeated." He says everything with a smile and anticipation for a reaction, followed by another smile. Having just researched the history of the Khmer Rouge the night before (call me naive, but I had no idea), I am skeptical of this place. It was only thirty years ago, and it was bloody. Not to mention the current PM muscled his way in, and is an ex- Khmer Rouge guerrilla. The main strip (only strip?) consists of hotels and casinos, lit with cheap lights and flimsy flash, effectively distracting you from the side streets where most the locals live in poverty. Even in the dark, the carts selling food and trinkets clearly aren't the same as in other towns we've visited: they are run down, over stuffed with poor quality, and surrounded not with patrons but with kids selling more junk, and they all look hungry.

I observed, somewhat stupidly and aloud, that it's kinda like Back to the Future 2. Nobody argued. I think Biff would have gotten along with Pol Pot.

Hotel, hotel, hotel, casino, hotel/casino... built on Killing Fields. Pang tells us that the owner of one hotel is friends with the current PM. This is nothing like my beloved Laos. I wish Marty McFly were here.

Day 2: Temples. Angkor Thom, Ta Prohm, and Angkor Wat. The first two are beautiful, absolutely, but Angkor Wat is severely under maintained and in dire need of restoration. The other two will be too, I have a feeling, because there was absolutely no limits to what you could climb on, touch, take with you... plus only 10% of your entrance fee goes back into the temples, if at all -- they openly tell you the percentage, which leads me to believe it's even less.

The country does a nice job of assisting you in escapism: they have plenty of sights and shops and things to do, and look over here at this neat temple, and here are some things to keep you from thinking about the mass exodus that occurred not so long ago. It's just that I don't buy what the government is selling. Compared to the Laotians, who also were subjected to hardships during and after the Vietnam war, and even directly at the hands of the USA, the Cambodians just seem hardened. USA bombed little Laos more than anywhere else during Vietnam or World War II per capita, and 30% of bombs dropped remain unexploded in many regions of the countryside that are populated by hill tribes. But here much of the war was within. Laos could unify against the outside. As a result, I think, the people in Laos are so gentle, lovely, and easy going. The people here have been nothing but nice, but I just can't seem to get past the vibes here. Maybe it's spiritual, maybe I'm reading too deeply between the lines. I know absolutely it's unfair to compare Luang Prabang city to Siem Reap, or to let one city represent an entire country, but these two are all I have to go by, and by golly it's my blog and I'll compare if I want to.

Anyway. The place we are staying has a vibe all it's own, largely due to various community outreach programs the hotel funds and operates. It helps keep people off the streets by providing opportunities for education, then going a step further to employ many of the graduates. Begging is a huge problem, and tourists actually contribute and enable almost wholly, albeit unknowingly. Often times tourists will bring candy for the local children, with the best of intentions at heart. But when the children don't eat a balanced diet, or brush their teeth, or have regular doctors, it's extremely unhealthy. Seems obvious, I know... But it's not uncommon for children by the time they reach 6 or 7 to have lost all their baby teeth before they fall out naturally, from all the sugar they consume.

ALLRIGHT. I realize I went on a little rant there. It's tough though, not to get caught in this web of "where do I fit in?" You see the differences, separate the menial from the manageable, try to filter it into comprehension, but you never stop feeling like "your halo's pinching," as I liked to hear Connie say. Who am I to preach? I guess this is where the "it's my blog and I can rant if I want to" comes in, but even that emotion seems confusing. I *get* to sit here at a computer and talk about it. But what does that do? What am I even discussing that hasn't been said before?

Tomorrow I hit the market and try to ignore the signs of the Khmer, both hidden and blatant. Because I haven't reconciled with myself, I'll revert to habit. Cog in the machine, kind of thing. Will try to post more often, but it's been difficult -- by the time I feel comfortable enough to make observations, it's time to move on. It's like mom says Kesey used to say, that the hardest part about writing is the not living while you're doing the writing. Living in the past instead of making more memories to write about. I'll figure it out. But until then, enjoy the stocked up, only now published post below from the past.