What a dramatically spectacular last night in Laos! After a bleeding hot and humid day, as the sun was setting, Mother Nature started gusting her winds, bolder with each breath. The rain is pouring down onto the tin roof above me, beyond my protecting mozzie net. I’ve just about packed everything for my 9:30 bus in the morning and am blissfully reflecting on my last few days.
Here in Vang Vieng I’ve formed a little family. They found me my first night when I was having a sundowner at a bar on the river and writing. They were in the booth next to me and started including me in some of their jokes. One of the guys came and sat next to me and said, squinting and pointing his finger at me, “You look like you’re very interesting. I’m tired and going now, but I would like to find out more about you. Do you want to grab a meal with me tomorrow?" I suppose that’s the closest thing as being asked out on a date that I’ve been graced with in a long time. It was super sweet and all I said, smiling, was, “I’m really not that interesting." I thought he was a creepy guy but as I grew to know Steve I found that is just his way of life. He talks to everyone, especially people he’s intrigued by. He’s a weathered Welsh hippie with a heart of gold and more funny stories than the endless Friends episodes that were playing at all the bars.
(Yes - side note, Friends and Family Guy re-runs were being played at every bar and restaurant. And people just lounged around during the hot days watching those shows. Bizarre! Yet I did do it - just one day! - and it was like I had all the comforts of home all the way across the world.)
So Steve became my first friend when we bumped into each other again the next day in town. He was hanging out with 2 other single girl travelers, both also from California. None of them knew each other prior to getting to Laos. Jen and Danielle were such open, happy, amazing women. We all met and clicked and have laughed for hours and hours and just provided a warm environment for each other, where you can be silly and you’re protected.
Aside from a whole hot of hanging out in hammocks with a non-osculating osculating fan we also got out of the town and enjoyed the nature. We rented bikes one day and rode them out to the Blue Lagoon, which was this gorgeous crystal blue natural spring with big, colorful chillin woven straw mats on the lawn above it and a bunch of people laying out, eating, drinking, playing soccer, just picnicking and enjoying the natural beauty. From there you could walk up a trail for about 10 minutes and get into a huuuuuge cave. I guess you can go back into the cave for 2 hours - it’s that big! We only went inside and climbed around a little bit. There was a gold statue of a Thai god or something, sleeping, in this little shrine. It was a memorable view… this sleeping God in the depths of this huge limestone mountain which was illuminated by the only bit of sun beans sneaking in the small cave openings.
Probably the biggest touristy thing in Vang Vieng is the tubing. Tons of gap-year kids get dropped off with tubes at the other end of the river, where there are bars on the water pumping dance music and lots of girls in bikinis and shirtless guys getting wasted and partying. As you tube down there are bars all along the river and they pull you in and give you free shots and stuff. And there are rope swims and trapezes from platforms all over with these drunk kids flying by. It’s really a hysterical scene, and although we didn’t want to partake, we did want to check it out. I should be clear about why we didn’t want to participate… if those things didn’t sound like enough of a reason… in town you see SO many people injured. A guy in a neck brace, a girl in a sling, lots of people with motorcycle burns and bandaged limbs. If anyone would get hurt I am certain I would so NO.
Instead we went to the Mulberry Organic Farm across the river from the tubing drop-off bar to check out the farm and then maybe spy on the tubing scene a little. After discovering yummy organic Mulberry Wine from the riverside in our sophisticated wine glasses, and proper laughing ensuing over the party people, we did exactly what I knew we would. We joined them. We joined the tubers.
Kind of. The bar we went to was pretty empty and pumping good break beat music and we had a big deck above the river all to ourselves, where we shared stories and some booty-shaking. After a beer the trapeze became a serious consideration. That shit was from a HIGH platform and I didn’t have a bathing suit, so I thought I was in the clear. Not so. Me and my cute yellow dress (which I later lost. Yes really. I don‘t know how either.) did the water trapeze and then we were joined by all these super cute Lao kids who went on the trapeze with us, laughing and smiling and having so much fun. Playing with the kids was a pristine part of a beautiful day. It helped me be a kid again. Just for those few hours. Carefree and happy.
I’m chillin in my hammock watching the last of the storm roll past and thinking how damn lucky I am. This brief adventure in my life is coming to an end, and from it I’ve learned more than I ever thought I would. I love Laos and would love to spend weeks in the backcountry here learning more about the people and saturating myself in the natural beauty. It’s an interesting time to be here because you can see it’s rapidly changing and in a few years it will be more touristy, less authentic. I know that I am probably destined to go back to business, and can only hope my appreciation for the small things, the REAL things, will continue once I have a full wallet and a small amount of time off again. Tonight I sleep in a rugged bungalow owned by a local man and his wife. Everything around me is basic but keeps me safe and happy. I pay $5 a night for this. And the reality is I am so much happier than I was when I had a full bank account and an expensive NY City apartment. I fear losing a lot of what I’ve learned here. I’ve been pulled into this life unexpectedly for a reason. To learn all these lessons. I’ve got to be a trailblazer. Continue to be, I should say. I’ve got to find ways to keep life this simple, this good. It won’t be easy.
Wow, that is a eerie statement: I’ve got to find ways to keep life this simple, this good. It won’t be easy.
Recalculating…
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Monday, April 04, 2011
I'm a Weapon of Mass Consumption
Tuesday April 5: Vientiane, Laos
I arrived in Vientiane, Laos last night after a ferry, taxi, 2 planes and another taxi. I am so glad I came here. Immediately when I got off that tiny plane into a little airport, people approached me so kindly and warm, smiling and speaking perfect English. Offering services but not being pushy at all. It’s such a stark contrast from yesterday, when I got off the ferry that took me from Koh Phangan to Koh Samui (to catch my plane up here) and was swarmed by people in company polo shirts holding up maps and taxi prices trying to get me into their overpriced taxi (which I actually did out of sheer fear).
I have coined Vientiane, “Consumption Junction.” For me. I finished my fast/detox yesterday and last night did my very best job at re-toxifying. It definitely took a pathetically puny amount to do it, but for the first time in Thailand (!!… I am sofuckingold) I went out drinking with a cool group of (22yr old) kids and then went dancing. This morning I could barely scrape my ass out of bed to have breakfast before 11. But this is Consumption Junction. We consume here. So I powered on. In the elevator I met a cool guy from Santa Monica who invited me to join him and his friend for smoke. Cha-ching! So needless to say having a great morning, feel great and recovered from last night and consuming lots…. Of water. And espresso. And a yummy oatmeal raisin cooking.
The re-toxification process is well deserved though. I only did a 4 ½ day detox at Ananda Wellness Resort but it was no joke. Every hour I had to be at the Detox Bar or having a treatment, which was great because it kept me mildly busy. I’d start every day at 7:30 at the bar drinking (what I think was) a fiber drink. A hour later I’d take a handful of herbal capsules. A little later I’d have an hour massage, shake and then a colonic. The rest of the day was much of the shakes and herbs and then in the evening another colonic. I had 9 effing colonics in 5 days. If that didn’t flush out the shit (haha) lodged internally, nothing will.
On top of the regular detox I did a liver and gallbladder cleanse, and a treatment for parasites. All that means is I had a few other concoctions a few times a day. The interesting thing is I expected to feel like shit, and I never did. I mean, I was tired, yes. And one night after drinking ½ cup of olive oil mixed with lime juice, I was nauseous. Who wouldn’t be though. Other than that it was completely bearable. I wasn’t even hungry. Except the last night, knowing I could eat the next day. The little kid at fat camp came out in me and I found myself scheming to leave and get some potato chips (of all things). But I was strong!
I did dream every night about food. And once about smoking. And once that my parents bought me a house. None of that actually transpired, though. Unfortunately. (The house was super cool.)
In the end I lost 3 kilos, so about 6 pounds. Yeah! Beer belly be gone!
There was a yoga school attached to the resort and I took a couple classes, but they were 2 hour classes of the hatha nature, which means realllllly spiritual chackra stuff and standing still and feeeeeeling the energy. I love that at times but definitely not in that state.
Actually - no, I never love that. I’m lying. I get so bored. I know the point is to practice so you can train your mind to be still but I just don’t have the patience for it, to be honest. Definitely not when all the built up toxins and internal crap is pouring into my bloodstream and trying frantically to find a way out. I will say, the colonics I had after those classes were… dare I say… delightful!
The last night there the resort had a live jam-session which was really groovetastic. I couldn’t help but think of my mom and what she’d think. Sometimes I try to see things through her eyes, and I know exactly what she’d say and the look she’d give me. I am laughing right now, because I am picturing my mom’s ‘what the hell is this?’ look (which, I just realized, I copied and do the same look, so you will know hers if you picture mine). There were the African drums and a guitar played by shirtless, tan and skinny, long-haired, thai fisherman pant-wearing dudes. A sitar. A sax with a hot little lady ripping it up. And this shaman-type dude ‘singing’. Really it was more of a grunting in pitches held in long notes. Once in a while he sounded like an American Indian doing a ritual around a fire. (hOOwaaaaWhoOOooaaahhh, hOOwaaaaWhoOOooaaahhh).
Lounging around them on colorful, triangle thai floor cushions were dread-locked, happy, barefoot hippies, occasionally picking up a home-made instrument and joining in. In general, just totally blissed out zensters. The guy in front of me had this really cool piece of bamboo with (walnut?) shells roped around it so he was the cow bell. More (Cow) Shell! We were all held together by a lovely bamboo hut strung with lights and a (finally) clear sky.
My favorite though was this French guy who had a steel pipe about 3 feet long painted aqua-blue. From that he pulled out an almost identical pipe and fastened them together, so it was about 6 feet long. When he first started playing it like a didgeridoo he got my attention and immediately made me smile. Then when I thought it couldn’t be better he started beat-boxing using the mouth of the didgeridoo. And THEN he SOMEHOW managed to be playing the didgeridoo AND beat-boxing simultaneously. Brilliance!!! It’s not often I see something so unique and totally virtuoso and I was blown away.
(thank you thesaurus, ‘virtuoso’ - great word!)
I must go. Consumption Junction is calling. Ciao for now!
I arrived in Vientiane, Laos last night after a ferry, taxi, 2 planes and another taxi. I am so glad I came here. Immediately when I got off that tiny plane into a little airport, people approached me so kindly and warm, smiling and speaking perfect English. Offering services but not being pushy at all. It’s such a stark contrast from yesterday, when I got off the ferry that took me from Koh Phangan to Koh Samui (to catch my plane up here) and was swarmed by people in company polo shirts holding up maps and taxi prices trying to get me into their overpriced taxi (which I actually did out of sheer fear).
I have coined Vientiane, “Consumption Junction.” For me. I finished my fast/detox yesterday and last night did my very best job at re-toxifying. It definitely took a pathetically puny amount to do it, but for the first time in Thailand (!!… I am sofuckingold) I went out drinking with a cool group of (22yr old) kids and then went dancing. This morning I could barely scrape my ass out of bed to have breakfast before 11. But this is Consumption Junction. We consume here. So I powered on. In the elevator I met a cool guy from Santa Monica who invited me to join him and his friend for smoke. Cha-ching! So needless to say having a great morning, feel great and recovered from last night and consuming lots…. Of water. And espresso. And a yummy oatmeal raisin cooking.
The re-toxification process is well deserved though. I only did a 4 ½ day detox at Ananda Wellness Resort but it was no joke. Every hour I had to be at the Detox Bar or having a treatment, which was great because it kept me mildly busy. I’d start every day at 7:30 at the bar drinking (what I think was) a fiber drink. A hour later I’d take a handful of herbal capsules. A little later I’d have an hour massage, shake and then a colonic. The rest of the day was much of the shakes and herbs and then in the evening another colonic. I had 9 effing colonics in 5 days. If that didn’t flush out the shit (haha) lodged internally, nothing will.
On top of the regular detox I did a liver and gallbladder cleanse, and a treatment for parasites. All that means is I had a few other concoctions a few times a day. The interesting thing is I expected to feel like shit, and I never did. I mean, I was tired, yes. And one night after drinking ½ cup of olive oil mixed with lime juice, I was nauseous. Who wouldn’t be though. Other than that it was completely bearable. I wasn’t even hungry. Except the last night, knowing I could eat the next day. The little kid at fat camp came out in me and I found myself scheming to leave and get some potato chips (of all things). But I was strong!
I did dream every night about food. And once about smoking. And once that my parents bought me a house. None of that actually transpired, though. Unfortunately. (The house was super cool.)
In the end I lost 3 kilos, so about 6 pounds. Yeah! Beer belly be gone!
There was a yoga school attached to the resort and I took a couple classes, but they were 2 hour classes of the hatha nature, which means realllllly spiritual chackra stuff and standing still and feeeeeeling the energy. I love that at times but definitely not in that state.
Actually - no, I never love that. I’m lying. I get so bored. I know the point is to practice so you can train your mind to be still but I just don’t have the patience for it, to be honest. Definitely not when all the built up toxins and internal crap is pouring into my bloodstream and trying frantically to find a way out. I will say, the colonics I had after those classes were… dare I say… delightful!
The last night there the resort had a live jam-session which was really groovetastic. I couldn’t help but think of my mom and what she’d think. Sometimes I try to see things through her eyes, and I know exactly what she’d say and the look she’d give me. I am laughing right now, because I am picturing my mom’s ‘what the hell is this?’ look (which, I just realized, I copied and do the same look, so you will know hers if you picture mine). There were the African drums and a guitar played by shirtless, tan and skinny, long-haired, thai fisherman pant-wearing dudes. A sitar. A sax with a hot little lady ripping it up. And this shaman-type dude ‘singing’. Really it was more of a grunting in pitches held in long notes. Once in a while he sounded like an American Indian doing a ritual around a fire. (hOOwaaaaWhoOOooaaahhh, hOOwaaaaWhoOOooaaahhh).
Lounging around them on colorful, triangle thai floor cushions were dread-locked, happy, barefoot hippies, occasionally picking up a home-made instrument and joining in. In general, just totally blissed out zensters. The guy in front of me had this really cool piece of bamboo with (walnut?) shells roped around it so he was the cow bell. More (Cow) Shell! We were all held together by a lovely bamboo hut strung with lights and a (finally) clear sky.
My favorite though was this French guy who had a steel pipe about 3 feet long painted aqua-blue. From that he pulled out an almost identical pipe and fastened them together, so it was about 6 feet long. When he first started playing it like a didgeridoo he got my attention and immediately made me smile. Then when I thought it couldn’t be better he started beat-boxing using the mouth of the didgeridoo. And THEN he SOMEHOW managed to be playing the didgeridoo AND beat-boxing simultaneously. Brilliance!!! It’s not often I see something so unique and totally virtuoso and I was blown away.
(thank you thesaurus, ‘virtuoso’ - great word!)
I must go. Consumption Junction is calling. Ciao for now!
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