I LOVE LAOS!

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…

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!

The Movie Star, Professor and Mary-Ann...

I finally got away from the hotel I’ve been stranded and lonely in, watching the torrential tropical rains from my bungalow and feeling the huge gusts of wind rip the leaves off the trees surrounding me. Protecting me. Before I did I was able to rent a DVD player in my bungalow and I watched ‘The Beach’ with Leonardo DeCaprio, which was actually filmed in Bangkok and here in the islands in Thailand and it was fun to watch what it *would* look like here if it weren’t pouring. Crazy to believe it’s the same place. Just as crazy was looking through the brochure for my resort, Tommy’s, which appears to be at the heart of the full moon parties. These photos show tons of people partying to psy-trance on the beach, painting their bodies in glow paints, drinking buckets of coke/rum/red bull and raving their asses off. The only people I saw while I was there were the people running around repairing leaving bungalows, collecting wind-thrown trash and branches, etc. I can’t believe it was the same place!!

Today I was able to get to the other side of the island to a detox/yoga place called Ananda Wellness Resort. My taxi driver showed me the HUGE boulder that had fell, blocked half of the road and taken down the electric line, which is why we were without electricity for 2 days. The entire island is in shambles. During our drive he told me he’d never seen this before. We’re supposed to be ‘sweating our tits off.’ Ahhh how I wish we were.

I had to switch taxis at the pier (because nothing can be as smooth as 1 car actually going a whole 10km in Thailand) and there were hundreds of backpackers, hiding under roofs and waiting and trashing 7-11. They were all waiting for the boat the army was sending over to get ‘stranded’ people on the island. No other boats have been able to go back and forth for days. I later heard that boat, too, was canceled. I can hear the Gilligan’s Island song in my head. “Well sit right back and you’ll hear a tale…” I wonder who I’d be. Probably Gilligan, no? Even the army can’t help us! Shit!

So heading to Ananda’s for this detox that starts tomorrow I seriously feel like I’m checking into fat camp. And I’m acting like it, too. While I was waiting for my 2nd taxi I went into 7-11 to get tea, because that seemed like a healthy thing to do, but there was so much mayhem in there and so crazy I instinctively grabbed a bag of chocolates and in the taxi started ramming them in my mouth, barely chewing, smiling a chocolate-glistening grin with crumbs all over me. I saved half the bag and once I got in my room I shoved the rest down my throat even faster. I was manically giggling and shoving the food in. Like a fat kid sneaking food at fat camp. I’m totally serious. I’m THAT pathetic.

Since I don’t technically start until 8am tomorrow I am shoveling in some pasta and beer and will have a cigarette for dessert.

My last days in Pai kept being extended. Just when I thought I would leave the next day I reconsidered and stayed. This happened twice and I still wish I had stayed longer. Pai is a tiny little town jam-packed with hippies, shops, bars, live music and fashion victims. Like Burningman there’s a hippie fashion throughout but no one would ever claim to never be a fashion victim. Everyone’s so ‘different’ and ‘unique’ but really people start to bleed together and look the same. It’s funny how that happens. I’m a total victim of the baggie multi-colored pants and headbands, so there. All I need are some dreadlocks. And don’t think I haven’t been considering it.

The hippie laid-back vibe and interesting people I met just grew exponentially in my heart every day. Usually when I travel alone I hole up, by choice, which I did a lot there, but I also stopped to talk to people and get their stories, and every one was more interesting than the last. Even through grueling stories of losing wives to bipolar schizophrenia and things of the sort, the contentment of each individual was something you can’t explain unless you look in their eyes, or pass them in the street with a big grin, and get the same in return. Dancing eyes.

There were also the people who landed there for a 3-day visit and live there - and these people were everywhere. I can totally see how it would happen. It’s such a magical little piece of heaven. With killer drink specials, cheap yummy food, $5 massages, live music and scenic mountains seemingly surrounding Pai with a warm, cozy hug.

I rented a bike to go to the waterfall not knowing it was 12km uphill. It was over 95 degrees and smack in the middle of the day, with the sun beating down on me and the ground moving higher and higher with each step. I had to push the damn 1-speed bike about 11 of the 12km because it was so steep. It took me over 2 hours to get there and less than a ½ to get back. The waterfall was totally not worth it but the challenge was, and at least I got to justify the massage afterward.

Speaking of massages, one night I was having a massage at sunset and could hear some progressive house music and bass in the distance and between that, the vibe, the smells and the weather I felt I could have actually been at Burningman. After my massage I followed the music to - of course - a DJ from San Francisco, Max, who was planning to go to Burningman this year with nothing but his backpack full of music. It was all surreal and felt like my current life and past lives were merging. Max was one of those people you can only take in small doses so I tried talking to his friend, Constantine from Austria. I told him I was planning to go to the islands and do a juice detox for a week and he started telling me about the silent meditation retreats he’s done, where you don’t talk for 10 days and just meditate. He had me hooked until he got more preachy than informative and I came to learn he’s a healer and does 6 hours of Thai Chi a day, and basically from a whole other world than me. I’d love to be that spiritual and all of it, but it’s just not in the cards for me to be so full-on. As I listened, eyes-wide, nodding, I sucked down a rum and coke in record time and realized this was never going to lead me to inspiration. It was going to lead to a hangover.

So, aside from the passing hippies there were also the quintessential over-stacked motorbikes that I adore. My mom would have a heart attack. My favorite was the person who had their kid behind them on the seat and the dog on the front of that tiny seat made for 1. The dog was just chillin with its paws hanging over the handlebars… hysterical! Then I also saw the other tourist that found a better method of traveling with his suitcase on a motorbike. He sat behind the driver and rolled the suitcase behind the bike. Why didn’t I think if that!? There’s always the babies on bikes too, and helmets don’t exist.

The place I stayed in Pai was magical. Bueng Pai Farm, where I had a quiet bungalow on a fishing pond out in the country. It was so serene and a great recommendation from a friend. I fell asleep to the sounds of fish jumping as I lay under my mozzie net. Heavenly! They had an organic farm and served breakfast - all vegetarian and home-grown. Every day I had a fruit and muesli bowl which was to-die-for and even had popcorn in it (!) and ice shakes. One day was a Lemongrass Iced Tea, another a Mint Ginger Iced Tea. So fresh, so incredible. And the coffee was stellar. They passed the coffee test with flying tie-dyed colors.

While I was there I took a full-day cooking course at Pai Cookery. Having attempted a few times to cook Thai food I was astonished by the small details that make the whole dish. I made red curry paste from scratch, which took no less than 30 minutes of pounding out the garlic, chillis, lemongrass, shallot, coriander, galangal, kefir lime peel, cumin and coriander seeds. We also made Pad Thai, Mixed Vegis, Coconut Milk Soup and Mango Sticky Rice dishes, and ate all them over the course - and they were incredible! I have the recipes but already shipped them home. Anyone who wants them (I’m talking to you Amy!) email me and I’ll send them when I get home. During my cooking class we listened to Backstreet Boys. Backstreet’s back, alright?

A Thai woman named ‘Q’ taught the class and also showed me there are 6 different ways to write her name, each with the smallest variance in sound. It’s no wonder I’ve had such a hard time picking up the basics in Thai language! I’ve got ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ down, despite the fact I’m sure my pronunciation is wrong and I’m butchering this beautiful language to death.

A guy from Holland, Lauzars, was the only other person in my class and since we were both traveling south we have taken the train and bus together. This is mostly because he’s really clingy. Super nice, but I am traveling alone because, well, I like to be alone. Anyway… here on in he will be known as Cling. Cling from Holland.

I also met an Israeli guy (err, little boy really) named Jonathan, who I also bumped into over and over. This was one of the cool things about Pai. After a few days I could walk around and bump into people I’d met and hang out for a bit and then move on. Repeat sightings. Jonathan, aka Yonathan my Israeli little brother pot head, had scored some weed within an hour of being there and went on to make me laugh for hours. Jonny did. Not the weed. Right. Anyway I bumped into him again my last night while I was watching a hippie-esque singer and guitar duo sing Sarah MacLachlan, Norah Jones and other stuff I love. He and I shared a bucket… as in a bucket of liquor, the specialty in Pai, although that was the only one I had AND I couldn’t even get through half. Somewhere in our conversation he actually said, “You remind me of my mom.” More on being the oldest person traveling in Thailand coming soon.

A few weeks earlier Jonny fell off a motorbike and his knee split open and he knee actually popped fully out of the skin. He had to fly back to Israel for surgery and was back traveling, just like that. He is just one of a handful of people I’ve met with motorbike accident stories and yet another reason I am sticking with my two little feet to get around.

The day I left Bueng Pai Farm the lovely managers, Run and Orn, gave me a gift wrapped in a banana leaf. It was a shirt and a little bag, and made me smile ear-to-ear. The warmth I found there was incredible and since I left I still think every day how much I felt at home there.

My last night in Pai as I was walking back to my hostel I was sneaking around feeding all the street dogs some jerky treats I bought earlier in the day. I was a but tipsy from the bucket I shared with Jonny and I was sort of dancing around and loving feeding time. A guy passed me on the street while I was and I straightened up, walked not danced, hid the dog treats (but couldn’t hide my pack of new friends following me), smiled at him and whispered “Don’t tell on me.” His response was, “No, you’re like The Pope!”
I am still laughing at that. Yep, me... just like the Pope. *cough*

From Pai I took a 3-hour bus trip to Chiang Mai where I stayed at an overpriced hotel but on the best little alley there. Overpriced in Thailand is $25 a night, and I had a TV in the room. Sweet! My little alley also had a little raggae bar that was super chill where the owner played a eukaleli and served 50baht ($1.50) yummy mojitos. A few doors down was Thai Thai Restaurant. The first time I went in there the owner/cook, P-Sea (not to be confused with PC, she told me a few hundred times), sat down and talked with me for an hour. She told me the next time I came in I could order anything I wanted and she’d take me in the kitchen and show me how to cook it. And she did! And she let me videotape it (actually she insisted). She could explain all the ingredients except one, which she said she didn’t know if I have in my country. So I took a photo of this ‘Pork Flavoring,’ or in my best guess, MSG. No wonder I was so hooked on this lady’s cooking. “P-Sea,” I said, “Yes, I do think we have this in our country.” I didn’t tell her we don’t cook with it cause it’ll kill ya, though.

P-Sea also hooked me up with a discount for a one-day trek that included riding elephants, trekking, visiting a hill tribe, a bamboo boat ride, and a waterfall visit. I had a really great day because I enjoyed the people in my group. There were 2 doctors from London, a dentist and political student from Germany and a couple from Holland. It’s so beautiful that you can meet people from so far away with such different backgrounds yet share time and jokes seamlessly. So we did that day. Aside from them, I felt very sad. Talk about extreme overexposure. Those poor elephants were chained up and clocked on the head with a stick that had a metal hook on the end of it and I hated every minute of it. It was against my better judgment to go and I should have listened to my instincts. I’ve tried to do some volunteer work on this trip, helping elephants that have been rescued from these situations and I was too late to join the program. I feel shameful for spending money and ’supporting’ - monetarily - the elephant farm. It’s been sitting heavy on my heart ever since.

Back in Chiang Mai I met up with Cling from Holland and we did some shopping at the Chiang Mai night market (great stuff!) and took a night train to Bangkok to start our trip south. We decided to make a party train and brought some beers and Thai rum with us. We were being silly and dancing to cheesy pop music when we decided to go to the other car for a quick cigarette, when we encroached on the REAL Party Train to Bangkok. The dining car was packed with people, smokey and dark but with blinky neon lights and everyone was dancing to some Indian-inspired dance music. We hit the jackpot! After ordering a beer I danced with the older ladies from France that reminded me of my mom and had a perfect night of singing and dancing. Over a week into my trip and this was the first time I had a ‘night out’ of partying and it was surreal. Being bounced back and forth by the train and watching the night sky from the windows, smiling huge and shakin my butt. A memorable and needed night in Thailand.

We arrived in Bangkok right before 8am, just in time for the Thai anthem to be broadcast over the speakers. 2 people tried to stop us and I thought they were trying to sell me something so I barreled through. “Stop, please.” Then I realized this is part of their culture. 8am the anthem is played and everyone stops and salutes until it’s over. So after I finally figured it out I felt like an idiot for my insensitivity and joined in. They thanked me over and over afterward. Oops.

With a day to kill in Bangkok before a night bus south (yes, another night in transit…) we took a long boat on the river and went through some of the canals and got to see some temples, fishing villages and the river culture in general, with people in their little boats selling cokes, red bulls, hats, hand fans, etc. I will never forget one woman who approached us because I think I have never seen anyone as truly, genuinely happy as this woman. And why shouldn’t she be? She wanders around all day on her little boat meeting people and visiting friends on the canals. It makes me realize that life is what you make it. The simplest things can really bring the most joy.

I wish I could have learned more from that woman, because the rest of my day could have been great - spending a day sight-seeing in Bangkok. But I was exhausted, hungover, out of it. I wandered without looking at maps and was lost all day. I saw the inside of 2 cabs which both dropped me where I asked to be, but then I couldn’t find my way from there. I walked all day and by the time I got on the night bus I was cranky and dirty and slept all the way down.

My 6pm bus arrived - somewhere - at 6am. We were at an outdoor café covered from the rain. There we had a 1 ½ hour wait, then took a small van to another place where we waited for another bus… then that took us a couple hours to the ferry. It was Hell. It took forever. By the time we got to the ferry they were holding us because the waters were so rough. The rain was pouring and the wind was kicking. We got on the boat after about 20 minutes and for the next 2 hours we slammed through the high waves and I could only think how lucky I was for having a stable stomach, for once.

I’ve been on Koh Phangan for 2 nights now and it’s been a tropical monsoon the whole time. I am stayed at a place called Haad Son Resort and have finished 1 book and am almost through another. I have a bungalow with a covered porch and hammock. I’ve been lying in the hammock reading, chain-smoking and enjoying the sounds of the rain and wind, and the glistening, dripping tropical plants surrounding me. The food here is amazing and I had the best Thai fried Red Snapped with chili sauce in the world. The grounds are beautiful and there’s a great beach bar - with swings, hammocks, torches, overgrown palm tree shade, huts. I just wish the weather was nice enough to enjoy it! Today I am heading to The Santuary, to clean out my tar-stained lungs and exhausted liver, doing a 7-day detox cleanse and lots of yoga.

Sitting here today thinking... this is the calmest, happiest and whole I’ve ever been. What’s next?

Ode to My Mom's Piece of Mind

Dear Mom,

I have to tell you 2 of the funniest stories before I forget!

Yesterday when I was in Bangkok waiting for my train I got a knot in my stomach and realized I had to poo. I ran to the bathroom and realized I had to pay to use it. No problem, I pulled out some money (it was only pennies) and got in the cue. The line meant nothing and in order to get to the stall I needed to push my way there. By now I was sort of desperate, if you know what I mean, and started pushing my way. I was so relieved to get in the stall until I remembered where I was and that things are very different here. There wasn't a toilet but rather a porcelain hole with tracks on the side so your feet don't slip. Not ideal, but okay... when you gotta go you gotta go. After squatting and doing my business I realized bathrooms here don't have toilet paper either. They have a little squirt nozzle, like the one we used to have in the kitchen sink. Reminded me of home! Except I never poo'd in your sink. So, I removed it and squirt my butt, leaving the stall not knowing if I got it clean or dry enough to not have a wet spot on my bum. Good thing I was only getting a sleeper train and in those clothes for the next 15 hours.

Speaking of the sleeper train, it was remarkably clean and comfortable. My only issue was that I woke myself up from a roaring snore due to my dust mite allergies kicking in. In the morning I heard the guy next to me telling his girlfriend he couldn't sleep because the woman next to him (ahem, me) was roaring snoring. Oops.

Did I tell you I'm the only person traveling with a suitcase? Today it became a bit of an issue when I got into Pai and learned the taxis are motorbikes. You would have laughed if you'd seen me on the back of this motorbike... I had a huge backpack on and the driver had my suitcase between his legs. Luckily the 3km ride wasn't too bad. The roads were at least paved, even if they were hilly and covered in pot holes.

Last night I stayed in town until 10pm and decided to walk back to my country house alone instead of finding a taxi/motorbike/tuk-tuk. The countryside in Thailand is so desolate and beautiful. At one point a pack of dogs blocked my way barking but eventually let me pass. Other than that I enjoyed my night walk under the moon and stars in this foreign, far-away place.

Having a great time! See, I told you there was nothing to worry about!

Love, Me

Singha and Cigarettes

Hello from Bangkok, Thailand… the creepiest city I’ve ever been to. I arrived after midnight 2 nights ago and had a pre-booked hotel that I chose based on the Lonely Planet guide. They recommended the area I stayed in since it was one of the closest to the airport, even if is was some 35km away. The neighborhood is called Sukhumvit, or in English: Hookerville.

The hotel itself was fine and there were a lot of upscale hotels there, but it was the things people that lined the streets that made me uncomfortable and gave me severe anxiety. This neighborhood had small alley-like roads lined with vacant construction sites, 7-11s and massage parlors, and flooded with tuk-tuks, taxis, cars, bikes, people, dogs, cats… you name it. I don’t mind playing Frogger and coming from NY the traffic doesn’t really phase me. So I will focus on the other parts.

The main road was lined with shopping booths jammed into every inch selling random (cool) things, like light-weight comfy pants, t-shirts, thai god statues, fruit (coconuts with a straw - love!), hand-carved wooden dildos (really.), etc. And between the booths are some of the most beautiful young women dressed in the highest heels and shortest skirts. Around them I was invisible but the old white men were not. Let’s just saw the term ‘street meat’ took on a whole new meaning for me.

A handful of friends gave me tons of recommendations before I got here and one was to eat the street food. So I hunted down some street food and realized a English-speaking vegetarian with high food preparation standards is in for serious trouble if I’m going to venture to street food land. After my first attempt was made with (mystery) meat (that had been pre-cut and piled in plastic shopping bags sitting in the sun) a nice young Thai person helped me explain I wanted only vegis. The food lady had no problem with that and was more than happy to not clean the wok or use a different prep plate and make me vegi fried rice. Sweet.

While I was waiting for my rice this beautiful Asian woman dressed in high heels and a tight dress walked up to the booth and told her gorgeous daughter to say hi to the food lady. I couldn’t believe the eyes that were sunken into this stunning woman’s face. To say they were red and bloodshot would be quite an understatement. They looked more like they had been removed from her face, scrubbed with a brillo pad, and replaced. I’ve seen a fair share of people drugged up and this even shocked me. I think the most surprising part was that other than her eyes, she was perfect. Her hair was done perfectly and she had lovely posture. It was just… sad.

Okay so for the rest… I made a list of things that made an impression on me. Here’s that list:
- Massages. Everywhere, and CHEAP! I got a 1 ½ hour Thai Massage - probably the best I ever had - and it cost me about $12. Then later, when I was too nervous to go anywhere else, I got a 1 hour foot reflexology massage that cost about $10. Both in the same day. That’s how I roll.
a. Oil massages. Usually only about $3 more than a regular massage and are offered everywhere. They include a happy ending. I still haven’t figured out if it’s just for men, but I’m not about to try to find out.
- Old white men with gorgeous, young Thai girlfriends everywhere. Hey, I guess if I was a lonely old man I’d pay for it too. A week with one of these sweet little ladies has to be less than what they spent on meds each week.
- Very scared skinny dogs. There are more cats than dogs but the dogs all look horrified. I tried to buy dog treats but apparently they don’t sell them here. I walked down a street and found 2 dogs seemingly attached at the ass, under the tail. Like seriously attached. They moved together, together. I was seriously wondering if they were trying to protect their butts from the horny old white men.
- 7-11s are on every block and I can’t understand what any of the snack food is. All the labels are in Thai and have little cartoons on them. Where US 7-11s have gum on the counter, Thai 7-11s have KY Jelly.
- The only way I was able to settle down and calm my anxiety was Singha and cigarettes. I plan to use this tried and true method when necessary. Actually a Long Island Iced Tea (of all things - yes - I really did order that in Thailand) and a cigarette also worked, so I will keep that approach as back-up.
- English… not widely spoken! I know that shouldn’t be a surprise but I really just thought that since it’s such an international, large city it would be spoken more. Wrong. Oh, and signs in Thai are impossible to read if you don’t know Thai. Again, I should have expected it but I didn’t. As the only western woman on one of the alleys I was walking down a frustrated woman ran up to me and asked me, “Do you speak Australian?” I was very proud to be American at that moment.
- Speaking of Americans, why do so many older Americans travel to foreign countries wearing the American flag or camouflage on their shirts and belly bags? I just don’t understand it.
- The first person I spoke to when I arrived was my cab driver, who tried so hard to speak English to me but I couldn’t understand much. I did understand when he told me some of the streets were flooded. He said, “You know flood?” I told him I did. Then he said, “What the flood?” and laughed for the rest of the trip repeating it over and over. What the flood?

After a good sleep (thanks to that LIIT) I checked out today and got lost in Chinatown and I LOVED it. I’ve been in Chinatown in NY and SF yet this one was super exciting for me. The streets were also filled with speeding cars and tuk-tuks and lined with little shops and and street food but here it was much safer and more pleasant (I.e., no hookers. Visible). Chinatown is a maze of little streets with stores that sell shoes, DVDs, stickers, purses, hair bows, gold-plated coffins, gold necklaces, giant bags of mushrooms and rice and Chinese food.

After a day getting lost in Chinatown I’m sitting in the train station waiting for my overnight train to Chang Mai. I had some time to kill so I got a $5 1-hour foot massage and a $2 Pad Thai. I have the softest feet in Bangkok.

February 8, 2011

It is absolutely impossible to paint the picture of what I see and where I am at the moment. I am in a pretty blue and green striped hammock in the shade with tiny pieces of warm sun poking through the surrounding plant life and hitting me softly, on the face. On an arm. There is a lovely warm breeze that fevers up the treetops so they craft a beautiful symphony - combined with the cacatas cherps - of openness, nature, peacefulness, joy and hope. I am in Hopewell, which is on a pretty desolate coast along one the hundreds of little sounds and waterways that make up the Marlborough Sound on the northern part of the South Island of New Zealand. Are you keeping up??

I am overlooking calm turquoise waters that look only like the waters I’ve seen in the Virgin Islands. But the rest of my view looks worlds away from the Caribbean. As it is.

Luscious mountains surround me as far as I can see in every direction beyond the sound. Only a few homes sit on these hills and the rest is untouched exquisiteness. I can see a boat that’s been brought onto land but that is really the only sign of human life anywhere. There are luminous birdsongs and one lone seagull suspended in the light winds at the shoreline.

Inside my little hammock I am on my laptop (!) (SHAME!) and enjoying a glass of New Zealand Pinot which tastes lovely, as the lightness and delicateness of the wine perfectly fit in with my surroundings. I am reflecting on the kayaking we did this morning on these lovely waters.

This is a stark contrast from last night. After taking a 3-hour windy ferry from Wellington (on the southern tip of the north island) to the south island we drove into the sounds to a basic campsite which offered a flat place to sleep right on the waters and a picnic table. The rest we had to wing, which would have been much easier if it didn’t start downpouring right after we erected the tent in the early afternoon. Being the master campers we are we were perfectly protected from the cyclone surrounding us in Dean’s huge rain-proof, yet incredibly well-ventilated, tent. From what I could tell the well-ventilated part was a huge selling point for him, so I’ve got to give a shout-out to the ventilation. Woop woop!

We went to sleep pretty early, as we have been so far each night, and also woke up before 7... AS WE HAVE BEEN. This is nonsensical for me because I love to sleep late. But even on Sunday I woke at 6 and went for a jog to watch the sunrise. What the hell is that all about!?

Speaking of, Saturday we were in Rotorua (N Island) and went to a great festival, Raggae-muffin. The raggae was really good and while we grooved I sat in slight culture-shock (really culture-adjustment that overwhelmed my thoughts). It was mostly early-20s Mauris (Mauris are the ‘Indians’ of New Zealand and in Rotorua 35% of the population). They look Hawaiian a bit. They are beautiful and dark-skinned with beautiful features. The women have really big bellies. The men seem much skinnier and toned than the women. Another score for me. ;)
There we stayed in a hostel that was noisy all night and reminded me I’m old.

I am traveling with a very handsome Dean who I met in Barcelona through my friend Richard in October. We don’t know each other well and I swear if you bumped into us here, in this blue-green water-surrounded heaven, you’d never know we were nearly strangers. Traveling with anyone is a bit scary, and traveling with someone you just got a good vibe from can range from really fun to suicidal. Luckily we are floating on the really fun side and we are enjoying the easiness of being remote with nothing scheduled… no where to be, no one to see, nothing to do… our only task is to enjoy every moment and every piece of this earth we are exploring, and to laugh, respect, and relax. And for that, I am so grateful. And putting away the technology.

Peace xo

January 17, 2011

I’m sitting on a Lufthansa flight from Orlando to Frankfurt, and then BCN. 2 glasses of wine and a xanax in and my heart is still aching. I had a great time with my parents, spending a month in Hernando with them, living in their rental house with my puppy and kitty. My heart breaks leaving all of them. Although I didn’t grow up there, it is my ‘home’ in the states now, and after this month it really does feel like home. Waking up, walking the dog, then stopping in to see my parents and have a coffee. Then going back to my place and going for a hike with the dog. Then going home, cooking something super healthy and fresh. Then heading to the rents for happy hour, which sometimes starts at 3. I guess this is what life is like when you’re retired. Unfortunately my mid-life crisis and pseudo retirement is ending soon since I don’t have the savings to do this forever. But I do have a lot to look forward to and now I know. Doing yoga overlooking the slowly flowing lake, with birds bobbing for food while the dog looks ridiculously confused at me and then gently sniffs and licks me while I’m trying to meditate. It really is a little piece of heaven.

Tomorrow I will be in a new apartment I’ve never seen in a new neighborhood of Barcelona. I love change. Today my feelings are bittersweet. I am pained but what I am leaving. I am a little nervous about living in a new place. I’m also pretty excited about learning about a new hood and meeting new people. It feels good to feel. I feel loved and blessed at the moment. My heart is intact. The next few months bring more travel and adventure, and hopefully love and not heartbreak. To be continued.

my last night in barcelona. for now.

it's fuckingbullshit. i am weeping like a little girl and pouting my lower lip out like it's been hit with a baseball. nothing feels sweet and buttterfly-like. it feels sad and scary because of the genuine comfort i feel in life RIGHT..NOW. it feels like the end of a play, when everyone hugs and does a full-crew curtsy for the crowd. it's astounding to look around at these people you've spent difficult and funny times with. people you started to get *at the core*, and people you let yourself just be YOU (ME) with. and the reality is, this is the end of this play. all the characters have learned their places and found a place to be comfortable and totally crazy and expressive. we know how we interact with each others' characters. we have certain ones where we have an unspoken relationship with and secretly look after, love, flirt, adore. we have others who we are used to standing in the same room with for hours each week, yet know nothing of them... or don't fucking care... and each piece is essential to the machine running properly. the dynamic on a macro level is perfection and ridiculously beautiful.

i had a series of love-at-first-sight moments here, with more people i've allowed in in a really long time. for the first time in a long time i feel surrounded by a family, a crew, and i am scared to leave it even for a day because i never want to lose what i've found here. in one year i have seen the very opposite ends of life. i've felt life-threatening despair. i found wholeness and openness. i have let my fear drive me to closeness and surrender to the intimacy and ongoing adjustments you have to succumb to in order to have tranquility flowing melodically. that would be seriously scary perfection if you get all that to jive constantly and in unison. i'm proud i've just swam in the waters.

it's insane that so much happiness can bring forward such a sadness. i guess i've actually found 'home.' for years i've been looking for a place to want to root down. i have definitely, completely found it in barcelona. i have a long way before coming back and finding my next HOME, and rekindling my friendships i've gone without for months (um, ok, a shot a jaeger and we'll be half way there... ;) ).

i also have a chest full of love for my new venezuelan brothers. i haven't shared an apt with people in a long time, and these boys had their moments... but when i think of them i think of all those evenings on the beach, singing and laughing, and always knowing they would take care of me first and foremost. i found myself somewhere between a girlfriend/sister/mom figure with them, and they let me in... even when i convinced them to change the wall color, furniture and lighting. they helped me with everything. they loved me from the moment i arrived. i don't ever expect to find a roommate situation like this again. and this is just another reason i sit here so melancholy tonight. ((poor me)) ((sorrrrrrry))

The Beatles
Lennon/McCartney

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.

There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

Tomorrow is my birthday. For some reason this always is the most depressing and lonely day of the year, without fail. I am ALWAYS proven a total ass for these feelings, but the day before my bday I wonder who, or if, anyone really loves me. It's really very narcissistic I think. Last year I remember sending people bday messages on Facebook in the weeks before my birthday, thinking and hoping they would in turn remember me on my day. It's so stupid and crazy!!!! That is retarded!!! It reminds me of the Xmas card dilemma I've always watched my mom get cockamamie (that’s a mom word and I love it!) about: Well I wasn't going to send THEM a card because 2 years ago they didn't send US one but 2 days before Xmas I get THEIR card, so I HAVE to get one back to them today....

Part of the difficulty with constantly moving around is that I also constantly feel farther away from people I've fallen deeply in love with... and I've lived in so many cool places and befriended a ridiculously brilliant and dazzling group of friends... how can I not feel lonely without them!?

I do hope I am remembered tomorrow but I am taking this brilliant opportunity today to sit back and watch as the clock ticks closer and closer to midnight, when my bday starts, and allow the deepest gratitude to enter my heart. I have the most incredible family. My parents, brother and Dez and Alyssa and Tesa are all hysterical and entertaining and loving. They will always tell me what they think, and it’s usually worlds away from what I think, but I love them for caring enough to do that. And for loving me when I take my own path anyway. :)

My SF friends feel farther and farther away these days, yet I am living a lifestyle many of them did during the time I knew them, and now I *get* it. My SF friends made me easy-going and excited about life. They gave me the tools to love on a deep level and divulge my deepest secrets, knowing it will pull them closer if I do so. Not all friends can offer this. Shit, most can’t. The SFers are still the most creative, friendly, gratifying, effortless, lovely, eccentric, blissful people I know. When I lived there lots of them were enjoying the dot-com bust and living the unemployed (or funemployed, really) lifestyle while I marched with the ants day after day. They would tell me about how they really learned to enjoy life while they were unemployed. They did things they never had time for before, they sat in coffee shops in the middle of the day and read, they stayed out all night dancing, they wandered our lovely city aimlessly. At the time my corporate-fueled mind thought it was all so pointless. And now I am reminded what a young soul I am. Patience, young Grasshopper.

My Seattle friends have all moved to SF for the most part, and while I saw that coming it makes my thoughts of Seattle slightly vacant feeling. The most extraordinary people I’ve ever met took me in as a favor to a friend I met once. The arms of like 30 people opened wide, gathered me and surrounded me and made me part of the soup. We lived together, created mind-blowing shit together, cuddled together, partied together, questioned and explored shit together, laughed a LOT together, gussied up in awesome costumes and shook our little asses till sunrise. Now they all have babies. And there are us few stragglers watching the coolest people on earth raise the coolest little kids on earth.

My NY friends are only a handful, but they are immensely compassionate and intimate, and they were my allies during a very dark time for me. Today I wish I had been able to enjoy life more when I lived in NY so I could have spent more time loving my friends there. They truly loved me despite my constant efforts to push them all away.

Here in Barcelona I have a place I can go where everyone knows my name.

Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got.
Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.

Wouldn't you like to get away?

Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name,
and they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows
Your name.

Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
You want to be where you can see,
Our troubles are all the same;
You want to be where everybody knows your name.

It’s 12:13. Feliz Cumpleanos, conmigo. Life has been good to me!

Today was one of the most difficult days I've had in months. I sat in my Spanish class with a coffee in me and ready to participate and get in action. But when I sat down I felt like a blank page. I watched each of my classmates in our horseshoe of those student desks, with the chair attached to the desk, and for some reason couldn't understand anything around me. And what's worse was that all the other people in the class were speaking conversationally and putting sentences and grammar together (like they should be after taking a couple months of classes). And I couldn't put together a basic sentence.

I put giant, blinding walls around me but I could still see my body language from the others' perspective... I felt and looked so embarrassed, frustrated, angry, stupid and mortified. I was unconsciously pulling in my limbs and muscles, trying to be like a little beetle playing dead.

I rode the subway to the other side of the city and then home. I thought about how if no one spoke in this subway, you could forget you're surrounded by people you can't actually communicate with (verbally). City people in every city have a common thread. It may be in the clothes or the attitude or the dynamics. I am reminded... we are One World. I need to remind myself that I am trying to bring myself closer to the rest of the world and it's fucking hard. But I am here, and I am trying. And today was shitty.

On a last note, tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the US. I have a huge meal prepared for my friends here and want to share with them the warmth you have during this holiday in the states. I am looking forward to waking up tomorrow and seeing this world through lenses that highlight generosity, love, friendship and all the incredible things I've seen and done this year. WHAT. A. YEAR!!!

I never stopped writing...

... I just stopped sharing. Sorry!

October 14.

It was no mistake that I came across “Eat, Love, Pray” when I did, and I believe it was the works of the universe that brought the book to me. Twice. After reading it the first time I opened a part of my mind I needed exposed in the worst way. A part that would enable me to leave Jeff despite the ‘perfect life’ I thought I wanted and created. A year later I would learn I could more literally run away, and it would be in search of the life I never thought I could have - but had to find. It is months later that I am learning again from it… that running was the easy part. Forgiving myself for it was harder. Yet, forgiveness turns out to be easier than expected, and has lead me to a new place I have yet recovered from. The ability to attach again. Whether it be because I am scared or, well, scared… I guess I know the truthfulness that is today.

The past years were a culmination of everything I had always worked towards. Or so I thought. Like Liz in the book, I worked hard for the perfect life. I thought I wanted to spend my weekends in Home Depot. I had the home, the nice guy, the dog and cat. We spent our weekends in, cooking, relaxing together. I guess a part of me really did want that. But there is so much more that I wanted, that I felt was lost or never achievable. It was like if I had all these things I was supposed to have, I wouldn’t care to think about everything else that was out there. The beautiful places I had never been. The lives I’d never live. They all seemed so romantic in thought. But wasn’t what I had romantic? Wasn’t it the life I always wanted?

No. Simply, no. It’s taken years for me to come to terms with that and I still struggle every day trying to find that balance. The balance of the romance and love with the self-exploration and constant reservations I have about living a life under other people’s terms. The balance. It’s so hard to find.

I saw the movie today. I sat alone in a theater in Barcelona. I never once felt a sorrow for being alone, or a yearning to have company. That feels really fucking good.

I cried a lot watching the movie. I did out-loud when I wanted to. Maybe it’s because I could relate so much to what I was watching, and so much more-so than I even realized. I think a large part of my subconscious paid close attention to the book, in a deep far-away place internally, and it drove me to make a lot of the decisions I have made. Just as I am a marketer’s dream, I guess I am also a dreamer’s apprentice.

In the book/movie this woman moves to Italy knowing shit Italian and finds herself alone, yet less lonesome than she’d felt in years. She opens herself to new friends. New realities, like living in a home with cracking walls and old ceilings that are being upheld and supported by the smallest - and most exposed - protection. In just writing that I find a lot of irony in that. My home was always sturdy. This never mirrored my connection to my soul. In fact my soul was sitting on thin steel beams, and one small fracture would bring the whole house down.

But it didn’t. And somehow finding myself in places where the walls are thin, or sometimes even destroyed, my soul found a solitude. Staggering. Extraordinarily, genuinely, staggering.

Sitting here today I adore each day. I wake in a different place and walk the streets, stunned by the beautiful architecture that surrounds me. I meet new people who I learn from every day, even if - or especially if - it’s over a pint of beer next door to my flat. I see the world through more innocent eyes, eyes that have seen sorrow and have been revitalized.

What I’ve learned today is to continue ‘running.’ With each step I am finding another piece of myself I thought were only that of another romantic dreamer. I am so grateful. I am so fucking grateful.

Barcelona is being so good to me. At the beginning of the month I had 4 days here solo. I met a bunch of great people who were so nice to me and took me out for some crazy fun nights. Then the beautiful Americans rushed in. Enter Amy, Matt and Michelle. I'm staying in a 2-bedroom flat which was perfect to house all of us. We prepped and headed out to No Where, the Spanish Burningman. We met Shannon and Brian - my friends from Seattle who I burn with - and then made our camp a home. They came up in a caravana and built a rockin shade structure and costume closet and did all the food shopping. The next few days we pigged out on their awesome prepared foods and bbq'd and danced around in costumes - or, errr, naked - and celebrated life a la Burningman. I thought I'd meet a ton of people from Barcelona but I think I met one. Most of the people there were from other European countries - England and Germany mostly from my perspective. While Burningman is 30-40,000 people this was about 500. It was CUTE. I met a lot of people who I was able to see again and again day after day - something that's just not possible at Bman. It was HOT. I'm talking 110 degrees plus every day with high humidity. As a veteran burner I am embarrassed to admit I got heatstroke and had a full day sick and trying to rehydrate. We all did so some extent. There was a creek close-by and that was a miracle. I don't do shared water but after Africa my views have softened on that type of thing and spending an afternoon in the creek was a hell of a lot better than sitting, roasting in the heat.

Fast forward, back in BCN, I lost Michelle to the states 2 days after we returned. 2 days later, we lost Matt. Amy's been with me the past week and will be here another, and it's great spending so much time with her. After not living in SF for 5 years I haven't had a lot of time to be with her day after day. I feel so lucky to have her here. This week I realized I need to get serious about finding a flat for the next few months and Amy jumped online, posted ads, answered them, made appointments, and today - we scored me a flat!!

I'll be living a block from Segrada Familia which I think is considered the neighborhood Gracia. It was really funny because we saw this place first today. There are 2 brothers who are spanish that live there. They are the cleanest men I've ever met and were offering me everything... they'd move out of the biggest room if I wanted it... they'd give me an extra shelf in the fridge if I needed it... they'd let me have the extra 1/2 bath if I prefer... I know it may sound like it could be sketchy but they are seriously the nicest most laid-back people ever. After seeing that apartment I went to a very SF-like renovated warehouse that couldn't have been farther from the opposite of option 1. Here lived a British Dj/promoter/artist. The warehouse space was funky and cluttered and built piece by piece. A make-shift loft here, a plywood table, awesome spraypainted/graffiti 'art'. To get to my room you'd walk out the back door to the backyeard and walk up stairs to a loft-like huge room. The floor was slanted about 15 degrees to one side but it was big! But to go to the bathroom I'd have to go outside, down the stairs and back inside. And the bathtub was hidden by this door that would pull out - like a secret door - and expand into an L shape to hide the tub. With no lighting, but the ceilings were high enough you got light from the rest of the place. And they had a dog that looked so much like Sadie. The decision between what was literally black and white was tough. Party Suzi really wanted to live in the artist space. Good Girl Suzi kept thinking how nice and clean option 1 was, despite being a bit boring.

Good Girl Suzi took over and I know I made the right decision. It was an interesting battle internally though. I was literally at a crossroad, looking down two very different paths. But I decided to go with what was more challenging (funny as that sounds). Live with people who will only talk Spanish to me, who will watch over me and be sweet. So I waived Adios to the party side. I feel like I made a very adult decision. A reason to celebrate! ;)


The truth is, I needed to take this path. When I was depressed and suffering having to go to work every day I thought that what I really needed was to live without responsibilities. To have time to do nothing, because then I'd have time to do the more important things. But what have I been doing? Sleeping late. Getting up and having a big meal. Walking around. Maybe sleeping more. Drinking. Eating. Repeat. I would have never thought I'd say this, but it's getting a bit boring. I need more structure and routine. I need a yoga class I can go to every day - desperately. I need some sort of responsibility. I need something to get me up in the morning. This is the relaxation I was needing but I'm right on the edge of sheer lazy. Life anywhere - even in Spain - without meaning is just meaningless. I think it's a good thing I feel this way. My closeted ambition is kicking me in the ass and reminding me every day that I need more in life to tick.

So next month is a new start. I don't regret this month of gluttony. Having friends visiting is awesome and I just couldn't try to focus on anything but them while they've been here. So I will drink my wine at lunch. I will eat my dinner at midnight and proceed to drink more. I will sleep in and when I wake I will lazily roam the streets of Barcelona, grateful that I have mi amigos aqui. And soon a new adventure will start. I will actually learn to communicate here. I will take care of my body again. I will find ways to give to the community. It's in me. It's just on hold. And for now, it's magic. :)

July 2, 2010

I smell like a gorilla. Joking but only sort of. My scent has changed since living in Africa and I can only relate it to that of gorilla.

BUT I am in Barcelona now and ridiculously contento! My flat is in the middle of El Borne with everything at my doorstep. The woman renting me her place has been amazing and has took me all over the hood showing me where I can find everything I need. MARIA is fucking crazy amazing. She's introduced me to her friends who are welcoming and funny and warm and incredible. I keep worrying I may have a heart attack because my heart is so powerfully beating and open. A deep breath, a smile. So muy contento.

June 29, 2010

Today my feat was not feeling ill after any meal. it's been at least a week since i could say that.

my week in kenya was so magical and yet i am consumed with my memories of feeling so sick. i don't even think i can conjure up the many thoughts i had, which is disappointing because the wildlife and good company was unsurpassed. 16 lions - 13 cubs with 3 moms. if i could only find the words to explain how my heart was full...

i was cared for by my guide and the people at the camp in ways i don't even know. in and out of sleep i'd find a plate of food with someone encouraging me to eat. i'd have a few bites, fall back into deep sleep, be awoken with a plate of fruit and a friend asking questions and trying to translate the mumbles and hand gestures coming from my sad pile of blankets and pillows. i understand how people die from malaria. or whatever parasite that was. it was the first time in years i couldn't help myself even if i wanted to and when i stood up i was lighter than myself, sort of floating in a blur. i felt closer to being an angel than i did a human. or a soul, is what i should say. my soul was who i was. i was lucky not to fall over because my legs were soft and i was disorientated.

my days since have brought me to amsterdam where i am staying in a luxury room booked on points. the first thing i did was take a hot bubble bath and i slept about 28 hours last night. outside of that - i'm in amsterdam... life is ridiculously perfect. wake, walk around, love the little canals and people on bikes, walk, people watch, cobblestones under foot, sit outside of a small cafe and have a mineral water, watch, walk again, observe the many bikes that go by and the interesting people on top of them, pop into coffee shop, chill and be chatted up by young stoner boys and rastas, walk. sit outside, eat thai food. walk. stop and have a heineken. read. walk. repeat. i have 3 days to do this and can't be happier. so many tiny little alleys and canals to cover - HEAVEN.

Today I weighed myself three times. The first time put me 10 pounds under what I was in Uganda. The second, 7 under. The third, 5 under. My body perception has been one of the more interesting things for me on this trip. For over a month I didn't have a full-length mirror and only looked in a tiny compact mirror once every couple days. I have never felt as confident as I did those days. I was active and in the sun and nature and felt I shed pounds, had been blessed with good hair all of a sudden and looked fit. I've had a difficult few years and haven't felt fit or thin in a very long time. In fact I have been stupid critical during this time. But I feel different. I feel fit, good.

Funny enough when I had my first look in a mirror after over a month I looked like I did the last time I saw myself, and not the little twig I was making myself in mind. Not the perfectly messy 'do' I expected. I was the same Suzi I was months ago.

I've learned from this. What a fucking lesson. When you know how critical you are of yourself, can you change it? The view comes through your eyes, not a mirror, doesn't it?

My last note has to address the sunset. As I've been on the equator for a month I am conditioned to expect the sun to set at 6 or 7. The sun in Amsterdam during the summer sets around 11. It took me a day and a lot of confusion to figure this out. Viva LIGHT!

Malaria

If I could define malaria it would go something like this.

Malaria, n. (fucker): a demon that is inserted into your veins by an evil mosquito. Said demon will take over for a full 7-hour night and eject every drop of liquid and solid possible out of your body, leaving you shaking, dizzy and sweating.

Synonyms: beastly, calamitous, corrupt, damnable, depraved, destructive, disastrous, execrable, flagitious, foul, harmful, hateful, heinous, hideous, iniquitous, injurious, loathsome, low, maleficent, malevolent, malicious, malignant, nefarious, no good, obscene, offensive, pernicious, poison, rancorous, reprobate, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, spiteful, stinking, ugly, unpleasant, unpropitious, vicious, vile, villainous, wicked, wrathful, wrong

i threw up over 25 times my bad night. quite honestly i don't believe it was malaria. i think it was a parasite but not malaria. but i spent 5 hours on a table in the clinic getting pumped fluids and meds intravenously and the doctor there said so. i have been disagreeing for days but in any case it totally sucked. my waistline is happier.

June 21, 2010

“When you leave make sure you lock the tent because there are monkeys and they will come in.” This was what I was told when I arrived here today in Amboseli, Kenya. I flew out of Kampala at 5 this morning and was scooped up at the airport (by a tour guide waiting at baggage claim holding my name… I love that, it makes me feel important…) and driven southeast of Nairobi about 3 hours, again in a safari van that felt every bump on the sometimes paved/most of the time not/corrugated gravel roads. Nairobi is much more developed than Kampala was and there were some stretches of the road that were actually like US-standard roads - the first I’ve seen in East Africa.

My last days in Kampala went too quickly. As the end grew nearer the guys in the house started asking when I’d be back. Besides Justin there are 2 men - Anthon and Michael - who work as staff and guard the home, clean and make dinner. And then Brian was there a lot too. I felt really sad leaving them. They started to feel like family to me. Brian with his crazy outbursts of energy and dancing, Anthon with his respectful and shy presence always checking on me, Michael with his huge smile and cute laugh, and Justin, my fellow former San Franciscan, changing the world and hunting for a good woman. They kept me entertained and safe. I grew to love them.

Michael came to Kampala with Justin 2 years ago. Prior to that he was his security at his home in Mbale. He is going to vocational school for auto-mechanics and studies harder than ever saw any American. He is born and raised in Uganda - in Mbale I think. He shared a lot of stories with me, and there’s one that is now imprinted in my memory.

To understand this I must mention that crime in Uganda is very low, and this is mostly because even petty crime is not tolerated. For example, if you steal anything - a bottle of soda, a pack of gum even - they can kill you for it. And they will!

Michael told me about a guy in Mbale who stole a bora bora (taxi motorbike). They chased him down and beat him up. Then they tied his arms behind him and forced him to drink gasoline. When they were done they poured the rest over him and set him on fire. He said this laughing. He’s seen this with his own eyes, more than once. That still disturbs me so much, this image. It’s no surprise crime remains low.

There are a lot of things, besides the boys, that I will miss about Uganda . Here are some, in no particular order:
... Power outages. We had them a few times a week and would light all the candles in the house and proceed as if nothing changed. I adore living by candlelight and seriously think I could live that way forever as long as I could have 1 outlet to charge my ipod and laptop.
... Bare feet. I personally like flip-flops but there is something about people walking on the roads barefoot that feels so primitive and natural.
... Sleeping under a mosquito net. You have to put the net down every night to refuse the mosquitoes (aka ’Mozzies,’ my personal favorite nickname) their favorite amusement, buzzing in your ears while you sleep. It also protects you from Malaria. I quite like being in my little netted cocoon. It reminds me of being little and making forts with couch cushions and blankets.
... Roosters. There were 2 of these fuckers living on each side of my bed, it seemed. Every morning they’d rooster back and forth as soon as the sun started coming up. Despite my ‘no killing animals’ rule I seriously thought about killing those fuckers. Funny enough, by my last week there, I grew to like the sound and be able to sleep despite them.
... BAAAAAAA. There was a sheep right outside our gate that sounded literally like one of my friends playing a joke on me and very poorly imitating a sheer and yelling BAAAAAA.. I think I laughed every time I heard it, which was maybe up to 50 times a day.
... Walking through the shower to get to the toilet. So was the setup in my house. You’d open the bathroom door and to your right would be a showerhead and knobs, directly in front was a shower curtain, and behind the curtain a toilet.
... In-home full-body massage: $10 (no happy ending, thankyouverymuch), includes story about how massage therapist's dad was a successful businessman and had 32 wives.
... Peeing in a hole. Public bathrooms outside of the nice restaurants and bars have just a hole in the floor. It turns out I am a master shooter.
... Potholes. I will miss the absurdity and continuous bumps that were part of every car ride.
... Waiving, smiling kids. Although at times I felt a “Miss America Complex,” one of my favorite things was running in my neighborhood past the many, many little kids who would see me and run towards the road, smiling big and waving, yelling “Mozungu!!!!” During my 30 minute runs I think I’d smile and wave to a group of children at least 50 times. I’d wonder who the hell I think I am running through their neighborhood, smiling and waving like I was my own little parade. Hence, Miss America. But their smiles were so big and genuine that I didn’t care if I looked like I should be in a prom gown in the back of a convertible. I smiled big and waved and carried on, each little group of kid making me even more content.
... Cows and goats. I really like living in harmony with the free-range farm animals that sit in the middle of the road and just stare at you when you want to get by.

And so tonight I am out of Uganda, out of the city, and laying a bed in candlelight, under my mozzie net, surrounded my a canvas tent and beyond that a symphony of crickets listening to some jackals cackles that sound very close, in Kenya. It feels great to be out in the wilderness again and breathing such fresh air.

June 14, 2010

Where to start? So much has been going on. I’ve just returned from a 5-day safari trip to western Uganda. We went to track the mountain gorillas, of which there are only around 700 left. They are in Bwindi National Park, about 7 hours from Kampala. We had a great tour guide - Dominic - who drove us and set everything up for us… which was really important because driving ourselves there would have been painful. Uganda roads suck. I thought it was just Kampala but it really appears to be the whole country. Despite Bwindi being one of the biggest tourist attractions in Uganda the road to get there is a dirt road that seems to never be maintained, so there are huge holes and washed away areas. You have to have a 4-wheel drive to get through it and it’s seriously like backroading. I think I got whiplash. This lasted HOURS!

We had a group of 8 to go track the gorillas. The professional trackers go out an hour before we’re set to leave and go to the area the gorillas were yesterday, then follow tracks and flattened bush to follow the direction they moved since the day before. They only move about 1km a day so it’s not hard to find them. Then the radio the GPS to us and we head in. The most strenuous circumstance - and yet my favorite part of it - is that we are not following a blazed path. We are trekking through the think rainforest and having to blaze our own trail. This meant a lot of falling and trees whipping us in the face and climbing steep terrain.

Man was it worth it. We were within 15 feet of the gorillas and they were HUGE!! They didn’t even pay attention to us but they knew we were right there. There is a part of me that feels awkward about stalking and gawking them in their natural habitat when they seem incredibly used to it. I realize the fees they get for guiding these treks are used to protect the existing population and conserve the environment and protection of the animals, but no wild animal should feel that comfortable in a human’s presence unless they are specifically being used for research purposes. What if a poacher treks in? They wouldn’t even run. Anyway, I am torn about the availability of these gorillas despite enjoying their brilliance. To look at their facial expressions, hands, feet, habits - they are so close to ours. I love science. It seriously bewilders me to think there’s still a question in anyone’s mind around the history of evolution.

In all we saw 5 or 6 mountain gorillas, 2 of them being babies and 1 a silverback (the dominant male, called silverback for the grey/silver hairs it develops as an adult male on its back). We watched a female try to climb a tree where one of the non-dominant males was, and the dominant silverback came running over grunting, basically saying no - that aint gonna happen! The female was obedient and came down right away. We found out the day before the dominant silverback was fighting hard with one of the other silverbacks because he was trying to ‘make nice’ with one of the younger males. Yes, that’s right - even gorillas can be gay!! Evolution, baby.

After visiting Bwindi we stayed in a local village and were drawn from our room to follow the sounds of drumming and singing. It was coming from an orphanage close-by, and we sat and watched these 50 or so beautiful children performing songs and dance. They were so cute it melted my heart. Even the littlest had soul and it seemed like it all came so natural to them. There high little voices echoed through the nearby valley and their smiles radiated my soul. They had art that all the children had done laid out, and we were able to meet the artists for each thing we bought. I hugged a little boy named Joseph who painted a gorilla on canvas that I bought, and he clutched onto me and hugged me so tight. Don’t worry, mom, I didn’t take him home. I seriously thought about it, though!

Our next 2 days were spent in Queen Elizabeth National Park where we did game drives and a boating trip. We saw a bunch of elephants, antelope, birds, hippos, buffalos and lots of monkeys. The hotel we stayed in one night - Jacana Safari Lodge - had as many monkeys in the trees as we have squirrels back home. Having never seen monkeys in the wild I was astonished, again, by their resemblance to humans. I seriously want a monkey… despite the fact that one of ones I stalked tried to pee on me from the tree.

Our last night in Queen Elizabeth was spent watching the US vs. England in the World Cup and I was sick with a fever and horrible sinus problems, but it made me feel a closeness to my friends and family back home that made me reminisce about past times and feel a bit homesick. I’ve only been out of the country for 2 months but it feels like much longer. That said I feel like I’ve only chipped the iceberg of the travel I need to do. I’ve decided to spend this week in Kampala recovering. I still am fighting this cold/flu thing. Next week I’ll head over to Kenya to do a 6- or 7-day safari, visiting Masu Mara and the Serengeti in Tasmania. After being out of the city for a few days I’ve realized what I learned in Botswana - that the more desolate a place I am in.. the closer to nature I am… the happier and soul-filled I feel. This makes me seriously consider whether I want to spend the next 5 months in Barcelona and am considering now spending 3 months there and then finding someplace in the countryside to stay a while. It sounds silly but seeing farm animals all over the place really makes me want to have a farm with a little animal sanctuary on it. Some pet goats, pigs, chickens, cows…

I am still trying to capture the chaos in Kampala in photos but a picture just doesn’t seize it. The cars and motorcycles fighting for space on the small, pothole-filled roads that are encircled by tiny tin-roof covered shacks - all selling CRAP like batteries and airtime - and the half-naked, barefoot children playing on the side of the road everywhere and waving and smiling excitedly at you in your car. It’s a sight to be seen. The smells of diesel fumes, the sounds of horns honking, the smell of garbage burning, the seemingly infinite number of hair weaving shops, the packs of boda bodas (motorcycle taxis) waiting on street corners, the potholes, the women with babies strapped to their backs with colorful fabrics carrying huge items on their heads…

The American Embassy sits atop a large hill in the city and from it you can see a village that is clearly poorer than its surroundings. I came to understand these are the slums and had Justin put me in touch with a remarkable man, Moshen, who runs a free school for the kids living in these slums. Last week I spent 2 days over there. The first I taught an English class to kids around 13. I really have no business trying to teach. I had no idea how to, but Moshen helped me along and eventually I connected with the kids and found fun ways to engage them. The second day I helped the older kids make jewelry. As this NGO is funded mostly by donations, Moshen wants to make sure the kids don’t feel like they are being given money. He wants them to learn they have to earn things. So the kids make jewelry after school and sell it to the craft market. This is how they raise a lot of the money to keep it running. I love what they’re doing. Parents here have to pay for their kids to go to any school, which just keeps the poverty continuing generation after generation. For parents who are not educated and very poor they can’t/won’t pay for their kids to go to school. Understandable, I think. So they can enroll their kids in this program if they can’t afford it but want their kids to get a formal education and vocational training.

The school is located behind a maze of narrow dirt roads that are littered with tiny shacks, kids and chickens. It’s an area about 30 feet by 60 feet, separated by 6-foot plywood walls painted with images of elephants, Bob Marley, birds, a map of Uganda, etc, into 4 classrooms. The walls start about 2 feet from the ground and there is open air below and above them, so it’s very loud and hard to keep focus on what’s happening in your small classroom. They have a bathroom in the back, which is a new addition, but it’s all you smell. The smells of horrid feces fills the air and the lungs of the kids and they don’t even notice. As an outsider it’s all I notice. The stench is overshadowed by the privilege these kids have to actually have a small concrete room with a hole in the floor. If this doesn’t make you feel fortunate, yet powerless, nothing will.

It would be great to see more of these schools open and even better if I could find a way to help Moshen in his mission. This is a feeling I seem to be experiencing a lot here. I want to help but have no idea where to start or how to. Even more, it’s not a small task that I could give a little and walk away from. They need ongoing help and dedication. And there are hundreds of groups doing similarly extraordinary things. How to help, who to help… I’m immobile trying to find my place in all of it. For years I could have thrown money at these organizations but being unemployed and on a tight budget I just can’t right now. Or can I (says my soul)? All I have now is time to offer, and that is what I can give. I still just have an overwhelming feeling that I can do more. Suggestions welcome!

June 5, 2010

my first few days in uganda were odd for me but i think it was just because of the transition. i'm much happier now and am doing really well. it's totally different than botswana and i do prefer botswana but here i am seeing a lot of musicians and artists and breakdancers which is awesome. it is too crowded for me too. and the air pollution is outrageous. i have sat still in traffic for over 20 minutes on at least 3 occasions with deathly fumes filling my lungs. there are so many cars and motorbikes, and the motorbikes and cars and people fight for every open space in the road. the bikes also act as taxis - which i would never take - and many times there are 3 people on the bike, with one of them being a baby, and no one wears helmets. somehow everyone does move within each other so it's sort of an organized chaos but i can't figure out how it works. you have to be aggressive but not too much so. they all know the rules but i have yet to figure them out. i'm glad to be a passenger and not a driver!!

aside from the roads it's totally safe here. i haven't felt in danger at all. i don't think the people here are quite as happy as the ones in botswana but i don't see aggression either. the kids here are suuuuper happy and cute. they are everywhere and not usually under supervision or playing with store-bought toys and they are so much happier than kids in the US.

i may go to an orphanage tomorrow or if not tuesday to help teach english. i'm really looking forward to it. the kids i've met have just crowded around me and hugged me and were so sweet. they love white skin. they just keep touching it and asking questions about it. in general people admire the whites here (or 'mozungos' as they call it). it's weird. but i guess it's better than being hated! they love my tattoos too. i haven't seen anyone from uganda with a tattoo so they are really interested in touching it and trying to rub it off.

wednesday we head out to safari through sunday. we're going to see the gorillas, which i am so excited for! there are abotu 700 left living in this forest - bwindi - and they go in early to see where the gorillas are and then you treck in and spend an hour with them. they come right around you. you don't touch them but you just sit in their space as they move around you. i am sooooo excited! these are the last on earth. it's such a rare opportunity. after that we're going to some other wilderness areas to do game drives and staying in rustic hotels. should be great.

i forgot to mention that one other HUGE difference here is the HUMIDITY. i seem to be the only person who even notices it, and it is obvious that i do because i'm constantly dripping with sweat and pulling my shirt to unstick it from my sweaty body. i do not like humidity. at all.

i've been spending lots of time with brian. brian is an 18-yr old from uganda who needed heart surgery to survive last year. he approached justin last year and told him his story, and over time justin was able to get an israeli NGO agree to take him in and do the surgery. justin reached out to all of us and raised money to help with the travel costs and everything. brian stays in justin's house sometimes and is the perfect example of someone full of life. he runs around singing, dancing and laughing and it's just amazing to know he would not be here today had justin not taken him in and helped him out. he calls me aunty. it's really cute.

one bonus to being in a more urban area is there is a lot of food options. in botswana the vegis were scarce and often wilted. here the vegis are everywhere, as are the different ethnic restaurants, and i am in heaven. i've had NY pizza, ethiopian food and mexican food - and after having starches and wilted vegis - which i cooked for myself - for a month... this is heaven! the nicer lodges here also have pools and gyms, so i have taken advantage of both of them but not nearly as much as i should.

the internet as justin's house isn't working so i'm not sure when i'll be able to get back online, but know i am well fed and safe and still learning every day. i would love to share some photos of the mayhem that is the streets of kampala. soon!

May 27, 2010

My days left in Botswana are numbered and I wish I had weeks - maybe months - more here. I have not seen even a small portion of the country and I am already deeply in love with it.

Since the donkey day I’ve been busy on the farm doing labor, which ironically I really enjoy. I can remember so many days that I sat in my office with aircon watching the construction guys outside and thinking about how much harder they work than us office monkeys. It’s true, they do - and yet they are paid so much less. I understand they’re lacking education, but when I try to do any labor I realize how uneducated I am at building things, so in a lot of ways it’s the same, isn’t it? Yesterday I mixed concrete and mounted the posts for what will eventually be the gates to keep Murphy inside. Right now, every time we get in the truck to leave the camp we have to try to outrun Murphy. We go crazy fast on dirt roads to try to lose him and he always catches up. When he does we turn around and go full force towards him until he jumps into the bush and then has to try to keep up with us driving the other way. We usually lose him at this point, but we also lose about 20 minutes - just trying to get out of the farm! Hence our need for a fence.

After a morning of heavy work we went up to the art collective in D’Kar (which is pronounced with a click - then CAR. “click”-Car). They have about 10 artists that do amazing works of art right there in the studio. Some of it, admittedly, looks like kindergarden drawings, but they are meant to recrate the traditional art that’s found on ancient rocks. But a lot of it is amazing and representative of the nature and lifestyle in Botswana. I bought a few small pieces and love them.

Today we spent hours working on the farm setting up motion detection cameras. We’re doing a study to look at the holes that animals, like aardvark and warthog, dig under game fences. This is a typical way a cheetah can ‘break into’ a farmers corral - by using these pre-dug holes. The objective is to find ways to mask the holes from predators but keep them usable to the other animals. The first step is understanding what is using the holes and how frequently. The motion detection cameras are set facing the holes and take photos when it detects movement. It was a lot of hard work digging holes and erecting poles to hold the cameras. It’s such interesting work. Again I have to admit - I love the labor! I think I missed my calling! :)

Tomorrow is my last day of work with the Cheetah Conservation and I plan to take time tonight to reflect on the decision I made to come here and how much I’ve learned. I am so glad to have had this opportunity and would do it again in a heartbeat.