Ready-Set,

The journey back took longer than expected, but you can start sending me letters again.

Let me recall where I was. It was Laung Namtha. My roommate kept me up by asking me a full litany of questions about Christianity. We started with light topics like abortion, ran through the gammit with Jesus and forgiveness and ended with just a dusting on prophetic prayer. But by then it was past 1 and she had a bus to catch in the morning. So she left me, and I prayed that kind of thing about soil and truth taking root... more on that when i bring myself up to present day Easter.

The morning was nice. I don't remember anything pressing as I sat down to breakfast. The power had gone out. My laptop was being funny about charging- now we know why. I think the adapter died or got fried. Who can say. I had tea and tried to make the time pass, with nothing to do and an afternoon plane. Papaya salad. A bland pho. Then on the back of a caged truck to the airstrip. Twin engine plane sort of thing. A woman hacking behind me, setting my teeth on edge. Loud group chatting and laughing adding to the dissonance and discomfort, the slight nausea creeping in and the heat.

Touchdown.

I didn't want to bother the missionaries. So I let them be. I bravely, the 2nd time around walked out of the airport and caught a public tuk-tuk into town- the price difference being akin to something like .50c or $7. Nevermind the germans who just let me walk off and didn't even offer me a ride, and that's after I nudged them.

Anyway I met up with my Laung Prabang roomie Alex for some slight room savings, to commisserate and decompress with. I had some delicious fruit smoothies, overwalked through wats and the city heat sans my sun hat which i'd lost somewhere back wherever. I had a limp. The a/c barely worked and it got worse the 2nd night. We got a discount. I bought some paper umbrellas. I ate a stale croissant. I drank beer with my indian food. We got eaten by mosquitos. I got a skant amount of sleep. And then I was walking through the streets at dawn. I sent Alex off to get her photographs of monks on the backdrop of the Mekong Delta and i was determined to walk the 4km to the airport if I had to- but I didn't, and still paid too much or as expected, for my transport that I flagged down and at one point felt pretty sure I was being kidnapped but it led me through a neighborhood past saffron swathed holy men sitting in plastic chairs chatting with some men, your usual stray dogs, and a dissassembled manniquin stuffed under a circular picnic table, only to finally turn me back on course after dropping off cab passenger.

And then there I was in the Bangkok airport with 8+ hours to kill. I think I spent $20 on lunch and later, tea and chocolate cake. And almost came to tears as they wouldn't let me check in until 2. I read a magazine and a book, and took an hour nap on a traveler worn couch in the corner of the 3rd floor holding pen, and then on the way to taipei failed to sleep at all but watched something about marigolds and india. And then rather inocuously the next airport where i changed into another outfit and used my oliveoil infused cleansing wipes, and flossed, and took a 20minute nap in an empty waiting room themed all about the post office. After I slept a vomina pill induced 6 hours I watched two movies about skies falling and bravery. Both I felt lackluster and hardly earned sentiment, but then there it was, the plane was landing, and after hobbling to the customs line, 41 people ahead of me, my blue bag slowly chugging around, another line and a customs officer saying that I was braver than he was to have been where I have been for as long as I had been I skipped up the plank to see no one at all waiting for me as they eventually had fallen back and apparently were in a rapt conversation about the zombie apocalypse when I approached - and then they rather distractedly were like, hey! yea! welcome home! It was pretty funny.

I had really been craving fruit smoothies obviously and I found the weather freezing. But I ended up at in/out having a burger, finding my friends to be rather fatigued looking but happy to see me, Lolly detailed and cleaned, and then later balloons, a bouquet, my starbucks card with a little cash on it, and ribbon hanging here and there and everywhere. Param ran right up to me and followed me into my room. Twist fled. And marley took a bit to not be mad at me. I sat down later and played Portal which was another thing I really wanted to do with Amber. And then there it was. My first few hours back.

More on oscillating, and time warps later.
My love,
m.

 

Grit,

My dear laotong, and maybe this is perhaps where the dragon and the horse speak a different language. It's the Pam question- Why isn't being a mother enough? Now I know this is some sort of existential question, like why isn't being X enough. So I'm not dismissive of you grappling. And let's forgo that, yes you could use the money so that you're not on the razors' edge every month, AND that as a human being you need mental stimulation outside of your 24/7 never stops work as a mom. So let's just not argue those points. I get those. Absolutely. I just don't like these sorts of things tied up into your worth and ultimately your VALUE since I love my friend, I don't like to see her abused in any way, even if it's by herself- especially so. And it's good; you need to have, find those avenues in which to have another facet of your life, but not just so that it's not just (while valid) the relentless pursuit of money, or filling up time.

And as we process aloud, I did the job that most people were like really you? And I was like really me? Granted my job made it sort of a worst case scenario and I was drained 2 hours into the day and still had 3 more to go. And ultimately I do probably need to teach older kids and ones with a creative streak, but that aside- so while I encourage the stretching of borders, and I do think you'd master the kiddos, overall, I get like you, the keyword, exhausted. And the words introverted, sensitive and not brought "alive" by children in general... but your love and your boundaried hands will make you excel in the job regardless. (I do sort of see your sympathy with the kid crying in the corner. Like they're away from their moms too soon sort of thing or a general overwhelmed misplacement. But well on ya, for doing it in the first place! And you would be rife with stories. There's that. And as Bruckner said, we're not getting any younger. Oh he meant me, since I am currently lacking a family and a job. Nevermind.

I'm too busy soaking up my last days, of your aptly named garage sale that is Laos. You gotta hit at the right time and place and it's magic or it's NOT. And while Vietnam had it's fairshare of travel annoyances. I just don't know. Either way memorable ? Tomorrow I leave to Vientiane. The plane has decided there's enough people. Yesterday I actually rented a scooter- so easy on the feet, and went down some dirt roads with Elena to a not really there waterfall. Which getting up to was a bit hard on my foot as it's back to more sore than before, but the local teen set were at the top tier with their bottles of beer lao so we turned back. It was only a few hour outing but daring enough and budget right for me. Though my butt hurts from sitting on it all day. Literally. Can't believe.

What else? Yes, HOME. Yikes. I don't know. The idea of anyone picking me up besides my mom sort of unnerves me. I get so travel cranky. But it will be really lovely to have a friend welcoming party too. But then as you know, the job question looms, and just coming back and fitting back in? Church makes me nervous, like coming back from summer break and finding everything the same but not? I have anxiety over all of that. Just coming back and being adrift. I guess that feeling won't last long. Maybe I'll make a routine of job searching and going to 24f between meeting with friends. Much like my joblessdaysbefore. Down to the - no, I can't afford that. Ok processing, processing. Needing a queen mattress, a whole new wardrobe or a seamstress.

ok friend, godspeed to us both, as we cross the waters.
xo, m.







 

ooo-dumb-sigh

So I feel like all of Laos is a jungly garage sale with a lot of waterfalls? This might be my conclusion. Like a garage sale it contains some charm in the form of puppies and flowers and also the mundane - these are the trappings of our life. Buy it or not. But then there's the subplot of People Who Haggle Over a Fucking Nickel. Which are fascinating in their own way. I don't know how to explain all the waterfalls - there are just so many that have been alluded to! I feel like we could totally outline a Laotian drinking game based on waterfall references - and drink a shot! And then you'd have a solid excuse for slip-falling! oh geez. I'm sorry, my caffeinated, NOT-MORNING-PERSON (what was that proclamation, really. a lie. or a gross misrepresentation at least) brain is going off on a weird tangent. 

I told the ponies to deliver my last letter to you, but also to write it before delivering, and damn ponies. Complaints about lacking opposable thumbs and a grasp of the English language. Whatever. Unfortunately this post has to be brief because somehow, randomly and suddenly I have a substitute teaching assistant thing this morning? at the preschool at our church, to which I had expressed interest in applying to for the fall. And despite the scheduling complications with N.Lo pickup and the last-minuteness and a case of the nerves, I'm going for it because it could be a good foot in the door? Or a warning to slam it closed and run. I should at least find out either way, right? It will give me something to recap later today. And then I should probably talk some more about my birthday (notes to self) and ProRun designer travesties and whatever else -

Oh! My main reason for sad bloglack this past week or so (although I've loved hearing all your adventures as you countdown to Home) is that most of my energy is spent mind-spiraling and chewing my nails over Jobs and Life and my apparent failure at both. Never do I feel like a bigger loser when it comes to employ, whether it by my $2/hr attempts at freelancing (because that's what it works out to, always) or my weak resume or lack of wise ambition in my 20s to do something that actually amounts to anything. And now it's too late? Or is it. (I need to read Julia Child's bio - another note to self. since she started her journey to awesomeness in her 30s.) And then add to that jumping back into the world of gainful employment after a 7-year absence and it all just seems futile and completely lacking in luster or hope. Particularly when I'm not asking for much. I'm applying, for instance, to be a SpEd TA - a temporary, they emphasize, minimum wage position (but it's at K's school, so schedule would be perfect?) and I need somehow to get a college transcript. And 3 people to fill out reference forms, even though - seriously? - this is all even before an interview. Icing on the cake was emailing undergrad and being informed - you graduated so long ago that you're unable to just print it out online. Like my fucking degree exists in some dusty cave of an archive or something, and only Argus Filch has the key. And we all know how temperamental Argus Filch can be. 

Anyway - I gotta go for now. Love! You! enjoy your day or your night and remember to hold out for a cuter accent and less insobriety. 

xoxox

P.S. HD does NOT give employee discounts. We're already off to a bad start. 

Almost,

There's been a delay in post so I haven't received your last letter, if you've sent it- so i'll tell you of my last days in Udomxai (ooo-dumb-sigh)and my journey to Laung Namtha (long-nam-tah). And even though I'm not touring the landscape since I can't really see it anyway, as I'll never tire of complaining, about the haze, I suppose the most ordinary events become the experience.

Being picked up on by a sheepish and drunk French man, only to be propositioned again by an older French man named Daniel, who as he left, just had to suggest that since we were alone we could enjoy each others company together. I laughed as you know, and waved him away- it's all about approach I guess, and an accent, because in any other context I would've been like, Creep! Even now I think it's a bit outrageous, but nevermind, somehow the disarming was right so that I wasn't aghast to his face, just amused and charmed. Oh the French!

Anyway, the next day I did infact switch hotels, for the better, and a Christian family who live in Laos invited me to come with them and another couple to a waterfall (as the dad saw me hobbling by and asked what happened). The gate was locked into the preserve so we crawled under the fence, and stopped by the small river instead. We played settlers of catan and it was a funny good time playing with people who could be my parents. Though the dad was nervous I was a reporter and then the son, and his anti-LA sentiment came bristling out (with the "your kind of music" comment)- as if he's ever even met a local. I am going to be one of those people as I get older- oh I'm sorry, have you met someone from LA or just a whole bunch of people from somewhere else living in LA. It's totally different. Of course objectively going off with complete strangers, in a car, into a remote forest preserve with a hurt foot and no phone... well there's my risktaking. A benign day by all accounts thankfully, despite the dead mosquitos on my fried khiew. So I stayed on the next day, just so I could hobble to the postoffice and buy an overpriced and terrible coffee drink and get hit on again- obviously.

After that I got up and managed to walk to the bus station- grab a good seat- and met my next travel partner Elena from Ireland. Which gave me someone to widen my eyes with when we stopped in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road to let the small bus cool down- and for the driver to ask us if he could take our waters to put in the engine... um, sure. We went slow, it wouldn't slip into gear, we stopped a few more times, once the guys all got out and pushed us, another guy got a bloody nose by the side of the road and started pushing leaves up into his nostril. I handed him some tissue as the blood was leaking out of the leaves and onto everything as he got back on the bus.

Then after what was suppose to be a beautifully paved road experience of fast travel we limped into town after over 4 hours on the road- oh but no, outside of town, 10kilometeres outside of town! which to varying degrees they do this to you in all of Laos (!^*#&$(*! So that you have to bargain and usually get ripped off by these tuk-tuk drivers (who if they weren't forced into this bizarre middle man position we'd likely pay them more in the long run)- they're like motorbikes with caged wagons attached basically. So we hop off the bus and usually there's some hearty discussion and one guy quoted us a price that was what everyone pays and then another guy comes rushing over and basically ups the price by degrees and soon they're all locked into overcharging us. The maddening thing is it's only for $1 or so. That's the problem. I asked two different people, the coffee shop guy who spoke a little English and I even engaged the bus drivers help- and they all gave me these fucking sheepish grins- and assured me that I was paying the same as Lao people- 10,000.Which is about $1.2 But neither of them would interfere with the mafia. Cowards! Technically with more people the price should drop to 5,000. But the guy with the one eye, mcfuckingshifty wasn't willing to take us into town for less than 20,000 each. Keep in mind our 4 hour bus ride cost 40,000. So you can see the astronomical nature of the price. Since the trip into town took maybe 5 minutes. It was weird and unusual because neither of us would back down and frustrating because Elena was unwilling to walk or to hitchhike- since I didn't want to give them the satisfaction. And I think we were all surprised that we weren't willing to overpay.

The bus driver told us that another bus was coming- in 20minutes (read an hour later) and then they'd take us. So Elena almost caved and having her with me was suddenly extremely annoying since even with my foot I would've hobbled down the road and found my way despite those assholes. And then after another 1/2 hour there were more falang to rip off and we all were on our way. I stared daggers at the ones who knew better and if I see them again I will say shame on you and wag my finger since they knew full well they were being jerks- bcs there's always one guy with a conscience and those are the ones you have to shake your head at. Meanwhile trash is being thrown out of windows into the forests, and onto the sidewalk and at my feet at the bus station, and a guy carrying around a dead raven that his bus had hit, and what was surely going to be dinner. They're just living by a different code out here- As frustrating as it is. What can you do. You take a stand. It's usually over something fucking stupid like a $1. That's what you get for being principled sometimes, and for being too accommodating in others- Because none of it is really OK. But you try to let it be until it's just not.

Elena did get to meet some Irish people which made her happy and I was able to crack a joke saying, we almost broke up over the tuk-tuk drivers, and we'd only just met on the bus. To which they replied, that's one of the fastest relationships in history. We all laughed and met up for dinner. We walked out to see floating lanterns with a warm orange color wafting up into the night like a fairytale, and then I had some amazing papaya salad, and a not watered down fruitshake! And while the woman in the market was trying to overcharge me for bananas and another woman was eating from someone elses plate, and I couldn't help wonder what the crazy womans deal was from the last town- as she ran around as crazy people do, half exposed, and nipping off the heads of plants and wearing eccentric hats, I can't help but think, ok Laos, let's play nice. There's some charm here and there, like the woman carrying her pet cats in a bucket on her back, and the baby puppies and the flowers in bloom. You and I are going to end on fine terms. A generous breakfast, a nice hotel, cost splitting and saving with Elena. 2 or 3 more full days... depending on when the plane goes. And then Home.

Let's all take a nap and meet up for lunch.
My love to you from THIS place,
m.




 

Twists,

The moon tonight is a perfect Cheshire grin- orange from the haze of fires I'd imagine, but matching the northern star- possibly a planet? There's the sound of crickets, and earlier bats dipping in and out of view, a mouse running across the wire, various tourists with laptops like me idling in their hammocks. I'm going to attempt escape from the town tomorrow...

[having escaped] i'm about to fall asleep in this outdoor restaurant establishment called maung neau, regretting my return after my late lunch for iced coffee and mediocre fruit, and then entered Alex. Another one, but entirely different- male and french and a bit drunk. And he sat down at my table and proceeded to talk. And then after two more beers and an hour later, he asked if he could come home with me. Quite nicely and a bit sheepishly, like he just had to ask. I declined (don't tell bruckner) and kissed him on the cheek, only after my handshake didn't satisfy him. It was the least I could do- though perhaps I am already too acommadating. He knocked over his beer and I made my exit.

But more about my introduction to Udomxai after. (Ooodumsay)

First my love, happy birthday. I hope the day, along with those strangely named cupcakes, was divine. I thought of you all the while. But of course, as much as part of me demands a letter all about you, I am compelled to talk to you all about me. Though I should like to hear of your favorite moment of the day, or something small and unique, perhaps forgettable that made you smile.

For my part, the day before, my travel companions from Phonsavan suggested I join them on the 100 waterfalls trek. And I was hoping to shake the gloom and purposelessness- which really had only been maybe 3 days combined- now at least 7. Where I suddenly erase all my experiences and regret extending my vacation and focus on everything negative, and where I have as mentioned a vague sense of danger or death hovering by me, as if one ignored nudge from God and I'd meet some ill fate. So the tour was just what i needed. Our guide Home, spoke excellent english (his father was village chief, and he and the younger generation are literally trying to understand and wrap their heads around why anyone would want to visit them, he said the locals are just barely beginning to understand) and i geek out over tourguides anyway so I got to hear his story, as he was preoccupied anyway purchasing a buffalo to sacrifice to honor his ancestors- i should've stayed now that i think about it, to witness that, but nevermind. So he'd disappear to talk to someone in the village he was giving us a tour of and then explain- along with some read between the lines talk about two people groups living together, the khmu and lao- one animist tribe, the other buddhist. Of course the benefits are school for the kids and electricity... more on that when out of here.

The trek was really lovely- or at least i imagine it would've been at it's best not so far into dry season, but nevermind. We gunned it in a small boat up some, thankfully small rapids, where i immediately regret i didn't buy a waterproof bag, because seriously who doesn't think of capsizing? 45minutes later, we step up a dusty bank into a village of curious kids and somewhat non-plused adults- chickens, roosters, thatched huts, trouble making kids who when making eye contact with us would start chanting 'trung' trung'- the guide said it was their word for 'surprise' or 'WOH', sure it was. and then there was one ominous little boy who'd tied a small warbler to a string like a toy- yikes. I think it will probably come as a shock to him when it breaks. I felt like i was walking through a place in which looks fabricated and idyllic- oh look there's the blacksmith, and the basket weaver and then you're just a little bit like hmm. Let's keep moving. As cool as it was.

And then we entered the rice paddy fields- dried up and waiting for rainy season, a few water buffalo grazing, who were scared off pretty quickly by three boys who were playing with a small soon to be dead fish- we fjored streams and entered some semi-jungly bits with strange red bugs on trees, and you could see with just a bit more water how fantasitc or difficult the trek would be- i loved the variety of landscape we went through- and the waterfall, after climbing up a series of steps, was clear and refreshing- too small for the 12 of us to really get comfortable though I think we could've had we tried. There were only a few of us really into- but honestly it was at it's safest or so it looked to me- no debris, and lovely rushing water. So nice. We got out to have some omlettes with dill and spices, sticky rice, pork and bananas. And then i went into the water again and we made our way back. The guide commented that i must really like swimming, i said yes- and i'm thinking, and hello i paid to trek to a waterfall- it baffles. And then i said, and i don't get cold quickly because i'm- insulated- to which the guide quickly translated "fat". Yes. Thank you.

The irritating part of this long winded trip into the day besides having only a small knick on my shin and a tiny bruise on the side of my left foot which gives no indication to how actually hurt i am- was maybe literally one tier down from the waterfall. The ground was suddenly gone from under me and i had no idea what happened. I was speechless. They asked if I was ok, to which i said, probably not, but I'm fine for now. And I got up pretty quickly and pressed on because I knew it was going to get painful after the initial shock wore off. And it did and soon i was far behind as I popped some advil on hand, and shuffle stepped my way through the now challenging uneven landscape. (An hour back) Though the assistant guide did get to practice a bit of English on me, as he was dead quiet for the 5 hours previous and now it was just he and I and i learned about the death of his father when he was 10 and his siblings etc. And meanwhile I went through the various mental assertations of, you're ok. It's going to be ok. To, it's ok that you're not ok. It's fine to say it hurts. And completely pissed off because I had doubts as to me being recovery ready by the time I got to Laung Namtha- the wonderland where everyone goes to trek. Dammit.

And really no one else besides the lovely Annie and Home, had anything at all to say to me about my sudden drop- weirdly it was as if it hadn't happened. Not unlike looking the other way with the warbler tied to the string. They can't do anything about it, so they just ignore it. Or supress it until it happens to them and then they get it. The other non-paired person on this trip was an extremely attractive Englishman, where i literally had to whip my head away when he took his shirt off- his girlfriend is sick and I was the only one who was (because of the morbid vietnam stories) asking, how long did she have a fevor? Is she better? Does she need anything? The rest were like, oh. End.

I must remember to be attentive and non-callused when people complain or don't of something that's just happened to them- it does take me a delayed reaction fraction of time to process but still. So then as I'm swinging on my hammock after my consilatory lemon shake, contemplating what happened, trying not to cry and rain self-pity down upon myself, i must have been doing a sidestep down the at least 2ft drop with my right leg first, and then the ground broke away from my left foot- and i grabbed a vine with my right hand, which i felt though reflexive and lucky- to be a bit stupid since it could've been thorn laden or a snake- but it slowed me significantly until it broke and that's when and where i felt the pain press into my left foot- as my whole weight must've come down at that moment into my awkwardly bent foot- still not sure about how it got wedged awkwardly but there it is. It could've been way worse- without the vine, if it'd been on slippery rock... whatever!

I can walk very slowly if i don't apply any bending and flex pressure to my arch whatsoever. Yea! I stayed an extra day to 'rest' and then got into altercation with the landlady upon leaving about whether i stayed 4 or 5 days- her husband i think understood and believed me but this previously smiling and benign woman swatted at a kitten and then continued to stare at me as if i was robbing her. And even the woman at the other restaurant i'd inhabited the last 4 days had lost her lustre too- so i can't tell if it was good or bad to move on when i did, and i know the thing about guests and 3 days- but really this was the first neutral place i'd been in until it wasn't. I do regret not being able to see the buffalo sacrifice.

So as I'm walking very slowly with my pack, up the rocky drive from my guesthouse, a few people commented in English, I can't tell if they thought I didn't speak English or they didn't care- but they were like oh, i'm not ready to put my pack on just yet, and especially not a pack that big! (Totally getting shit for how big my bag is! Whatever!!) I turned around and said, well I'd been gone for a year, and i was going to ship stuff but then i didn't, and i extended my stay, and i just peetered out into being completely annoyed. Not bothering to explain i only had a week left- and i wasn't trekking around the world and obsessed with keeping my bag at 11lbs. Lame! They were actually like, oh, ok, that's reasonable. They were literally that close to being like, no, your bag is too big. What were you thinking. But the fact that they misunderstood and thought i'd been on the road a year, somehow made it all ok. Backpacker snobs- thee nerve!

Cut to- me at Home's travel shop, conviniently at the top of the street, praying that Home had left a note explaining I needed a ride or tuk-tuk something to the bus station- he hadn't. LAME! But after a lot more communication issues with Home's brother, (as Home was off learning how to kayak), he generously agreed to give me a motorcycle ride to the bus station- my pack wedged btw/under his legs- and me with my small pack trying not to look at anything and hoping it didn't take too long lest i fall off and die. To thee most broken down van by the river of which i got acquainted and abused by- as i was basically sitting on metal bars because the cushions had rotted (my ass still hurts) and made for people who were 5,1 maybe, with the engine heating up the plates where my feet, knees/legs were, as i bent myself into different positions for the 3+hour drive, so i was using this bundle to keep me from burning AND the potholes on this 'road' were so bad my shoulder got bruised from being flung into window latch and that was when i was like- wait, you only took half of your 'vomina' pill? Let's go ahead and take the whole thing. And no, there wasn't a head rest left- so when i did pass out, my head jerked back and hit the hard plastic where the cusion would've been. Oh, and the whole of laos is ON FIRE. I know i can't stop from complaining and I know lonely planet warned me. But I will never again, agree that slash and burn farming is a good thing. This one guy as we passed had a 20ft flame going, i believe near some electric lines. I am OVER IT.

I really didn't start this as a rant. It feels good though. I have so much latent outrage in me over the smallest things. That at the time, i let pass by me and then i'm like hang on a minute! So tonight I'm sleeping in a hotel with no wi-fi because i was just like, oh get me to a place- and nevermind the place across the street has it- i don't need it! I can live without it! Who cares if this place might actually be a brothel! I don't! Keep walkin. Oh, Alex, if you had only said, let me take you back to my place!

On a positive note, i had some really excellent fried chicken strips. And the mango was pretty tasty. And despite the possibitly of running into Alex again I'm going to stay another day just because- and set myself goals like: find other hotel, find a way to hobble to the postoffice, visit the place where they used to sell opium but now make paperproducts and the like. I'm sure it's going to be bliss.  

Whittled Away,

old-same,

the town is growing on me with its chill mountain (albeit way too dusty) vibe. it's perpetual croaking roosters- which lets be honest is all of laos. they make me laugh. there is still a weird town divide, as I know all small towns must- the normal working class folk on one side, where the new bank is and the fruitsellers, and the otherside of the river where all the tourists are, and the peasants- which is really what the tourists want anyway- the people with the thatched bamboo walled houses living by the side of the road, going about their lives, coming to and fro from the fields- farmers, sure. Yes.

Today I ate too much, and too much because all I did was sleep and eat. Either I was exhausted or depressed I can't say. I had the feeling after my 10 hour sleep and my nap in a hammock- unheard of! that if I were to die soon I wouldn't want to die here- I'd want to die in the hinterlands I thought. Not in this dusty, slashandburn (march is thee season apparently) in between place- but in glory somewhere, but then upon further thought there's never a good time is there- no one wants to leave mid-sentence as I told LL. I just and maybe this is the thing feel a little cagey- like danger is sort of hovering by me. Or that being so close to the end of things, I really just want to be home- like I won't make it across the finish line or something? Or if I mess up I won't complete the game- its a tightrope walk feeling, or a thesis almost completed but hasn't been saved. Carrying all this work and expectation with me.

How are you dear friend? It's taken ages to write this much as some sort of concert is issuing a distracting amount of noise. I haven't even gone on and on about the snake Laung Prabang. Well tomorrow then.

For now, all my love, and forever,
xo,
m.
 

Into the next town over,

I've received your last letter and I can only imagine by the enclosed pictures that your house has been overrun by dangerous animals and weird alien creatures that are best left only to the imagination. I hope you've spoken to management about it all.

I myself through Gods grace was delivered from Vientiane. A place wretched and lacking in charm when the 99 degrees + beats down on you- your only sanctuary one smoothie and coffee house after the next and you know I mentioned the sporadic Wi-Fi.

But oh when it all is happening to you, you're just trying to get through it. I did meet the missionaries. They are delightful kind souls. We prayer walked along the river. I bought three aluminum bracelets made from disarmed ordinance. (more on that in ponsavan), and I ate some questionable fried chicken bought by my host of the eve. We made our way through the language barrier. And they offered to take me up to Vang Vieng the next day, since their daughter was there. That night I sat in the hall of the guesthouse. There's a mural to the left, a village scene. The fans spinning fast overhead. The owner watching tv in the open side room, an older man near me on his laptop too. And then to round the scene, two prostitutes standing at the threshold, wondering, rather politely if their services were needed.

I sat there just sort of gaping.

The next day was more aimless wandering from shop to shop, and I tacked a small flyer on sextrafficking to the board at my guesthouse, and then they picked me up. But I guess they were running 'late' and so we drove to their house and we all got out and I just stood there. Completely without direction. It was only until I sat on a random stoop that she invited me inside, explaining it would be cooler there. I don't know exactly what she thought I was going to do in the interim except I suppose she wasn't thinking of me at all. It was weird. I'm not a vampire but still I like to be invited in. An hour and a 1/2 passed with me sitting on their couch watching a Korean show called "running man" dubbed in Laotian, with their teenage son, whose friends left half way through, that just as I was getting comfortable and getting my laptop that they looked at me like, oh it's time to go. Didn't we tell you? Don't you know? No. No I didn't. Just in future don't make the guest, tagalong ask a lot of questions, when you yourself could answer it all by some simple exposition is all i'm saying. But anyway we headed out of town- I offered to help pay for gas, but they misunderstood thinking I was paying for all the gas- and when I handed them about $20, they said oh, that's not enough, to which I was like, but didn't say, so you're not going to take it or? And then we stopped and prayed for a pastor, and then just as things were getting dull we drove past a dead body.

A motorcyclist, no helmet. Covered in a too small redpatterened sheet; his feet splayed apart, sticking out from it, body prone, face up. The motorcycle nearby. A small candle at his head. And people putting things there as at an alter. I don't know why. The sheet being lifted by a young official as we drove by. Then we pulled over, and he went about talking to various people- the pastor. And then when I asked what happened- he mistook it for a comment rather than a question- or perhaps he thought it was obvious or had no words. I don't know.  Like yes, that is what happened. Or that is what happens. It is a happening.

We drove on, stopping at another village, talking but not getting out, and finally drove in to Vang Vieng- some 4 hours or so later. Again they said nothing about what they were thinking or what was happening, so I inquired if we were meeting the daughter and they said, oh we were going to eat at her (the pastors wife) brothers house, OBVIOUSLY. So I sat there in a large open room on ridiculously ornate wood furniture in the middle of a mishmash of things from tourist postcards (her brother is a tour operator) to a Buddhist sleeping on the floor, to a soccer game going ontv, and we ate white fish in a sauce, sticky rice- which is really just a ridiculous thing to have since they use it more in a bread and dip sense, and then vermicelli noodles in some sort of coconut sauce. It was difficult to engage them in the sense that I just had no idea what to say or do in any way and that had me just shut down.

And then of course when we weren't staying anywhere but across the street, and I asked how much the room was, which became awkward, as they looked at me like, why I was even asking- it was 100,000kip which is not bad, at about $13, but I asked if there was something cheaper- and the pastors wife went full mom on me and said, oh it's very nice- a/c. I will pay for you. Ok, ok?! And whisked out of the room. I was mortified. Seriously. Not even having the words as I asked what time we might meet tomorrow, as if it were obvious - again, that I didn't want her to pay but that I just was on a budget, nevermind the room was painted in this unholy limegreen color... oh dear LORD. But it was such a different vibe from the couple in Saigon who I was very money conscious with- as they didn't have much.

Meanwhile, the next day, they were in the middle of funeral rites for someone who had died- Buddhist. Holding vigil or watch next door- and there was a freak rainstorm- in the middle of the dryseason. (They paid for my breakfast- and shaking my brain internally at not being able to take their gifts to me at all well) I was glad for the rain respite but it sort of spun an already fragile sense of purpose into complete nonsense. And I sat for a couple hours learning how to wrap this mixture of pork, onion and rice into banana leaves and tie them with dried husk. A gift they give as people leave money for good luck. As the rain poured down around us- and one woman who looked at my work only managed to raise her eyebrows communicating in totality that though the work sufficed it was subpar. Luckily a much kinder woman continued to encourage me that practice and efficiency would eventually yield the quality work desired- I improved. Amazing Race challenge- PASS.

After that, more sitting, nescafe, smiling, nodding, lunch of the same stuff as the night before (funeral food) I made my escape, but still didn't feel settled. The daughter who I thought would show me around a bit ended up going back with them to Vientiane, leaving me here (not that they told me that until she was getting in the car hugging me goodbye)- ultimately glad of that though, since I didn't have a strong enough sense to be direct or authoritative, about what I wanted anyway. So I spent the day charting my course- onward. I moved rooms also. It rained a lot more, all through the night again- people explaining that it was a storm moving from Vietnam, as if it was their fault, but it brought blessedly cool weather. I bought my ticket home- with a promise to you my darling we shall have to meet somewhere soon. As I opted to stay longer and push on further north.

I signed up for some kayak/caving thing tomorrow, and am hemming and hawing over learning how to rock-climb. And I need to book my bus ticket out of here too. It is unimaginable that this is only day two of the town. I talked to a lovely Scottish couple that are venturing for a year abroad. Showered. Wandered through a field stopping short apparently of finding a couple caves- I wasn't prepared, walking over a rickety bamboo bridge, and coffee, and more soda water- and some more prayer talkin to God. And that's the thing of it. At least now, there's a terminus set. I can't believe it. I almost feel as if I can start looking for a job. Almost. (hahaha) I'm excited for the landscapes ahead. And I hope to spend as little time in cities as I can from here. Having overspent time in Saigon and Vientiane... Luang Prabang does tempt- with it's sultry palmtree, by the delta meets colonialism feel but I hope I don't chicken out by pushing myself a little further afield.

my love to you,
xo, m.



 

Dear Penelope,

Day 34 since I've left the island.

I happen to be completely irritable.

I'm in a guesthouse on the edge of the center of town, covered in foliage, (flowering vines, plumerias whose whole flowers drop with a spin and a quiet thwat against the pavement, with picturesque statues and as LP said, replete with charm. I would disavow them completely for the shoddily slow internet but it's been cutting out all over town, as I duck in to escape the heat and have another smoothie or another iced coffee or another something, and besides as I said- charm, the quiet, the feeling of living on the edge of something and not just being yet another cog in a hole. I'm blowing my budget in frivolous hydration, however, and collecting internet passwords, maybe more so then my entire time on jeju. And I haven't seen a whole hell of a lot but walking by some wats, a pillar and their version of the arc' d triumph. Apparently the US sent the cement for a highway and the laotions decided to build a hulking mass of a temple slash gateway. Well why not? Oh and I'm drooling over silk. There's nothing to be done about that though. Also lots of cars for a city of 700,000. Small but not overcrowded. Relatively clean and unassuming as a town. Not particularly inspiring, but a good change of pace from the relentless frenetic energy of Saigon. So that a mere 6 blocks doesn't exhaust me-- And walking in the street not nearly as perilous, though here i'm not sure the motorbikes are as adept at weaving around pedestrians- and they never imploy the horn really.

The moon is waning but bright, the night warm. The fan rotates sending my diy mosquito net billowing up around me in fits. The ceilings are high and the walls white with cobwebs, some decay, and a few telltale footprints of peoples impassioned thwacks against the antagonist mosquitos. I woke up feeling positive, and then I had an email that sort of obliterated my head a bit and reminded me of sex-trafficking in these particular countries and just the predatory nature of the dark, the power of desire, which had me pondering all day- and the missionaries aren't getting back to me. It made for a hell of day of feeling like I had to get out of here. But as it is, tomorrow i'm sure i'll find clarity in the email, and just now I see the missionary will met me tomorrow and i'll get to go prayer walking. It's the problem with not having my course set. I'm gasping a bit and floundering. oh and there was another thing- our church is officially homeless come July. And I got another email this morning saying that due to another citation on the lot all the plants need to be removed and what does it matter, the saving of them since the whole place is up for grabs- so I got a fwd, and a tag about saving and dispersing the plants. So there it is- all my work- obliterated. Transient? transcendental? Fleeting, as a summer breeze, a dying bloom. I suppose I was right in the end not to really put my blood into the earth but still. Who wants to be right about things like that.

And as she says "Is that a tear?" Poirot: "No, It is the breeze."