Thursday, November 6, 2008
The End
I regretfully must inform you that I've decided to discontinue this blog. I will, however, continue recording everything in my journal, which is what I had been copying thus far. Since arriving in India the pace is too quick and it would be too stressful for me to continue spending hours typing everything I've written. Also, I have begun writing a book which is presently consuming my energy. Thank you for reading.
Monday, October 20, 2008
The Moken village, or Sea Gypsies
13 Oct 08 -
It's day three on Kho Lao with the Moken people and, as usual, I love them more and more as time goes on - especially the children. The older generation seems very depressed, but the children haven't yet realized the sadness of their situation. The story of these wandering sea dwellers is indeed and unfortunate one. Please read a brief summary found on the site of an organization started by a girl who came on this trip last year: http://www.themokenproject.org/.
They live in tiny desheveled huts that are completely falling apart and, unfortunately, they did not receive nearly as much aid as the other islands after the tsunami of 2004. There is also talk of corruption in some of the aid groups, NGO's and even missionaries. Since they have no citizenship and consequently can no longer travel anywhere legally, they are forced to collect shellfish at every low tide. This is the main staple of their diet which leads to a lot of malnourished children. Sometimes they go on dangerous fishing trips and a 14-year-old boy just died while diving. Last week they were caught fishing by the Burmese army, who have been known to shoot at them. They stole their fish and even their boat. A boy went to try and get it back and still has not returned. Some of them are missing hands and arms from extremely dangerous improvised explosives they sometimes use to fish. At first I was shocked by the poverty but things are beginning to look up here. It seemed hopeless when my group came and built a community center last year. But this year there are 50 new houses under construction and some more volunteers who are actually helping them.
Yesterday we leveled ground under the new houses and moved bamboo mats that would become walls. We went fishing at night, which was quite interesting. We simply let out a net that was literally close to a mile long. It was suspended by buoys and allowed to span about 8 ft. below the surface. When we came back to pull it in, we discovered 10 small silver fish that had become tangled, which we ate for dinner. I thought this was quite meager but the group that went out to fish the next night caught only a crab. It seems the tsunami took not only 10,000 human lives, but also most of the fish in Thailand.
We all sleep together in a mosquito-net city in the Church because their houses are too small to even fit us. The tide comes in right underneath the building and the soothing sounds of gentle waves helps improve the fact that we are sleeping directly on the hard floor. I was one of the first people to get up this morning. I got breakfast and sat at the end of the dock to watch the ocean as I at in silent meditation. All of a sudden I was attacked by small naked children who wanted me to swim with them. I dove in, and it was fun until they all began climbing me and almost drowned me. But it was a wonderful way to wake up and I felt great all day.
We spent the morning picking up broken glass from all over the village. The children don't have shoes and they run around in filth all day. They helped us after realizing what we were doing and showed us the scars and cuts all over their feet. There is trash everywhere because people are used to throwing biodegradable waste around and it was never a problem until the rise of plastic and glass. I couldn't believe how much glass we found and it felt good to do something that really helps them. A lot of them get skin infections and a group of us went to the mainland today to get a bunch of much-needed medical supplies.
We also bought them a soccer ball and spent the afternoon playing with half the village. I burnt the bottoms of my feet on the hot sand, but it didn't bother me as much as playing with my big right toe broken. Perhaps one of these days I'll let it heal, but certainly not while there's fun to be had!
16 Oct 08 -
We spent the afternoon today in Burma. We hadn't planned to, but since our plane arrived early and we were in danger of being fined for extending our stay past 31 days, we needed to. It's a regular practice for people to cross the border and pay $10 to have their passports stamped in order to stay longer in Thailand. I was excited to get an additional stamp in my passport. If there is one thing of which I am immensely proud it's this simple document. All of my world travels reflected succinctly in multi-colored ink. What a marvelous thing!
Since we only got to see a border town, it was, of course, very touristy. But it was Muslim and I really loved the beautiful prayers broadcasted over busy streets. There are no cars on the island, so you only have to watch out for thousands of mopeds. However, they drive on the right side of the road here - unlike dangerously confusing Thailand, where I never know which way to look for traffic. We were constantly nagged by English-speaking guides who would bring us to shops for a small commission. They were helpful, however, and I ended up spending a good chunk of change on gifts. As we were leaving, a man handed me a Burmese 20 dollar bill (worth less than a penny) and told me it was lucky. He then put his right hand out to shake, which had an extra thumb. We laughed together as we shook and I gave him 10 baht. I found the Burmese to be as charming as the Thais but also with a great sense of humor. A group of them made fun of me for sitting in a seat without first offering it to one of the ladies in the group. Then when another seat freed up they offered it to me and said, "ladies first."
I found it difficult to spend much time reflecting throughout the day as I spent every free moment reading. I found myself completely absorbed in the autobiography of the Dalai Lama. He is the only one of the three people I most admire, including MLK Jr. and Gandhi, that hasn't been assassinated - although I'm sure there have been plots by the Chinese. It is a sad thing that some of history's greatest men fell victim to the very hatred they dedicated their lives to rising above. It makes me wonder whether mankind will ever transcend his primitive violent tendencies. But even as each bright light of hope is extinguished, I feel that their legacy gently pushes the collective consciousness toward progress.
Two days ago I spent the morning at the school playing with children and the afternoon briefly helping to hand out medical supplies. I developed the utmost respect for preschool and kindergarten teachers as the whole room seemed to teeter of the brink of utter pandemonium. Even amidst the crying, screaming, fighting, running, and peeing on the floor, we managed to play some games and teach them some English. I enjoyed it very much, but I was again exhausted afterwards.
The next day we helped another group of Thai volunteers with a project to build a water supply. I was relieved that some of them spoke English and they seemed like very kind and genuine people. I took advantage of the low tide to wander though mud to the other side of the island. I was my only chance since the jungle was far too thick to allow exploration and there were no roads or paths. I came upon a place where the foliage gave way to a swampy area. It reminded me very much of that scene in "The Princess Bride" with the rodents of unusual size. I noticed that it was eerily quiet and when I stopped for a moment there was complete silence. "Nice for meditation," I thought as by body began to naturally relax itself beginning with mindful breathing.
But all of a sudden I was struck with fear, remembering that there were small poisonous snakes on this island. I realized that if I were bitten I was pretty much done for. I had no cell phone and I was miles from the village in the middle of a swamp. "It would take them days to find me," I thought, "But I can't go back the way I came - that would be boring!" So I continued on - carefully. I noticed what looked to be a fruit tree and, thinking this curious, went over to inspect it. I then discovered a field on a hill and was relieved to find a clearing/tree farm in the middle of the island. I climbed to the top of the hill, still watching for snakes of course, and was glad that I had not turned back. The view of the surrouding mountainous islands was breathtaking. From the other side of the field I could hear children yelling, which I would use as a marker to get through the thick jungle.
The thought of going back the long way now seemed intolerably boring so I had no choice but to press onward. "A little bushwacking never killed anyone," I said to myself before thinking about the statement. Then I realized that there have undoubtedly been countless numbers of people who have died while navigating unknown jungles. I picked up a small stick as my make-shift machete, which immediately proved to be completely useless. It wasn't bad at first until I noticed spiderwebs everywhere. Normally this wouldn't bother me but the day before I had caught myself within inches of walking into a large web. When I looked for the spider I was shocked to find the largest most satanic looking spider I have ever seen in my life. Now that image haunted me and since I kept unavoidably getting covered in webs I would frequently stop to scan my body for one of these absurdly terrifying creatures.
I amused myself with my paranoia as I cannot recall the last time I was afraid of any animals. I could feel also feel myself getting the dry-mouth and lightheadedness of dehydration, which served only to fuel my fantasies of impending doom. Finally, liberation. After one final compulsive scan, I trudged back through the mud - covered in dirt, webs, cuts, and God knows what else.
Tonight we were sent off in typical Thai fashion - a party equipped with drums, singing, and dancing around a fire. I found the celebratory aspects to assist in the pain of leaving. This time I was dancing with Moken children climbing all over me. As soon as you pick one up, another three or four just begin climbing you. And they are quite apt at this. After we tried and failed to climb a tree for coconuts, one of the little boys scurried up the trunk and kicked all of them down to us. Even with the added weight of children, I found myself in ecstasy while dancing around the fire and staring at the millions stars. There is something deeply spiritual about this act and I think I will miss it very much when I return.
I sat down completely exhausted and was shortly thereafter massaged by four children at once. Finally their endless amounts of energy was beginning to work in my favor! I love the children here and found myself particularly attached to a young girl of about five. Every morning as I attempted to eat my breakfast in silent prayer and meditation at the end of the dock, she would sneak up and then urge me to swim with her. She had such a beautiful smile and laugh that it made my soul feel a bit lighter. But she had a bad cough, and I sincerely hope it was temporary and not something more serious. I obliged her in swimming, as I did whenever she asked to be picked up and flung into the air. The only problem was that as soon as I did this a line of more children would begin to form - each with a smile and arms raised. As soon as I flung a second one, not only would the line grow longer as more children ran over, but as soon as I put them down they would run to the back of the line again. This would continue, I'm convinced, for eternity if I had let it. But unfortunately for them my back would begin to ache almost immediately and I felt like an old man as I tried to convey this to them.
The children seem to outnumber adults 2:1, which is not surprising since many of them die young. It is a very difficult life here with many dying of diseases and dangerous fishing trips. About 10 per year - a significant fraction of a village of about 100. There are skin infections, large tumors, unset broken bones, and even dead puppies floating in the tide. I sincerely wish I was joking about something that seems so comically tragic. Worse yet, there are stories of selling children because families were literally unable to feed them - something so incredibly unheardof in America that I found it immensely difficult to swallow.
The village chief is one of many alcoholics. He stumbles around yelling, peeing and mumbling discernable Thai. He almost died in one of the common drunken scuffles when his throat was sliced by a broken glass bottle. My heart goes out to him as I have become intimately acquainted with many alcoholics. I have seen firsthand the pain and suffering they have endured. When he says, "My mind is drunk, but my heart is not," I know he is telling the truth. Still I can't help but think that if he had it together the village might be in a lot better shape.
Fortunately, there are two saints who live here and help to pick up his slack. The first is P. Now, a large Thai woman from the other side of the island. She runs a small store and soup kitchen, where she cooks up large batches of food to give the children. She was so kind and loving, and she wouldn't ever let me walk by without serving me some delicious spicy food. The second saint is Ajhan Vichai. He and his group received the 1981 Nobel Peace Prize for their work in Cambodia. A man of true humility, he introduced himself as a bondservant of Jesus Christ, which made me admire him immediately. He was a very saintly old man with a frail body and long white hair and beard. He moved slowly and gently with an air of grace and powerful compassion. He is somehow on salary from the UN and lives among the Moken while making slow and steady strides to improve their lives. And then, of course, the Mirror Art Group does a lot of work with the Moken, just as they do with the hill-tribes up North. All in all, it was a bittersweet experience on the island. Although the poverty crushed my spirit a bit, I felt that these people were in good hands and things are really begin to look up for them.
It's day three on Kho Lao with the Moken people and, as usual, I love them more and more as time goes on - especially the children. The older generation seems very depressed, but the children haven't yet realized the sadness of their situation. The story of these wandering sea dwellers is indeed and unfortunate one. Please read a brief summary found on the site of an organization started by a girl who came on this trip last year: http://www.themokenproject.org/.
They live in tiny desheveled huts that are completely falling apart and, unfortunately, they did not receive nearly as much aid as the other islands after the tsunami of 2004. There is also talk of corruption in some of the aid groups, NGO's and even missionaries. Since they have no citizenship and consequently can no longer travel anywhere legally, they are forced to collect shellfish at every low tide. This is the main staple of their diet which leads to a lot of malnourished children. Sometimes they go on dangerous fishing trips and a 14-year-old boy just died while diving. Last week they were caught fishing by the Burmese army, who have been known to shoot at them. They stole their fish and even their boat. A boy went to try and get it back and still has not returned. Some of them are missing hands and arms from extremely dangerous improvised explosives they sometimes use to fish. At first I was shocked by the poverty but things are beginning to look up here. It seemed hopeless when my group came and built a community center last year. But this year there are 50 new houses under construction and some more volunteers who are actually helping them.
Yesterday we leveled ground under the new houses and moved bamboo mats that would become walls. We went fishing at night, which was quite interesting. We simply let out a net that was literally close to a mile long. It was suspended by buoys and allowed to span about 8 ft. below the surface. When we came back to pull it in, we discovered 10 small silver fish that had become tangled, which we ate for dinner. I thought this was quite meager but the group that went out to fish the next night caught only a crab. It seems the tsunami took not only 10,000 human lives, but also most of the fish in Thailand.
We all sleep together in a mosquito-net city in the Church because their houses are too small to even fit us. The tide comes in right underneath the building and the soothing sounds of gentle waves helps improve the fact that we are sleeping directly on the hard floor. I was one of the first people to get up this morning. I got breakfast and sat at the end of the dock to watch the ocean as I at in silent meditation. All of a sudden I was attacked by small naked children who wanted me to swim with them. I dove in, and it was fun until they all began climbing me and almost drowned me. But it was a wonderful way to wake up and I felt great all day.
We spent the morning picking up broken glass from all over the village. The children don't have shoes and they run around in filth all day. They helped us after realizing what we were doing and showed us the scars and cuts all over their feet. There is trash everywhere because people are used to throwing biodegradable waste around and it was never a problem until the rise of plastic and glass. I couldn't believe how much glass we found and it felt good to do something that really helps them. A lot of them get skin infections and a group of us went to the mainland today to get a bunch of much-needed medical supplies.
We also bought them a soccer ball and spent the afternoon playing with half the village. I burnt the bottoms of my feet on the hot sand, but it didn't bother me as much as playing with my big right toe broken. Perhaps one of these days I'll let it heal, but certainly not while there's fun to be had!
16 Oct 08 -
We spent the afternoon today in Burma. We hadn't planned to, but since our plane arrived early and we were in danger of being fined for extending our stay past 31 days, we needed to. It's a regular practice for people to cross the border and pay $10 to have their passports stamped in order to stay longer in Thailand. I was excited to get an additional stamp in my passport. If there is one thing of which I am immensely proud it's this simple document. All of my world travels reflected succinctly in multi-colored ink. What a marvelous thing!
Since we only got to see a border town, it was, of course, very touristy. But it was Muslim and I really loved the beautiful prayers broadcasted over busy streets. There are no cars on the island, so you only have to watch out for thousands of mopeds. However, they drive on the right side of the road here - unlike dangerously confusing Thailand, where I never know which way to look for traffic. We were constantly nagged by English-speaking guides who would bring us to shops for a small commission. They were helpful, however, and I ended up spending a good chunk of change on gifts. As we were leaving, a man handed me a Burmese 20 dollar bill (worth less than a penny) and told me it was lucky. He then put his right hand out to shake, which had an extra thumb. We laughed together as we shook and I gave him 10 baht. I found the Burmese to be as charming as the Thais but also with a great sense of humor. A group of them made fun of me for sitting in a seat without first offering it to one of the ladies in the group. Then when another seat freed up they offered it to me and said, "ladies first."
I found it difficult to spend much time reflecting throughout the day as I spent every free moment reading. I found myself completely absorbed in the autobiography of the Dalai Lama. He is the only one of the three people I most admire, including MLK Jr. and Gandhi, that hasn't been assassinated - although I'm sure there have been plots by the Chinese. It is a sad thing that some of history's greatest men fell victim to the very hatred they dedicated their lives to rising above. It makes me wonder whether mankind will ever transcend his primitive violent tendencies. But even as each bright light of hope is extinguished, I feel that their legacy gently pushes the collective consciousness toward progress.
Two days ago I spent the morning at the school playing with children and the afternoon briefly helping to hand out medical supplies. I developed the utmost respect for preschool and kindergarten teachers as the whole room seemed to teeter of the brink of utter pandemonium. Even amidst the crying, screaming, fighting, running, and peeing on the floor, we managed to play some games and teach them some English. I enjoyed it very much, but I was again exhausted afterwards.
The next day we helped another group of Thai volunteers with a project to build a water supply. I was relieved that some of them spoke English and they seemed like very kind and genuine people. I took advantage of the low tide to wander though mud to the other side of the island. I was my only chance since the jungle was far too thick to allow exploration and there were no roads or paths. I came upon a place where the foliage gave way to a swampy area. It reminded me very much of that scene in "The Princess Bride" with the rodents of unusual size. I noticed that it was eerily quiet and when I stopped for a moment there was complete silence. "Nice for meditation," I thought as by body began to naturally relax itself beginning with mindful breathing.
But all of a sudden I was struck with fear, remembering that there were small poisonous snakes on this island. I realized that if I were bitten I was pretty much done for. I had no cell phone and I was miles from the village in the middle of a swamp. "It would take them days to find me," I thought, "But I can't go back the way I came - that would be boring!" So I continued on - carefully. I noticed what looked to be a fruit tree and, thinking this curious, went over to inspect it. I then discovered a field on a hill and was relieved to find a clearing/tree farm in the middle of the island. I climbed to the top of the hill, still watching for snakes of course, and was glad that I had not turned back. The view of the surrouding mountainous islands was breathtaking. From the other side of the field I could hear children yelling, which I would use as a marker to get through the thick jungle.
The thought of going back the long way now seemed intolerably boring so I had no choice but to press onward. "A little bushwacking never killed anyone," I said to myself before thinking about the statement. Then I realized that there have undoubtedly been countless numbers of people who have died while navigating unknown jungles. I picked up a small stick as my make-shift machete, which immediately proved to be completely useless. It wasn't bad at first until I noticed spiderwebs everywhere. Normally this wouldn't bother me but the day before I had caught myself within inches of walking into a large web. When I looked for the spider I was shocked to find the largest most satanic looking spider I have ever seen in my life. Now that image haunted me and since I kept unavoidably getting covered in webs I would frequently stop to scan my body for one of these absurdly terrifying creatures.
I amused myself with my paranoia as I cannot recall the last time I was afraid of any animals. I could feel also feel myself getting the dry-mouth and lightheadedness of dehydration, which served only to fuel my fantasies of impending doom. Finally, liberation. After one final compulsive scan, I trudged back through the mud - covered in dirt, webs, cuts, and God knows what else.
Tonight we were sent off in typical Thai fashion - a party equipped with drums, singing, and dancing around a fire. I found the celebratory aspects to assist in the pain of leaving. This time I was dancing with Moken children climbing all over me. As soon as you pick one up, another three or four just begin climbing you. And they are quite apt at this. After we tried and failed to climb a tree for coconuts, one of the little boys scurried up the trunk and kicked all of them down to us. Even with the added weight of children, I found myself in ecstasy while dancing around the fire and staring at the millions stars. There is something deeply spiritual about this act and I think I will miss it very much when I return.
I sat down completely exhausted and was shortly thereafter massaged by four children at once. Finally their endless amounts of energy was beginning to work in my favor! I love the children here and found myself particularly attached to a young girl of about five. Every morning as I attempted to eat my breakfast in silent prayer and meditation at the end of the dock, she would sneak up and then urge me to swim with her. She had such a beautiful smile and laugh that it made my soul feel a bit lighter. But she had a bad cough, and I sincerely hope it was temporary and not something more serious. I obliged her in swimming, as I did whenever she asked to be picked up and flung into the air. The only problem was that as soon as I did this a line of more children would begin to form - each with a smile and arms raised. As soon as I flung a second one, not only would the line grow longer as more children ran over, but as soon as I put them down they would run to the back of the line again. This would continue, I'm convinced, for eternity if I had let it. But unfortunately for them my back would begin to ache almost immediately and I felt like an old man as I tried to convey this to them.
The children seem to outnumber adults 2:1, which is not surprising since many of them die young. It is a very difficult life here with many dying of diseases and dangerous fishing trips. About 10 per year - a significant fraction of a village of about 100. There are skin infections, large tumors, unset broken bones, and even dead puppies floating in the tide. I sincerely wish I was joking about something that seems so comically tragic. Worse yet, there are stories of selling children because families were literally unable to feed them - something so incredibly unheardof in America that I found it immensely difficult to swallow.
The village chief is one of many alcoholics. He stumbles around yelling, peeing and mumbling discernable Thai. He almost died in one of the common drunken scuffles when his throat was sliced by a broken glass bottle. My heart goes out to him as I have become intimately acquainted with many alcoholics. I have seen firsthand the pain and suffering they have endured. When he says, "My mind is drunk, but my heart is not," I know he is telling the truth. Still I can't help but think that if he had it together the village might be in a lot better shape.
Fortunately, there are two saints who live here and help to pick up his slack. The first is P. Now, a large Thai woman from the other side of the island. She runs a small store and soup kitchen, where she cooks up large batches of food to give the children. She was so kind and loving, and she wouldn't ever let me walk by without serving me some delicious spicy food. The second saint is Ajhan Vichai. He and his group received the 1981 Nobel Peace Prize for their work in Cambodia. A man of true humility, he introduced himself as a bondservant of Jesus Christ, which made me admire him immediately. He was a very saintly old man with a frail body and long white hair and beard. He moved slowly and gently with an air of grace and powerful compassion. He is somehow on salary from the UN and lives among the Moken while making slow and steady strides to improve their lives. And then, of course, the Mirror Art Group does a lot of work with the Moken, just as they do with the hill-tribes up North. All in all, it was a bittersweet experience on the island. Although the poverty crushed my spirit a bit, I felt that these people were in good hands and things are really begin to look up for them.
Trekking through hill-tribe villages in the mountains and riding elephants
3 Oct 08 -
After a long bus ride (with tiny uncomfortable seats that reinforced my opinion that I am far too large for Thailand) we arrived back in Chiang Rai. From there we met our guides to the hill-tribe villages, a non-profit called the Mirror Art Group: http://www.mirrorartgroup.org/. As we were preparing our packs for a 4-day trek through the mountains I realized that I had left my camera on the bus :-( I allowed myself a brief grieving period - wah wah, I lost so many good pictures, I can't remember anything now, I can't show people at home, so on and so forth. Then when I felt I was ready, I allowed myself to let go and now I'm completely over it. Perhaps it can be viewed as a good thing to keep me more present. I was still a bit blue when we arrived at the first hill-tribe village, but after meditating on the impermanence and inevitable loss of all things - including but not limited to possessions - I was able to completely let go and probably enjoyed myself even more.
I looked around in amazement at the 100% bamboo house on stilts we were staying in. It reminded me of a tree-house and I felt like I was in Never Never land - J.M. Barrie's, not Michael Jackson's creepy lair. As usual, we were greeted with open arms and genuinely warm smiles. We were lucky enough to arrive during one of their frequent festivals in which they scare off any evil spirits that may have followed them back after the harvest. Again, they dressed us up in traditional garb - beautiful black/multi-colored fabric and head-dresses with silver coins dangling. We had a blast playing instruments - drums, cymbals, and hollowed-out bamboo that was struck on the ground - while dancing around a fire in true pagan ritual form. I cannot even begin to describe the feelings of joy I experienced. I spent much of the night playing with exuberant children, who kept me entertained until I was sweaty and out of breath. But their love and energy was boundless and I still continued to play - perhaps enjoying it even more than them.
5 Oct 08 -
We trekked from the Akha village for about 2 hours towards Chiang Rai. We stopped at a waterfall and swam in the rain for a while before enjoying our packed lunches - pad thai wrapped in a banana leaf. It was nice not having to worry about producing trash for once. We continued a while longer to Chiang Rai and the view was amazing. Lush mountains covered with bamboo and rice fields, sprinkled with cows and small bamboo huts. Just when I thought things couldn't get any better, I learned that we were going to Chiang Rai to pick up elephants for the rest of the trek to the next village!
I don't think I have ever been that close to an elephant. They struck me as very odd and almost alien-like creatures. We were harassed by their awkward trunks looking for food as we walked to the platform used for mounting them. The ride was bumpier than expected but I was engrossed in amazement that I was actually riding on top of this huge and powerful animal. At one point our rider randomly jumped off and the elephant continued on its own. Naturally, I took advantage and jumped down from the platform to ride on its neck. His head was smushier than I would have guessed and I was overwhelmed with compassion for this seemingly old and wise majestic creature. It was funny how they would just grab shoots of bamboo and other foliage with their trunks and munch on it while we walked. Well, it was funny until it snarfed up some of its cud up onto me. But I laughed and took it in stride. I was sad when we arrived at the village and I had to get off. What a magnificent beast!
This was our first Lahu village and I found these people to be similar to all Thais - joyful, loving, excessively hospitable, and overly concerned with making us as comfortable as possible. Again, they dressed us in traditional garb and we danced and sang around a fire. We slept in another bamboo hut raised on stilts with animals living beneath. Every house is like this. It's fun once you get over the somewhat disconcerting sounds of pigs and hens directly beneath you while you sleep. After meals, we simply lift up the bamboo floors and drop the leftovers for the pigs. All is well until the roosters (who seem to have megaphones tied to their beaks) begin at dawn!
We got up early this morning and hiked for 6 1/2 hours over two mountains to the next Lahu village. It was quite a haul with our packs. Fortunately, it poured which I much prefer to sweltering heat, but I still drank well over a gallon and sweat most of it out. We would periodically reach clearings from which you could survey the splendor of Thailand's mountains for miles in all directions. Massive ripples of earth covered in thick green jungle. I pulled two leaches off of me and we ate some bamboo worms alive, which look exactly like white grubs but taste like coconut. I was exhausted by the time we reached the village. As always, we ate like kings for dinner and they serve the most delicious tea after every meal. I grew to love the smell of fire as you walk into the bamboo huts. They are completely bare-bones but somehow remarkable homey.
6 Oct 08 -
We left the village this morning and literally bushwacked with machetes through bamboo forest. It was exhausting so I was happy when we stopped at a rice patty clearing in a valley for lunch. I was excited as the guides taught us how to cook and eat completely from the land. We used bamboo cylinders to cook the rice and eggs, wrapping the inner wall with banana leaves that we also ate. We collected fiddlehead ferns from the valley and made chili from bamboo worms we had collected during the hike. We even carved chop sticks from bamboo. It was an extraordinary and wonderful feast. We then trekked a bit further to a Karin village by a river in the lowlands. I felt spoiled since there was actually an outhouse! Funny the things you take for granted...
10 Oct 08 -
We stopped in Ayutthaya for a day and a half enroute to the sea gypsies on a small island in the south. We spent the day biking around the city and visiting Wats (temples) that were 600-800 years old, mostly in ruins. By the end, I found myself feeling a bit Watted out as I have already seen so many and they are tourist traps. I don't want to give the wrong impression - they are absolutely stunning and magnificent cultural monuments - I have simply found that I'm more interested in the Thai people themselves rather than their accomplishments.
Last night we went a discotheque and I had a lot of fun dancing. I was hungry before going in and saw a food cart just outside. I went over to find a skinny old man selling crickets, grasshoppers, and bamboo worms. I could hardly believe that this man made a living selling insects outside of a club! "I guess it's smart since only a completely intoxicated person would consider eating these," I thought as I sampled each one. The grasshoppers were to crunchy and stringy, the crickets were quite good, but I ended up buying a bag of bamboo worms for 20 baht, or about $.06. It's a good thing I have a strong stomach or I would starve here.
After a long bus ride (with tiny uncomfortable seats that reinforced my opinion that I am far too large for Thailand) we arrived back in Chiang Rai. From there we met our guides to the hill-tribe villages, a non-profit called the Mirror Art Group: http://www.mirrorartgroup.org/. As we were preparing our packs for a 4-day trek through the mountains I realized that I had left my camera on the bus :-( I allowed myself a brief grieving period - wah wah, I lost so many good pictures, I can't remember anything now, I can't show people at home, so on and so forth. Then when I felt I was ready, I allowed myself to let go and now I'm completely over it. Perhaps it can be viewed as a good thing to keep me more present. I was still a bit blue when we arrived at the first hill-tribe village, but after meditating on the impermanence and inevitable loss of all things - including but not limited to possessions - I was able to completely let go and probably enjoyed myself even more.
I looked around in amazement at the 100% bamboo house on stilts we were staying in. It reminded me of a tree-house and I felt like I was in Never Never land - J.M. Barrie's, not Michael Jackson's creepy lair. As usual, we were greeted with open arms and genuinely warm smiles. We were lucky enough to arrive during one of their frequent festivals in which they scare off any evil spirits that may have followed them back after the harvest. Again, they dressed us up in traditional garb - beautiful black/multi-colored fabric and head-dresses with silver coins dangling. We had a blast playing instruments - drums, cymbals, and hollowed-out bamboo that was struck on the ground - while dancing around a fire in true pagan ritual form. I cannot even begin to describe the feelings of joy I experienced. I spent much of the night playing with exuberant children, who kept me entertained until I was sweaty and out of breath. But their love and energy was boundless and I still continued to play - perhaps enjoying it even more than them.
5 Oct 08 -
We trekked from the Akha village for about 2 hours towards Chiang Rai. We stopped at a waterfall and swam in the rain for a while before enjoying our packed lunches - pad thai wrapped in a banana leaf. It was nice not having to worry about producing trash for once. We continued a while longer to Chiang Rai and the view was amazing. Lush mountains covered with bamboo and rice fields, sprinkled with cows and small bamboo huts. Just when I thought things couldn't get any better, I learned that we were going to Chiang Rai to pick up elephants for the rest of the trek to the next village!
I don't think I have ever been that close to an elephant. They struck me as very odd and almost alien-like creatures. We were harassed by their awkward trunks looking for food as we walked to the platform used for mounting them. The ride was bumpier than expected but I was engrossed in amazement that I was actually riding on top of this huge and powerful animal. At one point our rider randomly jumped off and the elephant continued on its own. Naturally, I took advantage and jumped down from the platform to ride on its neck. His head was smushier than I would have guessed and I was overwhelmed with compassion for this seemingly old and wise majestic creature. It was funny how they would just grab shoots of bamboo and other foliage with their trunks and munch on it while we walked. Well, it was funny until it snarfed up some of its cud up onto me. But I laughed and took it in stride. I was sad when we arrived at the village and I had to get off. What a magnificent beast!
This was our first Lahu village and I found these people to be similar to all Thais - joyful, loving, excessively hospitable, and overly concerned with making us as comfortable as possible. Again, they dressed us in traditional garb and we danced and sang around a fire. We slept in another bamboo hut raised on stilts with animals living beneath. Every house is like this. It's fun once you get over the somewhat disconcerting sounds of pigs and hens directly beneath you while you sleep. After meals, we simply lift up the bamboo floors and drop the leftovers for the pigs. All is well until the roosters (who seem to have megaphones tied to their beaks) begin at dawn!
We got up early this morning and hiked for 6 1/2 hours over two mountains to the next Lahu village. It was quite a haul with our packs. Fortunately, it poured which I much prefer to sweltering heat, but I still drank well over a gallon and sweat most of it out. We would periodically reach clearings from which you could survey the splendor of Thailand's mountains for miles in all directions. Massive ripples of earth covered in thick green jungle. I pulled two leaches off of me and we ate some bamboo worms alive, which look exactly like white grubs but taste like coconut. I was exhausted by the time we reached the village. As always, we ate like kings for dinner and they serve the most delicious tea after every meal. I grew to love the smell of fire as you walk into the bamboo huts. They are completely bare-bones but somehow remarkable homey.
6 Oct 08 -
We left the village this morning and literally bushwacked with machetes through bamboo forest. It was exhausting so I was happy when we stopped at a rice patty clearing in a valley for lunch. I was excited as the guides taught us how to cook and eat completely from the land. We used bamboo cylinders to cook the rice and eggs, wrapping the inner wall with banana leaves that we also ate. We collected fiddlehead ferns from the valley and made chili from bamboo worms we had collected during the hike. We even carved chop sticks from bamboo. It was an extraordinary and wonderful feast. We then trekked a bit further to a Karin village by a river in the lowlands. I felt spoiled since there was actually an outhouse! Funny the things you take for granted...
10 Oct 08 -
We stopped in Ayutthaya for a day and a half enroute to the sea gypsies on a small island in the south. We spent the day biking around the city and visiting Wats (temples) that were 600-800 years old, mostly in ruins. By the end, I found myself feeling a bit Watted out as I have already seen so many and they are tourist traps. I don't want to give the wrong impression - they are absolutely stunning and magnificent cultural monuments - I have simply found that I'm more interested in the Thai people themselves rather than their accomplishments.
Last night we went a discotheque and I had a lot of fun dancing. I was hungry before going in and saw a food cart just outside. I went over to find a skinny old man selling crickets, grasshoppers, and bamboo worms. I could hardly believe that this man made a living selling insects outside of a club! "I guess it's smart since only a completely intoxicated person would consider eating these," I thought as I sampled each one. The grasshoppers were to crunchy and stringy, the crickets were quite good, but I ended up buying a bag of bamboo worms for 20 baht, or about $.06. It's a good thing I have a strong stomach or I would starve here.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Mae Jo and Pun Pun continued
1 Oct 08 -
Each day is structured the same: eat breakfast with the host family (which is cooked and ready whenever we get up), meet the group at Pun Pun at 9 to learn about organic farming and sustainable living for a few hours, eat lunch and loll around for hours, at 5 we meet with the local children and play games, then we're free to do as we please. The first day we played with mud, the second day we played with mud again and made adobe bricks with it, and today we planted kale.
We usually began with a lecture from Pee Joe. Now let me stop for a moment to describe this man because he is someone I truly admire. He shared his story with us - working in a factory in Bangkok for 12 hours a day and still starving. He came to New Mexico to learn about earthen building and brought this knowledge back to Thailand. "People spend their whole lives saving and going into debt for a house, but within a year he had built four houses and still had no money," he said with a friendly laugh.
He established Pun Pun with almost no money, which he did on purpose to prove to local farmers that it was possible to start with nothing. He bought a cheap patch of ungrowable land, for which the villagers all laughed at him. But through his extensive knowledge of soil and farming, within five years he was growing sesame, passion fruit, bananas, papaya, kale, legumes, rice, and a host of other crops. He also grows them all organically to prove to farmers that chemicals are not necessary. He firmly believes that teaching by example is the only way. Instead of lecturing farmers on the importance of sustainable living, he lives it himself and waits for them to approach him. And that they do. He has a steady stream of workshops, trainings, and interns. He charges a reasonable fee from foreign first-worlders in order to teach local Thai farmers for free. I would estimate that he now has about 20 earthen homes on his land. That is why I admire him so much - he walks everything he talks. In fact, he's so hardcore about it that for asthma and allergies he drank his own pee rather than getting medicines, which he claims is very effective.
He described how TV had negatively impacted the lives of villagers. The average life-span decreased sharply because people went from an almost completely vegetarian diet to eating all the things they saw on TV. Many of these foods contain high-fat meats, chemicals, MSG, and other horrible things that people get hooked on. People began working much harder because all of a sudden they wanted the things they saw on TV. The economic system changed from primarily bartering to capitalist, and people began to work so much harder because they needed money for the first time to buy all the products they wanted. To make matters worse, the government swooped in after WWII and told people, "You're poor," a concept which did not previously exist, and forced them to begin growing cash-crops rather than simply what they needed to live.
I felt partly responsible and it strengthened my resolve to exclude TV from my life. Forgive me for sounding so communist, but for the first time in my life I began to question whether capitalism is really all it's cracked up to be... It seems to have destroyed something beautiful here as people went from being perfectly content to insatiable consumers. And who is that really helping? Certainly not them. All of a sudden corporations are swooping in and having them grow their cash crops for them. They say, "we'll pay for the chemicals and the seeds, you just grow it and we'll do the rest." People grow it thinking they're making a decent living when in reality they're getting completely ripped off. But they aren't educated enough to do the math. Now they have to buy all their food back from these corporations because they're not growing their own anymore.
It's a rather depressing story to me, but at least it's not that way in this village. We live the good life here. I spend my 5 hours off in the middle of the day meditating, reading and sipping fruit smoothies at 'You Sabai Cafe,' which overlooks the village. 'Sabai' is a popular term in Thai which means a state of wellness, satisfaction, and contentment - appropriate indeed.
Last night our house was ransacked by a group of small children who wanted to show us a freakishly large insect they had found. We played with it for a couple of hours and I was astonished by the sheer size of it. Everything is much larger here, except the people (I have bumped my head on things at least 10 times). I keep thinking back to Gary Larson's Far Side images of insects the size of humans in the jungle. Tonight I watched some of the guys train in Muay Thai (famous Thai boxing), then some of us did yoga, meditation and reiki. Today was overcast, which was a welcomed break from sweating to death all day. Although whenever I comment on how hot it is here the villagers laugh at me. They somehow never seem to break a sweat.
An old woman died the second night we stayed here and we had the honor of participating in the ensuing festivities. The entire village threw a party for three nights. Then on Tuesday there was a procession to what I'll refer to as the 'cremation station' - a large platform surrounded by benches. The whole village was there and we all had a blast. It was more of a pyrotechnics show than a funeral and many fireworks were lit off as they burned the body. Everyone seemed to be in higher spirits than the funerals I'm accustomed to and it was really nice that the entire village comes. I think the whole thing is viewed more like a celebration of rebirth here - a continuation rather than a loss.
3 Oct 08 -
Yesterday we learned how to make paint au naturale from tapioca flour, clay and sand. Then we had a ton of fun painting an adobe wall with, of course, our hands. That night the villagers dressed us all up in traditional clothing and threw a huge going away party. We ate a pot-luck feast, and then participated in a traditional going away ceremony. We proceeded down a line of the village elders who gave us each their blessing and tied strings to our wrists. The string is meant to align our bodies and spirits. Sometimes when travelling our body arrives at a destination but our spirit is elsewhere - the string helps to unite them.
Next, we lit giant lanterns that floated up into the night sky. And as I looked up at them, suspended under a backdrop of infinite starscape, I felt that blanket of joy come over me once again. The love from these people was palpable - as evidenced particularly by all the tears that were shed while saying goodbye the next morning. I found myself really missing my host mom, Pee Mon. She had taken such good care of us and I had grown attached to her. This was despite the fact that communication was reduced completely to a series of grunts, hand-gestures, and smiles. But what more do you really need? I feel that language is often too distracting anyway - too full of unnecessary chatter, BS, and self-glorification - particularly in the West. "What do you do? Where do you go to school? How much money do you make?" As if that were all that truly mattered. How about, "Who are you? What do you believe in? What are you passionate about?" Anyway, that's quite enough ranting for today.
Each day is structured the same: eat breakfast with the host family (which is cooked and ready whenever we get up), meet the group at Pun Pun at 9 to learn about organic farming and sustainable living for a few hours, eat lunch and loll around for hours, at 5 we meet with the local children and play games, then we're free to do as we please. The first day we played with mud, the second day we played with mud again and made adobe bricks with it, and today we planted kale.
We usually began with a lecture from Pee Joe. Now let me stop for a moment to describe this man because he is someone I truly admire. He shared his story with us - working in a factory in Bangkok for 12 hours a day and still starving. He came to New Mexico to learn about earthen building and brought this knowledge back to Thailand. "People spend their whole lives saving and going into debt for a house, but within a year he had built four houses and still had no money," he said with a friendly laugh.
He established Pun Pun with almost no money, which he did on purpose to prove to local farmers that it was possible to start with nothing. He bought a cheap patch of ungrowable land, for which the villagers all laughed at him. But through his extensive knowledge of soil and farming, within five years he was growing sesame, passion fruit, bananas, papaya, kale, legumes, rice, and a host of other crops. He also grows them all organically to prove to farmers that chemicals are not necessary. He firmly believes that teaching by example is the only way. Instead of lecturing farmers on the importance of sustainable living, he lives it himself and waits for them to approach him. And that they do. He has a steady stream of workshops, trainings, and interns. He charges a reasonable fee from foreign first-worlders in order to teach local Thai farmers for free. I would estimate that he now has about 20 earthen homes on his land. That is why I admire him so much - he walks everything he talks. In fact, he's so hardcore about it that for asthma and allergies he drank his own pee rather than getting medicines, which he claims is very effective.
He described how TV had negatively impacted the lives of villagers. The average life-span decreased sharply because people went from an almost completely vegetarian diet to eating all the things they saw on TV. Many of these foods contain high-fat meats, chemicals, MSG, and other horrible things that people get hooked on. People began working much harder because all of a sudden they wanted the things they saw on TV. The economic system changed from primarily bartering to capitalist, and people began to work so much harder because they needed money for the first time to buy all the products they wanted. To make matters worse, the government swooped in after WWII and told people, "You're poor," a concept which did not previously exist, and forced them to begin growing cash-crops rather than simply what they needed to live.
I felt partly responsible and it strengthened my resolve to exclude TV from my life. Forgive me for sounding so communist, but for the first time in my life I began to question whether capitalism is really all it's cracked up to be... It seems to have destroyed something beautiful here as people went from being perfectly content to insatiable consumers. And who is that really helping? Certainly not them. All of a sudden corporations are swooping in and having them grow their cash crops for them. They say, "we'll pay for the chemicals and the seeds, you just grow it and we'll do the rest." People grow it thinking they're making a decent living when in reality they're getting completely ripped off. But they aren't educated enough to do the math. Now they have to buy all their food back from these corporations because they're not growing their own anymore.
It's a rather depressing story to me, but at least it's not that way in this village. We live the good life here. I spend my 5 hours off in the middle of the day meditating, reading and sipping fruit smoothies at 'You Sabai Cafe,' which overlooks the village. 'Sabai' is a popular term in Thai which means a state of wellness, satisfaction, and contentment - appropriate indeed.
Last night our house was ransacked by a group of small children who wanted to show us a freakishly large insect they had found. We played with it for a couple of hours and I was astonished by the sheer size of it. Everything is much larger here, except the people (I have bumped my head on things at least 10 times). I keep thinking back to Gary Larson's Far Side images of insects the size of humans in the jungle. Tonight I watched some of the guys train in Muay Thai (famous Thai boxing), then some of us did yoga, meditation and reiki. Today was overcast, which was a welcomed break from sweating to death all day. Although whenever I comment on how hot it is here the villagers laugh at me. They somehow never seem to break a sweat.
An old woman died the second night we stayed here and we had the honor of participating in the ensuing festivities. The entire village threw a party for three nights. Then on Tuesday there was a procession to what I'll refer to as the 'cremation station' - a large platform surrounded by benches. The whole village was there and we all had a blast. It was more of a pyrotechnics show than a funeral and many fireworks were lit off as they burned the body. Everyone seemed to be in higher spirits than the funerals I'm accustomed to and it was really nice that the entire village comes. I think the whole thing is viewed more like a celebration of rebirth here - a continuation rather than a loss.
3 Oct 08 -
Yesterday we learned how to make paint au naturale from tapioca flour, clay and sand. Then we had a ton of fun painting an adobe wall with, of course, our hands. That night the villagers dressed us all up in traditional clothing and threw a huge going away party. We ate a pot-luck feast, and then participated in a traditional going away ceremony. We proceeded down a line of the village elders who gave us each their blessing and tied strings to our wrists. The string is meant to align our bodies and spirits. Sometimes when travelling our body arrives at a destination but our spirit is elsewhere - the string helps to unite them.
Next, we lit giant lanterns that floated up into the night sky. And as I looked up at them, suspended under a backdrop of infinite starscape, I felt that blanket of joy come over me once again. The love from these people was palpable - as evidenced particularly by all the tears that were shed while saying goodbye the next morning. I found myself really missing my host mom, Pee Mon. She had taken such good care of us and I had grown attached to her. This was despite the fact that communication was reduced completely to a series of grunts, hand-gestures, and smiles. But what more do you really need? I feel that language is often too distracting anyway - too full of unnecessary chatter, BS, and self-glorification - particularly in the West. "What do you do? Where do you go to school? How much money do you make?" As if that were all that truly mattered. How about, "Who are you? What do you believe in? What are you passionate about?" Anyway, that's quite enough ranting for today.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Chiang Mai, Mae Jo, and Pun Pun
25 Sep 08 -
My first impressions of Chiang Mai are much more positive than those of Bangkok - cleaner, quieter, friendlier, more temples - overall better vibe. I began the day by going for a jog with some others. We stumbled across a waterfall with trails to climb to the top. There we found a slow-moving pool and went for a swim. I caught myself wishing I had brought my camera, as if there were no other means of storing memories but an 8GB SD card.
But that calm voice from within reminded me that it really doesn't matter and I would be better off focusing on simply being present anyway. So I let go and did just that. I floated gently on my back staring at the blue sky through jungle foliage. I realized that I have never felt so content in my life. And for the first time on this trip I was fully present. That familiar sense of bliss enveloped me as every worry I have ever known was washed away by the gentle current.
We at at an exquisite vegetarian restaurant before I performed my afternoon ritual of lolling around and reading. Reading has become somewhat of an addiction and I am somehow on my 4th book in 9 days. All the time traveling I suppose.
27 Sep 08 -
The next morning we slipped off to a small village called Mae Jo where we would stay with our first host families for the next 5 days. We were there to visit nearby Pun Pun, an organic farming and sustainable living and learning center. They serve as a model to teach local farmers and foreigners how to support a transition to organic agriculture. They also host workshops, internships, and trainings, and teach many people how to build adobe and other earthen homes: punpunthailand.org.
The isolated village of about 100 families is unlike anything I have ever seen or experienced. Everyone here seems so happy, and the host families were especially elated to receive us. We sat on the floor for our first traditional dinner. Everything is placed in the middle and we all sit around and pick from the bowls with our hands. The food is so delicious that I completely pig out and can barely walk back to my room to lie down. This would become a pattern and my concerns about losing weight were replaced with fears of gaining some! Unlikely though since everything we eat here is healthy, organic, and grown in the surrounding fields. Passion fruits, bananas and coconuts grow everywhere, and I pig out constantly.
Today we walked a few miles through the fields of rice and corn to visit one of the 9 remaining hill-tribe villages in Northern Thailand. We were greeted by the sounds of children singing. I was literally almost moved to tears and thought for a moment that I had stumbled across the gates to Heaven.
A great transformation occurred in my mind over the course of the day. One of my motivations for this trip was to see poverty and suffering in order for me to no longer take for granted the amenities, wealth and conveniences I was accustomed to. I had found myself becoming increasingly cynical of American culture and felt it would be healthy to get a little different perspective. And that I did. Only it was completely different from that which I had expected. Instead of rejoicing in all those things the West holds so dear, I continue realizing how completely unnecessary all of them really are!
Before I continue, let me do my best to paint a picture of this village: these people literally have almost no possessions - only a small house, some practical things such as pots and utensils, a single rack of clothing for the whole family and a moped. One family had a raft of which they were immensely proud, but their first instinct was to offer it for our enjoyment at the reservoir. Children have no concept of personal property, rifling through our belongings without any understanding of 'our stuff' vs. 'their stuff.' Children, dogs, and chickens roam freely all over the village without concern because nothing unsafe exists here. All of the food is grown in the surrounding fields and most villagers own a small plot of land which they tend to for the benefit of all. Everybody knows each other. The depth of their love for one another is evidenced by the massive grins which span their faces for the greater part of the day. Thailand - land of 1,000 smiles. Everyone here is at peace - perfectly content with a slow and steady pace of life. Everything here is day-to-day and I cannot think of a happier way to live than that. I think this is the very place that John Lennon imagined.
I have found myself deeply questioning whether we are really so much better off in the West with our giant houses, gadgets, gizmos, gas-guzzlers, and grocery stores. All of which serve only to fuel our insatiable appetite for consumption. From what I have seen here thus far, the answer is no. In fact, it seems that all human needs are better fulfilled here than in our own society - particularly those of love, security and an all-encompassing sense of community. While we isolate ourselves in our unnecessarily large houses, paranoid and suspicious of all our neighbors, these people embrace their entire community with open arms and large smiles. While we slave away in offices in a constant state of panic and anxiety about the future, these people tend the fields, take naps all over the place and live completely in the moment. A good portion of the country works for only 2 months a year. One month to grow rice and one month to harvest it. The rest of the year is spent celebrating with an excessive amount of festivals, having fun and actually living life. For example, in April the entire country celebrates New Year's with a 3-day water-fight!
Being here is like traveling back in time. Not only a few hundred years to a much simpler period in human history, but also to my childhood when I could live deeply in the moment without a care in the world. Something was lost along the way from this type of society to "modern civilization," just as we were all robbed of our innocence in adulthood. Something sacred and beautiful that I have been fortunate enough to regress back to.
29 Sep 08 -
We spent the day learning how to build adobe houses. The most fun part was mixing the clay with our feet. It was Margot's birthday so Peer and I picked her up and threw her in the pit, which naturally progressed into a mud fight. I couldn't help but think about all my peers, working 9-to-5's in cubicles and here I am in Thailand - covered in mud like a child and having the time of my life. This village is shielded from the hands of time, and my only concept of each day passing is my penetrating into a deeper layer of joy.
My first impressions of Chiang Mai are much more positive than those of Bangkok - cleaner, quieter, friendlier, more temples - overall better vibe. I began the day by going for a jog with some others. We stumbled across a waterfall with trails to climb to the top. There we found a slow-moving pool and went for a swim. I caught myself wishing I had brought my camera, as if there were no other means of storing memories but an 8GB SD card.
But that calm voice from within reminded me that it really doesn't matter and I would be better off focusing on simply being present anyway. So I let go and did just that. I floated gently on my back staring at the blue sky through jungle foliage. I realized that I have never felt so content in my life. And for the first time on this trip I was fully present. That familiar sense of bliss enveloped me as every worry I have ever known was washed away by the gentle current.
We at at an exquisite vegetarian restaurant before I performed my afternoon ritual of lolling around and reading. Reading has become somewhat of an addiction and I am somehow on my 4th book in 9 days. All the time traveling I suppose.
27 Sep 08 -
The next morning we slipped off to a small village called Mae Jo where we would stay with our first host families for the next 5 days. We were there to visit nearby Pun Pun, an organic farming and sustainable living and learning center. They serve as a model to teach local farmers and foreigners how to support a transition to organic agriculture. They also host workshops, internships, and trainings, and teach many people how to build adobe and other earthen homes: punpunthailand.org.
The isolated village of about 100 families is unlike anything I have ever seen or experienced. Everyone here seems so happy, and the host families were especially elated to receive us. We sat on the floor for our first traditional dinner. Everything is placed in the middle and we all sit around and pick from the bowls with our hands. The food is so delicious that I completely pig out and can barely walk back to my room to lie down. This would become a pattern and my concerns about losing weight were replaced with fears of gaining some! Unlikely though since everything we eat here is healthy, organic, and grown in the surrounding fields. Passion fruits, bananas and coconuts grow everywhere, and I pig out constantly.
Today we walked a few miles through the fields of rice and corn to visit one of the 9 remaining hill-tribe villages in Northern Thailand. We were greeted by the sounds of children singing. I was literally almost moved to tears and thought for a moment that I had stumbled across the gates to Heaven.
A great transformation occurred in my mind over the course of the day. One of my motivations for this trip was to see poverty and suffering in order for me to no longer take for granted the amenities, wealth and conveniences I was accustomed to. I had found myself becoming increasingly cynical of American culture and felt it would be healthy to get a little different perspective. And that I did. Only it was completely different from that which I had expected. Instead of rejoicing in all those things the West holds so dear, I continue realizing how completely unnecessary all of them really are!
Before I continue, let me do my best to paint a picture of this village: these people literally have almost no possessions - only a small house, some practical things such as pots and utensils, a single rack of clothing for the whole family and a moped. One family had a raft of which they were immensely proud, but their first instinct was to offer it for our enjoyment at the reservoir. Children have no concept of personal property, rifling through our belongings without any understanding of 'our stuff' vs. 'their stuff.' Children, dogs, and chickens roam freely all over the village without concern because nothing unsafe exists here. All of the food is grown in the surrounding fields and most villagers own a small plot of land which they tend to for the benefit of all. Everybody knows each other. The depth of their love for one another is evidenced by the massive grins which span their faces for the greater part of the day. Thailand - land of 1,000 smiles. Everyone here is at peace - perfectly content with a slow and steady pace of life. Everything here is day-to-day and I cannot think of a happier way to live than that. I think this is the very place that John Lennon imagined.
I have found myself deeply questioning whether we are really so much better off in the West with our giant houses, gadgets, gizmos, gas-guzzlers, and grocery stores. All of which serve only to fuel our insatiable appetite for consumption. From what I have seen here thus far, the answer is no. In fact, it seems that all human needs are better fulfilled here than in our own society - particularly those of love, security and an all-encompassing sense of community. While we isolate ourselves in our unnecessarily large houses, paranoid and suspicious of all our neighbors, these people embrace their entire community with open arms and large smiles. While we slave away in offices in a constant state of panic and anxiety about the future, these people tend the fields, take naps all over the place and live completely in the moment. A good portion of the country works for only 2 months a year. One month to grow rice and one month to harvest it. The rest of the year is spent celebrating with an excessive amount of festivals, having fun and actually living life. For example, in April the entire country celebrates New Year's with a 3-day water-fight!
Being here is like traveling back in time. Not only a few hundred years to a much simpler period in human history, but also to my childhood when I could live deeply in the moment without a care in the world. Something was lost along the way from this type of society to "modern civilization," just as we were all robbed of our innocence in adulthood. Something sacred and beautiful that I have been fortunate enough to regress back to.
29 Sep 08 -
We spent the day learning how to build adobe houses. The most fun part was mixing the clay with our feet. It was Margot's birthday so Peer and I picked her up and threw her in the pit, which naturally progressed into a mud fight. I couldn't help but think about all my peers, working 9-to-5's in cubicles and here I am in Thailand - covered in mud like a child and having the time of my life. This village is shielded from the hands of time, and my only concept of each day passing is my penetrating into a deeper layer of joy.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
So it begins...
21 Sep 08 -
So begins my journey to Southeast Asia. I'm currently flying over Alaska on my way to Bangkok via Seoul, Korea. It's been almost a week since I flew to CO and I spent a few days with a good friend, Tim Ayer, before meeting my group.
So begins my journey to Southeast Asia. I'm currently flying over Alaska on my way to Bangkok via Seoul, Korea. It's been almost a week since I flew to CO and I spent a few days with a good friend, Tim Ayer, before meeting my group.
My time with him was immensely pleasurable - even more than I could have anticipated. By consciously forming no expectations I opened myself up to be surprised by joy. I rather like this new method as it leaves me more able to remain present and absorb all that I encounter. And that I did. From racquetball to rock-climbing to frisbee-golf to lolling around reading, I enjoyed every moment. Tim was extremely hospitable and considerate and I was reminded of how much I value his company and his friendship.
The drive to Estes Park was breath-taking and I spent the trip plastered to the window like a child. Up we went through a windy valley which had been carved out by water thaousands of years before.
I met the group at 'YMCA of the Rockies - Estes Park',' a large campground surrounded by beautiful snow-capped mountains. It is no mystery to me why many of my relatives and ancestors chose to settle in CO. I experienced joy every morning as I walked mindfully from from the dorms to the dining hall. "I could stay here forever," I thought as I stared in awe at the sheer magnitude and power of the surrounding mountains.
The next 3 days of orientation-type activities went by fairly quickly. Only a few excrutiating meetings of health/safety-type B.S.-ureaucracy. Necessary, of course, and thankfully balanced with fun team-building activities, e.g. a 3 hour hike in Estes National Park!
I am quite impressed with the group. I must admit that I was a bit nervous about many of the members being fresh out of high school - no doubt a direct result of my traumatizing experience as a freshman RA. But these kids are much more mature and open-minded. I suppose that is to be expected of anyone willing to embark on such a trip. They are just the sort of people I love most - open, passionate, idealistic, driven, spiritual - and, therefore, extremely lovable!
Although I'm not the oldest, I've already sort of fallen into my usual big brother-type role - leading meetings, discussions, meditations and whatnot. I rather like this position - mostly because it motivates me to be sure that my behavior is always worthy of setting a good example. I guess I just need the extra incentive because otherwise I tend to be tardy, self-absorbed and slack off. It reminded me of my days as a squadron leader in Air Force training - the only other time in my life that I felt pushed to my full potential, and the only other time that I was this happy.
I have noticed a profound difference, however, in my ability to listen to and incorporate everyone's thoughts, needs, and ideas rather than conform to my old patterns of assuming I'm always right and know what's best for everyone. My attitude toward leadership has also changed, and (miraculously) it's no longer so much about ego for me. Instead of my old line of thought: "I'm the best leader and I like telling people what to do so I somehow deserve this role," it's become more like "I care deeply about this group and would be happy to serve them in any way possible." I believe that this is the result of spiritual progress and a much greater sense of security, which both grew out of my recovery.
And whenever I catch my old ego beginning to be inflated by peoples' compliments, willingness to follow, or a successful meeting, I immediately dedicate the merit of my actions back toward the group and to God in meditation. Then I feel almost as if that much more space has been opened up in me for love to flow freely.
24 Sep 08
After what seemed like weeks of plane flights we arrived in Bangkok just before midnight of Tuesday, 23rd. We took a cab to our guest house, marked by a huge tree and walked through a long alley filled with plants to our destination. I love how much plant-life exists everywhere here - it literally seems to be about half city half jungle.
I slept soundly and awoke quite rested and, somehow, not even a bit jet-lagged. I performed by morning ritual of making my first conscious thought a list of everything I'm grateful for. My first thought was, "Thank you, God, that I'm in Thailand..." I let the gravity of this statement resonate within the confines of my mind for a bit while I glanced around at the elegantly decorated room. Suddenly a large grin stole over my face and I let out a Homer Simpson 'Wahoo!' as I lept from my bed.
For breakfast I found a traditional noodle cart and paid 25 baht, or about 8 cents. "I like this place already," I thought as my eyes and nasal passages flowed like the Nile - apparently the chili powder is a bit spicier here than back in the states. Next came a shower, which was awkwardly housed right next to the toilet in the same room. To make things more awkward, TP does not exist in this country. Instead they have only a high-pressured hose. Well, when in Rome...
As a group, we went spent a good part of the day touring Wats (temples). They were, of course, breathtaking - filled with gold, sensuous architecture and meticulous detail. That night I got a 1-hour traditional Thai massage for about $7 US. I spent the whole time plotting out how to kidnap one of these magnificent women and bring them back with me. Their small stature is quite deceiving as their tiny hands are actually skilled and extremely powerful. I topped off the night by jamming out with some random Thai guys who ran an art shop next door. We sat outside their art shop playing a guitar, 2 drums, 2 dijereedoos (spelling...?), and singing for about an hour.
I spent day 2 wandering around Bangkok. My overall impression is that it's quite overcrowded, filled with junk, and the pungent smell of dead creatures assaults you at every corner. In typical Asian fashion, they eat every ungodly thing imaginable and walking through the market is like a scene from Star Wars on acid. I, of course, partook and ate some sort of strange catfish-eel hybrid that came cooked whole on a stick. It was delicious.
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