How I survived myself

It is another lazy day in Paradise. Should I get a massage? Take a yoga class? Rent a kayak? Tough choices, so Im choosing to hop on line and write. Today is the one week left mark. Hard to believe. Last night as we lay on the beach watching a thunderstorm in the distance, enjoying a beer and the generic trance music blaring into the night sky, my thoughts drifted again to what I will be taking with me when I return. What will I be leaving behind? Travelling is like opening the front door and letting all these strangers enter the rooms of your house that once stood empty. On this journey, I have let roosters into my life. I have opened the door and in walked stray dogs and coackroaches. In marched the ants. I have let in the ocean. Welcomed clear and stormy skies. I sent out an invitation to french toast, sunburns, and 16 hour bus rides. Hello noodle soup, hello Mr. Kangaroo. I have let in daydreams and music, the British, the French. Welcome all ye sleepless nights and foolish mistakes. Welcome to my life. I have let the world in with its skyscrapers and its shanty towns. It beggars and players. Its lovers, its haters. Its games, its valleys, its laughter, its tears. I have let in long stretches of white sand and dirt roads and new friends. I have looked up and let in the stars. If you stood and peered inside my windows you would see us all. The silk scarves, the palm trees, the dolphins, the secrets, sprawled out across the living room. We are sipping coconut shakes while the moon gets drunk off boxed wine. We are dancing barefoot in the kitchen now. The universe and I.

We arrived on Koh Tao yesterday afternoon. Tired, hot, and hungry. Yesterday my homesickness was unrelenting. After dinner I made my way to 7-eleven and an international payphone. When the man behind the counter informed me that it was broken I promptly burst into tears. I exited into the street and walked a few minutes, audibly sobbing and feeling pretty pathetic for having tears in Paradise. I decided though that I would have to suck it up and cough up the outrageous price that private phones cost and get my mommy on the line to persuade me from changing my flights and remind me that I am a couragous woman. I’m blessed to have people in my life to remind me of these things, because at times, as much as I want to change my own state, I need a little kick start.

Travelling as a group of four, Victoria now with her boyfriend, has been a much greater challenge than I anticipated. The core tape that screams at me when I am feeling out of esteem is “I dont belong” and these last few weeks I have been battling this voice as I struggle to see where I fit in in this equation. There have been many times when lonliness has been my committed, but unwelcome friend.

Its not that I am not enjoying myself, two days ago I had the best massage ever-my tensions being kneaded and melted by a tiny Thai woman, the ocean crashing on the shore, distant music, a cool breeze, and giggling from the ladies as I struggled not to laugh as she massaged my feet. I also took in a legendary Full Moon party, which I actually remember because I remained closer to sober than everyone else on the whole island. The beach was packed with flourescent painted revellers, fire dancers, pulsing beats, and nobody noticed or cared that I was dancing like a total lunatic because they were all high on mushrooms!

Nevertheless, and maybe because the island vibe is almost too relaxed, my thoughts have turned inward, and started to take inventory on what these last few months have meant for me. Sometimes, in those silent moments, the heart struggling to make sense of it all, it hurts a little. Okay, thats an understatement. Both the fear of leaving and the fear of going home collide in an explosion of… who knows what.

Yesterday, 12 days until chocolate chip cookies, cowboy boots, my bed, my puppies, my family, my friends, Jesse, and flush toilets felt like an eternity. I couldnt even see the beauty all around.

Today, after my mothers words and a goodnights sleep (actually, a mediocre sleep as there was a coackroach on the bed and the roosters started crowing at 4) I awoke with a new pair of glasses and finally saw some light again.

I have 12 days left, and as I ate my french toast in a little restaurant perched atop a scattering of boulders, the ocean lapping beneath me and a breeze in my hair, I looked out at the vast and open sea, and realized, in 12 short days, I’ll be missing this as much as I miss home today.

I am writing this post from the Dreamland resort in Ao Thong Pan Nai. In otherwords, Paradise. We spent our first night on the island in a thatched hut with bird droppings, spiders and coackroaches and are now living it up for a whopping 8 dollars a night at a resort with a flush toilet, hot wayer, fan, pool, and a view of the beach. It is my last two weeks of this journey and I am relaxing, dreaming, swimming, and enjoying the sunshine that warms my skin and my soul. We are on what is known as the party island in Thailand, but the vibe is about as relaxed as it could possibly get. Last night we hung out with a few people in hammocks at a bar on the beach and where supposed to join them for a party, but we went back to our room to get something and decided to be no fun at all. So instead of dancing the night away with new friends, we chatted late into the night and awoke at 9 am hangover free  and ready to stretch out in the sun for a fabulous day of nothing. But in the nothing, in the stillness, in the childrens laughter as they splash in the pool, in my book, and in the breeze, I have found a little something called bliss.

The only unfortunate part of being on an island is the prices dont really feel like thailand anymore so this will likely be my last blog for a few days.

I’ll let you know how the Full Moon Party goes, that is if I dont end up in the pysch ward here! They have to bring in extra staff for the parties due to the number of revellers who trip out to far on mushrooms. Not exactly my bag-but it should be an experience in people watching!

P.S. My tan is AWESOME!

Upon arrival at the airport in Bangkok you are greeted with a banner that reads, “Welcome to Thailand, Land of Smiles.” When no common language exists with which to communicate, a smile goes a long long way.

Victoria and I are now alone in Changmai waiting for the overnight bus to Bangkok so we can go south! The boys are staying up north an extra week to volunteer in a hill tribe community. Due to time constraints Victoria and I decided to forego the opportunity for an even more selfless and enriching experience-our tans.

I did have the chance to spend some time with a hilltribe community and while I may not be putting in a pipeline to bring them fresh water-I did contribute to the humanitarian efforts by drinking rice wine and buying a hand woven scarf. I should pretty much be given a Nobel Prize. 

All kidding aside, the trek and overnight in the village was an incredible experience. There were 8 of us in total. The four Canadians, 2 Brits, and our 2 guides. One guide was from a hill tribe and though did not speak much english, was hilarious. Our other guide Pot learnt english from the ten years he spent as a buddhist monk conversing with american monks. He taught us a great deal about the local plants and animals and we had a great chat about what it was like living in a monastery.  Boys here are encouraged to enter the monastery two times in thier lives. First as young boys, and then again after thier military training before they wed. The day began with elephant trekking which we had opted out of. It turned out that this particular place treated thier animals with much more dignity than the last place we had been. However, becuase we didnt trek we got to spend the time playing with a baby elephant and her mom and aunt. She was quite naughty and attempted to steal our water bottles and refused to let go of her vice grip on Johns hand. It was good to see an elephant smile.

Next we hiked up a mountain where we had to cross rivers on bamboo bridges and were serenaded with what I thought to be chainsaws, but turned out to be a particular insects voice. It was hotter than hell,  but were rewarded with a cool shower from the cascade of a waterfall. After lunch we climbed higher up the mountain through terraced rice farms and dense jungle until we arrived at the village. Not so remote that there was no road or electricity, but not so metropolitan that every house didnt have cows and chickens and pigs roaming the yards. As we were walking around trying to find “Jungle Stadium” where the boys where playing soccer, a group of men invited us to sit and speak english with them. It was a disaster as we attempted to sit in the traditional thai way by squatting with flat feet on the ground. There was not so much english spoken, but a great deal of laughter heard as we nearly toppled over into the cow patties. When our thighs and calves could take no more we wandered back to our hut and had a nap beneath mosquito netting until we awoke to a couple of the local women and children peddling thier wares.

At night we were supposed to have a campfire with the villagers but it rained so hard that it was just us and the guides eating delicious yellow curry and being forced to down shots of gut wrenching homemade fire in a bottle retchidness. I was totally outdone by the boys and the guides and unlike them, woke up hangover free. A blessing as the hike down was not easy as the trail was thick with wet and slippery mud from the previous nights rain. Once down the mountain we went bamboo rafting. We assumed it would be pleasant and peaceful but due to a swollen river, it was slightly terrifying and heaps of fun!

It was two days of smiles I could do again and again.

 There is a conversation that has come up with a number of people we have met in different places on our journey. It is a running joke among Europeans, mainly the Irish, that every Canadian is actually part something, mainly Irish, and that they never fail to bring it up. Perhaps, it is because, as in most cultures, our ancestry is a part of who we are, and as Canadians, it is both our blessing and our curse, that our pasts are a rich tapestry of threads, gathered from all corners of the globe, and woven together in patterns we dont always understand from where we are. Is it possible to be from nowhere and everywhere all at once? I look at the Irish, knowing they are Irish, owning thier Irishness, and I wonder what that might be like. To have one place in the world that is, and always has been, home.

I have a home in Calgary. It is home in most every sense of the word. Full of the people and places I love. Yet still, I yearn. Still I am called away.

Perhaps, it is my ancestors voices that I hear calling. Calling from all over the world. Beckoning me from Poland, from Spain, from India, from Scotland, from Portugal, from Kanchanaburi, from everywhere, to come and find them. To come home to the great wild world.

Right now, the great wide world is in Chang Mai. In five days time, in Ko Phanagn. In three weeks time it is in Canada. Yesterday was beautiful, today is beautiful, and tommorrow will be too. Tommorrow better be beautiful actually. We are heading up into the mountains to spend the night in a hut in a hill tribe village, and today it rained down buckets as we navigated steep and winding roads on our motorbikes.

Thank you for your words from home.

P.S. Happy Mothers Day to all my mommies of the heart tommorrow!

She stands alone now. Chained up and used up. Her grey skin like a blanket draped loosely on her hollow frame. Too tired to swat at the army of flies. Too tired to lay herself down to die. She watches our caravan pass with her glazed and sunken eyes. Watches the pathetic parade make the same loop over and over, day after day. And I see her and I wonder who she might have been. Was she proud once? Did she smile once? Did she ever roam free? And I have to look away then, I’m afraid I might scream. I have to look away then from the tower of bones she became.  I want to leap from atop her sisters back and run through the field of shit to stand beside her. But how do you hold an elephant while she cries? How do you sing an elephant lullaby? How do you lie and think you can make it alright?

I dont know why the elephant I saw was clearly dieing. I dont know if nature was taking its course, but it looked like punishment in my eyes. And perhaps it is because of the cruelty I saw inflicted on the other elephants that I cant get her out of my mind. We asked our guide why the elephant we were on had torn ears, and in a manner of hand gestures he explained that he cuts peices off and eats them. I thought he was joking. But he didnt smile. I feel ill with shame that I supported such a place. Helpless too, that there isnt much I can or know how to do. If I hadnt gone though I would never have knew.

Aside from my sadness over this, I am learning so much in Kanchanaburi. There is a museum here dedicated to the P.O.W’s who built the bridge over the River Kwai during the second world war. A part of history I was completely blind to until 2 days ago. Over 100 000 lives were lost on this little stretch of railway linking Thailand and Burma. Its all too easy to forget the human aspect when you see the bridge, but esterday as we rode the train along the rail, I could almost here the stories of the ghosts of men in the chugging of the engine.

We also went to Erawan Falls yesterday morning and swam in the pools while monkeys swung above our heads. The most fascinating part of it all though was the spectacle Victoria and I caused. A group of Thai swimmers asked us if they could take our picture and then proceeded to take about a hundred. The men all wanted to pose with us, so they would get thier wife to take the camera and then they would call another friend over to get in the photo. It was totally the most bizarre scenario I have ever found myself in. Victoria and I were howling with laughter as this continued for a good 15 minutes.

We were going to leave for Cang Mai today, but Victoria was feeling ill today so we are leaving tommorrow instead. Today has been spent doing absolutely nothing at all. A delightful change of pace. Hard to believe I have less than a month left. Im not quite ready to come home…

I am now in Kanchanuburi, listening to the rain beat a rythym on the tin roof. After Pattaya David and I returned for one night in bangkok to celebrate his birthday. Victoria’s boyfriends friend has been living her for 8 months so he took us out on the town. We ate the most incredible Indian food I’ve ever tasted. The best taste of all was that this bountiful meal, drinks included, was only 8 dollars each!! With satisfied bellies we then headed to a stand where we shared some “buckets”, a Thai specialty, and people watched on Khoa San road. Next we went to a nightclub that I could only handle for about 10 minutes. It made Cowboys on the first Friday of stampede seem dead. We were the only “pharang” in the place and were greeted with many smiles and drink offers. We took the smiles but passed on the whiskey. The rest of the night was spent in an Irish pub watching football and learning Gaelic ballads from some guys we met on the street singing.

The next day we said farwell to Bangkok and headed to the ancient capital of Autthaya. There we discovered crumbling ruins of buddha images and temples set amongst the concret jungle that makes up New Authaya. Our first night we took a night tour to see the temples all lit up. Absolutely stunning to see, but unfortunately (or maybe for the best) the spectacle cannot be captured on film. Authaya is known for its packs of dogs that roam wild in the streets, so our walk home was spent trying to stay out of thier territory. The mass volume of stray animals here has been one of the more heartbreaking aspects of my entire trip. To see a dog covered in blood, its skin hanging from its back, or like one dog we saw, curled up with a trickle of blood streaming from its penis onto the pavement, is unfortunately, not an unusual sight. It is injustice that is hard to turn your back on, but what can I do but hold back tears and walk on by?

For all that saddens my heart here though, there is so much more that brings complete bliss. Yesterday afternoon for instance, we rented Thai motorbikes and navigated the crazy traffic and gravel roads and got delightfully lost. For those who know me well, getting on the back of a bike and trusting that I will be safe is a huge stretch. To my great surprise, it was actually so wonderful to feel the wind on my face and weave in and out of buses and cars at over 80km an hour. I know its not really a big step, but I felt liberated from many fears each time we hit a bump in the road or zoomed by an elephant and waved at its rider.

Later in the afternoon we left the boys with the bikes and took a river boat to three of the temples. The temples were amazing, but even more interesting was the abundance and beauty of life along the river. Young boys impressing eachother with flips off docks, old men baring thier bottoms and a wide grins as they took thier nightly bath, babies in thier mothers arms waving wildly as we sailed by.

With every smile, I swear I feel lighter.