Ahh, Bliss!

I don’t know how it could get any better than this!

I woke up this morning around 9:00 to a phone call from Burmese friend Tun Ein, who scolded me for still being in bed. His prompting got me up and to the guesthouse’s restaurant bungalow for a hot Lipton. The staff sliced me a huge plate-load of mangos, which came from the tree next to my bungalow.

As I sipped my tea and delighted in my fruit breakfast, I gave Tun Ein what he demanded: his first Mandarin Chinese lesson—numbers and greetings. Shortly thereafter, Thai friend Chai called to check in. Then I sunk into a comfy reclining position, with a second story view of the river, opened a book and read!

At noon, I picked up a scooter for another day’s expedition. (The guesthouse staff gave me great advice for a circuit.) I followed the same stretch south as on Thursday, this time passing the hot springs and connecting to the highway. It looped me north again, and I pulled off at Pai Canyon. After a brief hike and scan of the area, I mounted my motorbike again to continue on to Mo Paeng Waterfall.

The scenery along the way was great. And there were restaurants scattered along the road that looked inviting. I’ll come back here tomorrow, I thought to myself.

I turned off the highway again, and headed into the hills. Curiosity inspired me to follow signs for a “Fishing Park” posted along the same road as led to the falls. I should nearly be there…, I thought each time I saw another arrowed sign that promised smiling, gilled-friends.

By the time I finally arrived, I was relieved that I hadn’t been on foot or bicycle when curiosity first struck. The “Fishing Park” looked pleasant and relaxing; prices weren’t bad; and the "farang" (Thai word for “Westerner”) fishing had the catch to show for his efforts.

I’ll be back tomorrow, I announced.

Continuing on to the falls, I passed through a Lisu hill-tribe village. Farmers were burning old fields and raking at the ground with long-long, skinny, bamboo hoes. The land looked dark and fertile.

When I reached Mo Paeng Waterfall, I ate my sweet bun from 7-Eleven, dipped my feet, and consulted my map. The waterfall looked like any in Colorado’s mountains, except that it was surrounded by tropical jungle rather than pine forest.

On the retreat downhill, I turned into Santichon, a Chinese hill-tribe village. The ethnic-Chinese people here come from Yunnan province, in southern China. I spent about 30 minutes at a tea shop, sipping Oolong cha, nibbling on dried fruit, and chatting in Mandarin with a woman in her fifties and a twelve-year-old boy. I’d have imagined that their Chinese would be some dialect incomprehensible to me, but they spoke clear Putonghua… and Thai, and the boy spoke a little English.

En route towards home, I decided, It’d be nice to go back there tomorrow too…

Before sunset, I dropped my day gear off at my bungalow. Then I cruised a stretch of road going northward, looping back down to town on the other side of Pai River. For dinner I devoured a coconut curry.

Ah, BLISS!

A Splendid Day

Yesterday morning I arrived in Pai, a bit worn from the last 14 hours on the bus. By the time I’d secured a bungalow near the river, it was still not yet even noon. So I rented a motorbike and rode the 8km southeast to the natural hot springs.

The ride was gorgeous. Jungle on the left, farmland on the right. Everything was so lush and alive. I passed by a handful of elephant camps. The rain was on and off again, but light.

While you can't take a dip at the actual park, a local resort allows non-guests access to their hot spring pools for a small fee. So I enjoyed a relaxing soak in luxury setting before heading back to town.

Before bed, I had a terrific pumpkin curry for dinner and a bit of time on the Internet.

It was a splendid day!

The Warm Fuzzies

Last night, during the course of a very long bus ride, I began thinking about all the people in this world who have touched my life. As I rolled through names, faces and shared experiences floated across my mind. No sooner than I'd think I'd reached the end, I'd recall a whole other group of individuals who hold a special place in my heart (for instance, my teachers K-uni and beyond, my college acappella group, Brenda and the senior ladies in her weaving class...). The list went on and on! It was so beautiful that I had to make an effort, more than once, to keep my smile non-vocal. (My fellow bus passengers were sleeping.)

There is no possible way for me to write all your names here. But you know you're on my list. And I want to tell you that I feel so blessed that you are.

Thank you!

Things I love about Thailand...

• Yellow polo shirt Mondays --- every Monday vast numbers of Thai people don the yellow polo shirt, a sign of respect for the King. I don't think there is any place on the planet that respects their monarch as much as the Thai do. What they think about the prime minister and other government might be a different story. But the people genuinely LOVE their king. And they haven't loved every king, just the 5th and the 9th (the present).


• Banana pancakes with chocolate sauce and condensed milk --- sliced bananas fried inside a crepe-like pancake. Liquids on top. These babies are less than a dollar from street vendors.


• Mango and sticky rice --- with coconut milk... need I say more?


• ...to be continued...

Travel Update

Hello Loved Ones, I know I'm behind in posting, but the update is this:

I'm in Bangkok, Thailand, waiting for my passport and visa documents to process. I should arrive in China by next week. I'll meet up with friends, Isaac and Rachel, in Beijing. Then I plan to catch a train to Chengdu to visit friend Meg who works in the field of micro-credit. As I'm sure you've all heard, Chengdu suffered from a treacherous earthquake, and aftershocks, this month--the current death toll as of this writing was over 51,000. More than 29,000 people are still missing. And almost 288,500 people are counted as injured. (Thank goodness Meg is okay!)

Back to Beijing at the end of the month for a Chinese language course I think. Then maybe I'll be volunteering in some capacity with the Olympics in August. We'll see. I have a position with the Paralympics (the official games for athletes with physical disabilities) in September.

Since my return from Myanmar, I've been back in Sangklaburi (Thailand) helping out at the children's home's school a bit. It's been a great opportunity to hang out with my friends here. I'm always sad to leave. The photo here is of me with a few good friends.

By the way, thanks to everyone for checking up on me after the devastating cyclone in Myanmar. Luckily for me I had already left. My heart goes out to all the good people affected by the disaster. The current official death toll here, according to the Myanmar government, is nearly 78,000, with almost 56,000 people missing. The UN and Red Cross estimate a much higher figure.

R.I.P.

The incident was horrible. Neither of us saw it coming. It all began with the simple task of taking out the trash. Our small rubbish bin had reached its capacity and I took it upon myself to tie up the bag of odiferous fruit waste, walk it out to the gate, and plop it into the iron container the locals use here for neighborhood refuse collection.

It was on the trip back to the house that it happened. It was dark out with the exception of the light from the front room shining through the open door. I made long brisk strides from the gate to the porch, with my mind on the chance encounter with sinister boogiemen hidden in the blackness.

With the first step onto the cement patio, I heard the familiar crunch of a pinecone. Almost simultaneously, there was a croak, not especially loud or angry, but rather of mild and belated surprise. It was too late by the time I’d registered: There aren’t any pinecones in Thailand…

I looked over my shoulder as I continued forward away from the criminals in the shadows. At just a glimpse I was instantly aware of what had happened. I shrieked and shuddered all the way through the entrance, down the hall and to Nadine’s room. I squashed a toad! I maimed a frog! I heard it crunch under my shoe! I think it’s still alive. I heard it crunch! I heard it CRUNCH!

The full weight of my body had already born down upon him, concentrated in the space of my right wooden platform sandal. From the corner of my eye, I had seen an unsymmetrical dark lumpy shape and an outstretched leg.

I’ve blocked out the rest. Of course it was dark out, and the unlucky spot was at the edge of the porch, the edge of the light--

I couldn’t look again. My lovely housemate came out to inspect the situation. I waited in the lit front room as Nadine evaluated: It’s not so bad… She made sure there weren’t any amphibian parts stuck to the bottom of my sandals. I heard a splat outside. And that’s all I needed to hear.

That poor toad and I shared an enormous shock. I would aim to bet that our heart rates jumped about the same degree in the same instant. The difference of course, is that mine stayed up, whereas his… didn’t.

~in honor of The Toad, whose life was cut short~
May 11, 2008