That was easy

Every book I read before I set off around the world perpetuated the American belief that travelling is difficult, trying and sometimes even scary. If someone had told me that travelling was so easy, I would have done it a long time ago. The books told me to pack light, but you rarely actually have to carry your pack, so I think a little bigger would have been better. The books told me to bring durable shirts and pants, but clothing is so cheap here in Asia I have bought and thrown out more items than I brought. They worried me about visas (how long they take, how much they cost), but same day visas for any country can be bought for less than $50 at any travel agency. Long story short, travelling is easy. Almost everywhere there are Internet cafes to book travel and correspond, people are always willing to help you, there are other travellers all around to meet up with, amazing guest houses for $5-$20 a night, and pretty much everyone speaks English (or tries to.) Although some people I know have had some misfortunes, (knock on wood) I haven't had anything stolen, haven't gotten sick, haven't had any botched travel plans, and overall have been pretty lucky. It is nice to know that today there is NO place I am scared to go. I told my mother that when I head to South America I am going to visit Columbia, to which of course she replied "OVER MY DEAD BODY" as I might get kidnapped with all the drug wars going on, but then again she also told me I was going to be sold into sex trafficking if I came to Asia (which I obviously wasn't, not yet anyway.) Travelling is not what I thought it was going to be, it's easier.


After a relaxing night in Hanoi I caught an early morning flight to Bali, with a layover in Kuala Lampur. On the plane ride to Bali I met Craig, an Englishman who I would end up travelling with for the next week. He was the only lone traveller I saw so I asked him if he wanted to share a cab and later a hotel room (it is that easy!) Off the plane we headed to an area called Kuta, AKA. Australian Party Central, where it is high season for thousands of Australian tourists. The street blocks are small, lined with shops selling clothing, knock-offs and other souvenirs, massage parlors, restaurants, guest houses and surf shops. Since the streets are so small (usually there is only room for one car) the traffic is horrible which leads to tons of beeping, motorbikes driving on the sidewalk, and cars blocking every turn. There are at least 50 bars and clubs blaring music, and begging you to come in for a free drink. The beach is gorgeous, but had so many tourists and people selling you things (massages, bracelets, bow and arrows (!), that it didn't make for a relaxing afternoon. We rented boogie boards and tried to brave the massive waves, and peeped in on a beach wedding that was going on at a local resort.



Over the next couple of days we rented a motorbike and drove outside of the city. Since I unfortunately left my Southeast Asia Lonely Planet on the plane, I can't tell you specifically where we went, but I'll do my best. We drove to a town called Ubud, and to the coastal town of Nusa , all the time admiring the beautiful pagodas and statues which are everywhere, and the idyllic scenery - inland jungles and rice paddies with massive volcanoes rising in the distance and amazing ocean views from the coast (and of course don't forget the occasional Dunkin Donuts and KFC.) We stopped off at couple of beaches to lounge, eat, and take pictures, but spent most of the day cruising. At night we went to dinner, walked the chaotic streets of Bali and even danced one night away at the popular local night club "Sky Bar."


After spending 3 days in Bali, I wanted to head to the Gili Islands to do some scuba diving, so Craig and I caught an early morning shuttle bus to the dock (where it seemed each of the drivers was racing to get us there, weaving in and out of traffic, etc., only to tell us "30 minute breakfast break" upon arrival), then a 2 hour boat ride on "Gili's Island's fastest transport", to the largest of the three Gili Islands, Trawangan. I thought I had seen some beautiful beaches until I got here - white sand, light blue water, and in the distance those same beautiful volcanoes.

The island itself is quite small (it takes about 1 hour to walk around), with one dirt road that doesn't allow cars or motorbikes (horse-drawn carriages only) lined with shops, guesthouses and restaurants. We did some scuba diving, lying on the beach and lots of eating. Although still touristy I thought it was an amazing get-away. After 4 days Craig and I parted ways, me back to Kuta to catch a VERY early morning flight to Manado, while he stayed in Paradise heading to another Gili Island (there are 3) called Gili Air.




I arrived here in Tasikoki Wildlife Rescue Centre near Manado on Sulawesi Island two days ago, where I plan to spend 2 weeks volunteering before I head back to Australia to live for a couple of months. All I have to say is, "my vacation is over" - with lots of animal poop, sweat and bugs I am no longer living in paradise!

What came first, the tourist or the change?

During the third week of August, every year, "out-of-towners" would swarm into my hometown of Bridgewater possibly the smallest town in the state of Connecticut, for the annual County fair, stopping in front of my house to ask stupid questions like "where is the Bridgewater Fair?" and "are we in Bridgewater?", while the lights, sounds and smells of the event were clearly just steps away. These types of questions would send me into fits of giggles, thinking "how could these people be so dumb", and of course, left me appreciative that this tourist attraction was only for 3 days a year. As I invade small towns all over Southeast Asia, yelling questions to people, like "where is food" (as I make fast hand to mouth gestures) and "is that the border to China?" (pointing rapidly with my finger) I realize I am far worse than any Bridgewater Fair tourist - I don't even speak the right language. Being in Asia for the past 4 months and seeing what a wonderful place it is, I want to tell people from all over the world to come visit, plan your next vacation here but wonder, does Asia really need more tourists? I spent the last 3 days in Sapa, a little city perched in between the mountains of northwest Vietnam, surrounded by small minority villages. Every morning van loads of tourists pour into the town, where the villagers flock from miles around to sell their crafts and trekking trips, asking you over and over again "you buy from me?", waiting outside restaurants looking longingly at you, until finally after sheer frustration and hours of them following you, you buy an ugly scarf they hand made (and subsequently another scarf because the lady next to her says "why you no buy from me, you buy from her?") Although the villagers say they like tourists because we bring money, I have to assume that Sapa and the surrounding villages were fine before we arrived. As a tourist I never intend to change the places I visit, but over time places change to suit traveller like me, sometimes drastically. As much as I want the rest of the world to see Asia, with every tourist a piece of Asian culture, history and beauty is taken away, which are the reasons we visit in the first place. It seems to be an endless cycle of "what came first, the tourist or the change?", to which I do not have an answer, or a solution for the future. All I can say is that I am happy I got to see Asia the way it is today, before it changes any further.


After spending $150 on custom-made clothing in Hoi Ann, I needed to get out of there (before I bought more) so I headed to the city of Hue, a 5 hour bus ride north along the coast. Another bustling Asian city set on the Song Huong River, which served as the political capital from 1802 - 1945, is described as "the intellectual, spiritual and cultural capital of Vietnam."

All over the city, and on the outskirts, are crumbling citadels and opulent tombs of the previous emperors. I only had one day to explore so my new friend Tom and I took a motorbike to see some of the tombs, ruins and pagodas, a Japenese covered bridge and a demonstration from a local on how to harvest rice. That night I remembered why I don't stay in dorms anymore when one of my fellow 14 dorm-mates threw up all over herself and the wall - great!



That night I caught a sleeper bus (to those who aren't familiar, this bus seats about 40 people but all the seats recline to a comfortable snoozing position) to Hanoi. Much to my dismay I stayed at another hostel, and while there met some girls I would end up travelling with for the next 6 days.

We spent that day wandering around the chaotic city of Hanoi, and that night watching a traditional Water Puppet show (on the stage is a large square pool of water where puppets perform), which may have been fairly interesting had I known what they were saying, but turned out to be not interesting at all. Even the traditional Vietnamese music wasn't appealing, since ALL the sleeper bus blare this high-pitched singing all night long.



The following day a bunch of us headed to Halong Bay on a 2 day tour hosted by Hanoi Backpackers. Halong bay, unlike any beauty I have ever seen, lies in the Gulf of Tolkin, and as you look out over the water you see 3,000+ oddly shaped rocks jutting into the sky , some even with holes and tunnels in them from the rain and wind. Unfortunately the Hanoi Backpackers trip is pretty much a "booze cruise" and despite the sombreros we had to wear, the forced drinking games and late night antics, I still was able to thoroughly enjoy myself and the scenery.


After a tiring bus ride back to Hanoi, we caught the overnight train to Sapa. I can only describe Sapa and it's surrounding villages as a combination of The Lord of the Ring's Shire and a super-advanced golf course.

Rice patties in layered tiers line every lush, green mountain, while white clouds perch at the top. As you wind through the mountains, you look down into the valley at the small villages that line the river. We had an all-female motorcycle gang for two days as we toured through the mountains and spent our third day trekking to a local village, all while being closely followed by the locals and their crafts.

Although the town of Sapa was quite picturesque, the street we stayed on was so narrow that ALL morning and night drivers would beep (that is what they do here in Asia, beep, a lot) and the street sellers would wait outside for you, accosting you the second you stepped outside. Overall the trip was amazing and fun, but not exactly relaxing.


After the night bus dropped us off back in Hanoi at 3:30 in the morning (thanks for that), I splurged and checked into a nice guesthouse with air conditioning and a TV for a whopping $16 a night. I spent the first day relaxing and watching TV and today my Australian friend Mick and I rented a motorbike and while he braved driving through the city traffic, I sat entertained on the back. We attempted to go to see Ho Chi Min's body, but it was closed. We went to the Ho Chi Min Museum but were told 15 minutes after arriving that they were closing (right in the middle of the day), and lastly when our 2 hour drive to the perfume pagoda turned into a 4 1/2 hour EPIC adventure (which included a lot of karaoke to Willie Nelson's "on the road again" "and we're back on the road again" "and we're back on the right road again") we finally arrived to everything being closed. Overall though, it was a great last day in Vietnam. Oh did I mention the Australian restaurant we wanted to go to was closed as well?

I am currently in the Hanoi Airport on my way to Bali, where I will stay for 10 days!

Vacationing in "Nam"

Vacationing through Vietnam certainly begs the question; could my children vacation to Iraq in 30 years time? I am sure my parents never imagined that I would be enjoying the chaotic buzz of Saigon, the white rolling sand dunes of Mue Ni, or the beautiful "Miamiesque" beaches of Nha Trang , all in Vietnam, a country that was the site of warfare and bloodshed just a few centuries ago, but I am. Vietnam is truly amazing, and the farthest thing from what I imagined. Every traveler has their opinion of certain countries or cities, and after receiving them, I discard them immediately. I have yet to find a place I haven't liked, and find that by keeping non-existent expectations I always end up pleased. Vietnam is no exception, but despite what people told me the jungled war-torn "Nam" of my youth was all I could envision, but it has been eye opening seeing the other side of the coin. Vietnam has a lot more infrastructure than Cambodia or Laos. As you drive through the patch worked countryside of fields and rice paddies, you see concrete houses, paved roads, and lamp posts. Vietnam borders the Pacific Ocean (the Vietnamese do not like it being called the South China Sea) which means stunning beach vistas at every turn. I thought some of the other Asian nations had a lot of motorbikes until I came to Vietnam where 60% of the population is said to drive motorbikes (but here at least people actually wear helmets.) While some travellers said the street sellers and people were unfriendly and persistently hostile, as long as I keep my spirits up with them, they have been nothing but pleasant (even knowing that I am American.) The only thing that hasn't been amazing, is the power outages. Due to lack of rain, Vietnam sells its electricity to Cambodia, so every other day entire cities lose power (which means cold dinners, hot sleeping conditions and dark nights) - ugh!

The first thing I did when I got to the Chaotic Ho Chi Min City was find Rego (my former travel buddy), who had been staying in the city for a couple of weeks watching the world cup, eating, drinking and sleeping (lots!) I peeled him out of bed and dragged him to some of the sites. First we headed to the Cu Chi tunnels, a 200km tunnel system outside of the city which housed the Viet Cong while they ran an effective ground operation during the war, where you can crawl through part of the tunnels (which have been widened for the westerners), shoot an AK-47 for 30,000 dong a bullet ($1 = 18,000 dong) and see the horrific jungle traps that were built and used on the American Soldiers.

The videos and commentary were clearly anti-American, and when I went to the War Remnants Museum later that day, I was not proud to be an American. I remember growing up hearing my mother speak of her neighbor and other friends who died in the Vietnam War, and even going to the Washington DC memorial to etch one of the soldier's names onto a piece of paper. What no one told me was that while we lost 50,000 people in the war, Vietnam lost 3 million (2 million of which were innocent civilians) not to mention the hundreds of thousands of people that live with the side effects of the chemicals, like Agent Orange, that we poured into their country. I realize there are two sides to every war, and like the protesters of the past, I do not want my children to look back on our current political situation with the same shame that I have to bear today. War is not the answer, then or now.

While in Ho Chi Min City, I also checked out the neo-Romanesque Notre Dame Cathedral and the Reunification Palace (built in 1966 to serve as the Presidential Palace, this was where the first Communist tanks crashed when the South surrendered to the North).

A day trip to the Mekong Delta, a series of islands that lie where the base of the Mekong River meets the Pacific Ocean, included a boat trip down one of the many rivers (with a funny cone hat on), watched (and tasted) coconut candy being made, played with a snake and drank honey bee tea while watching a traditional song and dance performance. After convincing Rego there will be other places in the country showing the World Cup, we headed north to Mui Ne.

Mui Ne is one long road parallel to the beach with lots of cute little restaurants, guesthouses, resorts and beachy shops.

The white sandy beach had lots of wind, so much that kite surfing schools have popped up all over the town, (there were about 50 surfers to every swimmer.) The only problem with Mui Ne was that there were no people there, and had I not been with Rego finding a friend would have proved difficult. On our second day in Mui Ne we rented motorbikes and cruised out to the "sahara of Vietnam", white and red sand dunes that oddly juxtapose the mountainous and beach landscape.

When we got there people charged us to park our bikes, charged us for plastic mats to sled down the mountain, and 3 little girls carried our sleds, showed us how to do it, offered to take our pictures, and then demanded 20,000 dong each at the end. The sweaty afternoon of sand sledding and bike riding and a hilarious night of attempting to get around in the flooded road after a severe rain storm, was well worth the stop in Mui Ne.

Our next stop was to the beach town of Nha Trang. A gridded city based along a beach as long as Miami's, but definitely not as clean or crowded. Some friends complained of late night robberies (although too drunk to put the scheme together, they all said money was taken out of their wallets), but overall I thought the city was nice enough. During our first day we headed to the beach and while I laid out in my bikini, the locals took swims in their shorts and shirts. That night we camped out at the local sports bar "why not?", and watched the USA world cup game.

There were 3 other Americans who helped support, but the majority of the crowd were bitter English, screaming "Go Guana" while expressing their other anti-American opinions. The following day a bunch of us headed to the Vinpearl waterpark (which included a ride in the longest over water cable car) and that night watched as the English were beat with the karma stick with their embarrassing 4-1 World Cup loss to Germany. Unfortunately Rego decided to stay in Nha Trang for another 2 weeks to watch the ENTIRE world cup (which I obviously didn't want to do), so we had to part ways again. We are hoping to see eachother again in Australia, or at my wedding day (I told him he could be one of the bridesmaids.)

I am currently in Hoi Ann, a quaint town set on the Thu Bon River. The "city" served as an international trading port as far back as the 17th century and is influenced by the Japanese, Chinese, and other European Cultures, which is apparent when walking through the narrow streets, which are lit up by colored Chinese lanterns at night. All around the city are historic Japanese and Chinese architectural sites, but what you actually find the most of are tailors - "hey lady, want a suit? How about a shirt? Nice dress lady?"

There are at least 200 tailor shops all trying to get you to custom make cheap knock-off suit, shoes, wedding dresses, anything! They have popular clothing catalogs and you point to what you want, and the next day they make it at a fraction of the cost (just without the label!)

I also took a motorbike out to the ruins of My Son (about an hour outside of the city), set under the Cat's Tooth Mountain, these remains of the Cham empire were not breathtaking, but the scenery around them was well worth it. On the bike ride home I got a real taste of the Vietnamese "wet season", and the rain everyone's been waiting for. We felt a few drops of rain, so we pulled over and bought ponchos, which reminded me of another Goos family holiday to Bermuda when we were forced to wear these ugly "garbage bags" everywhere because we never had a vacation without rain. As the monsoon poured down on us, children came out to play in the flooded streets and screamed as we passed. Even though raindrops at 40mph is a little painful, this memorable experience was actually kind of fun!


Tomorrow I am headed north up the coast to Hue, then to Hanoi the following day!

To Give or Not to Give, That is the Question

When I budgetted for my world trip I didn't account for my bleeding heart. After a fun-filled night of playing trivia, drinking, and laughing, I head back to my guesthouse in Siem Reap. As I walk back a young girl, shirtless with torn pants and a dirty face jumps into my arms, while another girl grabs onto my hand. For a second I am reminded of a Goos family holiday taken back in 1995 to Italy when my dad, wearing a "fanny-pack", was robbed by a mob of seemingly innocent children, so I search for my wallet - it'still there. They start chanting to me "hungry, food, hungry, food, food, food"; I mean this is the stuff of my nightmares, and I say to them "sure I'll buy you some chocolate or chips", which are words I'm sure they don't understand, so I carry them into the convenience store. The second I walk through the sliding door, in what seems like a well rehearsed scheme, they walk over to the baby formula and hand me a $17 canister, this time chanting "for baby, please, for baby." (I have since learned the scam is to return the formula to the store and get the money, after I've walked away with my do-good-for-others feeling.) Needless to say, I left the convenience store having bought the formula AND plenty of chocolate, chips and candy. Cambodia is a country stricken with poverty, and everywhere you go people want your money. From the constant berage of "hey lady, tuk-tuk? where you go? motorbike?" the second you step off of a bus or leave a restaurant, you could even have just gotten off a tuk-tuk; to land mine mutilated people selling books and postcards out of a basket that hangs around their neck, surrounding you when you sit down to eat a meal; or restaurants yelling you the specials on drinks and food as you walk by. I have since spent money on $10 worth of school supplies for the orphanage I am teaching at and $18 for last-day presents to the children, a $10 donation to an orphanage in Siem Reap, over $14 on books from street sellers, $10 on pencils for the school at the floating village, and the list goes on. I have had many a heated debate with other travellers as to whether or not it benefits people to give them money. I ussually conclude the debate by saying "Well, you think the money we give goes to bad things like drugs and alcohol, and I think the money goes towards good things like food and education. Since we will never know the truth, I will keep thinking it it goes towards good things." As I drive through the country I often consider the impact a small monetary donation from each US citizen would have on the population here in Cambodia - it would be big. I think the answer to the question is, GIVE.


In my last couple of days in Siem Reap I hung out at a rooftop pool (which cost and astronomical $11 for a couple of hours compared to the $6 a night I was splitting for a guesthouse ), met up with my friend Tim from college for dinner, and visited an orphanage where I fell in love with a little boy named Tye.

The following day Jodi and I set out on a morning bus to Battambang, which my lonely planet describes as "home to Cambodia's best-preserved French-period architecture", but I just felt like it was another busy Asian city. With a central market selling fried bugs and spiders, squirming fish in buckets, eggs containing dead baby chickens, hand made scarfs, and knock-off purses, and the typical asian traffic (swarms of motobikes, tuk-tuks, cars and cyclos going in all directions), we decided not to spend too much time there. On our first and only afternoon in Battambang we took a tuk-tuk ride out to the countryside.

One of the main tourist attractions is a bamboo train, which is basically an old railway line that now provides the locals with means of transporting their goods - atop a bamboo mat on transportable wheels, so if anyone is coming in the other direction the cart with the least amount of goods has to get everyone and everything off, break down the bamboo train and let them pass. The best part of this bumpy ride was stopping at a little "village" where they forced us to eat fried banana chips and drink soda while I rose to celebrity status introducing the children to my iPhone.

On the way back we stopped to see homes where they make bamboo cakes (they put coconut milk, rice and black beans into a stick of bamboo and cook it over a fire), rice paper and Cambodian "cheese" (this is not cheddar people, its made from fish!)


The following morning we left Battambang and decided to stop in a place called Pursat, a town off the beaten backpacker path. When we got off the bus we were accosted by people trying to get us into their guesthouse, and after we found a place and started our walk around town, the looks of escaped zoo animals began. Clearly there aren't a lot of white people in Pursat because we were the afternoon entertainment. While most of the children would scream hello to us, the adults mostly gave questioning, unfriendly looks.

Pursat has another bustling market, lots of motobikes, garbage strewn all over the streets (in Cambodia most people cannot afford to have their rubbish picked up so they just throw it on the ground, out the window of their car, etc.) and a couple of old temples.

We took a scenic 45 minute tuk-tuk ride through the countryside, with bamboo homes, water buffalo, rice padies, and screams from children when they caught a glimpse of us. We ended up at another floating village, which was far less touristy than the last one, but still had a floating gas station, mobile phone shop and lots of smiling locals. After an early night, we took a morning bus to Phnom Pehn.




What I didn't know about Cambodia shocks me. Between 1975 and 1979 the Khmer Rouge, at the hands of leader Pol Pot, killed approximately 1,700,000 Cambodian people in acts of mass genoicide (1/3 of the population!!) With radical Marxist ideas Pol Pot murdered any person who was not a simple working peasant (including anyone with an education, governmental position, city job, etc.) One of the books I bought from a crippled street seller is called "First they Killed my Father", and I highly reccomend it to anyone interested in Cambodian history.

WIping tears from my eyes, this book explained how the Khmer Rouge told the people living in Phnom Pehn that the US was going to bomb the city, so the people were evacuated to surrounding villages where they were starved, and eventually murdered in truly violent ways. In the center of Phnom Pehn a former high school was turned into a prison called S-21, which is now a torture museum documenting the horrific acts of the Khmer Rouge .

About 30 minutes outside of town are the killing fields of Choeung Ek, where most of the 17,000 detainees of S-21 were executed. The memorial stupa which stands in the center of this rolling field displays over 8,000 human skulls, bringing to life the reality of this atrocity. Many of the locals I meet and even the orphans I teach have lost parents and other relatives to the Khmer Rouge. Considering the history of this war-torn country, I think Cambodia is doing pretty well.


Phnom Pehn also has a casino (where I won $8, and subsequently a few nights later lost $10), a royal palace, 3 markets (the Russian market, Central market and the Night Market), lots of great restaurants lining the esplanade which runs along the Mekong River, massage parlors ("hey lady, you want massage, good deal for you"), and thousands of tuk-tuks, motorbikes, cyclos, busses and street sellers (hey lady, where you go? you need a ride, good deal for you.)


After seeing some truly strange and ridiculous things here in Phnom Pehn I adopted a new motto, "why not."

For example: Why not wear your pajamas all day long? People all over this country wear two-piece, ridiculously patterned pajamas, all day, everyday. Or, why not wash your hands with a coke? Yes, I saw someone doing this. Or, why not drive on on the wrong side of the road? Whether taking a left hand turn immediately or in 4 miles, someone turning left onto a road instead of crossing traffic to get into the right lane, will pull into the oncoming traffic lane and ride there for as long as they feel like it. This, and not having stop signs or stop lights at intersections makes for a very strange, but organized chaos. Lastly, why not wear long sleeve pants and shirts, gloves and hats in 100 degree weather? The people here are so afraid of getting sun that they wear as much clothing as they can (not to mention all their face creams have whitening in them, which is pretty annoying for someone who likes to have a tan!)



The best part about my stay in Phnom Pehn has been my experience teaching English at an orphanage for the last week. Although I intended to head south to the coast for my last days in Cambodia, I couldn't pass up this opprotunity to work with the local children. I have been teaching two classes of 20 children, ranging in age from 4 to 15, basic English (sounds of letters, dictation, word recognition, etc.) Some of the older kids just want to practice their English, and during the conversation hour ask basic questions ("Do you have a boyfriend" is always a favorite, and one even asked me to sing "My Heart Will Go On" from The Titanic, which I did, horribly.) I truly enjoy teaching. Maybe it's a future career path?



On Sunday the 20th I am off on my own again, to Ho Chi Min City, Vietnam. My former travel buddy Rego is there, and I am hoping I can convince him to travel north with me. I will spend twenty days in Vietnam, before my July 10th flight to Bali, Indonesia.

Pickled

I am in a pickle. I have only been travelling for 5 months but the vagabond lifestyle I have been experiencing has become so addictive, I am not sure I will ever be able to return to living a "normal" life. Countries I used to think were in lands far, far away, are now places I feel comfortable. The idea of travelling alone which used to send me into a panic, now seems like the best way to travel. Staying in one place for an extended amount of time, doing the same thing over and over again now seems boring. Travelling, seeing different places, experiencing unique cultures, meeting new people all the time, are elements of my current life that I don't want to give up. I am so scared to walk through the door of my family home in CT and have my mom to say to me "So, what's your plan? All your stuff is in boxes, and we need to do something with it. Where will you live? What will you do for work?" For someone who has not had a plan in 5 months, and operates on the motto of having the "NO plan, plan", I wonder if I will ever be able to adjust back to the way life used to be... Maybe i will, but I think once a pickle, never again a cucumber. Fortunately I have another 10 months to prepare.

I am currently in Siem Riep, Cambodia, after spending 20 days in Laos. I booked a flight from Hanoi, Vietnam to Bali, Indonesia on July 10th, which means I have a little over a month to see both Cambodia and Vietnam, so even though I would have loved to stay in Laos longer, I have to keep moving.

After my last post I spent another day in Luang Prabang, rented bicycles, toured some temples, spent the afternoon at the waterfalls (again), and a night watching Sherlock Holmes at a guesthouse's outdoor theater. The next day we got a 12 hour bus ride to Laos' capital city Vientiane, another former French settlement perched on the banks of the Mekong. The Bible (my Lonely Planet guidebook) tells me the city becomes more sophisticated every year, and I can see many western additions popping up (coffee shops, restaurants, huge hotel resorts being built on the river).


Although many of my fellow travelers felt Vientienne was just another bustling city, my three days consisted of a visit to the Buddha Park (a green field filled with concrete statues of Buddhas, alligators, temples, and other structures that make for great photo opportunities), a quick stop at the Loas National Museum (where I was horrified to learn that an estimated 260 million "bombies" were dropped in Laos in the late 1960s, 70 million of which failed to explode and continue to plaque the nation's people), a $100 visit to the Australian Embassy to have my burn looked at (my mother is happy, my bank account is not),

a sightseeing trip to the Golden Temple and Vientiane's Arc deTriomphe replica (made from cement donated by the USA - woo hoo, maybe this makes up for all the bombs we dropped), and a couple rounds of bowling at one of the city's two bowling alleys.

You know how it feels when you are sitting anxiously on an airplane waiting to see who your seat-partner is going to be, each person who rounds the corner of different size, shape, and smell invokes horrifying thoughts of how you will spend your upcoming hours. Well now imagine that you have to sleep next to that person for 12 hours. Welcome to the Vientiane to 4,000 Island Sleeper Bus, a double decker bus with 12 beds each housing two people (and if you're alone you're out of luck in picking your partner.) After a brief panic session, a few times of saying "absolutely not", and some desperate pleas to people using movies and cookies as bait, I ended up with a friend I met briefly at my guesthouse (it beat the other options!) But, it still wasn't relaxing rolling around (literally), in a bed with someone you barely know.

4,000 islands is a cluster of islets and sandbars at the end of the Mekong (which really should be named 12 islands, 3,088 grassy patches).

We spent the first two nights at the largest island Dhon Khong, which although 5 times the size of the other islands, there wasn't much going on. With the least amount of Falang (white people), it had an untouched feel, and driving our motorbikes around the flat island, sprouting with raised bamboo homes, water buffalo and decaying temples, felt real. After two nights of going to bed at 8pm, we decided to head to Dhon Det, a more touristy island about 45 minutes down the river via boat.

We spent our days baking in the heat, lounging in hammocks, tubing, bike riding to the other island Dhon Kohn to see a huge waterfall, and our nights watching the sunset, eating at one of the many restaurants, and "partying" in a tiny village which shuts down early.



Since the native waitstaff seem to prefer spending their time watching TV and sleeping, I even spent one night "working" at a local restaurant, bringing people beer, food and menus, while my friends watched with smiles.

The bus ride from Dhon Dhet to Siem Riep was pretty awful. We got picked up at 8am, waited in the boiling sun until 11am for our bus to pick us up, and then after a inopportune trip to the bathroom, I ended up sitting on a plastic chair in the aisle for a 20 minute trip to the border. When we got off I ran through the check-point where corruption allows each person who touches your passport to charge you $1 (yes, they use American dollars here in Cambodia), so I could get an actual seat on the bus. I sat down next to my friend, but when the original seat owner came back a battle ensued, and eventually I had to sit back on the plastic chair for an hour until someone got off the bus. One idiot slept through the checkpoint so we had to wait for him, all of which resulted in a 12pm arrival time in Siem Riep.

Siem Riep has been built up to serve tourists visiting the temples of Angkor, the eight wonder of the world. I hadn't heard anything about the city itself, but was pleasantly surprised. Small streets lined with french-inspired restaurants offer amazing decor and menus (at a fraction of the cost), another huge market selling knock-off's, fresh food and other native souvenirs, and lots of falang. My crew and I got up at 4:30am yesterday to watch sunrise at the Ankor Wat temple, and like any other popular tourist site I was a little disgruntled with my experience. Hundred of people shuttle through the site and line up to get the perfect picture, and then some chick in an all white suit decides to walk onto the temple and become a permanent white blob in your photographed memory. Even though the ruins were amazing, by 10am we were all "templed out", and headed back to our guest house to nap. That afternoon we took a tuk-tuk out to the floating village, 300+ boat houses of Cambodians who fled the Khmer Ruge and 30 years later have stayed on the water. We were inundated by boat-bound beggars, with crying children of all ages chanting "one dollar, one dollar", to which no amount of money we gave was enough. We even bought $5 pencils to give to the floating school, but still left feeling like there has got to be a better way to give to these impoverished people.

My current crew is breaking up within the next couple of days, and my path will take me south. First to Battambang, then Pursat, Phnom Penh, and eventually to the beaches and islands off the southern Cambodian coast before heading into Vietnam around the 20th.

I think I know Better

When I spoke with my mother about the people of Laos and their innate cultural differences to what I have known growing up she expressed sympathy for them saying "they don't know any better", and I got to wondering, is the American life actually "better?" In Laos, some of the people live in the nicer homes in towns like Luang Prabang or Vientanne, while others live in bamboo villages with little running water and 12+ family members in each house. The average monthly income for a person living in the city is 1,000,000 kip (about $100) and the average monthly income for a person in the rural village is 150,000 kip (about $20.) They eat dogs, rats (I saw a child chowing down on a rat head the other hand filled with sticky rice, eating it like it was PB&J snack time) and anything else they can catch. In the river (which all the livestock and people live off of), they bath, fish, brush their teeth and do their laundry. I have to admit growing up watching discovery channel videos of Southeast Asia I always felt sorry for these people too, but now I see that this more simple lifestyle is not awful, just different. As I walk through villages I see children being held by their mothers, kids playing, families gathering and people smiling and laughing. The Laos people are friendly, curious and willing to help you if they can. They seem more connected with their family than most American families I know. Mothers spend all day with their children. They don't put their parents in nursing homes, but keep live in the same house with them. Families eat together. Children play together. People spend their days at the river, laughing and smiling. They eat natural, unprocessed foods, live off the land and don't even own mirrors (how nice that life would be!) I suppose I could feel bad for them, but then I see the "better-off" America, filled with people who work 60+ hours a week in front of a computer, give their children to strangers to raise so they can make more money, who are constantly finding ways to look better, younger, and more fit, and use their legal rights to sue others over anything they can think of to make an extra buck. Perhaps the American way isn't the best? I think now I know better!

After a night in Luang Nam Tha, Toby, Emma, Mike and I rented motorbikes and drove 2 1/2 hours out to Mai Sai. Even though we only spent about 1 hour there, we were inundated with women trying to sell us their crafts/bracelets (we even had an old naked lady run after our motorbikes on the way back, which was one of the funniest experiences I have ever had.)


Besides the ridiculous burn I got on my leg from the exhaust pipe, the journey was amazing, beautiful, and almost indescribable. We stopped at a couple of villages, met locals, I ate some smashed up bugs they use to spice dishes, and took videos of locals (which they love to look at afterward, as they rarely see their own faces in pictures.) Laos is less touristy than Thailand, so the rolling hills and lush green forests feel more untouched.



The following day we did an 8 hour kayak trip. The highlights included talking with our native guides about their culture, eating a true Laos meal of skewered fish, hard boiled eggs and sticky rice (all prepared over a fire, and laid out on Banana leaves by the side of the river), Emma getting stuck in the rapids and stopping in at another village.

The following day we caught an 8 hour minibus ride to Nong Khiaw, which was an experience to be remembered. Forget about the beautiful scenery, the live chickens on board or even the blaring Laos music, the best part was our in-person example of Laos justice. About half way through the bus stops and we all get out to witness a confusing scene. A much bigger bus is stopped in the road in front of us, a man is on the ground looking sad (but fine), and a bunch of Laos people are standing around yelling at one another. After some time, and a serious traffic jam, we learned that the man had supposedly been hit by the bus while working, and was refusing to get out of the road until he gets money (1,000,000 kip.) After 45 minutes of people yelling at each other while the man sat there looking sad, eventually a large amount of money was exchanged and we got on our way.

Nong Khiaw was amazing. (Someone told me that some of the Avatar scenery was modeled after this place!) On either side of a huge river filled with boats and locals, connected by a long bridge, are jutting black mountains with lush green trees overflowing from its edges; butterflies literally swarm around you; chickens and pigs roam through the streets and beautiful flowers bloom in every garden.



We spent two days doing pretty much nothing, visited some local caves, ate some Indian food and relaxed in our paradise. Mike, Emma and I took a 6 hour boat ride down the Mekong river to Luang Prabang while Toby headed north to Muang Mgoi Neua. The boat ride was well worth the 200,000kip as the scenery was amazing and hearing the local children yelling "sa-ba-dee" (which means hello in Laos) while they wave enthusiastically made me feel like a celebrity!


Luang Prabang is a little piece of France in the center of Southeast Asia; quaint, homey and lively, the riverside restaurants, white stone buildings and breathtaking vistas stole my heart on arrival. At night the main street closes down to host a night market filled with silver jewelery, handmade bedspreads and Asian lamps (but you must be back to your guest house by 12pm as ordered by strict Laos rules.) During the day you can hear the monks banging on drums from the neighboring temples, walk along the cafe-lined streets or hang out at Utopia, a seriously chilled lounge bar with an indoor sand volleyball court and lots of bamboo perched on the banks of the Mekong. I have only been here for three days and already feel at home.



Yesterday I took a trip to the Kuangsi Waterfall Park with a couple of new friends being the waterfall connoisseur that I am, I am pleased to say these are BY FAR the BEST waterfalls I have ever been to with crystal blue water and rope swings - sheer beauty and fun! As for today, I have done a whole lot of lounging... It is easy to do here!

Some of the Grass is Greener

I want to take this public opportunity to say a few negative things about travelling. Don't get me wrong, this is hands-down the MOST amazing thing I have ever done in my life (so far!) and I am blissfully happy, but being away from "home" for months at a time does have its self-imposed downfalls. Travelling takes a toll on your body. When I first began my journeys I would see girls who had been travelling for a while with some extra weight on their bones, bug bites all over their legs, motorbikes scars (both new and old), broken finger nails, etc., and think to myself "that is never going to be me!" Well four months into this journey I am sorry to say I haven't escaped the backpacker body woes - my legs are covered in mosquito bites, I recently was involved in two motorbike "accidents" (don't worry Mom I am fine) which left some serious scratches on my leg, have thrown healthy eating and exercising to the wind, and definitely try to avoid dealing with the caked dirt in my fingernails. I miss my body, my gym, and my manicurist. The wickable/fast drying clothes I brought from America are ripping and fading, and the new clothes I am buying along the way don't last long either. If you spend more than 5 days with me you will be sure to see the same clothing on rotation, because my 50l backpack doesn't carry much. I miss my overflowing closet. I even miss the Danbury Mall. It has been about 100 degrees here in Asia everyday which means guarenteed frizzy hair and break-outs like a 12 year old. I miss the New England spring, my haircare products and my own bathroom where I can spend as long as I want primping myself. I have met at least a hundred amazing people along the way, who after only a few short days have to say goodbye to. I miss knowing that when I meet someone I may actually see them again. I miss having consistent friends and family in my everyday life. For those of you who are toiling away at your computer, working for the weekend and your two-week holiday, please don't hate me for this one; as I lie in a hammock, bed, or on the beach, reading and soaking up the sun, I even miss work. I find myself sick of rest and relaxation wondering how things are going at my previous place of employment. I suppose some of the grass is greener, even when your prairie is fertilized with dreams.


Although I am missing home, I am still loving travelling. I am pretty sure I want to be doing this for at least another year (or as long as I can make my money last) - career, marriage and babies can wait!! I never had a 401K anyway, 'gasp!' After my American Doctor friends left me in Chiang Mai, I went out for a walk around dinner time and sat down to eat with a random New Zealand guy named Steve. It turns out he was going to a Thai boxing match that night so I tagged along with him and two other people from his guest house. By the end of the night I had seen a midget fight a 12-year old boy, watched naked ladyboys dance to YMCA, and got to make fun of Gordon Ramsey, a famous chef, who was filming something at the table behind me. He was sitting there all by himself and I said "Are you making a show about being alone?", and he said "yup, its about having no friends. Then I told him we would make a cute couple, he agreed. The following day Stevie and I toured around Chiang Mai, saw some temples, went and heard a buddhist monk speak about buddism (yawn), and added some more people to the "wolf pack". The next day five of us rented motorbikes and toured around the mountains outside of Chiang Mai landscaped with lush green jungles, friendly locals and bamboo villages (I am finally coming around to the joys of riding a motorbike!!). The following day, the now 6 of us, decided to head to Pai, a small hippy town in northern Thailand.


Pai is the type of town I could stay in forever. The town is only about 3 blocks x 3 blocks wide, with a small river bordering our guest house "The Breeze of Pai"; there are only two 7/11's (which is amazing for Thailand), the streets are littered with quirky clothing shops, hand-made jewlrey stands, thai restaurants and unique bars. During the day the falangs (white people) head to Fluid, a pool across town where they serve drinks and food; at night the streets close for a night market and people head to the Bamboo bar or Ting Tang for partying into the early hours. The town is small enough so after having been there for just a day I already felt at home, waving to people I met the day before. We never intended to spend 6 days there, but we did. Most days consisted of sleeping until 11 or 12, uncessarily driving our motorbikes in caravan-style to get brunch at one of the local restaurants, heading out of town to one of the waterfalls (and even once to the canyon for sunset), long hours swimming and sleeping at Fluid, lying in the hammocks at our hostel by the river, reading, sleeping, and just plain relaxing. We had our motorbikes for the full 6 days so we also spent a lot of time travelling out of town to see the amazing Thai landscape and local villages. The only downfall to Pai was the power outages. In the middle of dinner, the whole town would go black, (or worse when you are in bed, and your only fan would die.) They happened at least once a day, sometimes for minutes and sometimes for hours!


Four members of what I have come to call The Wolfpack headed from Pai to Chiang Rai - Toby, Josh, Magnus and myself, while the others went their seperate ways. Chiang Rai is a similar city to Chiang Mai (all this rhyming is getting confusing, I know trust me), but smaller.

We got a great guesthouse, splurged on air conditioning and cable TV (since we didn't have it in Pai) and spent the first afternoon sleeping and watching American movies like The Fifth Element, James Bond, and even Schindlers List. Did I mention I miss TV? I got an oil Thai Massage and we went out to dinner to celebrate my 22nd birthday (and I got the biggest sundae EVER)!

The next day we rented motorbikes and headed out of town to a waterfall, Josh put diesel fuel into the bikes (which gave the locals, who drained the bikes for free, a good laugh), and met up with some American friends we met in Pai at the local night food bazaar where we enthusiasticlaly played Catch Phrase into the evening hours.


Yesterday we said goodye to Magnus then Josh, Toby and I headed to Loas on a 6 hour public bus ride (with only rotating fans - so hot). After a night in the border town of Huay Xai, Loas, Toby and I headed north to where we are now Luang Nam Tha (Josh got on the 2-day slow boat to Luang Prabang.) We already added two English people we met on the minibus to the wolfpack and will probbaly do more trekking or motorbiking tomorrow. As for now, its more rest and relaxation. Ahhh, travelling. ;-)