Home is where you hang your toothbrush holder . . .

Well, we’re now about 10 days into our stay in Muang Sing. How to describe this little town?

Great market, with lots of veggies (critically—onions, garlic, potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, cabbage, cucumbers), herbs (some known and some not—galangal, lemongrass, cilantro, parsley), plus chickens/ducks (live or not, with feet hanging out, and being carried about by feet or in “chicken purses”—I heard a quack and thought “oh, that person has a duck in their bag” but indeed the bag was the duck, just protesting being carried in an undignified manner), plus live eels swimming about in plastic bins, lots of noodles (dried or being “scissor-cut” from larger-than-lasagna-like sheets that have been folded for easy cutting), some fruit (rambuttans, oranges, semi-flavorless mangoes due to season, oranges, few pineapple, some bananas, rare pineapple, few and somewhat flavorless apples, grapes, peaches, plums). Nextdoor a “mall” of sorts (big u-shaped building with lots of shops and a u-shaped interior corridor, all shops with garage-door sorts of openings), housing stacks of clothes, or Chinese plastics, or wash basins, rice cookers, woks up to 3-feet across, hoe or shovel heads, pesticide sprayers, cell phones, various sugarized drinks (we like the mango, tamarind, yogurt drinks and occasionally soy milk boxes) and “popped candy” or shrimp-flavored snacks, palm oil, fish sauce, chili sauce, polyester clothes or bedding . . . quite a place!!

We’re surrounded by beauty . . . we’re in a very wide valley, surrounded on 3 sides by hills that are moody, surreal, often cloud or mist-covered. It’s rainy season which means green-ness is all around, also means that at least we can’t predict the weather. Our first few days here were very rainy, perfect for the poetry I’m intending to write. The hills are covered with quilt-patterns of plantations, either “upland rice” (which doesn’t have flat, water-filled terraces but instead can grow on steep fields), or more often rubber plantations.

The weather’s good . . . mid-day is warm and certainly in the sun is downright hot, but mornings and evenings are cool. If you move around you get sticky, but after a shower lying still you’re cool. Fortunately for us the bugs are also relatively few. Our guesthouse is screened to keep out the biggies / baddies, the little black gnats still get thru so we leave the light mostly off above our bed. The idea of them makes us itchy but I don’t really think they bite much.

And we’ve made several friends . . . We've met some fabulous folks who are here doing local NGO work--and who know people we know! There's a couple named Brian and Laila from Santa Barbara, CA. They’re here doing very "off-the-beaten-path" health development work, and have a kids play / development time every afternoon, 4-6pm that Neil has quickly gotten involved in. She practiced for years as a pediatrician in the US, and he's a photographer by trade, now her right-hand man in health / development work. Also have met a German woman, Ingrid, working here for GTZ (the German govt-related NGO / bilateral group) on agricultural development with the ethnic hill tribes, around livestock development. Also have met a Chinese woman, Yunxi, who's getting her PhD in anthropology from a univ in Australia, by studying the Akha ethnic tribe (effect of rubber plantations on them), which shares ethnic heritage with her own ethnicity--the Hani people of China who Neil so enjoyed visiting a couple of years ago.

We've had some trouble finding a place to live. We were all set to move in with Yunxi as she has a big house (WITH kitchen and bath which seems to be the stickler here) and was happy to share, but then we got into a complicated negotiation translated with 3 separate languages involved, with her landlord, a policeman who lives right next door. It was clear the idea made him very nervous, they were worried for her safety, for their liability, for lots of things. (At one point Yunxi said something like, “so let’s speak frankly—in the worst case scenario if they killed me, he’s worried about something like that?” and everyone chuckled nervously.) We finally gracefully backed out which made everyone much more comfortable and we all remain friends. I bought two small pillows from the policeman’s wife a few days ago, and also visited with his brother-in-law (who speaks English) a bit. I was concerned we would jeopardize Yungxi's relationships with them, which wouldn't be good as she needs to stay and do her research for months to come, yet. Anyway, so we've finally made a 3-week agreement with the owner of Chan Thimeng guest house, a very beautiful concrete two-story building in a beautiful, quiet part of town that overlooks stunning rice fields, is quiet and breezy and cool. Has a beautiful terrace. And importantly, is far away and pointed the opposite direction from the town loudspeakers which seem to include news and nationalistic music from about 6:30-8:30am and Buddhist chants in the early evening. And they've agreed to let us set up our electric wok, rice cooker, and dish basin (no running water near the cooking area, just work with a basin). So we’ve bought our cooking appliances and a few basics and some food. Nga, the young woman who runs the guest house, is very helpful and friendly. We’re exchanging light coaching on how to pronounce numbers (she in English, me in Laos—I’d never thought about how subtle the difference between 30 and 13 is. . . ).
There's also a very nice man named Pohon whose family has a restaurant overlooking the rice fields, and who runs tours/treks up to the ethnic hill tribe areas. We've been helping him with the English for some of his displays about his tours, and in return have had several yummy veggie lunches. He speaks English and seems like a nice, good, hard-working family man. They also run an "herbal massage and sauna" business--though I for one can't imagine going into a sauna most of the time here. Neil and Pohon together built us a wood / bamboo shelf so we can hang our clothes and feel less like we’re living out of our suitcases. Quite the lovely piece of furniture!! Note the instructions from the local tourist office / and police / and management unit, these are the “guest house rules” that are the same in each guest house, which addresses things like “be in by 10pm” and no prostitutes or drugs. We've bought bikes (which we're enjoying very much!) and Neil collaborated with a nearby mechanic to weld an extension to the "post" so his seat is a good 4-6" higher than other bikes in town, making his knees much less sore!

As we've met especially the NGO expats who live here, and described that we want to live here for a month just "to be and to see", we got looks that I imagine we'd have given people when we lived in Juba, Sudan, if they said they just wanted to live local. Like: "Why did you pick here? What are you going to DO?" I feel self-conscious to sit and read my book / write my poems when there truly is poverty and need around and I see NGO folks working their 14-hr (or even 6-hr) days in demanding conditions. Hmm. Were we silly to try this here? I feel that we’ve probably picked a harder / poorer place than we realized initially. I do feel self-absorbed to sit here cool in my tidy little guest house room while farmers till their fields outside despite leeches, snakes, bugs, hot sun, etc.,--even the government workers here reportedly make $40/month so supplement with farming or other things. Neil commented that I’m a bit self-absorbed with my self-absorption—hmm, that’s a bit of a twister!! But I am doing a lot of reflective thinking about how best to spend my time here, and also how I want to spend the rest of our year after we leave Muang Sing. Seems that doing a sabbatical “well” is a bit tricky. I see in myself and I’ve seen in a few colleagues on sabbatical recently, a restlessness, unsureness re: what to do with oneself, etc. It really does seem to be an unnatural way to live, not to have daily work. Plus, I fear I’ve become a bit of a “city girl” and perhaps even in a US town this size, would have trouble finding enough to do.

So . . . on the good side, it's not too hot, the people are friendly, we've made friends here both expat and local, we’re both healthy so far, the market has a-plenty (only thing we're lacking is good bread and a place that has cheaper ice cream, so far have only found that at one of the guest houses in town for a whole 50cents per ice cream bar, which amazingly feels expensive. :-) ), there are many cute baby animals around, we have a comfy, clean place to sleep at night, and the pace of life here truly is slow. Really, our troubles are few.

On the other- (I hesitate to say down-) side, we don't have our own house, it's a little "tougher living" here than we thought, and the need nearby makes one self-conscious about being too pamper-ey or even leisurely with one's time. We have to leave Laos to get our visa renewed as of Sept 12, and I think it's unlikely that we're return to Muang Sing, though we may come back to check out other parts of Laos, not sure. Anyway, we've negotiated to stay here until then, so it will be nice to do less "logistics" and more other stuff like writing and reading over the next few days. For me, part of it will be determining some of my personal objectives for this year--as Yunxi my Chinese friend here said, "oh, you're such an NGO person!!" when I told her that. Yup, guilty as accused. It will be nice to get into a bit more of a rhythm as so far it's felt like moving around, getting settled, making decisions, etc. I've found myself having reactions I recognize as "missionary wife-ish" like when Neil throws my pillow on the floor to sit on, or BRINGS a gecko into the room to show me, but then it gets loose, or my custard apple is covered with little tiny, white, pill-bug-like creatures which I attempt to eat around, or I just really would love some fresh orange juice or whatever. Ha!! Have seen that and felt it before in other settings! I'm trying to be "zen" and be "above" needing to control my surroundings. And feel okay about the fact that I do love a cool shower, feeling clean and not sticky in the middle of a warm day. Ah well.

Yvette and I have wonted to write a bit of poetry and impose some more discipline on ourselves. Yesterday morning we headed out for a longer bike ride and an early start, but this morning we just lay in bed sleeping in, finally rousing ourselves to pen a few lines of poetry:

Sweat - the lubricant and the adhesive
by Neil
It beads on my forehead and carries the day’s dust into my eyes
My soaker hose arms pop out small beads which merge into pools and then an even gloss
My shirt clings to me now, becoming a second sheer sticky skin
Another loosed button invites cooling, but evaporation and humidity are equally matched in this moisture war
I envision a not too far moment of comingled sweat as our bodies slip together
The coolness of a breeze mixed with the heat of passion
But my visions are for the younger - the infatuated
Comfortable reality calls for a shower


Bangkok Monsoon Season
by Yvette
Stinky sauna, sweat seeping into and out of one’s skin
Slippery sidewalks, stones setting sideways, shifting
Storm water rushing, gushing, supplanting sewer smells.

Picks and Pans: Bugs, Kids, Anniversary, Market

Outside our room we witnessed an insect war. A stealthy praying mantis had his eye on a bumbling cicada twice his heft in weight. Slowly the mantis worked his way across the 20” gap between them, moving one of its 6 legs at a time, testing the woven bamboo surface for a gap to secure its footing. After several minutes it was 3 inches away. We watched it strike at the cicada, but the cicada slipped its grasp and flew about as though blind – bumping into the ceiling, walls and the lamp’s two guardian geckos in a buzzing frenzy. The geckos retreated to the shadows, but the mantis waited and the cicada landed again near the light. Again the mantis worked its way slowly across the ceiling to the new battle ground. By now 4 of us were watching the action from below. Finally the mantis lunged and grabbed the cicada. They fell to the floor and for a second or two it looked as though the mantis had a supper snack, but the cicada buzzed free and bumped again into everything on its way back to the light. I retired, for the night as the mantis was climbing its way back up the wall towards the arena.

I am volunteering ~5 times a week at Bryan and Lyla’s house were 20 – 30 children descend every afternoon between 4 and 6 p.m. Bryan and Lyla are an American couple who have lived in worked in Lao since 2001 predominately with pediatric medical training and with youth. I am missing all my resources that I had in Seattle. I bought 40 small composition books for students to be able to take notes in, and am working to balance my time between writing, reading and speaking. O-ba-ma, ba-na-na, ma-ma, so-da, no, so, ha-ha, he-he, cat, bat, fat, rat, hat, sat… are some of the words kids are starting to be able to decode on their own. Of course the trouble with English is all the exceptions, but for now - to (toe) and do (dough) rhyme with no and so - as I try to get them to recognize the predominant patterns. Some of the best English speakers are 4 girls who work in a shop selling textiles to tourists. Yvette bought a skirt from them on our first day, and I had taken one of their pictures at the time.

Our 14th anniversary was on the 20th, and we have now settled into a guesthouse for the duration of our time in this village. We have set up a cooking area in the communal space (but as we have the run of the place it is really our space). We bought a small rice cooker, an electric wok, a mortar and pestle, a large knife and a cutting board. For our anniversary we cooked Thai but had to substitute peanuts for cashews as we couldn’t find those anywhere. We also got a movie from our personal Blockbuster – YungXi – a Chinese graduate student who we almost ended up renting part of her house from. We watched The Reader which intermittently said “Property of the Weinstein company – do not copy” so we didn’t make a copy of it. The Chinese copies of DVD’s are much higher quality than the Thai or Lao ones. Those ones none of the submenus work (although the ones I saw in Thailand did fit 4 movies onto one DVD).

The market here is sizeable, but filled with so much of the same junk that is a bit futile to keep moving from shop to shop. We bought a kilo of salt because we couldn’t find any small sizes, no one had anything except palm oil, no sesame seeds – not in season, but we can ask a truck to bring them from China, no nuts except peanuts. Occasionally we find something unique: the one store with breadboards and one store that has sponges with green scrubbers…

Amplification

This morning I did a little walk-about in Luang Namtha. We are in the Northern reaches of Laos, not far from the Burmese, Chinese, and Vietnamese borders. The roosters had woken me up around 5:15 a.m. and I had a sound night of sleep beneath an oscillating ceiling fan. I found myself locked into the compound we are staying at, but decided to hop the gate rather than wake someone. I and the gate were both a bit precarious, but I managed to not fall off and to only injure my shirt with a 4” tear where a snag of metal caught me. There are 5 hill-tribe ladies encamped just outside this guest house – doing needle work, chewing something, and selling handiwork and perhaps substances. They were there and one of them watched me jump the gate and laughed and then tried to sell me something… Later when I returned she pointed me out to the group I think recapping my gate jumping.

The town dogs were out in force. Fighting, breeding, playing, walking with purpose, sniffing, or laying about. One puppy had an oversized stuffed creature about his size that he was worrying with his teeth. Another game I observed was being played by two young brothers, the half naked baby was trying to stomp on his brothers shoes, and he was dodging out of the way to the delight of both.

Walking a bit further a father and son emerged from the undergrowth by the road with a stick that had a short blade on one end. I gathered it might have been for digging up a type of root, but they didn’t appear to have any harvest yet.

I walked without a particular goal and eventually headed toward high ground. Soon I could hear music coming from a ways away and I headed that way. It kept growing louder as I neared, but 3 blocks had gone by and I still had not discovered the source. Eventually the source revealed itself: a temple atop a hill just outside of town. Several saffron robed chaps were sitting atop a knoll silently. The music was almost blaring from two speakers off a building next to them that had a number of monks bowls in it and mostly older people there for a morning prayer session. It is a doodle thought, but I wonder about how recorded music has taken away from the need for the monks to chant or for Americans to sing or in Muslim cultures for a cantor to sing the call to prayer. Too often I fear we trade in spectatorship for participation. I want to decree (when I am king for a day), that the monks should make their own music, that the mosques should have a live call to prayer- that, like the rooster or the crying baby, one’s own vocal power ought to determine the reach of the call - especially when one makes music at 5:30 a.m. I particularly wondered how the immediate neighbors felt about the daily music. On my way back I was greeted by more music emerging from one of the municipal buildings – exhorting the people I imagined to be good, upright, true and accepting of music and speaker announcements and roosters that blare in the morning air.

At the Lao Border

Yvette (Fan Girl) and I are getting ready to depart Bangkok via overnight train. We stayed in a swanky condo last night 25 floors up above bustle of the street. The AC and a shower do wonders to combat humidity. Fan Girl is now also Phone Girl as she has procured a Nokia with SIMM card for our use. She gave me a lesson in texting, and I keyed in almost successfully the message “I don’t text” Except that the “smart” language feature had me saying things like “I donut …”

One of my quirky highlights was watching the parking lot by the weekend market in Bangkok. It appears that everyone who doesn't get a diagonal pull in spot just double parks and leaves their car locked but in neutral. When someone wants to get out you see about 5 or 6 cars being rolled forwards or backwards to try and create a gap to exit.

I was quite delighted to find baby corn (on the cob). I knew it had to exist somewhere outside a can, and here in Chiang Mai I encountered it at the Buddhist Vegetarian Center where we were eating a very healthy vegan lunch.

8/12 Happy Mother’s day – Today was the queen’s birthday in Thailand and a national holiday that is celebrated as mother’s day.

This morning in Chiang Mai we enjoyed watching the monks asking for alms and giving blessings to those who offered them. We heard that on Mother’s day especially many people would be out giving. Vendors had ready little gift baskets and flower bundles that people would buy and then hand to the monks. Some of them were so heavily laden that I predicted they might be selective at where they stopped or what they kept. We saw one younger initiate fairly discreetly leave one of his flower bundles at a kiosk.

We’ve reached the Mekong. We are in Chiang Khong and Laos is a few 100 meters away. We are staying at a lovely guesthouse with good food and an airconditioned room. Tomorrow we push towards Muang Sing - though we may only get as far as Luang Nam Tha.

Angels, shots, visas, noodles, and a stolen wallet--summary of week one

Well, we're "one week in". We left our house in a much more hurried / frenzied state than we imagined. Our last few hours / minutes at home included sealing the grout (thank you, Carlos!), Transferring the car (thank you for selling it, Steve!), Taking kitty to her new home (I'm sure she's already in love with. .. you, Evelyn!), throwing things into suitcases --- and overall realizing we were a little less invincible than we thought. Vivek ended up giving more than just a ride to the airport-rather, 45 minutes of frantic "carry this to storage" and "this goes in the trash" kinds of instructions.

So, our "80/20" system of packing resulted in three knives in Yvette's carry-on-two Victorinox paring knives and one lock-blade, and flint / matches in Neil's carry-on. All of this sailed nicely past the sleepy US security staff (our flight was at 2am). Taipei security staff picked up on the two paring knives. But we arrived in Bangkok with the third. And with most of the things that we intended to bring! Plus our compass, Neil's pillow, "Go Dog Go" (and other Dr. Seuss books which happened to be in our bag from babysitting a few of the Beacon Hillbillies a few nights before), plus a few orphan socks. . .

After connecting by Skype with our "Beacon Hillbilly Angels" (Kim and Kelly who have fixed a last few things on our house, managed the house cleaner we hired to clean it, and made sure we didn't look to our renters like the overly. ..-ambitious fools that we were!!) to ensure things with the house were moving along okay, we made it to our hotel in Bangkok. We had a bowl of street noodles (um, how do you say vegetarian noodles in Thai? Another customer came to our aid), an ice cream cone, and a shower, then crashed for about 12 hours.

Our first order of business was to go get our Japanese Encephalitis vaccines-and what a lovely experience it was-no, really, it was. We went to Bumrungrad Hospital, and we thought we'd been dumped at the Nordstrom's spa. Beautiful facility, efficient staff mostly dressed in dupioni silk, free juice and water while you wait, a whole bank of registration desks dedicated to Arabic, another dedicated to English. We were escorted to the various desks / locations, got our shots with our clear bandaids-and it all cost US $ 55 each, rather than the US $ 500 it would've cost in Seattle. Great!! Our attempts at getting a 60-day Laotian visa weren't so successful. Despite finally trekking out to the embassy ourselves, they were firm in only giving a 30-day visa, which can be extended but we'll have to make a "visa run" across the Thai border a couple of times if we want to stay. . . a full three months. Ah well (she says now, not having yet experienced the 10 hours of bus rides, one way, in Northern Laos that will be required for this endeavor).

A bit of play time in Bangkok included taking a cooking class at May Kaidee's Vegetarian cooking school-very well worth it so we know what we're looking at in the market! We learned about lemon grass, galangal (Thai ginger), Thai basil, kaffir limes, kaffir lime leaves, mushroom sauce (to replace oyster sauce), soy sauce (to replace fish sauce), and lots of yummy recipes, and what makes them. . . yummy. We've already made a yummy batch of tom kha soup!

We've also hooked up with good friends from PATH-had a lovely Moroccan dinner Monday night at Gopi's house, meeting Shilpa, China and Chantal, and also getting to see Michelle who Yvette had replaced in South Africa (yes, a small world). . . With Michelle and Gopi, we attended "Calypso Bangkok"-a humorous cabaret show put on by a group of stunningly beautiful and talented "lady men"-transgender men who possess more grace / beauty than one can imagine. Unfortunately, that evening I also somehow managed to part from my wallet. Darn. And a first time for me. So. . . the late evening meant several Skype calls with credit card companies in the US-who confirmed someone had used my Visa card to enrich themselves with ~ $ 1000 of merchandise. Fortunately, I don't have to pay that, so besides the ~ $ 100 of cash in my wallet and the hassle, I'm not much worse off. And between Gopi and Michelle offering me their addresses, or money up front - and the overall infrastructure in Bangkok (mail, telecomm, etc., Is very easy here), we weren't too stressed, just briefly frustrated.

We've also connected with Therese Caouette (good friend from Seattle and from Pangea who is also Yvette's former bosses, Chris', wife). Right now we're staying for a few days at Therese's farm, we're surrounded by rice fields, birds, frogs, and Therese's large extended family. Visiting with Therese and hearing her story of 20 + years in Thailand working on social justice issues was a highlight for me. I've known bits and pieces of her story, hearing the fuller version underlines for me the things I know Therese stands for-a deep value for human rights and justice, a desire to understand with depth and nuance (including becoming a rice farmer to. . better-understand the people she was working with), a love of play and whimsy, and a willingness to live a somewhat chaotic and creative life to do the kind of work she values. On the way to the farm with Therese, we stopped and visited Don, a family member who's serving as a monk for 3 months in honor of his father's passing. He's just finished his university degree in economics as well.

Here at the farm we've relaxed and read, learned how to ride the scooter (Neil), gone into town and explored the market and shops, gone to grandma's house (Therese's former mother-in-law) to eat and to cook. So far we've managed to avoid going on a frog-catching hunt, but Neil just might have that in his sights.

A few days on a rice farm

We are in Panotnokomb (no idea really of how to spell that), Thailand - south of Bangkok an hour and a half.

My nose has taken up running – a new hobby for it as I have had no known allergies throughout the last 38 years. But perhaps the farm air has made it want to exercise.

I am surrounded by rice fields. The stalks are coming full and the white egrets work the fields, their cries dissonant with their visual grace.

A thrum of insects, cooing doves and other songbirds fill in the background, along with a farmers radio alternating pop music with sing-song commercials.

The horizon is set by lines of coconut trees, banana and coconut trees.

Yvette and I have ridden a motor scooter into town and walked down to the market. We've provisioned ourselves with Mushroom sauce (a vegetarian substitute for fish sauce), galangal, garlic, eggplant, basil, mushrooms, cauliflower, cabbage, lemon grass, tomatoes, carrots, peppers, baby corn - they are sooo cute, and a few other sundry items. We found a little air-conditioned bakery/internet cafe with smoothies and comfortable seats and have set up shop for the morning.

The wasp/bee in the photo is enjoying some Lukchub which we were encouraged to seek out as one of the traditional sweets of Thailand. Not only were the bees all taking little licks off the top, the seller had a bag of bees for sale presumably next to her (or maybe she let them out as advertising...)

We’re at the gate, our bags are a DISASTER as we crammed and threw stuff in, we’ll have mysteries when we arrive in Bangkok! Projects are done, house is a disaster, we’ll hae to hire a cleaning person tomorrow by phone. NOT the peaceful exit we’d hoped for, but exhausted and excited nonetheless.

Our final Seattle week included multiple all-nighters and many more projects than we would have wished. We will decompress in Thailand