The Lone Ranger...part II

Miss me? I missed you!

I've been walking around the town of Luang Prabang for the last 6 hours, turning right when I felt like turning right and left when I was in a left sort of mood. I wandered into a movie viewing place where I watched a weird movie with some weird people (you rent a movie and a room), all the while confused and thinking, "What am I doing in this totally random country of Laos?" I can't tell what part of the world I'm in right now...it could be Thailand, Miami, or the south of France. Luang Prabang lies in northern Laos (I wasn't joking--I hopped on a plane this morning and took an international flight to Thailand's eastern neighboring country) and used to be a French colony. The architecture is a combo of Buddhist temples and colonial French buildings. The streets are lined with palm trees and bakeries. It is clean, hot, and the people are so friendly. "May I use your toilet?" I asked. "Oh, yes please!" they respond.

Tomorrow I'm going to rent a bike and ride around the city, along the Mekong River, and maybe take a boat across the river to a cave filled with Buddhist thingies. Molly should be here in just a couple days, so I am still going strong as...the Lone Ranger...and this is part II.

So how have you all been?

I think another reason why I feel so out of sorts today is because all of a sudden I have gone from a very strict schedule to a totally haphazard and unstructured life--my real life. (Haha, walking around Laos is my real life? Who AM I?) I do not know what to do with myself when the chickens and pigs do not wake me up with their screaming at 4 a.m. and I don't go to sleep with the sun at 8. No more morning hike up to our meditation spot at 5:45 a.m. No more tai chi. No more Thai massage for 6 hours a day (I passed! Yay!). No more Lahu spirit dances. No more witch doctors chanting. No more bamboo huts and Lahu kids singing about carrots. No more non-Western toilets--they are actually more hygienic than our toilets and squatting is much better for your bowels than sitting is, it turns out. No more marriage proposals from Tip (that's TIP, guys, not TRIP--am i allowed to write this?). (The Lahu get married by drinking tea together in front of the shaman. I actually just realized this...at the Lahu dance the other night, Tip offered me a cup of tea and I accepted. Fortunately, though, the shaman was not present. Good thing...otherwise I'd have to get divorced (consists of dumping out tea in front of the shaman).)

I do not know how to sum up my last few weeks, so I will end my email here, officially, but read on if you would like to read some real live excerpts from my real live journal. (Whoa--I don't believe I'm doing this...) It just makes the most sense for me to do it this way. And besides, I wrote like a compulsive maniac over the last few weeks---there must be some material appropriate for and worth sharing...

1-18-05

I'm crammed on the open bed of a red pick up truck with 6 other people and everyone's lugguge. I am at the back, so if I look forward, all I see is the road, zooming along behind us. This surely will be good for my tan, though prob not so good for my contacts. I'm sitting in between Moana the violin maker and Shlumpf the German warrior. A Thai old woman dressed in some sort of traditional garb is to my left. I hope I won't have to pee; I just had a delicious banana-orange shake before I left. Today I love Thailand.

Moana's mother cried when she said goodbye to her. Both mother and daughter have nose rings. It made me miss my mother, even though she refuses to get her nose pierced.

Ahead of us are hills. We are soon entering the jungle...

Maybe in Thailand they are SUPPOSED to drive On the lines rather than BETWEEN them?

...At the "coffee house" (someone's house--he makes coffee) a little Lahu girl was holding a dead squirrel. Jo, a British/Chinese girl in the course, a former brass rubber on her way to Australia to find new work, also held it. I sat there with my jaw open and my hand over my eyes, in utter shock.

The Lahu people used to be nomads. THey would find a clearing in the jungle (or rahter, they would make a clearing in the jungle), live there for a while, use all the resources, and then move on, allowing the jungle to replenish itself. They are orininally from Tibet. They speak lahu, not Thai. The Thai goverment wanted them to settle after they moved around for a bit in Thailand, and so helped them by creating farming projects and giving them some money and resources. Now some of the people work for the royal project and some have become self-sufficient farmers. THe women all stay home and sew. THe children do the laundry.

1-22-05

To decided that to keep the spirit of the day, I would skip taichi, so i decided to go for a morning walk and got totally lost, missed my turn and ended up in the wrong Lahu village. "Where is massage?" I asked while gerturing a massage. All I got were blank stares and I wanted to cry. I knew I was at the wrong Lahu village b/c the dogs all started growling at me and the pigs were a white/grey, and the earth under my feet was more reddish than tan. And there were fewer houses and fewer chickens. WHen I finially got back--after a strange man walked me down a narrow deserted path and then put me on the back of an even stranger man's motorbike--I knew I was home cuz the crazy, noisy farm animals (who live below and around the houses, not on farms) were so welcoming. I've come to love the pigs here, especially. They have such a distinct personality. THey are quite feisty, and very funny.

Two sad things--I lost my expensive patagonia socks along the way, and on my way back up the hill after the motorbike dropped me off, I saw a dead puppy dog on the side of the road. I had a brief, not very verbal, but very expressive conversation--more an acknowledgement of the sadness--with an old Lahu man who was also walking up the hill.

1-26-05

So, today was my birthday and actually, one of my nicest. WHen I went to breakfast, MOana had left me flowers, a bracelet, and cake. Everyone sang Happy BD to me a couple times throughout the day, and after luncch was more cake. Amy gave me pretty earings, too. A good day.

1-27-05

...It was the dogs. Sounded like there was a dog massacre last night. THe most horrible screeches and screams of such extreme pain, anger and torment. I had to pee in the middle of the night (as usual) and was so petrified that I'd get eaten by the ravenous dogs, that I would not leave the platform [note to readers: the toilets are a bit of a walk away], I was even scared to open the gate. So I climbed up on the bannister, made sure no one was looking, squatted off and peed. Not a bad idea! I'll probably do it again. Why walk all the way to the bathroom?

THe rest of the morning was filled with the regular chaos of screaming farm animals--why do roosters cockadoodledoo? Just exercising their vocals, or do they have something to say? Do their cockadoodledoos vary or do they really say the same annoying thing over and over and over again?

[another note to readers: these are the deep thoughts that keep me up at night. I think the same thing about cows and dogs and all other animals. Do you think they think the same thing about us?]

Well, if you are still reading this, congratulations. You will win a prize when I get back. Just mention the word "carrots" and that'll be my cue. I would type more, but, guys, I'm in Laos--I've got more interesting things to do. Though I do love chatting with you in my monologues. Speaking of chatting, I plan on maybe signing on IM tomorrow morning, maybe around 9. THat's 9p.m. for you. So everyone come online! It'll be fun! (Sareal99)

It's late and I have to find my way back to my guesthouse.

Ciao!

Sar

P.S. THank you all for your birthday wishes! And today is my dad's birthday! Go Aquarians! (Wow, that's definitely the influence of my last few weeks spent with astrologers, alchemists, mayans, and energyists.)