New Appreciations

I just finished reading Blood Meridian, by Cormac McCarthy. I tried reading it just one year ago, but I cast it aside in disinterest by page sixty. This time around, I was wholly absorbed in every page. It makes me wonder at past versions of myself who were too dense or close-minded for certain appreciations. I can't fathom what specific changes took place in the folds of my pale brain that allowed me to enjoy the book now, when I was rather put off by it before. This also makes me wonder at my current self and what appreciations I lack through my present denseness. What things will my future selves be able to appreciate through awakenings yet to be?

I'm United States of American

For those of you who cannot stomach patriotism, read no further.

I'm proud to be an American. No, that's not it. I'm happy to be American. No, actually, I think I'm happy to be from America. It's something I don't care to rationalize or put into words. All I can say is that whenever I leave and come back, I swoon over this place--this land of the free--this home of the brave--with their purple mountains majesty and such. Other countries are good too, but this one is great.

So long, Asia

So Long, Asia--your southeastern portion anyway. We've had some good times, but it's time for me to leave. We got along well mostly, but our backgrounds are too different to keep this up any longer. Let's keep in touch and I hope our paths cross again someday.

Goodbye SE Asian food. It took my bowels a few weeks to get used to you, but I glad they finally came around. My love and appreciation for rice and its derivatives blossomed these last few months. I wish we didn't have to part, but I'll always savor you in memory--your pickled vegetables, stubby bananas, sticky rice, fresh coconuts, and all your cheap exotic fruit. I'll miss you all.

Farewell SE Asian weather. You surprised me with rain a few times, but were pretty consistent otherwise. I'd almost call you climate rather than weather. If I wanted to know what the day would bring, I could just look at one of those yearly charts with two big parabolas for temperature and rainfall. Overall you were a bit too hot and humid for my liking, but farewell nevertheless.

Goodbye SE Asian architecture. From temples to telephone poles, you were built mostly of concrete, but I liked you anyway. Your use of bamboo, corrugated metal, and tarps was truly inspiring. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

See you later, SE Asian beer. You were refreshing at times, but that's about all.

Take care, SE Asian people. Firstly, let me apologize for lumping you all together as one people--you varied greatly from region to region, but you were all consistently helpful and usually wore a smile. I was always amazed at your heat tolerance, wearing black jeans and long-sleeves in tropical heat. A good number of you tried to swindle me, but that's alright, I don't blame you--I'd try to swindle me too. Farewell, and thanks for putting up with my monoligualism .

So long, Asia. I'm going home.

Engrish and other Asia-isms

Not really any water rights here.






Efficient oil disposal










It's hard to read, but: Cock Testicle. Either boiled, stir fried, or steamed.




The dark want to be light, and the light want to be dark. We're all after the same shade. I hope the kit doesn't actually include a stethoscope.




Too much whitening cream.

These Roads

These roads are filled with wandering souls
like a cast full of actors without any roles
like birds without hives and bees without nests
they wander about on undefined quests.

They left their homes for a faraway land
hoping to find some untrodden sand.
With minimal possessions and a few foreign bills
they keep going forward with unwavering wills.

What do they seek? What do they find?
The meaning of life or peace of mind?
Or maybe they find that for what they roam
was never really all that far from home.

Vipassana: Part II

I forgot to tell about this one thing:
On the last day during the final moments of noble silence, we were practicing a meta-meditation where you focus on spreading your positive thoughts and energy to others. During the instruction, a fly landed on my right thigh. I put out my hand and it landed on my finger. I put up my other hand, and it WALKED from one hand to the other like an obedient bird accepting its new perch . I'd never felt so trusted by a fly before.

Vipasanna

The retreat went well, even though my body threw a revolt or two. The morning of day one was fine; by one o'clock I was feeling a bit queezy, and by three o'clock I puked my guts out. I laid in bed during the afternoon group sittings, and I may have gone home that evening were I not so weak. At 7:00 pm I was strong enough to attend the evening discourse and then hold myself upright for the final sitting. Before bed I took some travelers antibiotics and in the morning I was well enough to go on. Last time I did one of these, I got this dizzy, woozy feeling on the third day, and by the seventh it wore me down enough to send me home. This time I didn't get the dizzy feeling until day eight. I was sort of expecting it to come the whole time, and when it finally did I was too far along and too resolved to not let it bother me. I'm glad, because the feeling of finishing such a course is a rare one. It's not elation or excitement. You're happy to be sure, but it's a very calm, lucid happiness. In the middle of the retreat, everyone looked kind of like bewildered animals constantly being herded around. By the end, everyone was holding themselves up straight and confident with a vast, placid look in their eyes. Since I leaned how to speak, it was the longest time I've gone without speech. Midway through the tenth day noble silence was broken, and I was giddy and awkward with the novelty of communication.

I'd like to describe the mental experience of having to meditate for so long, but it's hard to sum it up. You learn things about yourself that you couldn't learn any other way. Again, I'd like to express what those things are, but there aren't proper words for them. I can say that I felt my body as mass of flowing energy, and experienced the constantly changing nature of the universe... see I told you there wasn't a clear way to describe what I felt. All I can do is recommend that everyone do this same retreat. There are centers around the world and you can find one at dhamma.org.

The Dhamma hall. That's my spot in the back left.


The walk to the dormitory


I had this cubicle all to myself!


Breakfast


Ahhhhh...

Points and Gestures

I guess I've sort of dropped the ball on keeping this thing up to date. It's been two weeks and two countries since my last post. The lapse is due to expensive or slow internet, but also to apathy on my part. I've been traveling around on this subcontinent for so long that time and experiences are blurring together as a normal sort of routine. Things that would have caught my attention when I first got here like lady-boy cocktail "waitresses" or buckets full of live ells in markets are now familiar parts of the scenery. I used to ordering food with points and gestures, and having locals stare and talk about the felangs (westerners) as they walk by. It's amazing how normal a place can become, even when you're a perpetual stranger. There is always companionship here, though. Westerners always glom onto each other out of comfort and safety, and even when I was "alone" I had a solid crew them to travel with through Laos.
I went to a city called Vang Vienne, which is part of the deeply rutted tourist path. I would guess the local population to be a few thousand, and the tourist population to be three times that. Every other building in town is a hotel or guesthouse, and they were all full when I was there. The attraction is beautiful scenery and a bar-lined river. In the early afternoon, people take taxis to the starting point and instead of walking from bar to bar, they just jump in the river and float down. If you hail them, locals will throw out life preservers and pull you in. When you climb up to the bamboo dance floor, your first greeting is a local offering free shots of Laos whisky. There are also 20-30 foot rope swings and slides into the water. Remember, this is when the sun is high in the sky and pretty much in the middle of nowhere. The whole thing seems like the kind of party that would happen right after the apocalypse before society totally unraveled.
I stayed a week in Vang Vienne, and halfway through, Miles met up with me. We spent a coupleof days hiking through the hills, but I had to be on my way again and left him there while I went to Vientianne. I only planned to spend a night there before crossing the Mekong into Thailand, but while walking to a market to buy a sandwich, I ran right into John. We had split up with him over a month before and last we heard he had bought a boat with his brother in Cambodia and were motoring up the Mekong River. We each had no idea the other was in Vientianne, so you can imagine how surprised we were. Because of the reunion, I stayed an extra night, but then Miles showed up the next day, so two nights turned to three, and we all went out drinking and reminiscing.
Now I'm back in Thailand and alone again. Miles and I crossed the border together and got dinner in Khon Kaen before he caught a night train to Bangkok. He's flying home in a couple of days and those were the very last hours of our four and a half months of traveling together. I'm excited for my own ticket home in three weeks, but I still felt the somber weight of something coming to an end. After seeing him off on a busy street, I went back to my bland hotel room and thought about my own remaining time. 21 days--10 of which will be spent at a Vipassana retreat (Check it out here: www.dhamma.org). The retreat is pretty much my last thing to do here. It starts tomorrow, and I'm a bit anxious--anxious to get started, but also just about going. Little thoughts about not going have flitted through my mind like a bird darting in and out of a room. I'm going--that's for damn sure. I don't even know what I'm nervous about. It's not as though I'm being plucked from some active, fulfilling lifestyle. I sit around most days anyway, so I may as well sit around with a purpose. I guess I'm just nervous, because I know that it'll be hard and some days will pass with agonizing slowness. But like I said, I'm goin.

PHOTOS:

My morning routine, in a nutshell

That was my bungalow--the one on the left.



Around Vang Vienne

That's Vivi from Phili. We shared a bungalow for a few days.

Some crazy quarry. We were going to watch them dynamite a boulder, but they made us move along.



These little spelunkers guided us through a pretty deep cave.



A market here in Khon Kaen