Monkey Mayham

Yah.... I have loved monkeys all my life... i have gone so far as to write songs about their brilliance in my mind..."Monkey Town" anyone??? Yes, finally seen scores of monkeys everywhere in South East Asia after my disappointment in Australia was one of the highlights of my trip.... but then came the monkey from hell....

I was walking around a temple on the top of a mountain along the eastern coast of Thailand when i was beset by a monkey. That is correct folks... I was bitten by a monkey...3 times... What followed was rather crazy... I talked to some monks at the top of the mountain whose advice was simply "No" and a point towards the man monkey... ahh, ok, thanks, now i know that that monkey is mean for sure... check... i then went to the tourist information center in town and pointed to the bite and asked if there was anything special i needed to do about it... they called in like 5 experts, they consulted for a while and then determined that I needed to go to the hospital... So, 2 of them drove me out to the hospital, where i got 2 more people following me around which made the total 4 at that point.... i went to another room and got 2 nurses around me... they smeared some stuff on my bits and were then like "ok, we give you shot now, ok?" not ok.... i was not about to gt a shot i knew nothing about in the "mass casualty room" yah, that is what the room was called in English... translation difficulties, lets hope so.... so i went back to a computer, phoned home, and after a hour of consulting with no fewer than 6 medical experts, it was determined that i could get the shot for rabies in Thailand so long as it looked all hunky dory.... i went back into the hospital... walked straight into the Mass Casualty Room, got the "hello big white man what you need?" face from a nurse... had a nice Young English speaking Doctor come talk to me an give me my injection... the total cost ... $1.50 to talk to the Doctor and another $12 for the shot.... nice and cheap....then i went to the nearest 7eleven, snagged some Listerine and a toothbrush... scrubbed the hell out of my bites... and that was that... oh yah, i am talking some of the meds i brought with me from the states to prevent any infection and i have to get another injection in Bangkok, but other than that life is sweet....
stupid monkey!!!!

My Time with the Steve Zissou Foundation

Due to events which i will soon describe, this post will not be neat or elegant, but short and to the point giving only a bit of an update....
Well, it certainly has been a surreal...surreal, but nice, few days... I am now certified as a SSI Scuba Diver...woot!!! I past the test!!! it was four days of "studying" which really meant watching about 3 hours of videos, listening to 2 hours of talking, and about 1 hour of filling in worksheets... the rest was just diving to my hearts content... i got down to 20 meters, or about 62-64 feet underwater... it was like a whole other universe down there... the best part is getting to the point where you forget that you are SCUBA diving and are just "there" as a member of that world.... so cool, so many fish... freaking great... yah, so i have spent the past week on tropical island paradise, diving and carousing with my classmates... yet i by it at a great cost.... apparently dry bags in Thailand are actually just hunks of crap... so yah, my iphone got totally wet, and now doesn't work worth shit, as in wont turn on... apparently it is not to bad of a fix, and i can get it fixed in the states for like bucks at a place in SF... or i am also sure that i could get it done here in Bangkok, but i kinda don't feel like handing it over to some dude in Bangkok, so yah, i am going to wait until i get back, it is only a week away... but that means that i now have to pay for Internet and blog writing time... so yah, you wont get much anymore, but i will tell u all about Bangkok and such when i get back... i am pretty sure you will all be OK without reading about every little thing that i do here.... this whole blog thing is a little creepy anyways... very self importizing (i don't think that that is even a word)... but meh...

i am leaving the south and heading back up the coast toward Bangkok where i fly out in a week... i can believe that i have been gone for 2 months already and that i will soon be back to life as i used to know it... sad to leave, but i am getting to the point where i am starting to miss the little things about my California life and not just the most important things... like my doggy... and then the rest of my family and friends... but i really miss my dog!
See everyone back on the West Coast soon, and to everyone else reading this beasty, i will be back in normal contacting patterns again in like a week... so if you can't hold on... hold on!

972km and a 1000m dash

By fery, moto, bus, train, shuttle, catamaran, three-wheel cab, pickup, and foot I have traveled in the last 48 hours... From the small islands near the Thai-Cambodian boarder, I left the fishing grounds by decrepit boat to the island of ko chang, from there I travel by moto through the treacherous mountain paths to immerge from the jungle at the ferry landing... By ferry I came to a tiny port village where I continued through the night by moto, braving both the dark and suicide bugs, to come upon the city of Trat.  In Trat, across the endless lanes of traffic and mozzy infested feces swap I trudged on foot to government bus station, by bus (which I can't really complain about, it was quite nice, oh, but they did tell me I had 20minutes to get food, so I ordered and not 3 minutes later I was getting screamed at in Thai to get my white butt back on the bus, so there) I say, by bus which starves the very hearts of men I came to the Bangkok airport bus station, from there I caught a immeasurably cramped shuttle bus to the airport, through the churning throngs I made my way through the airport to yet another bus, whose driver was a drunkard from the very bowels of the earth... Not only was he drinking scotch as he drove, he committed the ultimate crime bagicide... That is right, he tried to kill my bag...  At some point, I looked back down the bus to the luggage rack to find that my bag was no longer there!  I, thinking that someone had taken it by accident, yell at the driver to stop the bus, to go back, yet he does nothing... So I get up and beat upon the doors until my wrath crumbled his hellish will, for no demon of the dark realm can withstand the noble heart when it is awoken to righteous fury... Out of the doors I spang into the concrete jungle of Bangkok wreathed in a mist made of smog and gasses escaping from putrid flesh and I ran... Flat out for what I aproximate was 1000m I spirinted taking no heed for the safety of those I passed, leaving them to find their own way through the storm I surely left in my wake, until, at last I came upon my quarry, the group of lost looking whities milling around the last place the bus stopped... There I found out the true nature of the bus driver, it was he who had put the bag off of the bus, he who had done me this wrong completely, it was then I realized that this was no mere demon of the dark, loe, it was Lokey come upon us, and fortunate do now I count myself to have escaped his webs so lightly... Once I had gathered myself and my just belongings, I again set forth toward the train station, this time by three-wheeled taxi... At the train station, I climbed into the last remaining bench to spend the next scheduled 9 which actually means 11hours try to imagine that I was in some far away place, where hawkers of smelly meats were only a distant nightmare, and the closest you ever had to sit to another human was farther than one edge of the universe to the other including a constant expansion... After the train, I crawled into the back of a pickup to be transported like a sack of fertilizer to yet another port, where I got on yet another boat, this time in the form of a catamaran, to sail the sundering sea to the island of ko toa... From the docks I went, by my most trusted of forms of transport, my feet, to a nice little shack on the beach, where I proceeded to lay myself down, for a long, long sleep.

To be fair, at about hour 8 on the train, I did go snag a beer and sit on the steps looking out into the night rockin to some led zepplin, so yah, that bit was bitching... But the rest sucked.

To bail or not to bail

After what I have already described as the easiest boarder crossing ever, I caught a mini van into the next big city of trat... Walked about a mile or so from the bus stop into the city. Wandered around aimlessly until I found a place that would rent me a mtor bike... Great deal 5 bucks a day rather the ten here on the island of ko chang... Rode my moto another 12 miles to the ocean where the port and ferries are... The price of a moto taxi from the city to here is more than my moto... Hehehe really proud of myself... Then hopped on the ferry for an hour to the island of ko chang... Again really proud of my moto ideal because I then rode all around the island looking for a place to stay, which would have cost me a good deal in taxi, even if I had just gone from the ferry landing to the nearest moto rental... I am so pleased with my efforts, I went into like 5 different places before I could find someone who understood English and anther 6 to actually get the moto, all the while I am hot and tired of the pack on my back.... But oh how smart I feel now having gotten my wheels off island and bringing them here...   So here I am, laying in a hammock listening to jazz music... Anywho... This place if freaking beautiful... I am not kidding it kinda puts the Hawaiian islands to shame.... Because here u get a good sized island (still way smaller than kawaii, but big enough to explore) but then there are these little buggers just sticking ip all o erthe place along the coast.... That and it is so far less developed and rugged, there are still nice resort type places, but it just feels a little less hectic.... If only there were waves here I could surf.... But still the island is amzaing, I spend a great deal of time just cruzin around on the amazing roads... Basically the steepest things I have every been on with crazy turns and such... This it turns out, would be my downfall, I dumped my moto at one point do avoid actual disaster, only to afterward realize that that meant dumping my camera... Yah, bad news bears... Thankfully my camera body... The really expensive part, is just fine, the lens on the other hand, came
Flying off at the impact... I broke the little plastic sun hood 15 bucks no bigy, but I also broke three of the mounts of the lens... The little plastic do dads which hold the lens to the camera... I think I can replace this when I get back to the states for not to much, but for now, I have to be really careful with the stupid thing... I squeeze the lens tight against the camera body whenever I take a picture, and when I am not shooting I tie a bandana around the whole thing to keep the lens from falling of... Am I pissed... Oh yah... Will I give up moto driving... Hell no... Anyways, I sleep in a hut under a mozy net for 5 bucks a night, i go down to the nice place down the road to lay I there hammocks and listen to BB King and John Coltrain... And the food is still cheap as hell... Heheh... I wonder if they know I am not actually a guest... Tomorrow I am going deep sea fishing for like $30... Kinda a splurge, but inalso found the cheapest place on the island to sleep, so I am going to treat myself... But that means I have to get up early... So G'night!

Out of Cambodia and into paradise....

Well I left Cambodia, a little later than I had planned on... The problem was getting a visa... So I get 15 days on a land crossing... Not enough time... I would get 30 days if a flew, but being here has turned me ubercheapskate.... So I tried to get a visa from the Thai embassy... Refusing to go through the proper channels (in this case the guard outside who if I gave him 20 bucks and my passport would get me q visa in a day) I stupidly tried to do it myself believing ignorantly that legitimacy was the right way of doing things... Wrong... It took me three days just to figure out the rules of getting in the embassy door.. And once I did, do to "holidays" and other such things, my visa would not be ready until... u guessed it... 15 days before I flew out of Bangkok back home... Sooo I decided to silly cross by land, get a 15 day visa and the. Pay the overstay fine at the airport when I left... Yet, since the fine is per day, I decided to head down to the south of Cambodia for a few to lessen my overall fine... So I went south to Sihonoukville, which was a very strange place indeed, water like a warm bath 80-90 degrees... For Real... It was a really nice beach with wooden huts along the length of it for around a mile... But I soon left heading down to the boarder town of KoKong... Which I really liked... It sits right on a river and is only about 1 mile from the ocean... So the port is a rather large influence on the town... This is a Cambodian port, not like the port of Oakland, we are talking about boats I wouldn't get on for fear of drowning even if it was in a dry dock... I spent a few days there enjoying the vibe of the place spnding the evenings with a few people from an NGO after I watched the sunset with the little kids fishing down at the pier... Then early one morning I crossed the river and made my way by moto to the boarder... Which was amazingly easy because I was one of the few people there that early.... 

Seeing how this ends my account of Cambodia, I feel it is an apt time to make some final impressions of the place... Ok, yes it is poor as shit, yes there is virtually no infrastructure, and yes corruption is rampant; but, despite the fact that your chances of moving up in the world are very small if you don't have cash (yes I realize the paradox here, that is the point), despite the fact that I on many occasions climbed into the back of a camary of Toyota pickup parked alongthe side of a dirt road only to have a small child placed in my lap and have some sort of bodily fluid come out of said infant all over me, despite the fact that I had to pay traffic "tickets" of q few bucks which went directly to the pockets of the nice officer... I say despite all these lovely qualities... "The Bodge," as Xpats call it,  still has it's charms... In the words one Peace Core Officer... "It was "F"ing, disgusting, I loved it!" it was a great place, many parts are beautiful, the people are extremely happy despite the fact that they have been kicked around by pretty much everybody for every, and these factors mix to create this feeling which haunts you everywhere you go, from the truly epic ruins, to the tiny villages, the relaxing shores, to the killing field where the paths are literally lined and in some places paved with the bones of murdered innocents... I would not change my time there for anything...

I'm in Thailand now as The title implies... I made it, that's all I am saying for now, more to come soon...

Mud, salt, crab, and yet more mud

So after a few days of city life in phnom penh, I figured that it was time to get out to countryside... So I hoped on a nice bus and rode down to the river town to kampot... After a bit of searching in the dark for a place to lay my head down for the night, with the help of my drug dealing moto driver, I finally came to find a nice little place off the main drag... I spent the night laying in a hammock listening to my books on tape before retiring to my mozy net covered bed.  The next morning I strode down the waterfront to a motorbike shop, hopped on, and started driving to the seaside... Thankfully it had rained the night before, so all my fears of cruzing down a dusty dirt road were for not... Instead I should have prayed for dust as opposed to the alternative, mud.  Lots and lots and lots of mud.  After about twenty miles and managing to get around as many large construction trucks such fling up copious amounts of mud, I pulled out onto a side road and realized that of the 8 choices at the roundabout said twenty miles back in town, I had chosen poorly... So back I went through a fine mud misting.   When got back to my starting location, I was pretty concerned that the heavens were about to open up because it was so damn dark outside.  I took of my sunnys to have a better look at things, and lo, I was blinded by light!... I peered down at my goggles to see that their mirror surface was nearly completely hidden under mud, as was my entire person... I had a good laugh of the sight that I made... Big bearded white man covered in mud!  (you have to realize that I haven't seen another gringo in this town yet)... After another 20 miles or so up the right road, I came upon the sea, and oh how joyous was my heart at this meeting.  I was shocked at how emotional I was at such a sight and can only attribute it to the fact that after living next to it for four years and being gone from home for a great length of time, my heart was overcome by the familiar sights, sounds, and of course smells.  I parked my moto and dove straight into the sea, clothed as I was.  Never have I felt the waters so warm in all my life.  It was like a hot bath which has been allowed to cool for half an hour or so... I scrubbed the mud from my face and clothes noticed that my stomach was rumbling and that I had not eaten a meal in 2 days (it is almost as if I simply forget to eat entirely, or that I mean to but put it off in order to do something else and then forget about it).  So I popped up the beach a ways until I hit the crab market where I sat down and had easily one of the ten best meals of my life... Flavor I cannot begin to described overwhelmed me... Crab fried with vegetables and herbs in a slightly sweet curry that tasted nothing like curry, but rather like a pleasure greater than that of Paris an Hellen their first night in Troy...  I am talking about PASSION in my MOUTH!  An now I sit here, at that restaurant, with the ocean wind in my hair, listening to the sounds of the waves lap up underneath my seat, watching little fishing boats putter up the coast... I realize now that I better not find a Cambodian girlfriend while I am here, because if I do, I might not be leaving any time soon.

The next day I woke up early before dawn to the sound of creation, or rather what I imagine it sounded like 5,000 years ago when god made everything... I say, the heavens were dropping a remarkable amount of water on my tin roof and oh how the win howled from the south and east... A tarried there in an uneasy sleep for some time until mid morning when the Storm broke rain curtain pealed away like silver glass to reveal a far green country... It was then that I decided to head up the mountainside... After a three dollar "road fee" to the nice police men, I was off up the hill into Bokor National Park.  I got about ten km before I hit "road closed for construction sign" and there was a string across the road, lowered for all save me... I blatantly tried to bribe the guys but u think their lack of English made it particularly hard... I went so far as to plop down a ten spot and push it toward the string operator and point to me going through (thats serious bribe money here, for perspective it only costs about five bucks for a hit here, and I am talking about killing a person, drug are way cheaper according to the nice drug dealer who tries to sell me stuff every time I step out my guesthouse door)... But alas I was to no avail, i found out later that since the road is being worked on by some big company, apparently if and westerner gets hurt the guys who saw him that day never see another day, that way any bad press about the accident never happens because no one is around to sing the tale... I ruv this county!... So, with the day still ahead of me and a full tank of gas in my moto, I went cruzing down to the seaside again to see about some new cruzing roads and maybe a fried crab or two... In Kep, I found a trail onto Kep National Forest... And I cruzed through through the jungle mountainside on little more than a dear trail... Needless to say it was pretty bitchin... Think of the Napali Coast Trail, add in about an extra foot or so of clearance, and you'll have a good idea... I am once again sitting at my little shack restaurant, having polished off a few more crustacean, drinking my tea, and looking forward to my ride back to my hammock and maybe a 4 dollar massage if I get to feeling really loose with my pocket book... A very great "unsuccessful" day indeed!

Purely Bitchin

Regardless of whether or not who we are is determined by factors other than our experiences (the current hold up on my philosophical quest to find reasons for a subsequently prior moral power in addition to the two identified by Rawls, which I have given a great deal of thought to in my time abroad)... I say, regardless of this question, it seems to me that we still might have defining moments which might act as a signpost along our development as individuals, moments which we might point to down the road of life as times when clarity came into our hearts as to who and what we are. For example, Writing this on the back of a speeding moto with air wiping by, Cruzing through the numerous temples which make up the Angkor Wat complex, bathed in the warm red glow of sunset, Blasting some bitchin tunes in my ears which both reminds me of my past and hints at my potential future all the while supplementing the beauty of the moment... I know for sure that despite the knowledge of suffering in the world, I am reminded of our inherent ability to experience pure, unadulterated joy... Hell yes this is a life moment.

Notes from a tiny village...and a big city

So I went to Dom Dek... Yah it's small, yah it is oh so rugged, yah it is where my beloved friend Meg lives and will continue to live for the next year an a half.  I was lucky enough to get to attend the school where meg teaches English, to experience just the slightest beginnings of the life of a peace core member, I hung out with her host family and ate some delicious food (although there was one hairy moment where, with cook looking on, I came across a mystery bit which looked like a chicken bladder, popped it in my mouth, and with one chew swallowed... Turns out it was a mushroom!) and I got my fill of being ooggling over as the big white man with a beard... All that i will say about the experience is that life there is hard, whether you are born there or just move there to try and make a difference... Now I am not one to make silly claims about the lives others lightly, material wealth does not predict happiness, indeed the people I met were quite the lively upbeat bunch, ever quick to laugh and even faster to smile.  That being said, I repeat, life is hard for reasons other than a lack of creature comforts, or rather in addition to said lacking.  Life is so very hard because in it's simplest form, you are what you are born...
Born poor, stay poor, die poor... Born the son of a noodle vendor, guess what, I see noodle vending in your near future... If education is your dream, better dream up some extra cash to pay for all those private classes to supplement your 3 or 4 hours a day of education the government will pay for... and find yourself a magic lamps cuz u need a genie to grant the  even more cash you are going to need for university because no bank is going to give a loan to the son of a fisherman here... It is that harsh reality which beats down the people of Cambodia, new and old, by birth and by desire... They call it the third world not because it was the last to be "discovered," but because it is in places like this that dreams are the least likely to come true... Yet the people here remain bright and cheery, hopeful of a better world and a better future, despite a lack of  iproximity to their own likely future..
Yah, the whole Angkor Wat temple complexes where amazing, but I am in no mood to write of them... There beauty and magisty only serve to remind me of the theme of my journey: "juxtapositions." Perhaps I should be pleased that such a place only makes me think of the contrast between the wealthy tourists and the people whose monuments of lost glories these are, perhaps I should be pleased in my notions of humanity... Never has so good a thing felt so retched.  Ignorance is bliss, perspective may make things more precious to us, yet right now, no matter how grateful I am for my wealthy and liberal upbringing, I cannot get the bitter taste of guilt out of my mouth for winning the lottery of a privileged birth.

And god gave us ears to hear, eyes to see, hearts to feel, and death to end the suffering they would bring.

Cambodia...There and hopefully back again

Well let's just say getting here was a bitch...  The overnight train was an experience to be sure, hotter than holy hell and cramped up in a ball the entire night... Yuk, then it was a treck to the boarder complete with police raid of ilegals off the bus... But not to worry the boarder itself was a breeze... Go talk to this scammer and that scammer, yell at the tuktuk driver to get to the boarder, bribe the actual immigration police, and get a body scan... Then hop into a taxi... Which means an unmarked camrey filled with 9 of your closest khimer friends... And bounce along listening to the latest in khimer discotech until u reachthe city... Not there yet, migrate from one end of the city to the other where you get the chance to hop into the back of a pickup with 28 new palls, yes I counted three times, this 28 of course on top o the 12 in the cab... When you reach that remote village, slap on the roof and hop out, make your way to the guesthouse to wash the baby crap and toddler puke of your legs and face, oh yah, and the adult spittle that didn't quite make it past your face at the 35mph... Woot you did it, now sit back, relax, and enjoy a nice nights sleep filled with wedding music, bugs, and copious amounts of sweat... I ruv this country! 

Laos Roundup

Ok, so here is the deal with Laos, 10 days was plenty, at least for me... Don't get me wrong, cruzing down the Mighty Mekong River was pretty cool, and the landscape was beautiful, it's just that who really wants to spend to full days crammed insides of a boat like cattle going to slaughter??? If I hadn't ventured up onto the roof of the boat with a few other pirates on the second day think that I might have lost my mind... And if you are thinking to yourself, come on Ryan it's not that bad, I say yes, yes it is... Mind you u don't have a seat, so u just sit on the hard wood floor all day crammed in between a drunken British girl that won't shut the hell up and a Laotian that can't afford soap let alone deoderant... Yah, I'm glad I did it, yes it was cool, but it was plenty long enough... Next came Luang Probang.  Again very amazing French colonial town full of cool things, yet the tourists and elivated prices (dirt cheap by American standards but expensive  when it comes to SEA).  Then you drve on down to Vang Vieng.   To be fair there are a bunch of really cool caves you can check out and the abundance of westerners to talk to and watch the super bowl with was cool...But i don't really feel the need to experience perpetual spring break parties... That right, the activity of choice their is to float down the river drunk off your keaster, come back to town an drink some more... That or watch endless episodes of Freinds, Family Guy, or the Simpsons while enjoying delicious shakes laced with your drug of choice... I went to Berkeley, i don't really need to hang out with wanabe CoOpers stretched out on pillows while they trip through their time here in SEA... Finally take yet anther junker minivan ride for 6 hours or so with 14 of your fellow travelers while you cruz down Laos' best road... Ane and a half lane of oil and chip network of patches as you try not to look as you take ever corner at terminal velocity... In fact I think that it might be a government conspiracy to create their very on CERN, with the minivans that smash into each other being the poor man's hydron collider, infact I feel like I could make a pretty baht selling t-shirts with slogans like "I survive the ride on the Loation Atom Smasher"... But I digress... Vientiene, U have a long ways to go my friend... You have no heart, no class, and certainly no tourist appeal... And yah, I got way the hell out of that hammer and sicle banner flying country.... where everyone seems corrupt, cheating people out of their hard earned Kipp is a national past time, a place the US should have  boldly stayed  the hell away from where everyone had gone a failed before, and the food makes you sick... before I wrote any such things... Consequentially I'm glad to be back in Thialand by Jove, in a land who has no peer in beauty, where the people are always wonderful, and the government has done a standup job in every aspect, where great leadership shines through his royal magesty the King, peace and blessings be upon his name.  

And I hate tourists, yuk!

Yah, I have decided that I hate tourists with a passion... So yah, I got roped into giving alms and all, but it could have been a lot worse.... So the morning after my little scam, I went up the street wanting to get a picture or two of the monks as they came out of the monastery, when I was hit with a big wall of tourists, lining the street... I mean really like 200 people up at 6am to take pictures of the event... Well, I thought to myself, they are no different than me right? For the most part they were ok, until the procession of monks came, which turned even the nicest little old granny into a bloodthirsty photographers... I mean it was terrible, people got within inches, literally inches, of the monks snapping cameras off in their faces, at times even
Blocking their way.... It was pretty gross, and I felt bad to part of a tourist industry which allows for this type of destruction of culture to occur...  Then I got a nice little case of food poisoning, I guess my bragging about being immune to such things caught up with me, so yah, I got a bit of a fever and laid in bed until I felt better around 3, when I was brought out of my stopper by the sound of thunder, or what I thought was thunder... I went outside and realized that it was actually drums... I followed the sounds until I arrived a one of the monasteries in the city, where I sat listening to the drums for about half an hour. When it was over, I stayed sitting down just kinda drinking it all in, when a monk came up to me and asked me where I was from... I ended up talking to him for like 2 hours at which point he invited me to come and listen to him and the other monks chant and meditate with them, so I went and listened to them chant for an hour (absolutely amazing by the way) and them meditated with them for another hour... After that I hung out with some of the monks friends in the monistary and another guy who had just left... We talked well I to the night until I finally said good night in search of 7up and OJ... Needless to say it was one of the highlights of my trip thus far... And the picture we took of us all sitting on the steps of the Temple is far better than any shot I could have gotten if I had participated in the mass hysteria which had taken place earlier in the morning.  

My first scam

My first scam....

I got up bright and early one morning, much as I do most mornings on my adventure, to capture the early morning light of the sun within my lens... I walked out the door and began my way down the street past the early morning worshipers preparing to give alms of rice and other treats to the monks, alms which amount to the only meal of the day for them.  Yet this morning unlike any other morning a very pleasant woman invited me to sit down with her as she handed out alms.  I, wanting to be free to capture the moments on film, resisted at first bit then aquiest her requests not wanting to be just another falang Intruding on their culture... I sat and asked questions as best as I could but did not get very far with answers given a massive language difficulty... The monks walked buy in single file ad I handed out loads of sticky rice and little balls of coconut, and whenever my supply got low, it was quickly replenished by the smiling woman... I indicated to the woman that she should help me pass it out but she seemed not to understand what it was I was saying... And all the while I was enamored with the beauty of the process of giving as well as the goodwill of this woman to share jet beloved culture with me... When the procession was over the woman and the two other women that had joined her skilled at me and the said something about paying.  I like a blind fool thought of course I would help to pay for the food we had given out, reached into my wallet to give the main woman two dollars and the other two each one, and why this may not seem like very much at all to the outside reader, I can assure you that it was more than enough to cover the cost of the food... Then the women began to hassle me saying that it wasn't enough, beginning to count up the trays, with the first woman saying that it was five dollars... I began to think to myself " well so much for the beautiful moment, but what is a mother dollar to me?" I gave her one more dollar, and the they as a group began to point to other trays demanding more money... Then it hit me... This was not a beautiful moment of cultural sharing and love, this was straight up tourist extortion... That is when the indignant argumentative self quick to wrath and ruin bet the idealistic philosopher within... My tone went from soft and loving to quick an harsh... Mai Mai (no  no ) I said inky meanest Thai... You sad nothing of paying you neorealism hand, nothing... I pointed to the little old lady next to me and to her food basket and said that she gave from the heart, that karma was the purpose, not money... They got a little nasty then too, speaking mostly Thai bit hey new how to say how much money they wanted in the queen's perfect English at that... Then, all the guilt that I have felt as a tourist for supporting an industry which seems to degrade the culture and way of life o thes people began to boil to the surface.  Bit lo, it was they who shared with me rue reasonability for their destruction.  I would no have called these women vile until, wheni indicated that the money that I had put out was to be share and that I would my be giving out any more, thefitst woman scooped it all up and packed away her things, without any intention of sharing the money... Vile now I name her, for crrupti g her own culture far more than any other... I understand that poverty drives people to do certain things which they would not otherwise do, yet this was not poverty, this was greed... A woman who would ruin her own faith and culture if it meant an extra buck, because that is what she was doing... Her transgression being far worse than the woman who sell their bodies at bars late at night, the monitization of sex being nothing compared to the capitalism of religion, culture, and dignity... My anger and repulsion is fueled not only at these women for destroying their own people and making me an unwitting participant in said breaking, it festers deeper into the matter of my belief that their remained beauty ad decency in this world within each and every person.... A hope and a dream speaking to my youth, ever further dismantled be people such ad these....  I think I better go visit a temple and see real worshipers again at their prayers, do a little meditation on top of yet another mountain, and find a little decency to at least bring my mood back to equilibrium.

The ethics of what we don't eat

So I have been chowing away now the past few nights on the all vegetarian food buffets that line the streets of luang probang... And let me just say that if American vegetarian cooks could get their grub to taste this good, I would have lasted a lot longer as a vegetarian than the 29 days that I did manage... I am talking about a flavor that I did not know was possible... Some secret ingredient that makes a piece of squash spring to life and potatoes dance in my mouth, preforming some sort of ancient tribal ceremony of taste with the beans and noodles around the campfire that is my palette...  High notes of spice meangly with hints of salt and sugar perfectly balanced in Buddhist like harmony with earthy and rustic tones upon the fulcrum of some ancient wisdom, some long hidden and highly coveted secret.... A secret so powerful, so epic, it would not only shake the very landscape of California cusinee, it would alter the very foundations of perceptions of taste; engulfing even the city on a hill that is Che penice, rudicing it to no more than a roadside stand visited only by paupers so destitute that they can afford nothing better to feed there four legged companions... What is this culinary atomic bomb you ask? So secret is it that even most of the initiated only know it by a code name, and only the truly wise members of the cult of scientific worshipers know it by it's true name, still remote fewer understand it's true meaning... One which I will not dare to utter here... I will give you only its nickname, its street name if you will.... Three simple yet life changing letters...
MSG
If indeed the vegetarian life is the better, more socially responsible, and ethically superior form of existence than that of the carnivorous majority... Let us reconsider the ethics if what we eat, or rather in this case, what we don't... We must reconsider this magical chemical able to imbue vegetables with the power to transcend their meager lot on the spectrum that is taste... For if the world truly stands upon the brink of ruin in terms of unsustainable food production, a time may come to pass that MSG shapes the future of us all. 

Notes from Mae Hong Son, Thailand

In the wee hours of morning before sun's first light, I gathered my camera gear and put on my clothes, yet I was far from the only person stirring. I walked out the door of my guesthouse into the refreshingly cool morning air and began my walk up the mountainside. As I walked along the streets just beginning to fill with dawn's first light, I realized that I did not walk alone; for both in front of me leading the way and following behind walked men of the orange cloth. The monks who led my way were out gathering alms of food from the villagers, food which would make up there only meal of the day. As our company progressed up the hill, I split away from the group turning even further up the mountainside. I passed under golden arches guarded by dragons and the spirits of the woods in their shrines. Up a moss covered path I strode until I reached the long nearly endless stair up through the forest into the heart of the mountain. Up and up I climbed, flanked by twin Naga upon stairs so steep and crumbling that I had to grab hold of the scales of the great serpents to keep from failure. Finally, I reached the heart of the mountainside, the great shrine of the Buddha. I came upon the revered image, alone in the quiet of the early morning, and there sat myself down in mirror image of the that great meditater. There in that position I stayed, for several minutes until I finally got lost in the peace that comes when the mind quits searching for something to hold onto and surrenders to the silence. It was in that moment - I use "moment" yet I do not know how long it actually was, time is not a dimension of that space between thoughts - I say, it was in that moment that the sun's first rays reached over the peaks of the easten mountains, falling first upon the Buddha's brow, then slowly continuing to bathe him in golden light. A light, when reflected off of the gold leaf adorng the Buddha, made for a pretty awe inspiring sight. While I am not a Buddhist, nor do I classify myself as a member of some noes age order; there is one thing that I know for sure... In that moment, I got what my old Prof. Phillips was talking about, and what an exeprience it was.

Around Town

Well what to say about Chiang Mai... There are so many things to talk about that I am tempted to keep it short and simple in a way that is not at all like my usulal method of operation... So here it goes, hang on:

  I went blasting up the moutainside on a motor scooter and through the sea of humanity in the streets as rush hour which lasts roughly from 4am in the morning until about 3am the following night.... I met some amazingly cool, free spirit hippy girl from berkeley arts college by way of Nevada city as she asked me for a light in the middle of a park... Played Jenga with previously mentioned artist, a pro, a lady boy, and a three year old as I watched drunk moo•ay•tai fighters kick the shit out of each other... Got blessed by revered monks... Saw a livng statue shrine, where a monk meditates for hours without moving or seemingly breathing...went to cooking school on and organic farm... Almost died of methane poisoning... Oogled at old fat guys going home with young girls, and consequently learned the Thai phrase roughly akin to "not looking for a sexual partner right now thanks"....Talked world cup prospects with a Brit, Sweed, and Italian... Got lost in a night bizaar, awe struck by temples, danced with Thai college girls, ate way to many thing when I had no idea what they were or what was in them... Amazingly didn't get sick... Got swallowed up by the friendliness of strangers... And inspired by a people.... Chiang Mai.... Cool place

The long way

Here follows the account of Will Spear and the finding of the Old Sukhothai (basically I wrote this a few days ago but couldn't post it until now...enjoy).
In my last post I hinted that my coming to Old Sukhothai was a bit of an adventure, and indeed what an adventure it was... I got up nice and early in the morning in the cityof LopBuri so that I could catch the early train up to the city of Phitsanulok, from which I planned on catching a bus to the Sukhothai. Needless to say, things did not go as well as I should have hoped. To begin with, the early train which is a faster an nicer, was unexpectedly filled with a few million school children touring the area, such that seating which I had been assured the previous day would be plentiful, was, in a word, nonexistent. So I got to sit at the train station for an extra two hours or so until my shitty slow train with nearly iron seating arrived... The train was scheduled to take 5 hours to reach our destination; rather than the three and a half of the faster train which I couldn't get a seat on. I napped for about an hour or so and spent the rest of the time looking out the window at the endless rice fields and scenery. We stopped a few times for passing trains and what not and at the 5 hour mark I startedto get my stuff down and prepared to get off. In order to appreciate the situation there are a few things which I should further explain. You see, for the most part all of the train stations you pass through don't show up on your map, and aside from the major ones, you cannot tell where you are at unless you read Thai: I, unlike Jack, don't talk Thai Pam, don't talk Thai at all (meet the parents reference). So basically you look at your ticket and see what time you ate suppose to arrive and that is when you know when you should be getting off. Well, as my arival time came, my station did not, and we ploded along. Then we passed a big lake, and I though to myspef, huh... That shouldn't be there! I pulled out my big map to see wha lake it was, and HELLO, there was a big old lake at the halfway point! Shit. So yah, it took another three hours... Another three hours of two screaming French children running up and down the eyes and crying, three hours of me starving, and three more hours of little Thai ladys walkng up and down the isles screaming thier wares which included foul smelling meet products, which god help me o came perilously close to consuming... When finally we did arrive, I walked from the train station to the bus station. But when I got there, I found it was the wrong station, so I alked back to the train station to beg help in vetting to the right one. One of the train people got me on a little taxi thing which is bascally a quad with a covered trailer. Just before we were about to depart the woman told me that it would be 1 Here follows the account of Will Spear and the finding of the Old Sukhothai (basically I wrote this a few days ago but couldn't post it until now...enjoy).
In my last post I hinted that my coming to Old Sukhothai was a bit of an adventure, and indeed what an advnture it was... I got up nice and early in the mornng in the cityof LopBuri so that I could catch the eay train up to the city of Phitsanulok, from which I planned on catching a bus to the Sukhothai. Needless to say, things did not go as well as I should have hoped. To begin with, the early train which is a faster an nicer, was unexpectedly filled with a few million school children tourning the area, such that seating which I had been assured the previous day would be plentiful, was, in a word, noexistent. So I got to sit at the train station for an extra two hours or so until my shitty slow train with nearly iron seating arrived... The train was schedualed to take 5 hours to reach our destination; rather than the three and a half of the faster train which I couldn't get a seat on. I naped for about an hour or so and spent the rest ofthe time looking out the window at the endless rice fields and scenery. We stopped a few times for passng trains and what not and at the 5 hour mark I startedto get my stuff down and prepaired to get off. In order to appreciate the situation there are a few things which I should further explain. You see, for the most part all of the train stations you pass through don't show up on your map, and aside from the major ones, you cannot tell where you are at unless you read Thai: I, unlike Jack, don't talk Thai Pam, don't talk Thai at all (meet the parents reference). So basically you look at your ticket and see what time you ate suppose to arrive and that is when you know when you should be getting off. Well, as my arival time came, my station did not, and we ploded along. Then we passed a big lake, and I though to myspef, huh... That shouldn't be there! I pulled out my big map to see wha lake it was, and HELLO, there was a big old lake at the half 500 baht, for what should have been about 100... My spidy senses tingling, I told her the Thai word for bus station, she looked irritated with me and told the kid driving the contraption something an he sped off. After about four minutes of m trying to signal the kid to pull over, he finally did and we had a nice little chat about where I wanted to go and for how much. Indeed I did not want a two hour ride to Sukhothai, buta five
minute one to the bus station. He seemed to understand, but over the roar of the freeway we had somehow gotten on and the whole issue of language, it was hard to be sure. Yet, arrive we did at the bus station safe and sound. I waited arond for a while longer got on a bs and rode inbetween two old monks for a few hours until I got to the New Sukhothai. Tired and disheveled, I got to my guesthouse, at some food and went in search of a massage.
My but and back have never hurt that bad before, so sore were they from sitting in seats designed for people literally half of my size. I had yet to get a massage while in Thailand so I figured that there was no better time to go for it. What followed wase being ripped apart by the strongest little Asian woman I think might exist n the planet. This was no soft massage with scented oils, nor even a deep tissue massage. I got twisted and turnd in direcions I did not know I could bend, such that half way through it I was wishing I had stumbled into a
dirty massage parlor run by ladyboys, but this was not the case... Thankfully the secnd half hour was actually relaxing and I did walk away feeling both limber and relaxed... Yet still, it was a ranger fitting ending to a most interesting and unexpected days events.

As to the ruins of Old Sukhothai, it was one of the most amazing and spectacular places I have ever been, such that I feel my words
will never be able t do it justice. That said, I shan't try do describe it, I will simply have to show pictures to anyone who cares to see it when I return.

Cats, Dogs, Monkeys, & Big Black Birds

Now that I Come to it at last, I realize that I have yet to say much about the places that i have seen thus far. This is do partially to the fact that i have only had internet access a few times, and that this has been on my phone where typing can be a bit tedious. Yet now I find myself with free access to a computer, i shall endeavor to give a quick few snippets of my adventures. To begin with Ayuthaya was quite impressive as my opening to my little adventure. It was once a seat of power some 500 years ago and there are many impressive ruins about the city. It is quite remarkable in that you see these massive ruins with little shacks surrounding them; there are in a way integrated into the city system, still in use by the people in some places a supports for their food stalls an hovels. In some parts of the city, great open spaces with ruins and intact Wats are fenced off and kept in the best possible conditions. How they go about deciding which to keep preserved and which to allow to decay I have no idea, given that it does not seem to be based upon the size, impressiveness, or age. At any rate, I quite enjoyed the experience of renting a bicycle for around 70cents for the day, and riding down the roads from temple to temple, getting lost amongst the many streets and back lanes - a theme which i would soon realize would mark the entirety of the adventure.
After exploring Ayuthaya, I ventured by train up North to the City of LopBuri, a rather larger city by populace than Ayuthaya, yet it has a fair number less ruins than than its southern neighbor. Yet still, the quite remarkable this about this place is the massive number of macaques, the little (and in some cases rather large) monkeys are bloody well everywhere. They climb up street signs, up building,across power and phone lines, all over the ruins, and yes, all over unsuspecting tourists. I say, my person was accosted and laid upon by no fewer than 11 monkeys throughout the course of my visit. You may guess that the first time this happened was rather shocking to say the least. I was walking down the street, when, from up on high, I was beset by a monkey. The little bugger had jumped from some lofty perch straight onto my back. Needless to say I was more than a little bit surprised by such an occurrence, lost all my wits, and flung about wildly until I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the curbside (by which I mean I danced around wildly, twisting this way and that, reached up and threw the little guy off me and ran away from him). That night, I had dinner with a Frenchman that I happened to chance meet, and after conversing for some time on such subjects as engineering, philosophy, law, and politics, we got down to the very fine business of determining that each city that we had ventured through thus far seemed to have its own representational animal. That is, that in each city, there is one species of animal that is allowed to flourish and run wild through the streets. To begin with, Bangkok has hoards of cats that run everywhere; a fact which I noticed in my short transportation time passing through the city, and later confirmed by my french compatriot. Ayuthaya has its packs of wild dogs which roam here and there, and LopBuri its Monkeys. When I say that they are ever present, I mean that one can barely take a step in any direction without fear of stepping on one. They are bloody well everywhere! This theory, I have since confirmed, when upon my arrive at my current location of Sukothai, I discovered that being void of cats, dogs, or monkeys, it is inhabited by large black birds which perch everywhere and cry quite loudly. Yet, my present location and how I came to be here is a different story wholly unto itself; and which I shall relay in its proper time and place. As for now, I am off to test my fortunes in the ruins of Old Sukothai against the white rain, which the birds are so willing to provide.

Thai Purfume

Well my first few days of exploration were pretty amazing... But I think I should start at the airport. To begin with things seemed pretty similar to any city airport: there were planes trains and automobiles everywhere... I got a ticket and onto the train station bus with the greatest of ease, the entire time thinking to myself that there was no way my dad would have been so relaxed over the whole process. The train station reminded me of King's Cross in London, and apart from my butchering of the pronunciation of "Ayutthaya" getting on the train was again, surprisingly easy... That's when things started to change... As the train pulled out of the station I started to notice real differences between here and King's Cross, to begin with, the train pulled right through out into what was probably the poorest area I have ever been in my life... I am not talking about little houses or apartments, huts would also be a bit generous, I am talking more about rusty slabs of tin as roofs held up by odd bits of bamboo and twine. Trash was everywhere, massive amounts of it all over the place, bit unlike hoarders these people keep everything because a bit of plastic is valued as something which could conceivably be used... As we rumbled on a little further i saw multiple walled communities with names emblazoned in bronze like "nice village" and "modern houses" yet the walls which were there to separate the wealthy from the poor actually bought the poor closer by Giving people a very solid wall which they could create there homes against... Yet still, despite there positions of poverty, I am willing to bet that a great deal of these people were far happier than a great many Americans. Children where running around playing and laughing, mothers were cooking meals on makeshift stoves over fires fueled my bits of dung and other goodies, everywhere there were smiles, it was a pretty humblng experience... As we moved further and further out of the city, I saw how the Thai government deals with all the trash along the roads (I am fairly sure that most all trash ends up here from the city as opposed to a trash can becuase it was like all the contents of a dump, from bits of plastic to matresses and bathtubs) they rake it up and burn it, or they don't rake it up and just straight up burn it... I really think that a patch was on fire about every half mile. The smoke mixes with the sewage in the seeming never ending network of nearly stagnent pools and canals of water to make for quite the purfume which sticks to everthing thanks to the humidity... Welcome to the rest of the world little white boy... If perspective was my so called reason for coming here... I think that this trip will definatly achieve the said purpose.

From One Side to Another

Well, I made it... And what a long way it was. I got on the plane in SFO thinking to myself, how bad can this be... I mean it's far, but it's not that far right... WRONG... It IS that far... The first leg was pretty bad 14 hours cramped in the far back of the plane shoved in the corner with the only entertainment to speak of being a small screen 15 rows up which i couldn't see... The ambien lasted about 5 hours the rest of the time was spent trying to get comfy... Which didn't happen.
Next came a layover in Taiwan... All I remember about that place is that there are some serious mountains around the airport... Then the flight to Hong Hong .... I spent that flight praying that I wasn't going to die... It was uber foggy out and the pilot in his wisdom decided to freak everyone out through the massive turbulence by cutting the engines back and then ramping them back up constantly, so much so that no one, including the
flight attendants by there facial expression, was to sure that the engines weren't going to blow up... And as I sat there looking around, i thought to myself "hey, this could be fun, it will be like lost." I sat wondering if I would be the leader like Jack, the sneaky bastard like Sawyer, or the crazy guy like Lock... Then I realized that no... I wouldn't be those guys, I would be Jin, the guy that nobody understood what the hell he was saying because I was one of like 3 whiteys on the plane, and the other guys were German... I would be Jin and I wouldn't have a wife to translate for me... Yah, worst flight ever...
Then came yet another layover in HongHong which I spent walking the entirety of the massive airport... I got on that 3 hour flight in a rather exhausted stated... At least I got to watch a lame Bruce Willis movie on that flight... I landed in Bangkok, got lost in the airport trying to find my luggage until I figured out I had to go through customs first... So I got my stamps, got my gear and hopped on a bus to the train station where I was accosted by an English girl who wouldn't shut up no matter how many I'm tired and want to sleep hints I dropped... I got to the train station and took a 2 hour ride through the poorest part of the city and then out and up to ayutthia... I got of the train and met up with a guy who looked just as lost as me, we made our way to a river crossing ferry, then we parted ways an I walked down the street until I found a guesthouse that I had read about... The had a room, thank god, I took it, dropped off my shit and went in search of food and drink as I had had nothing but a beer and a bit of airplane pasta since dinner in sf... I was so tired I settled for a liter of water, went back to my guesthouse, had a shower and went to bed.... It was a good sleep.

The Green Dragon

So here I am, sitting at the Firewood Grill in SFO, sipping a pint wondering what the *+%# I am doing... Three months ago I got an email from Meg telling me I should come out to SE Asia... I thought to myself Thailand huh... Why not? So now I sit in SFO awaiting the start of the grand adventure... I will be living outta my backpack for the next two months, in a foreign land... For no other reason in my mind for going than because it was on the menu... Don't get me wrong, I am super excited, it is just that it all feels a little strange now that I come to it at last... The longest that I have ever been on my own for was 4 days in a national park surrounded by A bunch d folks named Jones and Smith... And now I am off for 2 months... Maybe I will leave as a 22 year old boy lost in the realm of adults and come back as a boy who can be a man when he wants in order to satisfy society and his soul without ever losing his schoolboy heart... Or maybe I am just a guy who likes to think about everything on a grandiose philosophical scale... Yet at the very least I am sure that this all seems very surreal.... Surreal, but nice.

$25 Underwear

Well, I'm getting closer and closer to the big departure and in the course of all of my preparation, I think that I have stumbled upon a new masters thesis... why white people feel great about buying $25 underwear so long as the brand is EXOFFICIO... I mean come on... here I am looking in guidebooks for the cheapest tuk-tuk, crossing off possible guesthouses because they cost and extra $2 a night, looking for the cheapest place to buy bottled water in Chaing Mai so I can save 1.8 cents a purchase, yet sitting in my REI designer backpack is $50 in underwear... for 2 freaking pairs...and why, oh, why do i think that that is acceptable in my mind...BECAUSE, this underwear dries really quickly....Dries really quickly you say? YES, dries really quickly!!!! And every other liberal, granola, wannabe hill man out there is so with me on this one, because yah... they might be $25 bucks a pair, but they dry REALLY quickly!!! Forget about the fact that for the same price I could literally turn normal underwear into single use underwear (by this I mean i could put on a brand new pair, wear for a day, defecate in them, chuck em, and repeat)... cause man... do these ones dry quickly... I find it so very interesting that we all wear goodwill clothes with a certain badge of smug honor, scorning those dumb bitches who spend their hard earned greenbacks at designers stores, yet when it comes to REI, ridiculous prices there get a pass, and not just a pass, but a high five... cuz man... those threads, they dry like super fast...

Although I must admit, the idea of finding a pair Exofficio underwear at the goodwill... wow... if only i didn't have a phobia of wearing second hand drawers...

As an afterthought: along these same lines is my $200 flashlight which doubles as a meat tenderizer (especially meat still attached to a would be assailant) which i just spent $18 on for new batteries!

Ticket Bought

Well, I did it, I bought the bastard... 41 hours of transit, 3 countries, 58 days, one survivor!

Pre-Book Freakout

So I have done copious amounts of research on flights, visas, and timetables for the big trip. I know more than I ever intended to, and therein, I believe, is the problem. What is the problem you ask? Well that's simple, I am scared of making the big ticket purchase only to find out an hour later that I should have done something differently. My main concern right now is the timing. Timing has never been my strong suit, from birthdays to love to finals, my timing has always been a little off; like that time I forgot to turn in a final only to remember as I went to get another round between pool games. In this instance the dilemma mainly revolves around how long I ought to be going for. My life at the moment has consisted of day to day activities and the main way I keep track of time is my temporal relationship to the next soccer game planning, so the very thought of scheduling to be gone for 2 months time scares the crap out of me. Moreover, since I am off by myself as the master of my own domain rather than tagging along a guided tour I will invariably be responsible for planning my own life, an intensely gratifying yet foreign concept. So can I handle booking a ticket back to the states a full 58 days after I leave them...I sure hope so...I need to muster my courage or else i fear i shall regret it for the rest of my life.

The Inaugural Post

Welcome one and welcome all! I am so very excited to have finally finished the construction of this blog (next time I think I will outsource the damn thing). This bad boy should be the prime source for all of you Will fixes, as I plan to update it as often as I can. The next couple of months' posts will make up the first volume of this blog with multiple volumes to follow at times to be announced. Over the course of this volume I hope to share with you the inner-workings of mine genius as I plan for, embark to, and hopefully return from South East Asia. Hopefully by the end of it all I can finally find some quiet place to settle down and finish my book.