Beth and I on one of our fun, fantastic evenings in the Philippines.
I first met my spike-heel wearing, heat-packing friend Beth in the Philippines at a benefit concert for Bob, a man who has since passed away. I was enamored immediately. I make a habit of collecting blunt, passionate friends who tell me what to do. And don’t mind when I refuse. We had so much fun together in her home country, that meeting up in mainland SE Asia was a natural next step. Well, kind of.
For the past month, we’ve been in SE Asia. Here are some interesting things I’ve noticed or that have popped into my brain:
While this toilet paper doesn't share the same textures/qualities as Laos toilet paper, it IS the same color pink!
Toilet Paper Streamers — strangely, in Lao only, the toilet paper is almost exactly like those paper streamers bought cheaply to decorate parties. While double the width and slightly less waxy, the texture, accordion crinkles, the way it stretches without breaking are all the same. Oh, and sometimes it’s grandma-pink.
It’s been almost two years since I gave up my “real” job. And in eight more weeks, a whole year will have passed since I last swapped my time for money in New Zealand. I’m not gonna lie. It’s really fulfilling to be following my dream, and my ‘classes’ out here in the school-of-the-world are even more rewarding and educational than I’d hoped.
What my friends and family seem to think I usually do with my time…
Affording a small period of ‘freedom’ or ‘early retirement’ has been a lifelong dream of mine. I’d always hoped for at least a year and in the spirit of ‘dreaming big’ secretly coveted even more time. Could I make it two years? Three? FIVE?!
But it’s not all roses.
A monk’s living quarters
Wanting more seems to be a human condition. Especially below a certain standard of living. Clearly we could all stand to learn something from wise, old sages (are there young sages?) who live a simple life in basic conditions. Perhaps those few enlightened individuals cause us to romanticize basic conditions, even when they’re experienced by those whose goals are more common – making a living, providing for a family, getting an education.
I don’t begrudge anyone the benefits of development. I understand why,
If I was an executive from New York on a Vocation Vacation, this blog entry could read as a major drama.
What I feel like after a particularly trying stretch of travel. (This picture was actually taken just after sunrise on a wilderness backpacking trip with striking similarities to traveling... living out of a bag, sleeping almost anywhere, eating strange food, lowering cleanliness standards...)
It’s tempting to write it like that — it would be more fun for you to read while surrounded by the comfort of “western” conveniences. But the truth is, for “third world” travel to be fun, you just have to take things in stride. This is one of the lessons of travel I value most and that I hope to carry with me into the future. To nearly quote Liz Gilbert, traveling – particularly cheap and dirty traveling – is pretty much nothing but one glitch and hassle after another, interrupted by the occasional stunning sunset, gorgeous temple, or fantastic meal.
My first introduction to the concept of building with unprocessed materials was in the miserly Mr. Grahms 4th grade class at Meadowlark Elementary. All Campbell County 4th graders study Wyoming history. The Great Plains of the U.S. were a tough place before infrastructure. It pleased me to pieces to know many pioneer families lived in dugout homes — as in: a hole dug into a hillside with a sod roof. No, I wasn’t gloating about their rough luck: I was inspired! “If all it takes to build a house is a shovel, I could build my own house! Right now!” thought my 10-year-old brain.
This appealed to juvenile Jema way more than any fort!
At the risk of offending, let’s imagine there is an organization of Little People. Actually, I’m sure that part is true. What we’re imagining is that they’ve built an entire city specifically to accommodate Little People. And you’ve been transferred there as a [your profession] for a few months.
Imagine the doorway to the home you’re going to rent being just a bit too low. Envision the way your knees will be higher than your belly button when you sit on the toilet. Realize that many chairs you try to sit in won’t be wide enough for your hips. Recognize that the shower head won’t be mounted high enough for you to stand underneath it. Practice keeping your elbows tucked into your body, lest they hit someone in the face.
Regular readers of this blog might notice that not too many entries ago I wrote about my birthday. Now, so soon, it is Pat’s turn.
The amazing place Pat took me for my birthday last year - Roy's Peak. After sleeping in, of course. And eating a fancy breakfast.
That our birthdays fall three days apart has been the source of much tension in the past. I am not shy about admitting that I want a “princess” birthday. You can imagine just how crestfallen I was when, on my first ‘special day’ within the context of our relationship, Pat came home, dropped his stuff on the couch and said, “So, what do you want to do tonight?”
Want to cool your heels on the edge of an unspoiled tropical river? Consume limitless quantities of delicious food and drink? Be surrounded by the beauty of temples and a culture of cleanliness? Veg out all day on free wi-fi? Sun yourself in a hammock on a palm-tree studded green lawn? Cruise around town on your rented scooter?
The view from our porch - Kanchanaburi
What price do you suppose this laid-back list of luxuries fetches in Thailand? $50? $75? No, my friends. Depending on your tastes, in Kanchanaburi all this is yours for between $10 and $20. If you’re feeling especially extravagant, you can drop another $10 to get a massage or get rip-roaring drunk.
The joys of Thailand. Not only is it gorgeous, friendly, delicious, and clean… it’s unbelievably cheap.
Bliss overwhelmed my senses as we passed through our first sights, smells, and sounds of Thailand.
A little geography lesson, if you please
The last time I set foot in this country, I was arriving from home. I’d left behind tidy lawns, anti-littering campaigns, wide streets, even sidewalks, familiar favorite foods, and birds chirping in the relative silence of a small town behind the Redwood Curtain.
Now, it’s been nearly two years since I’ve had a home, a third of year since my fleeting visit to U.S. soil, and the last eight weeks of my life were spent in the Philippines – a lovely country with plenty of blog-worthy quirks.
Hungry for more? More time? More money? More health? More wholeness?
Hungry for less? Less rushing? Less pressure? Less stress? Less fractured attention?
Please come on in! I’ve been collecting wins and losses for a few decades (and counting). I hope sharing them helps you on your adventure through your one wild and precious life.
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