The Best of Thailand: Part 1

April 2-9. A week has passed since I arrived at the orphanage. I have done more during this week than I have since New Zealand. So, in that case, I’m not going write a detailed account of each day. Instead, I’m going to list the events that I have done, in detail, as well as describe the people of the orphanage. I hope this is sufficient for everyone because it is becoming increasingly difficult to find the time or energy to devote to write a day’s worth of events. There are also so many things I have done that I will need to split this post into 2 parts.

So firstly, I must describe the staff and children who have made my time here as exciting as it could be. They are all incredibly accommodating, providing me with whatever I need or they think I need. I barely sit down and start to enter a state of relaxation before they find me and suggest embarking on another exciting adventure. The only time when I am not constantly trying new things or having fun is when I sleep, but even there my roommate, Clash, wants to play games and talk late into the night.

The boys spend the most time with me, mainly 3 of them: Ekkphan, Wiwat, and Sawan, all of whom speak relatively good English. Many of them are eager to spend time with me and practice their English. Even during my daily runs, at least one kid accompanies me. The girls, on the other hand, are much shyer, although they become more accustomed to my presence with each passing day. The other day, when I played a game with the girls, they were shy in the beginning, but towards the end of the game they were perfectly fine with shouting orders at me when I broke a rule or played the game wrong. The girls also call me Miji, just as the monk children had done in China. Apparently my Thai name is also two syllables which can easily be confused. When I tried to correct them they just laughed at me and carried on with my new name, though, honestly, I find it pretty funny.

There are several Rustic staff members here, but the ones I have become closest with are Bay, Goe, and Bowjoe. Goe is Karen, while Bowjoe is Burmese. They both love taking me out to experience the surrounding town and relish introducing me to local girls from the town. I help teach the children English every day with Tim, who is valuable if I ever want to speak in a regular fashion with someone. The rest of the staff are great to hang around with, although some don’t speak too much English or are just as shy as the girls.

The community service aspect of my trip is being fulfilled every day, except Sundays which are off days for everyone. I teach the kids English with Tim at 9am every morning, educating them in everything from the word smile to rhyming words to knowing that ph makes the same sound as f. Before noon I help lug away branches that are cut from a forest near the orphanage. Bay and Bowjoe free climb 40 foot trees, with machetes in their mouths, in order to cut the branches from the top. This wouldn’t be difficult if the trees had decent footholds, but the trees they climb are as smooth as palm trees and as straight as pine trees. They both make it seem extremely easy, but it isn’t. On my second day here, I free climbed to the top of one of the trees and hacked down a branch. The climbing and the cutting left me exhausted and I barely had enough energy to slide down the trunk. I also help out with several other odd jobs, such as planting flowers, weeding the mud garden, and picking fruit, which the orphanage grows, although I sometimes take a break and eat a jackfruit or a few local berries.

Another daily routine I have fallen into is playing soccer every evening with the kids and staff. They destroy me in skill and it’s hard to say if I even make a difference to any team I am assigned to, but it’s still plenty of fun. Soccer seems to be their favorite sport here and every local is skilled at it, although they do love another sport just as much it seems. Kaneball (the American name for it) is a sport they play avidly at the orphanage. It’s similar to volleyball, but you can only use your feet and head. I’m hopeless at the sport, yet I watch and learn all the same.

The food here is amazing, but can sometimes be unbearably spicy. I need to pay for 1 meal a day, but I am provided with delicious cuisine for every meal. At first, it was uncomfortable to eat specially made food (everyone else eats different food which is cooked in bulk), but since I started to learn to make my own meals and cook them myself, I feel much better about eating the food. The Rustic cook has taught me to make several Thai meals and I usually help her cook them when I’m not busy. I’ve learned to make paka poa, sweet sticky rice with mango, yellow curry, green curry, bla lap pri, and several other dishes.

And so, this ends the first part of the list of activities I’ve done during my first week at the orphanage. Tomorrow I’ll post part two, but don’t be surprised if there is a part 3. I will probably be reminded of more things I have done since I’ve been here. The days have become so entwined, and everything I’ve done has happened so quickly, that it’s hard to distinguish one event from another. Thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoy this post.

An Unexpected Meal and a Chaotic Introduction

April 2. I ended yesterday’s post earlier than I would normally have done, but it was because I ended the night with anther cab ride and falling asleep at the base. This morning, however, was much more eventful. Bay and Yutanna, the orphanage manager, drove me to Lotus this morning. Lotus is similar to a Wall-Mart, except it has an aisle dedicated to street food. Although the cooks aren’t cooking the food on the street, I still consider it street food because they are cooking their produce exactly how street vendors normally do. I picked up some Thai noodles, but I am disappointed to say that they cannot compare to Chinese noodles, in my opinion. Their thin, tasteless noodles, spicy broth, and large meatballs didn’t really do it for me, but that could just be the result of some peculiar taste buds. I also picked up a soccer ball when Bay told me that the orphanage didn’t own a regular sized one and I was able to buy it for less than 70 bat (roughly 2 American dollars). Then we were finally able to hit the road for a three hour drive to the orphanage.

We stopped twice along the way there and both breaks took at least an hour. Our first stop was to buy flowers to plant at the orphanage. Who knew bargaining the price of a lotus flower would take 45 minutes? Our second stop was for lunch, which turned out to be pretty interesting. We again bought street food, but I chose my own meal this time (I have since let Bay recommend meals for me to try). I bought sticky rice and pork sausage. Yutanna wanted to eat at a restaurant, where Bay and I happily joined him.

 Before I started to eat my own lunch, Yutanna offered me a barbequed egg. It was delicious and I ate at least three of them before I ate my food. The rice was particularly delicious and the sausage was flavorsome, yet there was a strange taste to each one. When I mentioned this to Bay he let out a poorly stifled snigger. “What’s so funny?” I asked. When he didn’t say anything I asked again, a bit more suspiciously. He burst of laughing and said “How did you like your brain sausage?” I laughed along with him, thinking he was just pulling my leg. “Brain? You’re hilarious… but seriously, what’s with the taste?” I asked. He laughed again and said “Main ingredient is brain, I’m serious.” It was hard to believe, but I knew he wasn’t lying. At that moment, I realized I had eaten brain for the first time in my life.

Feeling slightly repulsed, I spent the next 2 hours trying to doze off. We finally arrived at the orphanage, and contrary to my original belief, it is not in the middle of nowhere. It’s located near the town of Maesariang, yet the vast, open rice fields surrounding the orphanage create a feeling of total isolation. I arrived at 7pm and since it was dark, I wasn’t able to make out anything other than the fields and the 3 large buildings I was first introduced to.

The largest and main building is the Big House, which holds the class areas and the girls’ dormitory on the second floor. Directly south of that are 2 buildings, one is the boys’ dormitory and the second is the kitchen/dining hall. They had already eaten dinner by the time I arrived, and I didn’t possess much of an appetite after lunch anyway.

The Rustic staff came out immediately to introduce themselves. I met the cook, a Burmese staff member, another local Thai member, and a western staff member. It was hard to pronounce everyone’s name at the time and the only one I can manage to remember was Tim, the westerner.

In order to introduce me to the orphans, and to break the ice, Tim organized a game. All 25 of us gathered in a circle in the Big House. We went around the circle, introducing ourselves and repeating each other’s names in return. It was impossible for me to remember the names of Ekkphan, Mayuree, Sawang, Witwat, and Jaruwan, but I tried my best. Everyone introduced themselves in impressively good English and even stated where they were from and what their favorite food was.

Afterwards, Tim provided us with another game. He handed us all balloons and rubber bands and instructed us to fill the balloons with air and strap them to our feet. Then, when everyone had finished and looked quite ridiculous, Tim told us to try to pop on everyone’s balloon and the last three would receive ice cream. Pandemonium occurred as everyone rushed around the enclosure, pinning each other in place, teaming up on helpless youngsters and trying their best to destroy their opponent’s balloon. My feet throbbed after 10 minutes of countless kids stamping on my feet and I soon lost in the competition. I sat on the sidelines with the other people who had gotten out and laughed out loud with everyone else. It was hysterical to see so many adults and kids running around and stamping on each other’s feet, with all dignity forgotten.

When a few kids had finally been named champions and received their ice cream, it was time for bed. I was then led to my room in the boys’ dormitory building. I will be rooming with another orphan, who calls himself Clash. He’s a small, rambunctious boy of about 12, but he was helpful in showing me the bathroom and providing me with a fan for these hot and humid nights. When he showed me our room, I wasn’t surprised to see a small room with two thin cots on the floor. By now I am used to sleeping on hard surfaces, the cot did almost nothing to alleviate the stiffness of the floor, and I graciously lay down on the bed where I will sleep for the next 2 weeks. Clash went to sleep almost immediately after giving me the grand tour, but I stayed awake, reading late into the night. I couldn’t fall asleep because every so often, when I tried to lay down my book, I would realize where I was and how fortunate I am to be in this situation. That thought kept me up late, but sooner or later, I dozed off, still clutching my book in my hands.

Thailand

April 1. When I awoke this morning, I was surprised to see Chatchai and Bay sleeping on the floor in the one roomed base house. They had nothing but pillows for comfort and I felt guilty for having taken the only bed. After I had changed into shorts and a t-shirt, they both woke up. Bay asked if I wanted to experience my first Thai meal and I responded with a curt nod, still too groggy to speak aloud. Bay and Chatchai had slept in their clothes so they walked outside at once.

Around the corner was a small market, where we ate, with half of its shelves empty or scarcely containing anything. We sat down near the kitchen stove and Bay called out for 3 orders of paka poa. I had never had paka poa so I was slightly nervous to see what I would find on my plate. In the meantime, I talked with Bay about his past and how he came to be with Rustic. He explained that he was of the Aka tribe, but most of the orphans were of Karen decent. He told me of how he had never finished 9^th grade and worked as a bus boy before he was picked up by Rustic Pathways at the age of 19. They put him through English classes and gave him a job as a trip manager. When he had finished his story, our food had arrived.

Paka poa is made up of spicy basil, chilies, pork, an egg, and rice. It is also one of the most delicious dishes I have had in a while. Although it felt as if my mouth were on fire, I still ate every last scrap of the 2t orders I requested. I had never been so thirsty in my life afterwards and must have drunk at least 4 liters of water before we set out from the restaurant. Then Bay asked me if I wanted to into town and tour a traditional Buddhist temple. When I asked him about going to the orphanage, he told me that since the Rustic driver won’t be here until tomorrow, we need to stay in Chiang Mai for another day. I was all for going to the temple, so Bay called the driver from the day before and we were there in 30 minutes.

The temple was situated on the top of a mountain that overlooked the entirety of Chiang Mai and is one of the last temples in this area. We walked up several steps until we came to the statue of a renowned monk. Chatchai and Bay bowed in prayer to the statue and I followed suit. 400 stairs later, we had arrived at the top. My jaw dropped when I saw the beautiful mountain of the gold plated temple that was set at the mountain’s peak. Surrounding it, were several tourists and worshipping areas. Taking off our shoes, we strode into the area, but Chatchai told me I needed to walk around the temple 3 times before I could walk around freely.

After the walk, Bay led me to the area of luck. We bowed 3 times to a large Buddha and then took a container full of sticks from the floor. Bay instructed me to shake the container hard until a few sticks fell out, then I was to pick a stick from the floor and take a piece of paper that matched the number on the stick. I received the number 26 and took the piece of paper that would describe my luck. Apparently I’m very lucky and good things will come my way. Bay, on the other hand, had dreadful luck, according to his paper, and Chatchai had neutral luck, with everything staying as it was. Bay moaned as he read his aloud and Chatchai when read his aloud, he just walked away looking supremely unconcerned.

Afterwards, we walked to the largest of the Buddhas and bowed 3 times. Then we crawled over to a monk surrounded by several hundred, white bands of yarn. When I looked closer, I realized they were simple bracelets. We bowed 3 times to him as well and bowed our heads in prayer as he sprinkled water on us. Bay held out his right arm, which I did as well, and the monk placed a bracelet on each of our wrists. We crawled back, bowed 3 times to the statue, and exited the area. “Don’t take it off for 3 days or you will have bad luck.” Bay said. I grinned at him and said “Doesn’t matter for you. You’re already doomed.” He punched me playfully on the arm and we walked back down to the van.

Before we piled into the van, I grabbed a quick bite to eat from the street vendors. Eating street food has become part of my daily life and it didn’t faze me as it would have during my first week in China. I picked up some pineapple and green mango, but what surprised me was that the vendors handed me small packets of red and white powder as well. “It’s sugar and chili.” Bay explained. When I tried some with the pineapple I was hit by a sensation of overly sweet and overly spicy fruity flavor. Never before had I tasted anything this pungent and I stopped eating it after that one try, content with regular, plain fruit.

We came back to the base house and relaxed for a while until nightfall, during which Bay napped and Chatchai showed me his Dreamweaver software while he played some Thai rap. At around 5pm, Bay awoke and asked if I wanted to go to the night market. Again, I was all for it. This time, however, we couldn’t take the van because the driver was out to dinner. So we walked out of our safe district and onto the highway trying to flag down a taxi.

The taxies in Chiang Mai are inconvenient for several reasons. For one, there are too few of them to go around. For another, they are red trucks with closed backs containing very uncomfortable seats for you to sit on. But the most inconvenient aspect of them is the drivers, who insist on taking the bumpiest and windiest roads possible in order take the speediest route. We walked down the high way for an hour until we finally caught sight of, and then waved down one of the few taxies. Then we sat on their metal barred seats for 45 minutes, frequently swerving and bumping into one another.

Walking around Chiang Mai is a lot like walking around any American city. There are plenty of people, it’s loud and can sometimes be unpleasant, and there are plenty of designer stores waiting to sell you pointless merchandise. The only difference is that the sidewalks are filled with shops. They are mainly there for tourists, of course, but there are plenty of cheap clothing stores and food vendors for locals to enjoy.

We stopped at one such vendor who tried her best to make it feel like a restaurant, taking a table and chairs and parking them literally on the sidewalk. We ate some real, unforgettable Thai curry that night. It was better than anything I had ever had while back in the U.S. I ate until I started to hate myself for eating so much, but it was too good to pass up. Afterwards, we roamed the streets, stopping here and there to look at an item or buy a t-shirt or cologne for Bay and Chatchai. I didn’t buy anything that night. There will be plenty of time later on to worry about souvenirs. For now, I’m just trying to soak up as much of Thailand as I can.

The Beginning of the End

March 31. An air of excitement surrounded me as I awoke this morning to pack. Leung was already up, watching TV. He gave me a bright and cheery “Good morning!” as soon as I stumbled out of bed, but I wasn’t fooled. As soon as he turned his head away I saw his shoulders lower in sadness and he let out an audible sigh. After I was packed and ready for my flight, we had breakfast at the hotel. I loaded my plate with sweet dumplings and noodles, intent on eating as much Chinese food as I could before arriving in Thailand. Before I knew it, it was 11am and Leung was waving down a taxi to take me to the airport.

Leung dragged my suitcase (now packed to its capacity) towards the check-in line when we arrived at the airport. I tried to carry the bag myself, but he snatched it away from me, not unkindly, saying “You need to be comfortable before you arrive in Thailand.” So we came to the check-out counter and realized that I couldn’t receive my boarding pass for another hour. I sat down near the counter, completely prepared to spend an hour alone, but Leung refused to leave before he had seen me through security. I was touched by his kindness and spent the next hour reminiscing the past month and talking about his future in China and Cambodia. Leung’s presence made the time fly by and all too soon I had my boarding pass in hand and I was waving him goodbye. Now that I think back on it, he looked utterly miserable when I left, but I was too excited to realize at the time.

As I flew to Bangkok, I wanted nothing more than to share my experiences with someone else. I wanted to voice everything that had occurred in the past 2 months, the changes I have noticed within myself, and my expectations of the next month. I turned to the person next to me, who was a westerner, and asked the usual conversational questions. After a while, we began to discuss what brought us to Thailand. I gave a brief overview of my travels, hoping to expel some of my experiences, and she seemed politely interested at first. She asked a few questions and I eagerly gave details, but after about 5-10 minutes on the subject, she switched the conversation abruptly. She didn’t contribute to what I was saying and she didn’t seem as interested in my travels as I had expected. I pondered this while she rambled on about her studies in business in Alabama and her mother’s treatment for a staph infection, which is what brought her to Thailand (I say ‘rambled’ because business doesn’t particularly interest me and a staph infection is not typically serious). Then I remembered something that Erik had once said to me on one of the first days I was in New Zealand. “When you go home, don’t expect your friends to hang on your every word as describe your travels. They probably have nothing to compare it to, so they won’t understand what this has meant to you.”

At first, that meant nothing to me, because I had barely begun my experiences. But now I fully appreciate his words. I could have sat with that woman and given her every detail over the past 2 months and explained every emotion that I had felt. Yet, she wouldn’t have been able to imagine everything I have gained. Even now, when I write at least a page a day, I can’t explain to you the difference between how I was 2 months ago and how I am now.

This wonderful realization, it was wonderful because I knew this trip was beyond anything I could have hoped for, kept me thinking until I had landed, and the happiness did not die within me when I stopped pondering it. I continued to my connecting flight to Chiang Mai, though I couldn’t resist stopping at a Burger King on the way there. Then, an hour later, I was whisked away to Chiang Mai, though I had barely time to finish a chapter in my Lord of the Rings book before I landed, yet again, 1 hour later.

I picked up my baggage went out to meet the Rustic Pathways staff who would take me to the orphanage. When I didn’t see them, I planted myself down on the ground and waited, blissfully content as I read my book. 30 minutes passed before two small, muscular Thai men approached me and asked if I was Jimmy Mack. When I said “Yes.” they immediately began apologizing profusely that traffic had held them up, which caused them to be late. This reminded me of when I had met Leung and I immediately knew I would be friends with both these guys. They introduced themselves as Bay and Chaichai and hauled my luggage towards their van, just as Leung had this morning, and just like Leung, they refused to let me carry my bags.

Both of these guys spoke reasonably good English and it wasn’t hard to have a conversation with either of them, though it took longer than normal because I needed to pronounce my words with care. I soon learned that Chaichai is an orphan of 19 years old who is staying in Chiang Mai for the week to study website developing. Bay is 24 and has worked with Rustic for 5 years now. Bay constantly asked me if I was hungry, but since I had already eaten, I politely refused his offer each and every time. Bay also told me that we would be staying at the Rustic base in Chiang Mai because the orphanage is over a 3 hour drive. I was fine with this and we soon arrived at the one room building that was the base house. Bay and Chaichai could probably tell that I was exhausted because they said goodnight after showing me inside and went to grab some dinner. Without bothering to undress, I lay on the one bed and, I’m guessing, fell asleep instantly.

Too Eager for the Future to Enjoy the Present

March 30. Today felt as if I hadn’t lost a single person in my group. We started out with 5 members, and we were ending with 5 members (Dane, Adam, and Dane’s girlfriend who joined us this morning). There were still plenty of people to talk to and plenty of experiences to be shared. The prospect of only having to stay in China for another day was probably a factor that kept my spirits high as well. Don’t get me wrong, I have enjoyed every moment in China, from my tedious classes to my Kong Fu lessons at the Buddhist temple. The one drawback is that I have been stuck in the city for the past month. The occasional scenes of wilderness and mountain ranges don’t quell my longing to see and enjoy vast, open country sides and lush forests that are so abundant in China.

So my eagerness to set out for the wilderness of Thailand consumed most of my thoughts today. Even when I climbed a 5-10B route, for the first time, I could not keep my mind off what lay ahead of me in the coming month. I spent most of the day talking to Leung who, with each passing moment, became sulkier. I suspected that he was starting to get lonely and was dreading the goodbye and my suspicions were confirmed when I asked him why he was standoffish today. He said “You and me are best pals man! Saying goodbye will suck… How about I visit you in America?” I grinned at him and said “That would be A.O.K. Leung.”

The rest of the day was spent out in Kunming. I used most of this time to buy various items that I will need for Thailand. It was with ill-disguised cheeriness that Leung agreed to help me with this venture. Then I came back to the hotel and began to type up a post (I’m sure you’ve noticed that I am behind a few days). Leung decided to go out with his friends in Kunming and I was left with my thoughts about Thailand, my reflections on the past month, and my computer.

A Few Unfortunate Events

March 28 & 29. The schedule for the next 3 days consisted of nothing but climbing the sides of enormous mountains until our fingers were blistered and our feet were raw from our cramped shoes. We met Adam and Dane on the morning of the 28^th outside Sunny Lodge. Adam pulled up in his small Nissan and the idea that he would fit 5 people and our luggage into the car. None of us were looking forward to the 4 hour drive to Kunming. As we shoved our bodies, bags, and sulky attitudes into the car, we noticed a slight dip in the level of the car. When I turned to look out the window I noticed the back right tire was completely flat. That was the first sign that this would be a good day.

We spent nearly an hour trying to change the tire, but it turned out to be the most inconvenient tire in existence, because we couldn’t pull it off the car after we had unscrewed it. In the end, Adam took it to a shop, leaving us on the curb for the next hour and a half. Some of the things a bunch of guys talk about while sitting on a curb are absurd and hilarious. I’m not saying it was profane, but it was entertaining.

We ended up walking to the shop anyway and, with a new tire, drove for the next few hours to Kunming, a journey that surpassed my uncomfortable expectations. I tried to doze off during the day, but was constantly awoken by a jerk of the car as Adam weaved through traffic, which how most Chinese citizens drive. 4 hours later we arrived in Kunming, but our day of misfortune was not yet over. As Adam pulled into a parking spot he slammed right into a car approaching from his rear. The other driver stormed out of his car, livid, and started shouting at Adam. Adam shouted back in a similar manner and they both began to compare the damage of their cars, which turned out to be nonexistent. Both cars were unscratched, but that did not deter the other driver from yelling at Adam and forcing him to stay put while he called the police. Not wanting to get involved, Erik, David, and I went into the restaurant where we planned to meet Leung.

An hour later, Adam arrived in the restaurant explaining that all the other driver wanted was money from a foreigner. The police saw how ludicrous the situation was at once, and sped on their way, but not before the other driver became desperate enough to yank off part of his own front bumper in an attempt to display any sign of damage to the car. Yet another fine example of local Chinese citizens trying to take advantage of tourists.

The next day proved to be a slightly better day, but not by much. We planned to rock climb one last time before David and Erik left for Tanzania (they are leaving earlier than expected and I will be left with Leung until the 31^st). We traveled to a ravine with great climbing routes, and I tried my hand at climbing a 5-10A, which supposedly was long thought to the extent of the human limit of rock climbing before someone proved that humans could climb more challenging routes. I didn’t break once. However, my hands were utterly useless afterwards and I didn’t dare climb again because I still had one more day to enjoy.

We ate dinner in Kunming again, but this time we ate locally, for it was David and Erik’s last Chinese meal before Tanzania. We ate greasy potato pancakes, smelly tofu (which is its real name), and soggy vegetables with rice. Afterwards, Erik had time to hang out in our hotel before setting out to the airport. During this time we reminisced about our last 2 months together. We had not done this in a long time and it brought back wondrous memories, as well as a lump as sadness. I said goodbye to David and Erik after an hour of chatting, but I was too exhausted to feel that this was really goodbye. I had become close to Erik, but I doubt I will miss him too much in my next month. We didn’t have too much in common, although he was a great friend and an impeccable story teller. David, I will see again, because he lives an hour away from my home town. Quite convenient, don’t you think? So, without the heavy weight of loss in my heart, which had haunted me almost exactly 1 month ago, I fell into a peaceful sleep that night.

Thanks so much to everybody who has been posting comments on my blog. I have heard from a few followers that it is difficult to post comments due to Blogger’s settings and I apologize for this inconvenience. I hope you are still enjoying keeping up to date with my travels as much as I enjoy experiencing them. I also posted new pictures to my Picasa album. Hope you enjoy them as well!

Climb Dali

March 26 & 27. Now I’m starting to enjoy the continuous activities being planned for these last 2 weeks, which was what I had become accustomed to last month. We met with Adam and Dane, our rock climbing guides, at Adam’s house in Dali. It was only a 10 minute walk from Sunny Lodge, but after dragging a luggage bag packed with 4 months of clothing and materials through cramped, windy streets, I would consider it more of a hike. 

Adam, who lives in Dali with his wife and son, owns a rock climbing company called “Climb Dali”. Dane agreed to accompany him on this trip, although he doesn’t usually work for Adam. Both being expert and enthusiastic climbers, they wasted no time in fitting us with climbing shoes as soon as we arrived. Then we picked up some provisions for lunch (mostly peanut butter and bread) and packed into a taxi van.

The ride was only an hour long to Saoang and we were soon setting down our things in the hostel that we would be staying in tonight. Adam led the away from the hostel, trekking from the streets of Saoang to the trails on the surrounding mountain. As the bright, blood colored dirt was kicked up into my face, I turned my head and studied the surroundings. The trees had been replaced by rough, desert bush and cacti and instead of locals staring curiously at my pale figure, cows were munching on grass as their bells rattled against their hides. This mountain was significantly different from the mountain I had climbed in Dali, almost an exact opposite.

When we finally reached the ridge we would be climbing, Adam and Dane laid down the supplies and handed us harnesses. As we slid them and our climbing shoes on, Adam and Dane climbed the first ride to set up the anchors for the climb. The first one was extremely easy for Adam, who had not only climbed it almost 150 times, but had discovered and cleaned the route as well. He stated it was a good warm-up run, which was lucky for me because I hadn’t done any serious climbing since I was around 12 or 13. In fact, Adam told me, with an air of modesty and pride, that he had discovered and cleaned the entire ridge, totaling in about 50 routes.

So I was the first to climb the beginner route, but I found that it wasn’t difficult at all. It was more or less like climbing an indoor rock climbing wall and the climbing shoes made it that much easier. Their rubber traction allowed me to place my foot on the tiniest holds and stand their comfortably. While Erik belayed me, Dane and Adam set up a couple more routes for us. They all turned out to be relatively easy, but they were progressively more difficult. Some had a few difficult holds and others had ridges that you needed to climb up at a 150 degree angle, but there were several rest spots. When I repelled down on my last climb, I noticed that my knees were cut in several places and my fingers were numb with pain. I hadn’t even noticed my discomfort during the concentration of my 5 climbs.

We took a break after that, intent on eating our fill of peanut butter, bread, and apples. During this lazy period, I watched Adam climb a 5-11a route with awe (Dane described the grading system to me during our hike up the mountain). He placed his hands such unlikely holds and continuously lodged his feet in the smallest of cracks and juts. At one point he was almost directly upside down, climbing with all his strength and skill. As I watched him put one leg over another, I spotted a hold that looked dangerously crumbly. I was just about to warn him not to grab onto it when he lunged out and grasped the hold. It immediately shattered in an explosion of red rock and Adam fell towards the earth. Dane’s reflexes and superior experience was the only thing that saved Adam from death. He bounced literally 6 inches from the ground, but, thankfully, never made contact. Adam tried this route again, and when he finally reached the top, he came up with an appropriate name for the route: 6 inches from 6 feet under. That, I thought, clearly stated just how dangerous climbing can be. After all our fingers were nearly bleeding with the pain of climbing, we headed back down to the village for a dinner readily prepared at the hostel, a warm, welcoming shower, a wooden bed, and a roommate who snored relentlessly through the night.

The next day was one that I was not looking forward to. Although we did enjoy a kayaking adventure that occupied most of the morning, Christen left in the afternoon and the only other enjoyable part of the day was when I made the most of my last night in Dali. We went kayaking in groups of 3s and didn’t finish until noon. By far, the funniest part of the day was Leung teetering into his kayak (which he had never done before) until he sat, became situated by shifting his forcibly weight, and made the kayak flip completely upside down, which left him struggling under water. Thankfully, he was a capable swimmer and came up sputtering and shivering. He refused to continue after that.

Our car ride back to Dali wasn’t fun. We crammed into the largest van ­­­­­­­Saoang could provide, and even that was too small to occupy 7 people, 5 bags of luggage, and 7 backpacks. My afternoon in Dali was spent walking around with David and Christen, just making the most of the time left before we all parted our separate ways. All too soon, Christen was saying her goodbyes and I was telling her that I would see her back home. Leung took her to Kunming, which left Erik, David, and I to fend for ourselves for the next 24 hours.

We ate beef steaks at Café De Jack, ordering our favorite meal at our favorite western restaurant. Then we came back to Sunny Lodge, where Erik was forced to organize our receipts for the last month. Wanting to spend my time doing something, and because the prospect of doing nothing was unbearable, I suggested to David that we meet up with a few of the people we had met earlier at the Café. Probably because he was too exhausted, or because he was pondering his next month in Tanzania, David refused to accompany me. That didn’t deter me from going out however. I took a taxi to the café, which took longer than I thought because it is extremely difficult to use proper mandarin (all provinces have their own versions of mandarin) to explain where you are trying to go.

I arrived and hung out with everybody until most were forced to say goodnight due to their studies tomorrow morning. All except Amanda and me were left. She is 18 and doesn’t have a curfew, so we went out to Dali and spent the most of the night talking and playing pool at the Sunny Lodge. When Amanda finally said she had to leave, I walked back to the room, but found that it was empty. I peered through the window of my room and saw David and Erik dancing in the bar of the Sunny Lodge. Smiling to myself, and half wishing I was 18 so I could join them, I slipped into bed and fell asleep, probably with that same silly grin spread on my face.