The Best of Thailand: Part 3

April 2-9 part 3. Here is the last addition to the list of experiences that I have had during my first week of the orphanage in Thailand. I will start off with a less recent discovery of mine, how I can phenomenally budget my money, but only in Thailand. The other day I rode my bike to 7-11 and purchased body wash, 3 packs of gum, candy, water, chocolate milk, shampoo, toothpaste, and a new razor. It wasn’t the items that made this purchase so astonishing. It was the price. That list of items cost me 200 baht (6 American dollars). I couldn’t believe it when the cashier rung my price up and I checked the receipt to make sure, but he was right.

My next experience with budgeting was when I was able to buy the entire orphanage, 25 people, ice cream for 250 baht (8 dollars). I was astonished, but it wasn’t over yet. That night, I took the entire staff (10 people) out to an all-you-can-eat barbeque, but it wasn’t a barbeque that you or I would think of. It was more along the lines of fondue. Each table was equipped with a large metal bowl. The center of the bowl was comprised of a single hill of metal, which you could cook meat on. Surrounding the hill was boiling water where you dipped vegetables and certain meats into. There were also several other dishes to choose from, including noodles, ice-cream, fried rice, salad, and Thai desserts. When the bill came, I was again astonished. It cost 750 baht (25 dollars) to feed 11 people.

That night, Doe, Goe, Bowjoe, Samat, and I went out to see a local concert. It was made up of mostly a bunch of guys sitting around and watching young Thai girls’ belly dance and sing. Doe, Goe, and I, however, took up the mantle to start dancing. It wasn’t long before one the girl who was singing spotted me and pulled me up on stage, where I started dancing with six Thai girls in front of a few hundred people. I’d say that’s a pretty great end to a great night.

I forget what day it was, but I recently went to a Thai funeral. I didn’t know the person who had passed away, but P.A. did so she decided to bring me along just for the experience. Thai funerals are the complete opposite of American funerals, or at least this one was. The family celebrated the death of their grandmother by giving away tons of food, dancing everywhere, and praising her name as they toasted to her long and fruitful life. When I arrived, I was welcomed as if I was a family member as well. One of the members led me over to her coffin, where I bowed in respect and lit an incense candle. Then they hugged me and lathered me with food and attention. I’ve never heard of a funeral party, but I suspect that’s the closest I will get to experiencing one.

My weekend was packed with animal brutality. I witnessed a chicken fight one day with Bowjoe. I spent 4 hours there, most of which were spent waiting for chicken owners to compare chickens and agree to a match. Then I saw the chickens fight nearly to the death. Everyone was screaming at each other to change their bets or up them, and it was a scene of such infectious chaos that I was soon screaming for no reason at all. After the first round, which lasted 20 minutes, the chickens were picked up and mopped up. There was plenty of blood around their heads, and after witnessing one round I didn’t need to stick around for 7 more.

The next day the orphanage celebrated the New Year with slaughtering their pig. This was a depressing experience, but one I witnessed all the less, so I will state this shortly and to the point. While the pig was drinking, one of the orphans brutally swung an enormous club at its head. The helpless pig let out one shrill squeal and the fell the ground. It wasn’t yet dead, so another kid stuck a knife in its heart. It’s an extremely difficult thing to watch a helpless pig thrash on the ground while a knife has impaled it, but soon the pig was dead. Bowjoe washed it down and, with three others, dragged the pig onto a metal grate. They then poured boiling water over its hide and skinned it with nothing more than ordinary kitchen spoons. When the animal was finally nothing but bare flesh, I had to turn away. I left for 2 reasons: 1) I needed to teach an English class that morning 2) I couldn’t stand to keep staring at that skinless pig.

So that’s my first 9 days at the orphanage. I hope you enjoyed them, because I sure did. I’m just about to fall asleep, because my body, my emotions, my adrenaline, and my stamina are at the breaking point (just as they are everyday). I just pulled a foot long lizard out from under my covers, but that surprisingly didn’t faze me as much as it should have. Bugs and lizards have just become part of my normal life, in normal Thailand, on my normal trip.

The Best of Thailand: Part 2

April 2-9. So without any ado whatsoever, I will begin where I left off from my last post. On my fifth day here, the whole lot of the kids and I went down to the river, which is about a kilometer from the orphanage. The water was only deep enough for our knees to be submerged, but we lay on our backs and drifted lazily down the river, splashing each other and wrestling as we went. The water was warm and pleasant and provided us with a sanctuary from the sun’s blistering heat. I forgot to mention that it gets to upwards of 100 degrees when the sun reaches its zenith and lingers around 90 degrees all day.

I have also learned a few new skills while I’ve been here. Not only do I teach the children English, but they teach me several things as well. A muay thai teacher comes on Fridays and Saturdays in order to teach the children self-defense. I jumped in on those lessons immediately. Since I had just come from Kong Fu lessons in China, it only took me an afternoon to catch up with the rest of the class. Muay thai, however, is much different than Kong Fu. Kong Fu is meant to maintain balance and can be used for competitive fighting. Muay Thai focuses on actually being able to “kick someone’s ass” and one of its main uses is for UFC fights.

Wiwat teaches me guitar almost every day. I had a basis in it already and could strum a few tunes out, but he has taught me a couple finer points and focuses more on switching from different cords rather than teaching me to play songs. A few of the girls also agreed to teach me some Thai, although the process is fairly slow. Not surprisingly, it’s hard to switch from learning Chinese to Thai in such a short span of time. Another useful trick, which Sawan taught me, is husking a coconut using a machete. It took a couple coconuts and almost cost me a couple fingers, but now I can do it swiftly and accurately.

With teaching lessons regularly and being taught new things regularly, it’s hard to find time to get out and explore the surrounding area. I have, however, seized every available opportunity to do just that. Bay and I rented bikes out in town one day and have since been using them avidly. He brought me to the market one day, where you could buy anything from car supplies to lingerie for all under 200 bat (6 American dollars). It’s was so incredibly inexpensive that I felt like getting anything I had the slightest inclination to buy, but then I reasoned that it would be hard to send 3 super soakers, 20 t-shirts, a few shoes, and a new T.V. back to the States.

Bay also took me to see a museum in town, where I learned about the history of the Karen tribe and their Buddhist traditions. From there we traveled to a temple, atop the highest point overlooking the town of Maesareang. An enormous golden Buddha stood atop the hill, which could be seen from almost anywhere in town.

Before the day was over, Bay took me to a forest not too far from the orphanage. There were a few things about these particular woods that I hated. Firstly, the way the branches overhung and overlapped blocked out the sun, plunging the forest into a permanent darkness. Secondly, the ground was nothing but mud, even in the hot season, which made walking with flip-flops pretty frustrating. And lastly, millions of cicadas were chirping on their trees. The overhanging branches seemed to isolate the sound, making it so loud that I could barely hear the squelching of my flip-flops as they were dragged out of the mud.

Bay brought with him a net, which I thought was odd, until he started to snatch up the cicadas, one by one. He tossed me the net and I had a go at it as well, but just like everything else he had done, he made it look easier than it actually was. When we finally had around 200 cicadas in a large plastic bag, we rode back to the orphanage, now accompanied by the chirping sound I had begun to despise. I didn’t think much of it when he gave the bag to Tim and he took it away towards the boy’s dormitory. I knew Thai people ate cicadas, but I never knew I would be trying one as well.

When everyone sat down for dinner that night, they brought the large bowl of cicadas, along with the dinner I had made earlier for myself. Bay popped a couple of cicadas into his mouth immediately, which didn’t repulse me until he offered one for me to eat. Yet, like all the other times I was faced with a difficult challenge, I said to myself “I didn’t travel all this way for nothing.” I pulled off the wings and legs, just as Bay had, and munched down on a cicada. It was like nothing I had tasted before. It was crunchy and bitter, and I’m positive I will never eat one again, willingly that is.

So that’s the end of part 2, and just as I said there might be, I am going to be posting a part 3 by tomorrow. 2 things have happened recently that need to be added to the list, and I assure you that they are pretty entertaining, as well as disturbing for some people. Again, thanks for reading everyone!

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.