April 2006 Archives

i've been remembering a lot lately. i lean my head against the mini-van window and recall how it felt to say goodbye to susie, gail and fil seven years ago in port blair. how we had all taken the dusk ferry from havelock and found a completely grungy room with extra spiders and two beds and somehow got comfortable. how when i woke up i had to grab my pack and say goodbye to them, feeling like i'd never see the tropical jungle again. like i'd never eat another ball of peanut toffee. never wake up to susie guffawing as a litter of puppies power-licked her face. i felt like i was being cauterized.

i've seen gail again since then, in australia where she lived with a painfully single woman who collected fairy sculptures and who went pram shopping just in case. i've seen susie twice since then. once in vancouver after she and her beau patrick finished busking across alaska and once last night.

we got off the bus here in pai and declared ourselves done with buses. from now on, it's the jetsetter's life for us. not so rough as plane fares cost about $25 around here and everywhere is looking more and more the same anyway. you want a bagel and cappucino? you want good cell reception? you want george clooney? don't sweat. it's all right there. or right there. or right here. it's all everywhere.

so i remember with minor trembling the places where those things weren't. the places that made me detox and do without.

i remember when i met susie and gail.

i remember the smoke pouring into the windows as the zanzibaris burnt coral for lime. the man who falls to the road in front of our car as his neighbors look on. is he hurt? is he dangerous? the sun is so high and the road so black. we are so far away as we watch afraid and ashamed in the rear view mirror. will he get up? will they help him?

i remember cursing at the boatman, tacking slow up the nile as he tries to extract another handful of pounds from us. rob almost pushes him in as we supply a chours of supportive cursing. it is a shame that we haven't the correct change and have to give the scoundrel what he wants anyway.

i remember the wind off the canal in dubai and the calls of the gold hawkers. i remember dawn in nairobi and the cup of tea in the sweaty cafe, full of green light. i can feel the soles of my feet burn as i quick step up the flagstones to see the buddha of polanawura. i can sit on our porch watching the river course through pai and remember.

i was here seven years ago. everything has changed including me.

this is not really a blogpost.

it's just a blip in your day to say:

1) dangerdonkey has posted some photos of our visit together in laos and you could check them out. there are some especially bad ones of me over which you can chortle and guffaw.

2) after a long pointless delay i have signed up for skype. this, as if you didn't know, is the love child between internet telephony and instant messenging. basically you get a free account (FREE!) and can "chat" -- live computer to computer phone conversation -- with other skype users for free (FREE!). there is also some stuff about calling real phones but i don't have a real phone so i didn't read that crap. if you are so inclined, you could get a headset connected to your computer and sign up for skype and then wait patiently for me to log on, which should happen every two weeks or so. happy hunting!

my skype user name is, duh, TROUBLONIA.

3) the guy leaning on me last night on the bus had a really gross wet snore. for tweleve hours.

4) smooch!

it's been a typical few days. i've been drenched to the bone, covered in flour, charcoal and lipstick, and i got macked by a tranny wearing a sadaam hussein mask.

it's Pee Mai Lao.

that's new years laos style. no stupid dick clark. no dropping balls. no awkward midnight kiss. instead, it's a country-wide water fight. and it's insane.

we've been kicking back in luang phrabang with anne and alex. we eat the sticky rice. we stroll the watts. we jump in the waterfall. we sleep the late. it's A-okay.

we're both pretty tired of dragging our buttocks around the world at this point. we have definitely proceded into travel stage two. do i see the attractions? no. do i brave tortuous journeys to glimpse the foreign dawn? no.

'cause at this point i'm kinda feeling like: the world? seen it.

not that i have but i think maybe i've seen enough to not feel pressured to see more.

i'm excited to be someplace like new zealand where i can unpack my bag for a while, get a phone number and settle back into normal troublonia-style life. writing. coffee drinking. friend making.

maybe even, uh, earning some money?

i've had a few business ideas lately. business-of-my-own ideas. one involves a year-abroad program to teach american students about how the world sees them. one involves a one-stop backpacker's supply site. one involves the lottery.

it's strange to be back in laos after seven years. i felt like an older traveler last time i was here and i'm not sure what that makes me now. the country has taken a major step towards modernization since '99. the roads are paved. the currency comes in denominations worth more than a dollar. the internet has arrived and so have the package tourists on direct flights. is it good? is it bad? i guess so.

things change. i've changed.

i'm all wet.

'cause it's Pee Mai Lao! and i really can't exaggerate how awrsome this holiday is. i highly encourage you to have a country-wide water fight. go splash grandma. go splash the cab driver. go chase a bunch of kids around the block with buckets of water. build a stupa on the mekong beach and dance the wiggle with the locals. drink some beer, throw more water, let them smear you with powders that may or may not come off. then throw more water and squeeze out your underpants.

i would, however, let a tranny wearing a sadaam hussein mask freak you at your own risk.

1:

the other night i met a guy named Jules. he was a helicopter pilot in the Territorial Army in North Ireland. shot down by the IRA. the crew of SAS with him, all killed. "they set the dogs on me," he whispers. "i talked."

he holds no grudge now but he won't go back to the UK. lives in Thailand, divorced, a kid on the way.
"i think it's a boy." he laughs and buys us a round.

i notice his elephant tattoo. we discuss religion. he's buddhist/moslem/christian/hindu. i tell him about being jewish and he wants to know more. we talk about where we are, where we could go.

and then we discover it.

we were born on the exact same day, same year. it's so strange to see him and feel what? my doppleganger? my brother? an out of focus reflection? we hug. i could have been him and he could have been me.

2:

something is wonky with my camera but i think these shots from Jordan and Sri Lanka are lovely anyway.

take a gander, eh?

there are many many things i could tell you about sri lanka. many.

i could talk about the way 4' monitor lizards run when you try to grab their tails. i could get misty about waking to the pre-dawn sound of monks giving it up for the buddha's tooth. i could mumble about the lurching train and the men who hang from its doorways, reaching out to pluck flowers as they pass. i might mention the howling of nighttime dogs, the way thunder claps in a hillside cave filled with golden statues, or the size of the breasts on the full color coquettes painted 1500 years ago half way up the protrubing thumb of stone that is sigiriya fortress.

large, they are. and unaffected by gravity.

i could say many things about our three weeks in serendib. in ceylon. in sri lanka. but i don't want to. we loved it there. the way the place felt to us. how it was to be on the beach or around the lake or atop the hill, surrounded by the smell of tea. we actually had planned to stay for another ten days but this pesky war thing has negatively affected the tourist industry for some reason. and i just feel hesitant to explain it. the way it all felt. perhaps it's the lack of sleep or a certain preciousness to the memories. i'll just leave it as: go there yourself. and the getting was good so we got.

to bangkok.

from here we probably will get to visit with anne and alex in laos and maybe also with susie the pixie. before brother lump deposits himself in mystery city x (it's a surprise!) for birthday tortures we've planned to make him miss new york. and before we shrug and check the bank balance and shrug and say,

"dunno. is it time to go to australia?"

because dunno. might be time to go to australia. in a few more months.