Stubborn & Hell-Bent

New Journal ... Again

heidischeifley — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 07:37:00 GMT

same journal new link...

http://remaining-undefined.blogspot.com/

New Adventure, New Journal

heidischeifley — Wed, 8 Oct 2008 13:07:00 GMT

I managed to wander my way around this world and come back in one, unbroken piece, but i can't seem to figure out how to post photos within my entries on this website so, for now, i've switched to a new journal that appears to be geared towards the simpler-minded folks such as myself;)

http://stubborn-hellbent.blogspot.com/

Parting the Red Sea

heidischeifley — Sat, 1 Mar 2008 23:27:00 GMT

If you’ll recall the last entry, I worried about my lack of knowledge when it came to Egypt – and everything related to it. Well, I think for once my worrying was justified. Along comes my familiar friend Ignorance. Ignorant assumption Number 1: Egypt is set amongst the desert, therefore it will be hot. The plane lands in Cairo after a 10 hour flight from Bangkok. I notice the Thai woman beside me getting her bags from the overhead compartment and putting on a long winter jacket. What is with the Thai people, they are always bundled in the heat, for God’s sake woman this is Egypt! I grab my bags and walk out of the plane, only to be blasted with pelting rain and freezing wind. This has got to be some sort of fluke, there’s no way it’s this cold here. Turns out, it’s no fluke. Turns out, it’s best to research a country before you blindly fly there with a wardrobe of sundresses and bathing suits. After a series of arguments with taxi drivers, I made my way to a bus station in Cairo, where I am informed that the bus I need won’t be leaving for another 8 hours. I purchase my ticket and begin wrapping myself in every towel and sarong I own and make myself comfortable on the bench of the outside bus station. Time passes slowly with strange encounters to break the monotony of the mantra that is running through my head … “I am not freezing cold. I am not drenched from the rain. I am not disturbed by the fact that I haven’t seen one woman the entire time I’ve been here. This is not a repeat of my Malaysian experience ...” I finally did meet one woman – about 65 years old – who came up to me and smiled, rambled in Arabic, kissed me on the cheek, and walked away. Maybe I made her happy by adopting the local dress of Egyptian women, little did she know it was everything I owned. The day was not complete without a full-blown argument with a man who tried to charge me an exorbitant amount of money to use the toilet that so nicely backfired on me and shot streams of water out of the bowl onto my already freezing and drenched clothes. Oh Egypt how do I love thee, let me count the ways. The bus ride to Sinai was 10 hours through the desert, with multiple check points along the way. A soldier boards the bus and checks every single person’s passport – this happened 10 times in this journey. Finally I arrived in Dahab in the middle of the night. My lack of knowledge on the Egyptian culture and climate could easily be remedied after spending some time hanging out with Liz and experiencing the Arab lifestyle. Only problem was, I had no idea where she was. She sent an email saying, “come to Dahab!!”. So, being the good person that I am, I do what I’m told. I book my flight and send her an email. Then I don’t here back from her and I begin to wonder if she got my email, if she’s still in Egypt, if she moved somewhere else in Egypt, if it was a joke when she told me to come out. I keep checking my email before I leave Thailand but to no avail. So here I am in Dahab, Egypt – with really no idea why I’m here! Before leaving Thailand I looked up hotels in Dahab as a back up in case I didn’t find Liz. I could only remember the name of one place, so I drag my tired, wet, and harassed self to this hotel and figure I’ll spend the next day trying to find Liz. I check into the last room available and as the man is walking me to my room I tell him I’m looking for my friend, she works at a dive shop somewhere in Dahab and she’s American. “Oh! Elizabess! (lacking the ability to pronounce the “th”) of course! She stays here, right beside your room!” If there was ever any question of the connection that liz and I have, this settled it. Of all the places to stay …

So here we’ve been for the past month, living in a pink apartment above a chicken restaurant, with a view of the Red Sea and Saudi Arabia from the bedroom, and the Sinai mountains from the living room. This culture has been the most challenging so far, very similar to Malaysia in ways, but living here gives it a different experience. I started working with liz at the dive shop, for a man who I am almost positive is a long lost brother to the Alles boys. Overall, my time here has been reflective. The cold weather and the Arab culture have kept me indoors for the much needed period of winter thinking. Daily excursions involved some strange experiences. A trip to the grocery store involves maneuvering around people kneeling and praying in the canned food aisle, walking down the street always presents offers of marriage – “please can I marry you, how many camels for you?”, and looking in a shop usually results in sitting amongst the clothing drinking hibiscus tea with the owner. I have learned to be quite resourceful with my limited amount of clothing. I came here, to an Arab country in the winter, with 1 pair of pants and 1 sweater. Because of this I really began to question my intelligence. If I didn’t have intelligence I damn well better find some creativity. So this is when skirts became scarves, dresses became skirts and tops, scarves became skirts, and hand-washing became a daily chore.

The desire to experience places like the locals do always results in me living in a place that most people only stop in for a few days. I arrive my first night, wake up in the morning and Liz and I think it’d be a great idea to get an apartment here. Why we have to do everything to the extreme I’m not sure, but it seems to be our joined way. Working, shopping, and living with the locals has been an incredible experience and has helped me to understand a culture that I knew so little about.

I have always had an aversion to the desert. There is something about it’s vast openness that leaves me with an undeniable conflicting feeling of claustrophobia. The sand storms and what appears to be any lack of life, leaves me feeling restless. With the desert behind me and the Red Sea at my doorstep, I have been able to appreciate the vastness of both and find a balance amongst the extremes. This area is still part of a Bedouin village and their presence in the streets always reminds me of the ancient history of this country. So much has happened here in the past, and you can see evidence of it in the movements of every local.

Over a month has gone by and I can still count the number of local women I’ve seen on one hand. Living within such a male-dominated society has given me strength that I never found in a culture of equality. Although I may be getting strength mixed up with what has probably just turned into a cold and bitchy exterior. I won’t deny the fact that hissing at men is something I have occasionally resorted to doing. But in all honesty, the strength and knowledge that can be found when you are forced to prove your worth, is truly invaluable for being an assertive and confidant person.

The rent on the apartment is up, and spring is bringing new winds of change. Time to move on. And here I sit again, with a pile of choices and no real answers. Wherever I decide to go next, you can be sure I will be consulting the weather report before departure.

An Egyptian breakfast on the water awaits, accompanied by 8 stray cats, 1 stray dog with a limp, 6 small girls relentlessly harassing me to buy bracelets, and every fly that is currently living at this moment.

From Roosters to Camels

heidischeifley — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 14:48:00 GMT

It became apparent that if I didn’t leave Lanta now, I may never end up leaving at all. So I tore myself away from the comforts of my home and made my way up to ko phangan. I got an email from my mom that said, “I hope you like it there, I heard it’s supposed to be paradise”. Hmmm. Well, I think further investigation into the definition of paradise is required, as it seems that one person’s paradise is another person’s hell. Ko Phangan is famous for its full moon parties. This is when about 10 thousand people gather on a small beach and have a party to end all parties. Luckily I was not there for a full moon, but that didn’t stop the chaos in paradise. The atmosphere can be summed up in one example. The beach is lined with vendors selling drinks, which are only available in bucket form (naturally), and to get everyone into the party mood there are games put on by the bars. Enter drunken idiots. Drinking games commence, which involves people drinking as much as they possibly can, as quickly as possible, and as far as I can see the purpose of the game was to be the first one to puke all over yourself. This wasn’t the end though. Next stage in the game involved skipping with a rope that has been lit on fire and then running and jumping through a flaming ring of fire. Being a bystander in all this has got to be one of the most amusing moments of my life. Sometimes you see people who make you shake your head and think that god couldn’t have created something more simple-minded. Then you see them jump through the ring of fire, only to fall on top of it and burn themselves. Then you really begin to question the evolutionary process of man. I do have to admit though, that I am so happy I experienced this, it’s just one of those things that you have to see to believe. After a few days of this I took a long tail boat to the real paradise of the island found at Bottle Beach. This is a little cove with perfect white sand and a bungalow right on the beach. When the boat pulled up to the beach I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Absolutely nothing. It felt as though I should be whispering as to not disturb any of the few people that were lying on the beach. Now this is paradise. I mastered the art of lying in a hammock and watching the waves, which only took about 5 days to accomplish. The only adventure I attempted was to climb through the jungle at a 45 degree angle to reach a viewpoint that looked over the small beach. I made it halfway there, jumping over snakes and being attacked by swarms of bugs. That didn’t stop me. What did however, was roosters. Stupid roosters. I swear they are single-handedly trying to ruin my travels! Halfway up this mountain there was what I can only assume was an orchard full of rooster trees. There is something extremely creepy about a tree full of roosters, it seems very unnatural. To make it even worse, the base of the tree was surrounded by vicious looking dogs. Whatever, I’m sure the view from the top was great, I can also buy the postcard from the store at the hotel.

Well once again my Thai visa is coming to an end. I found a way to get an extension by traveling back down to Malaysia. Not exactly how I care to spend a few days but I figured it’d be worth it. A friend I met was heading up to Bangkok to fly back to England and I figured I’d join him as flights from Bangkok to Malaysia are cheaper than taking the series of buses and ferries. Then I began to wonder, what the hell am I going to do in Thailand for another couple months? I have become a true expert in the art of doing nothing, where does one go from there? Maybe it’s time to move on. But where? Now this is the question I have been pondering for the past few weeks. While lying in the hammock on the beach I came to a beautiful and somewhat terrifying realization. At this point in time, in my life, I can go absolutely anywhere. I have no commitments and the freedom to do whatever I want. How often is that going to happen and for how long will that opportunity last? From what I can tell it’s life expectancy is determined by my bank account. With that amount of freedom comes a lot of stress and pressure. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? I considered coming back to Canada to work for a bit, but to be honest, it’s the winter weather that kept me away. I just can’t handle the thought of it! I looked into flights to Taiwan to see Julie and they were actually quite a lot cheaper than before, but the date I had to leave Thailand coincided with the dates that she is off work and heading out on holidays. Then as always, there is Liz. She’s more free than the wind and has been floating around the world for some time and has landed comfortably in Egypt. I asked a travel agent to look into flights to Egypt, there was only one left on the date I needed to leave Thailand. Ok, so Egypt it is. I know nothing about Egypt. My ignorance leads me to believe that I will be greeted by a line of camels waiting to take me to the pyramids. Yes this is honestly all I can conjure up on the topic of Egypt. Hopefully in a few days time I’ll be a little bit more enlightened. If the freedom I’ve been granted at this point in life leads me to be spit on by camels, I hope that that won’t be symbolic of life spitting in my face.

Scientific Proof

heidischeifley — Wed, 9 Jan 2008 15:15:00 GMT

Upon further investigation, I have come to the conclusion that analyzing evidence provides only speculation - while observation of actual concrete facts provides accurate proof.

Lost is the luxury of flipping through channels on TV in hopes of emptying the mind of thoughts to make room for a night of dreams. Instead I am entertained by the geckos and cockroaches which battle head to head for the trophy of largest mosquito. It was during the second round of the first match last night that I found a fault in my previous assumption. For the record, I would like to withdraw my statement that concluded the feces on my mosquito net were from that of a gecko. Further observation has proved otherwise and I can say with 100% certainty that the feces in question are from that of a cockroach.

From Princess to Pauper

heidischeifley — Sun, 6 Jan 2008 15:23:00 GMT

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. Sometimes, however, it is impossible to fully capture an image in one small frame, and I am therefore left to use those one thousand words to manifest this literary snapshot.

Picture if you will, the inside workings of a wall – plywood, 2x4’s, and jaggedly hammered nails. This is the construction of my current home in an attic somewhere in Thailand. I sleep soundly under a slanted tin roof, complete with holes large enough to let every rain drop fall gracefully onto my bright blue mosquito net, which incidentally provides the beautiful view of tiny piles of gecko feces.

A window has been formed, for no other reason than the fact that they ran out of plywood, which is only partially covered by a torn piece of printed fabric that is secured snuggly to one of the many partially hammered nails.

I have been granted the luxury of sleeping upon a brand new piece of foam that’s frilly blue ruffles and asian-influenced cartoon animal print quite nicely matches my fashionable mosquito net.

The luxury of the window allows for the undisturbed sound of the crashing waves – that is until I reminded, by the pulsing of the floor, that I am sleeping above a reggae bar whose rhythmic music and ganja-scented air lulls me to sleep every night.

The other large hole in my room, which I can only assume is meant to resemble a door, is fitted with a broken piece of plywood that is precisely 1-inch too big on each side. This door is responsible for occupying 10 minutes of my day every morning and 10 minutes every night as I try hopelessly to get in and out of my room. Now comes the million dollar question – If a door is exactly 1-inch too big on each said – making the opening and closing of said door nearly impossible – how is it that there are still gaping holes on either side of the door that are large enough to destroy any hopes of privacy?

Based on my experience here, I have come to the conclusion that there must not be a Thai word that is translatable into privacy. I make this assumption based on the fact that to get to my (cold) shower, I must walk directly through the hub of the bar. Once I make my way discretely into the shower I have to secure the door by the only means possible – a ragged piece of twine which is attached to the hole in the door that at one time was home to a doorknob – which then must be wound around the shower nozzle. Position is of the utmost importance due to the large hole in the door and (again) the gaps between the door and frame.

As I dip the plastic bucket into the bucket of water, to manually flush the toilet (a.k.a “hole in the ground) – I wash away any notion of ever being called a high-maintenance woman.

I describe this scene with endearment, as the simplistic beauty of this place has given me more comfort and happiness than any of the “princess suites” I have occupied thus far.

Now here you have a literary picture captured in less than a thousand words – 553 to be exact.

Merry Christmas!

heidischeifley — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 16:43:00 GMT

The traveling life has shifted into days based more on living rather than moving - which is why it's been difficult to update this journal! I left Malaysia and headed back up to Ko Lanta. I booked my room for one month and unpacked my bags, a glorious feeling i must admit!

I haven't been up to much, trying to learn some thai every day and helping out in the bar on the resort. The experience of this life here is hard to describe, days are filled with nothing yet so many experiences that i cannot even put into words. Yesterday was one of my favourite days so far. I headed up into the jungle to see my favourite little girl, her mother is English and her father Thai, I find myself hanging out with her for hours and not even knowing where the time has gone. She has graviously accepted my suggestion that she should be married to Ashton, but has insisted (in her 4-yr-old thai english accent) that if they are to married they must have a honeymoon, to Brazil nonetheless. Yesterday we were in their home, a simple bamboo hut in the jungle where we decorated a mini christmas tree and listened to christmas carols (her mother's attempt to hold on to the snow-filled christmas times of her youth!). The situation had me laughing - sounds of frosty the snowman drifting out of the missing walls of the home, past the monkeys and roosters, and deep into the depths of the jungle. After my day of hammocks and christmas trees i headed back to my guesthouse where i had dinner with my thai "family" - freshly caught mussels and fish and some of the most insanely spicy food i've ever eaten. Even though my mother probably nursed me with a bottle of tabasco sauce, nothing could prepare me for the heat of proper thai food. I can only assume that this was my initiation into becoming one of the locals - and i am happy to report i now have a stomach of steel.

Most of my days are spent hanging out with the thai people and watching the other travelers come and go. I have met some of the most amazing people since i have been here and it is always hard to see them leave. There's such beauty in the simplicity of travelers friendships. People are open when they are away from the confinement of their lives back home, judgements are dropped, discrimination is hard to find, and people become friends with people they may never consider talking to in their regular daily life. If only these mindsets could be maintained back in the "real world". But for now i am enjoying every day, always feeling a sense of contentment and happiness.

Christmas preparations are under way here, the family of the resort puts on a big celebration of food and games and presents. If i had to be away from family for christmas, i couldn't have found a better place to be to celebrate. I think this experience is confirming the fact that I am not a thriving backpacker. I love seeing different cultures and being able to experience new countries, but nothing compares to living in one place and feeling the sense of being an outsider fade away.

So Merry Christmas everyone! Dig yourselves out of the snow and enjoy the holiday celebrations, raise your glasses to the new year and instead of "cheers" try a little thai "chuk dee" - meaning good luck.

oh and just in case i haven't rubbed it in anyone's face yet - you are buried in snow and i am heading to the beach to lay in the hammock, drink out of a freshly fallen coconut, and swim in the most pristine waters - Merry Christmas:)

Malaysia - The Land of men and monkeys

heidischeifley — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 20:49:00 GMT

I was right in assuming that the blissful days of beaches and sunsets would become a fading memory once I arrived in Malaysia. I have learned something very important about traveling. It is an entirely subjective experience which cannot even be described to anyone else. This is vital information for anyone embarking out into the world, information that could make or break your experiences. When someone says, “oh you must go to “insert place”, it’s amazing!” or “whatever you do, don’t go to “insert place”, it is horrible!” – you will soon learn that their experience is only their own and yours will be entirely different. I have met some wonderful travelers so far in Malaysia and this point was made even cleared when we found out we had been in the exact same places, on the exact same days, and had completely different experiences and impressions. My entrance into Malaysia was the island of Panang, where I spent 20 hellish hours, wishing the entire time that I had never left Thailand. I met a few people while leaving the city and they had loved their stay in Panang – they even stayed in the same place as me! I left Thailand on a series of different buses and minivans which herded people across the border into Malaysia. At the border crossing I was introduced to my first experience of Malaysian culture. Our minivan was stopped after crossing into Malaysia by a group of security guards. They ordered everyone out of the van and started tearing apart the seats and insisting that the driver was hiding something somewhere within the van. Clearly there was nothing there yet they wouldn’t let us cross until the driver paid them off – something I saw far too often in my time here so far. The van dropped us off in the middle of some dodgy neighbourhood in Panang where I quickly went into the first guesthouse I saw. I checked into a room and asked the man where I could find a bank machine as I had no Malaysian currency to pay him. He answered me with laughter and shook his head. “Stupid girl, you can’t go out here at night, you’ll be beated and robbed before you get out the door.” Ok, lovely, thank you for your warm welcome. So I retreated to my room, or rather my 6 foot by 6 foot rat cage. The rooms were constructed with what I think was cardboard walls, just large enough to squeeze a tiny bed in between them. The bed touched each wall and when the man in the room beside me moved in his bed, it moved my bed as well. The next day I wandered the city trying to find my way off the island – getting different information from every travel agent I asked – “there’s no direct bus off the island you have to take a ferry” – “there’s no ferry off the island today, you have to take a direct bus” – “the only bus leaves at 9am”. In actuality, there was a bus that went directly to the mainland and onto my next destination, but it didn’t leave until 4pm so now I was stuck in this godforsaken city with my backpack for the entire day. The day was filled with enough harassment to make me want to scream. I consider myself to be an open-minded and patient person. I come into other cultures with the knowledge that they are different than my own and that I must respect that. I dress in ways as to not offend the local people, I carry myself in a way that will not be offensive, and I refrain from any anger or judgment on their customs. This is my obligation as a traveler. I am making the choice to enter into their country and to be a part of their culture. But I find myself struggling when the line between respecting their culture and respecting myself begins to blur. If any of the men back home would treat me the way I am treated here, I would happily respond to them with a baseball bat to their knees – yet I don’t think this is an appropriate response here. My strength in positive thought has been challenged every day since I’ve been in Malaysia, but I realized that I don’t have to be here, I don’t have to subject myself to these situations, so I’m heading back to Thailand.

Malaysia is a truly beautiful country and everyone I’ve met along the traveling road has had such amazing experiences here. I have as well, apart from most of the people I’ve encountered along the way. I spent a couple days in Cameron Highlands, which was truly breathtaking. The bus ride up took us up above the clouds during the sunset, with an awe-inspiring view of the valleys and jungle below. The weather was shockingly cold in these parts, nights were spent in sweaters and woolen blankets and freezing cold noses. From there I went to Kuala Lumpur where I got lost in their China Town and Little India and spent far too many hours wandering through the large shopping mall taking in the strange trends of Malaysian fashion. After getting my fill of city life I headed to the small island of Pangkor, where I battled monkeys and giant wild pigs on my walk in between the beach and the jungle. I shared my bungalow with a lovely Dutch girl I met in Cameron Highlands as well as a family of giant lizards. Pangkor did not offer any redemption on the male culture and my patience was beginning to wear thin. After spending so many days on buses and dealing with so much harassment, I could feel the loss of control in my irritation. On the ferry off the island I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming at the man beside me to stop staring at me in that way before I beat his face in. hahaha clearly it was time to leave the country before I ended up thrown in jail for knocking the entire male population unconscious. I did however meet one nice man who owned the only good restaurant on the island. After eating most of my meals there, he became a friendly and familiar face. On my last night on the island he asked me if anything bad had happened to me while I’d been in Malaysia. He said that he could see in the way that I carried myself that I had not had a positive experience so far. I told him about my dealings with the people and how I was sad to admit that my time in Malaysia really hadn’t been a good experience. He felt awful and apologized on behalf of his entire country. I know the people are good and the country is beautiful, all it takes is a few bad seeds to give a bad impression. What upset me the most is that my experience had left a mark on me, one that was visible to those around me. I used to be known as a very approachable person, and now I was informed that I am giving off an impression that was far from friendly.

I cannot stress enough the importance of subjectivity on the impression of a culture. I have met no one else that has had this impression of Malaysia and I know that this is not a fair judgment of their culture. We are all given experiences that are meant to strengthen us, to challenge us, and to help us experience life. My path in life is different than the next person, and because of this I am given different challenges to overcome that will help me continue moving forward. Being faced with these situations has shown me that I am strong enough to protect myself, smart enough to gauge situations for their safety, and just bitchy enough to get my point across even in a foreign language. So for me, I can’t see the negativity in this because it only reinforced my strength and allowed me to learn how to accept cultural differences while still maintaining my personal beliefs. I say all this with the reassurance that my safety is intact and I am on my way back to Thailand, where I am hoping to immerse myself into the culture I have grown to love so much. With a Thai language guide and the help of the local friends I have made, I hope to learn their language to help in my understanding of their way of life.

Along with learning that traveling is a subjective experience, I have also learned that it is the people you share your life with that leave the most important impression and impact on your experience. I have met some wonderful friends along the way, people I know I will have the pleasure of seeing in years to come. Lucy, the Dutch girl I have been traveling with since Cameron Highlands, has been the source of much laughter during my travels thru Malaysia. The language barrier makes for interesting conversations where we are on completely different topics and don’t realize this for some time. I’ve felt like a little girl at camp when we wake in the middle of the night to noises from the garbage can – only to start screaming when a huge lizard runs out from it and under our beds – which is always followed by long fits of uncontrollable laughter. Or when the brakes on our bikes start to fail while going down the hills on the road through the jungle and we are forced to wait on the side of the road for a taxi, all while trying to battle off the monkeys that try to climb into our bags – once again followed by screams and long fits of laughter. So I’ve learned the importance of people and the impressions they have on my life, the good and the bad and the ways in which they challenge me and help me to grow. I suppose this is just reaffirming the thoughts I made in one of my first entries – so maybe I’m not learning anything new, just confirming the things I’ve known all along! One thing I know for sure is that I’m heading back to the beaches of Thailand where I will be greeted with sun and smiles and will no longer have to pay to use the hole in the ground they call a toilet here.

Ko Lanta

heidischeifley — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 19:46:00 GMT

The strangest thing happened on the boat from Railay to Ko Lanta – I’m pretty sure I entered a black hole and fell into a time warp where the world stopped moving and all that has existed for 2 weeks are beautiful sunsets and lazy beach days. I planned on spending a couple days here but once I arrived I gave up all notions of leaving. I’m pretty sure I am becoming part of the furniture here, blending into the hammocks and becoming a fluid part of the waves. Ko Lanta brings a different taste of Thailand with it’s population being almost entirely Muslim, which creates a beautiful fusion of cultures and continues to boast the most wonderful people in the world. My days have blended into one, waking up for breakfast on the beach, a motorbike trip to somewhere on the island, a relaxing afternoon on the beach, coconut oil massage on the beach, dinner by candle light on the beach and meeting wonderful people every day (everything clearly based around the beach!). One would think I would be learning a lot about Thai and Muslim cultures, but what I’m actually learning most about is Swedish culture. I think it’s safe to say that Sweden is entirely empty at the moment as every single one of them has seemed to arrive here in Ko Lanta. Guess the word is out about the beauty and peacefulness of this island! Luckily for this island, Swedish people are proving to be a beautiful addition to culture here, always smiling and open to experiencing all that Thailand has to offer.

I tried my hand at yet another cooking class to learn the differences between northern and southern Thai cuisine. I chose the school based on their intriguing menu which included Barracuda in fresh red curry. The class was entertaining, with some amazing food, but barracuda will not be making an appearance on my dinner table back home! After learning how to cook the fish I realized that I wanted to go out and catch my own. So a few of us chartered a long tail fishing boat and headed out to the deep seas. Boat drivers and fishing equipment came included in our deal … the use of the word equipment is used quite loosely. A fistful of fishing line, a rusty old hook, and chopped up squid for bait – no pole, no reel, just a line digging into your skin with every pull of a fish. Luckily (I suppose) I didn’t catch anything too big. What I did reel in was greeted with screams from the Thai fisherman – “No No No, you no touch! Bad! Hurt! No touch!”. Ummm ok. Apparently my fish was evil, complete with spikes and probably full of some sort of poison gauging by their reaction. Every one else got to hold up their prized fish, get the successful photos and even grill it up once back on land – I was not so lucky as mine was removed from the lure and hidden beneath the planks on the boat. After that I gave up on the notion of fishing and just enjoyed life on the boat. We stopped at a remote beach where I got far too excited at the presence of cliffs that looked climbable – resulting in bleeding feet and hands – but the beauty was worth the pain. The day was gorgeous and couldn’t have been more perfect – which should have had me wary. Clouds started to roll in and a storm was building over the water. Our driver started to speed up the boat – “rain, wind” he says pointing to the black clouds in the distance. No worries, we were on our way back to shore … until the motor made a huge bang, sputtered, and died. Nothing beats being stranded at sea with a storm brewing beside you. We may have been on an old-style fishing boat but our driver came prepared with the modern technology of a cell phone – so why worry help is on the way! 2 hours later our rescue boat arrived. Once again I use a word loosely as the source of rescue more closely resembled a hollowed out coconut shell than a boat. We bounced thru the waves in our little wooden raft and made it to shore safe and sound, ending our day with a bbq of our fresh catches, mine naturally was being destroyed somewhere to ensure the safety of the planet.

I was shook out of my time warp here when people began assuming that I was part of the staff – apparently it’s just about time to leave! I’m attempting to make my way down into Malaysia tomorrow to a place called Cameron Highlands, I believe I am about to embark on a series of boats and trains and buses which will make these lazy beach days seem like a fading dream of paradise…

a few more photos updated on flickr

The Evolution of the Monkey

heidischeifley — Mon, 5 Nov 2007 14:50:00 GMT

There are few times in life when i am able to be 100% in the moment. I always get so fed up during a yoga or meditation class when they tell you to concentrate on your breathing and think of nothing - there's far too many things to think about to do that, especially when they have me contorted into uncomfortable positions. The only thing I have found that allows me to be present in the current moment, where nothing else can possibly enter my mind, is cooking. It is my form of meditation, a time when i am completely absorbed in what i am doing and incapable of negative thoughts or worries. I am happy to say that I have found yet another form of "meditation" in rock climbing. When you're clinging to a rock 100 feet above the ground, it's really hard to not be in the moment! I managed to get in about 7 climbs yesterday, scaling the limestone cliffs above the ocean, with views that would have taken my breath away (had the climb up there not managed that all on it's own). The locals that climbed with me were absolutely amazing, encouraging me so much that there was no way i couldn't make it to the top, and feeding me so many bananas as they insisted that "you eat like monkey, you climb like monkey". Krabie has this strange vibe, a black hole phenomenon that will suck you in and may never decide to spit you back out. The locals are decked out in dreds, covered in tattoos of jim morrison and bob marley, and all they are concerned about is making sure you have a good time. I'm pretty sure they have the best life imaginable - climbing every day, spending the nights on the beach listening to live reggae bands, and filling themseleves with bananas. I was planning on doing a couple days of kayaking and horseback riding, but now i think i just may head back to the beach and spend a few more days hanging from rocks - apparently the effects of the bananas have gone straight to my head:)

a few photos updated on flickr of the climb. i've yet to document any evidence of the brutally scratched knees that have left me looking like i had a run-in with the the school-yard bully at recess.

Blissfull Ignorance

heidischeifley — Sat, 3 Nov 2007 21:17:00 GMT

Any time i tried to write an update from cambodia, i felt like i really didn't want to relay any of my thoughts onto you - the unsuspecting, happy people back in Canada. Now that i am back in thailand and can look back on my experience in cambodia, i have to say that my overall experience with it was having my blissful ignorance shattered into a million tiny little pieces. I'm just as aware as the rest of them, i've read the papers, i've seen the news, i always knew there were starving kids somewhere in the world who were left hungry when i refused to eat my dinner as a kid ... but still i was floating in my nice bubble of blissful ignorance. On a longboat trip from siem riep to battambang, we passed thru floating villages - entire towns floating on the water - quite an interesting way of life - my thought was that i'd go stir crazy because you could never walk more than 4 feet before you'd have to turn around and walk back again. Floating down the river, we would pass small huts built into the banks where kids would jump up and down at the sight of foreigners, huge smiles on their faces, waving and yelling "hello!", all while they are surrounded by piles of garbage and sewage - yet still the truest smiles i've ever seen. Another strange sight in cambodia was how many ponds there were, randomly found beside the roads, or deep in the fields - i couldn't figure out why there were so many - that was until i was informed that they are craters formed from all the bombs that were dropped during the war. nice. nothing like a little landscaping formed from the reminents of a brutal regime. After being mentally beaten down by the sights of every day life, you wonder how do you sleep at night after homeless, starving children wrap their arms around your waist and beg you for food, for money, for hope. the answer to that is you dont sleep. well i dont anyway. cambodia was a blur of cities and sleepless nights .. each night would come and go and i would think, maybe tonight i will finally sleep, but i have yet to earn that right i suppose. what's a little sleep deprivation compared to what these people deal with. So, i decided to leave cambodia and head back to thailand and hang out on the beaches .. but not without one last cambodian experience. I bought myself a nice ticket in a pretty air-conditioned bus complete with bathroom from cambodia to bangkok, a trip that was scheduled to take 12 hours. As i sat in the "bus station" in battambang - i looked down at my ticket with it's pretty picture of a big double decker bus - then i looked up at the sound of a bang and saw a rickety old bus with 1 remaining window, filled to the brim with locals and all their worldly possessions. The nice man who sold me my ticket suddenly turned mean and shoved me on the bus. I looked up and down the aisle to find an empty seat - "where do you expect me to sit!?" i ask, while trying to find air to breath amongst the stale stench of the bus. He looks at me as though he wants to spit on me, and pulls out a tiny plastic stool, and throws it in the aisle. did i mention it only had 3 legs? I sat down, looked up at him and said, "i'm going to sit here, and i'm going to ride on this shitty bus, but just know that you're not fooling me, keep my money, i hope it brings you mountains of happiness." If looks could kill, the poor man wouldn't have lasted a second in my presence. But i survived the hellish ride thru the potholes that cambodia is famous for. lucky for me i spent most of the time in mid air before i'd slam back down onto my pathetic excuse for a stool. When i stepped off the bus in thailand i was sporting what looked like a horrible spray on tan, compliments of the red dirt roads and the cloud of dust that accompanied me the entire ride.

And that ended my cambodian experience. One that was wonderful and horrible and worth every minute. And as i breath a dustless sigh of relief, i am on the beaches of southern thailand. Days here are being spent on boats to nearby islands, snorkelling amongst beautiful coral and thousands of strange looking fish. I was walking along a path on one of the islands, on my way to have lunch overlooking the ocean, when the plants along the path started rustling and out of them comes running a lizard, a lizard the size of me, and it's naturally making a b-line right for me. i think it was just as scared of me as i was of him because he was in one hell of a rush, i jumped out of his way, in what was probably the most girliest manouver possible, and he was gone. what worried me more than this gigantic lizard, was what does a lizard that large eat? my feet stayed comfortably on top of my chair at lunch and have yet to comfortably touch the ground.

Tomorrow i am spending the entire day hanging from the limestone rocks above the ocean on a rock climbing adventure that will forever ruin rock climbing back home. Something tells me that the indoor climbing gym in guelph will not bring me the same thrill it once did.

Thailand's beautiful beaches and clean streets have already begun to swarm my head with that dreadful blissful ignorance. Even though i have very few pictures from cambodia, the images will be forever be engrained in my mind...clouded though they may be by the red dust that is equally engrained my skin.

A few photos ...

heidischeifley — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 12:42:00 GMT

www.flickr.com/photos/heidischeifley

On Road Rules ...

heidischeifley — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 12:23:00 GMT

Rules & Regulations of Driving in Southeast Asia - As Seen Through The Eyes of a Foreigner...

   1. When driving along narrow, snake-like roads in the mountains, never stay in your own lane. Instead, drive blindly into possible oncoming traffic at lightening speed. There is no need to fear anything as you have your trusty horn which will naturally protect you from any possible harm.
   2. To determine the age when one is ready to drive, place child on selected mode of transport, if they can find the key to turn it on, they are old enough to drive.
   3. A family that rides together grows together. Your moped may appear small but do not be deceived by it's size. There is more than enough room for mom, dad, grandma, and the kids. The family dog can easily squeeze by your feet and leave plenty of room in the front basket for your kitchen sink should you feel the necessity to bring it.
   4. Get to know your vehicle before driving it. Find the key, the gas, and most importantly the horn. Disregard any form of breaks should you find them as they are of no use to you. Even better than that, remove them entirely and sell the parts to buy a louder horn.
   5. Your vehicle should generally have 2 speeds. 1 - lightening speed, 2 - standing still. When approaching a typical intersection of 4 lanes of traffic with 6 more lanes merging in from all directions and no street lights - keep moving at top speed and ensure your protection by laying on the horn - you will be pleasantly surprised that this organized chaos will protect you from all harm as it does for the other 2 million people doing the exact same thing at the exact same time.
   6. Should you encounter wandering cattle while speeding down the road, When speeding down the road, honk your horn, if they do not get out of your way quickly enough, you are entitled to hit them at full speed.
   7. If you are lucky enough to have a pick-up truck, do not take this for granted. Make full use of it at all times. To do this, Fill it at least 20 feet above it's capacity and secure everything down with one small piece of rope. When this is done, grab as many people as possible and sit them on top of this pile. Continue to drive at deathly speeds.
   8. Almost more important than the use of your horn is the rule on checking your blindspot before merging into traffic. Whatever you do, no matter the urge, DO NOT check your bloodspot. Always look straight ahead and have complete disregard for anything that goes on around you.
   9. After the inevitable happens and your vehicle experiences some form of damage, you will need to learn the secret of duct tape and bamboo. Together they can fix absolutely anything. They can reattach tires, form entire new gas tanks, and are even capable of making the entire frame of a bicycle. There isn't anything that cannot be fixed with these in your possession.
10. As a foreigner, you must accept these rules and adjust to this form of driving. You will learn quickly, as you have no choice, and will find yourself in complete disregard for common rules in no time. Be sure however to also beware of the other dangers of monkeys, snakes, and elephants that will also be sharing the road with you.

I think it's safe to say that this is a pretty accurate depiction of the driving I have experienced here - I think it's one of the many mysteries of the world that all of Southeast Asia has managed to refrain from extinction and has survived these methods of transport!

Blissful Ignorance

heidischeifley — Wed, 24 Oct 2007 20:04:00 GMT

When I was planning this trip I had the standard traveling worries – getting my passport or money stolen, getting lost in a foreign country, or getting sick from eating sketchy food … little did I know that would make me sick would have nothing to do with the food. I arrived in Cambodia yesterday after a roller coaster of a plane ride and was thrown into the turbulence of the Cambodian culture in Phnom Penh. Beyond the garbage and the run down buildings and being relentlessly harassed by tuk tuk drivers and getting lost amongst the pollution and cockroaches, I found myself in a state of sickness I had not anticipated. Children in filthy clothing trying to sell you anything they can get their hands on was hard enough to see, but my stomach wrenched itself into knots at the sight of begging mothers with their screaming babies, lying amongst the garbage and filth of the streets. I went to bed amongst the geckos with a sickening feeling of helplessness and ignorance. Keeping with the horrors of the city I went to visit the Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum where the effects of the Khmer Rouge genocide are still hauntingly present. The Killing Fields contains a towering monumental structure filled with the skulls of thousands of people murdered under the Khmer Rouge regime. The numbers are horrific, it’s estimated that in a 4 year period they killed roughly 2 million people out of population of 7 million. There is little left on the fields to reveal the massacre except signs depicting what was once there. For a place where so much death took place, it was strange to see so much life present on it’s grounds. Butterflies and roosters, flowers and the cool breeze coming off the river – which carried with it the sounds of nearby monks chanting. A strange combination that brought with it a feeling of hope within tragedy. The genocide museum is a former prison used for torture and interrogation and now displays pictures of thousands of people who were tortured and killed there. What I found most horrifying was the looks in people’s eyes in the pictures – you could see that some of them still had hope, and even worse you could see those who had entirely lost the ability to fight. I can’t even begin to understand what happened here, and what’s even worse is how uniformed I was before I saw this. My overall experience in Cambodia was that of having my blissful ignorance shattered into a million tiny little pieces - something that I think every traveler deals with and in some strange way can be viewed as the most beautiful experiences of traveling.

I had heard that travel within Cambodia can be quite unreliable, but experienced it first hand today when my tuk tuk got a flat tire – not once – not twice – and no not three times – but four. Yes. That’s right – four times we had to stop to fix it – which left me sitting on the side of the road beside a cross-eyed Chihuahua and a Cambodian tuk tuk driver with an Australian accent. This also brought with it a glimpse into the life of Cambodia: Need gas? Cant find a gas station? See that vendor selling cigarettes and glass Pepsi bottles filled with an unidentifiable yellow liquid? That's your petrol – crack open a refreshing bottle and fill ‘er up please. Just when you think you’ve found the comforts of home you’re reminded that you’re in a far off land where grilled snake on a stick is a treat for the kids and a bottle of Pepsi looks just a little bit off.

After seeing the chaos and beauty of Cambodia, I was granted one last true Cambodian experience. I bought myself a nice ticket in a pretty air-conditioned bus, complete with bathroom, reclining seats, and even a TV, that would shuttle me the 12 hours from Cambodia to bangkok. As i sat in the "bus station" in battambang - i looked down at my ticket with it's pretty picture of a big double decker bus - then i looked up at the sound of a bang and saw a rickety old bus with 1 remaining window, filled to the brim with locals and all their worldly possessions. The nice man who sold me my ticket suddenly turned mean and shoved me on the bus. I looked up and down the aisle to find an empty seat - "where do you expect me to sit!?" i ask, while trying to find air to breath amongst the stale stench of the bus. He looks at me with an evil glint in his eye, and pulls out a tiny plastic stool, and throws it in the aisle. did i mention it only had 3 legs? I sat down, knowing that there was no way i was going to win this argument and also knowing full well that i paid thirty times more for that ticket than i should have. If looks could kill, the poor man wouldn't have lasted a second in my presence. But i survived the hellish ride through the potholes that Cambodia is famous for. lucky for me i spent most of the time in mid air before I'd slam back down onto my pathetic excuse for a stool. When i stepped off the bus in Thailand i was sporting what looked like a horrible spray on tan, compliments of the red dirt roads and the cloud of dust that accompanied me the entire ride.

And that ended my Cambodian experience. One that was wonderful and horrible and worth every minute. And as i breath a dustless sigh of relief, i am on the beaches of southern Thailand. Thailand's beautiful beaches and clean streets have already begun to swarm my head with that dreadful blissful ignorance. Even though i have very few pictures from Cambodia, the images will be forever be ingrained in my mind...clouded though they may be by the red dust that is equally ingrained my skin.

Fallen down the rabbit hole...

heidischeifley — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 22:40:00 GMT

There are certain comforts that one has to do without while traveling and it's just something you have to accept or else it could become a definite source of rage. Yet I have found a fine balance of comforts and discomforts that mirror each other quite nicely. I have to deal with ants in my bed, they crawl in my ears and up my nose, there is always a nice size family of geckos in every bathroom i have, hot water is advertised but never exists - these are just a few of the minor inconveniences. But with these also comes the joys i know i will miss terribly when i leave. Such as getting all my laundry washed, ironed and folded for $0.50, getting a full body massage for $3, and eating all the mangoes and pineapples my body can handle for pennies a day.

So in sticking to the food tour of asia, i took another cooking class to learn the culinary traditions of laos. We cooked with a wide array of jungle herbs and vegetables, sipped on wine made from purple sticky rice - which strangely resembled a smirnoff twist cooler, and toured the local market where i was exposed to a new level of horrifying foods. coagulated water buffalo blood - mmmmmm. pig skulls, and dried buffalo skin - which is used in just about everything here. I was truely amazed at the sustainability of this country - they use everything and have created what could only be described as culinary masterpieces. Today i bought something off a little old lady - i had no idea what it was but she was so cute and old and i couldn't help but want to give her money for whatever it was she was selling. I gave her what probably turned about to be about 20 cents and got a bamboo stick in return. i played with it for awhile until i realized it cracked open and inside was purple sticky rice steamed in coconut milk! it was absolutely delicious! and genius i might add!

After heading to the Royal Palace of Laos for a traditional theatre performance of monkey dancing i left the city on yet another winding road through the mountains for about a 7 hour bus ride. Each ride presents even more stunning views than the last - the mountains are becoming more rounded and the rice fields more and more green - and the poverty even more dominating. Bamboo huts built on the road, about 2 meters wide with stilts that are holding it from plumeting to it's inevitable destruction down the sheer mountain cliffs. But yet again they are beyond resourceful here and one family was using an old bombshell as a boat. Talk about making lemonade with those sour lemons they've been given.

The city of Vang Vieng is actually quite horrible - a definite backpackers ghetto with bars playing reruns of Friends - what the hell does that have to do with Laos culture?? But i found a beautiful organic farm and had an organic mulberry shake made with organic banana liquer - they make traditional lao whiskey from sticky rice and soak dried organic bananas in it to create something which could never be replicated anywhere but in the beautiful valley along the river. They also specialize in a sweet starfruit wine...one that will definitely have to make the long trip home with me.

The contrast of Laos culture and the tourist industry is literally making my head spin, the combination is constantly confusing and half the time i cant figure out where i am - it often gives the senstation of alice in wonderland - most days i'm pretty sure i've fallen in a hole and am completely disoriented. i think every tourist deals with the guilt of destroying the original beauty of what was once an untouched and pure culture - something that leaves you with a gnawing sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach - or is that the result of eating coagulated water buffalo blood?

Either way, i'm safe and sound in this strange fairy tale and i'm pretty sure that i'll find alice and a rabbit waiting to serve me tea just around the corner.

A glass of wine and a steaming bowl of Snake Soup

heidischeifley — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 15:27:00 GMT

I’m sitting here in an internet café in Luang Prabang beside a young monk in his beautiful saffron robe. Life is strange to say the least. Luang Prabang is a city filled with French colonial architecture set amongst vibrant markets where it is not uncommon to see chopped up snakes, cows feet, and a fresh selection of coagulated water buffalo blood. Laos has the unenviable distinction of being the most heavily bombed place on earth … yet not a face here would reveal a hint of unhappiness. No matter which angel I approach it, I cannot figure out how they mange to be one of the least developed countries, set amongst a tragedy of bombs, and yet still manage to be some of the happiest people I’ve ever met in my life. And this is not a false happiness, it is a happiness that is pure, strong, and clearly unshakable. My journey to Laos was in itself quite a mission and my arrival here was long awaited. I left Thailand at 10pm some night (days cease to exist here) and took a mini bus to the border of Laos through the most hellish roads I’ve experienced yet. I arrived at the border the next morning where I boarded a small boat to cross the river and border into Laos. From there I boarded yet another boat which I was on for 8 hours traveling down the Mekong River on a boat filled with locals and foreigners alike. As our boat docked for the night at a small village, I was granted my first glimpse into the life and culture of Laos, where we had to climb up a steep mud hill while weaving in and out of town folks who were simultaneously trying to sell us a guesthouse along with bags of opium. “Hey you, I have guesthouse … and opium. You want?” It’s wrong that I heard that enough for it to lose all meaning. The poverty was a slap in the face, something I don’t think I could have been prepared for. It’s hard to see especially in the children, yet everyone keeps moving and continues to work together, forming a communal environment and drawing strength from each other.

Day two on the boat began early and was another 8 hour journey. Traveling by boat is quite simply one of the best ways to travel, slowly down the river with a view of the fishing villages and life along the water. We stopped at many places along the way where people would get on the boat carrying everything from the kitchen sink (literally) to the family motorbike. While sitting with my feet hanging in the water I looked up to see a dead body floating by me, slung over a piece of wood. For whatever reason, I was not disturbed or shocked by this, it seemed natural and peaceful. I asked a local about the customs of death within their culture, if someone dies of natural causes along the river, they are set free to float, what could be more natural than that? Strange what traveling does to you, so many things become normal, unforeign, and after you see things enough times, you just simply get used to them and accept them without judgment.

I am becoming more adventurous as the days go by, eating the street food and trying my first shot of Lao Lao – homemade whiskey that is brewed in a large glass jar filled with snakes, lizards, unidentifiable insects, and wild jungle herbs. Apparently it makes you “strong like bull”. Personally I'm just thankful that there is less of a chance of encountering these creatures outside of the jar!

Aside from the snake brew and cows feet, Laos also offers the key to my heart – a good bottle of French wine, cheese and baguettes. Nothing like a true Southeast Asian experience! The world is a strange and jumbled place, it is a true rarity to find a culture that is pure. The Comforts of home are never too far away, yet they are always just slightly off.

So here I sit, amongst the fields of opium, the floating dead, the technologically advanced monks, snake brew, and French wine, in a peacefully bombed country of the happiest tragic people … the paradoxes of life are everywhere, an oxymoronic experience lies waiting around every corner…

Roosters and Opium

heidischeifley — Sat, 13 Oct 2007 19:00:00 GMT

My grandpa used to tell me that hate is a strong word and it shouldn’t be used lightly because chances are you don’t really hate anything. I’ve thought about this often throughout my life and always found in the end, he was always right. Unfortunately, I think in the heart of Pai I have found the one thing that has proven him wrong. There’s this myth I think it must be, on the habits of roosters. They are supposed to be the call of dawn, the one cock-a-doodle-doo to let you know the sun is preparing for it’s debut. Well something went seriously wrong with the circadian rhythms of the roosters it Pai. I moved into a new guesthouse the other day and thought I’d done well for myself, a little bungalow surrounded by trees and a swimming pool, a cute bathroom with stones for a floor, and apparently a sanctuary for every living rooster in the hills of Thailand. My previous experience with roosters is not extensive, yet I know what is normal - and these are not! They start at 2am and refrain from silence until midnight when they break for two hours - in which i can only assume they ingest large amounts of Thai Redbull to ensure their stamina for the next 22 hours. Their dedication is disturbing, constant, and right outside my window. Not loud enough of course, to block out the scurrying, scratching sounds of the cockroaches.

That is however about as bad as it gets here – so I guess I really have nothing to complain about! I explored a little further into the hills yesterday, and found some beautiful waterfalls and climbed through the death-dropping cliffs of Pai Canyon. I met a Brazilian man the other day who told me a story about when his friend was in Thailand years ago and was on his moped trying to find one of the many waterfalls. After driving down dirt roads and through the bushes, he was about to give up. Just then, about 100 meters from the opening to the waterfall, an old woman came out of the bushes and motioned the universal sign for smoking a joint and tried to sell him opium. You get used to this offer in the northern parts of Thailand, but it's not usually when you're in the middle of the wilderness. After forgetting about this story, I was on a dirt road on my moped wondering if I had taken a wrong turn and couldn’t find the waterfall, when not a moment later this woman comes out of the bushes and tries to lure me into her home to buy opium – not 100 meters away was the waterfall. I think she will make her place in the Lonely Planet Guidebook as a true-standing tourist attraction. Sorry to disappoint you little lady but you’re out of luck with this one!

As per many people’s recommendations, I ventured out of town last night to the local blues club. This place was unbelievable! I think every local and every foreigner comes to this place to drink, dance, and listen to live music. I was rendered speechless while listening to a local blues band whose lead singer was a tiny porcelain doll of a Thai woman who belted out the deepest raspiest voice the you could feel vibrating in your stomach. The night's end held it’s own form of entertainment as I watched local after local come stumbling out of the bar, get on his moped and crash horribly on the road. I stood there and watched 7 people do this in a row. One guy jumped off his bike, held onto the brake, revved the gas and ended up flying into the ditch. Drinking and driving doesn’t seem to be a serious offense here as I was standing beside a local police officer, cigarette dangling from his mouth and beer in hand, who stood laughing at the entertainment. I wonder if it's a serious offense to accidentally hit roosters with your moped...

This brings to mind my difficulties with motorbikes. It took me days to get up enough courage to rent a moped. I literally walked by the rental place about ten times, even walked in once and back out again before i finally took the plunge. I have this dilemma where i am far too logical sometimes and could easily convince myself that it is an unintelligent idea to ride a moped in a foreign country, for the first time, where they drive on the wrong side of the road at speeds that could only mean they no longer value their lives or those around them, with a map that is missing half the roads. But what is life without a little bit of risk? So I rented the bike, paid for full insurance and helmet, and found the peace within myself to accept that i have lived a long and happy life. I got on, started the pathetic engine and took off - the first thought to enter my head was, "my mom is going to be so ticked off if i die on this thing". I drove the 100 meters to my guesthouse, parked it, walked my wobbly knees up to my room and sat down for about an hour before i got back on. Pathetic I know, but between dodging the stray dogs and the street vendors and the one traffic light in town that decided not to work, i was a little bit nervous! Anyway, all ended well and I survived. I was granted the beauty of the valleys and rice terraces, the many waterfalls and elephants, and the freedom of speeding through the hills with the wind blowing in my hair.

I was going to try and leave Pai today but couldn't decide where to go. The sleepiness of this town makes it hard leave. I didn't think people could move faster than the speed of the three-legged dogs here, but i saw them all run today when a very large king cobra slithered it's way through the main street. Not having it in my mindset yet that these are things I should be looking out for, I almost walked right into it. Thanks to Charley, the cross-eyed Thai man, my life was spared, as he grabbed me and threw me to the side of the road. I'm pretty sure I heard him mutter something about "stupid farang" as he hobbled away. I think it's easier to be ignorant to these things. If i thought about the fact that i may step on a poisonous snake on my way to breakfast i highly doubt I'd get out of bed every day!

So this is life in Pai. This tiny town is now responsible for my newfound addiction to motorbikes and my now confirmed fear of snakes.

Life in Pai

heidischeifley — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 22:23:00 GMT

The past few days have had me breathing freely in the clear air of the hippie town of Pai. After my first experience of car sickness on the winding roads up the mountain, I arrived at the Pai bus station - which could be mistaken for a dirt parking spot filled with the standard stray dogs of thailand. Pai consists of about 4 streets - all filled with cafes, bob marley music, and bamboo huts along the river. Hippiness in all its glory! I was even treated to an organic wheatgrass shot at a magic shop - not what you'd expect from a tiny town in the hills of thailand! I arrived in the rain and wandered the streets looking for a place to stay - not thinking clearly i thought it'd be great to stay at the guesthouses along the river - when i checked into one and saw the size of the lizard that i was bunking with and the absence of a lock on the door - i checked out into something more my style - fit for a princess with a balcony and king size bed. i make myself laugh - living the luxury life on $10/day.

Pai is the jumping point to treking and rafting and if you dont do that you're laying around with a book. After doing the reading thing, and the coffee thing, i got up the courage to do the moped thing. I literally walked by the rental place about 10 times, even walked in once and back out again, before i finally took the plunge. I have this dilema where I am far too logical sometimes and could easily convince myself that riding a scooter in a foreign country, for the first time, where they drive on the wrong side of the road at speeds that could only mean they no longer value their lives or those around them, with a map that was missing half the roads ... well i just kept convincing myself this was a bad idea! but there's really no other way to see the countryside and i figured i'd be safer on a scooter then on foot! so i rented it - paid for full insurance and helmet. i got on, started the pathetic little engine and took off - first thought in my head? - my mom is going to be so pissed if i die on this thing. i drove the 100 meters to my guest house, parked it, walked my wobbly knees up to my room and sat down for about an hour before i got back on. pathetic i know but between dodging the stray dogs and the street vendors and the one traffic light in this town that decided not to work - i was a little bit nervous! anyway, all ended well and i survived...got to see the beautiful valleys and rice fields, took a side road and ended up at an elephant camp - those damn elephants keep sneaking up on me! Within 10 minutes of being on that scooter i was speeding thru the hills and laughing at myself for having feared it in the beginning.

After mastering the art of the moped i felt like i should keep on going so i signed up for a white water rafting trip thru the pai river. 7am we left - in the back of a pick up truck thru those winding hills yet again - 2 people from israel, 2 from brazil, 2 from holland, 2 guides from thailand - all speaking their native tongue - and me. hahaha - needless to say i quite enjoyed the scenery! We spent the whole day on the river, stopped at a waterfall and hot springs along the way and ended with an attempt at cliff diving - just couldn't convince myself that that was intelligent. Had a great guide named "popcorn" - i tried to tell him he didn't really pick the best english name but it seemed to suit him. He was great at throwing us into the rapids and took us along the river where we could see the monkeys playing in the trees. after which he tried to get me to come to his home and eat monkey brains. no thanks! I'm happy with my re-found vegetarianism. the day ended with a 3 hour drive back to pai in the back of the truck thru the winding roads - with a view of the sunset over the rice fields and the rest of the way the road was lit only by stars and fireflys.

i was going to try and leave pai today but couldn't decide where to go - this is the problem with not having a plan - too many choices! I think I will go to Laos from here ... but the sleepiness of this town makes it hard to move! I didn't think people could move faster then the speed of the 3-legged dogs here - but i saw them all run today when a very large and i'm assuming poisonous snake made it's way thru the main street. not having it in my mindset yet that these are things i should be looking out for, i almost walked right into it. thanks to charlie, the cross-eyed thai, who threw me out of the way and after gave me a hug. he probably muttered something about stupid white girls when i walked away too ... it's easier for me to be ignorant to these things ... if i thought about the fact that i may step on a poisonous snake on my way to breakfast i highly doubt i'd get out of bed every day!

so this is life in pai ... this tiny town is now responsible for my new-found addiction to mopeds and rafting, and my now confirmed fear of snakes...

Mia

heidischeifley — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 14:01:00 GMT

who cares about thailand - it's got nothing on the fact that i have a new niece who i have yet to meet but love more than words can say. Welcome Mia:)

City Life ...

heidischeifley — Sat, 6 Oct 2007 20:01:00 GMT

I'm sure a lot of you have heard me say before "a city is a city is a city". It's been my experience that they are all the same no matter where you go in the world, big buildings, lots of traffic, starbucks, and english signs everywhere. I'm not so sure i can use that saying anymore, as Chiang Mai has shown me a few things to prove otherwise...It all started out with a joke i heard ... A canadian girl goes into a bar in Thailand and an elephant walks in... oh ok wait - that's not a joke! Hands down the strangest experience of my life. After a dinner out with the English boys we headed to a bar on the main street so they could play pool. The bars are set up with only 3 walls and the front is open to the street. i was sitting down taking pictures of the nightlife when an elephant walked into the bar. i'm not sure if i've ever been so shocked at anything before - it was just so weird! After i got past being mind-boggled i realized how truly sad it was, the poor baby elephant trapped into a brutal life. Mirrored with that was the thai girl-boy hooker who was near by trapped into a brutal life of selling his/her body for money. I watched for about an hour as western men were lured into bars where thai girls flirted with them for awhile until you saw them both jump on a scooter, only for the girl to return later to repeat the practice yet again.

I haven't been up to too much still in the city. Yesterday I wandered around trying to take in some of the 300+ temples, and tried to make it up into the mountains to see what is supposed to be one of the most beautiful temples in northern thailand. that didnt really work out due to a tuk tuk driver who decided he didn't want to go any further and dropped me off on the outside of the city. then it started to pour and i flagged down a taxi, showed him on the map where i wanted to go, and he just said no and drove away! for as much as the taxi drivers harass you here it's unbelievable that he did that! needless to say i spent about 5 hours walking in the rain getting lost in the city. thank god i paid for hot water at my guesthouse! On the bright side i got to explore the ENTIRE city and enjoyed almost every minute of it.

Today I signed up for a cooking class which was absolutley amazing! I couldn't have been happier. We stopped by the local market and i got a tour of what everything was, then we went into the "suburbs" of chiang mai to the cooking school which was an open-air set up with our own personal stoves. The food was unbelievable and the teacher was fabulous, made me want to study cooking at a thai school! I got the most amazing picture of when i was learning how to "adventure cook" as my thai teacher called it - which involved oil, water, and a HUGE flame!

Plans for the next few days are up in the air. i wanted to head north to a town called Pai and do some treks from there into the jungle but this typhoon has been causing a lot of rain and i dont think i'm fond of mudslides. but maybe i will be tomorrow! this is what i get for coming in the rainy season!

if i've done this right i think this link should take you to some photos ...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=8562&l=dd500&id=508333320