blogging is SO HARD

But seriously.

Finally got bikes today. My bike is nowhere near as sleek & pink & pretty as my baby at home (which is chillin in the garage, neglected and lonely, with its leaky tube/flat tire), but it has more durability/tread. I sacrificed aesthetics for practicality because I intend on ridinnnn out on many a rocky dirt road. Alex and I are trying to outfit our bikes with boomboxes so we can blare da gangsta beatz, NBD. (Parents: you will be pleased to know that I did not get a motorbike, which is what 95% of people drive hurr). Anyway, it'll be nice to ride the 5 km into central Vientiane without having to hail a tuk-tuk. Slowly but surely decreasing our falang status.../nope, as long as Alex carts around about 40 pounds of camera equipment everywhere we go, we'll be straight falanging. Also, the fact that we're obviously white...


Lao version of Arc D'Triomphe. Waddup, colonialism.

So, apparently "winter" (mid-70s) is still a while off, because it's been in the low-mid 90s the past couple of days and my nose is now the proud owner of a truly flattering sunburn. I PINE FOR YOU, COLD WEATHER/SNOW/UNPLEASANT SLEET-RAIN-ICE MIX (I'm talking to you, Prov). Mmmm, coated in sweat by 10 AM. It's really lovely in the evenings though. As soon as the sun goes down at 6, it cools down really fast and the nights are breezy and wonderful. Not autumnal, but as good as it's gonna get for now. Speaking of autumn, I was worried I would miss all my favourite fall customs (Halloween, hayrides, leaves changing, apple picking, etc.), and, for the most part I am...except for pumpkins. No pumpkin patches or carving, but lots and lots of delicious soup made from them. Mmmmmmm. Def makin a pumpkin pie 4 thnxgiving.



All right, the sun is going down in and lightning is flashing over Thailand (what? how weird is it to say that!) and I want to get a little nap in before we meet up with our new friend--our first friend!--later this evening. Hope everyone is doing something for Day of Action! Oh, and check out this organization; we're doing some volunteer work with them and they're super!

Banana Girl

There are over 500 varieties of bananas in Laos, each of them more glorious than the last. For the first time in my life, I believe in God.

Nam Ngum Reservoir

Not a bad place to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Too bad the creation of this paradise was a side effect of the construction of the Nam Ngum hydroelectric dam, which destroyed the lives of thousands of villagers living along this river. The Chinese now want to build seven more dams along the Mekong. Thanks, but no thanks.

baw pit farang

I thought I was going to get a parasite/tapeworm here, but so far, chances are I'm just gonna get fat. The food is not only FANTASTIC, but also so inexpensive. Take, for example, our dinner yesterday. We went out--my first meal out in Laos--to enjoy some noodles before a traditional malang concert (which, as it were, we never made it to, but more on that later). The tables around us were crowded with young men and in the back of the restaurant a male trio was jamming away with some light Thai, Vietnamese, and English tunes. I ordered the Lao pad thai, which, though similar to the popular Thai pad thai, had very skinny noodles and, in my opinion, much more flavahhh. We also indulged in some Beerlao, the beverage of choice in Laos, and lemonade. Lao lemons are much sweeter so the Lao make lemonade the right way--no sugar added. Deliciously tart. I plan on drinking it like water (especially considering you're generally not supposed to drink the water). Anyway, the bill came and we split the check: about $3 each. Yup, 3 bucks for a heaping plate of noodles that I couldn't even finish + drannnnks. I could really get used to this. Just as John, our new Scottish friend, divulged to us tonight: once you get used to living in Southeast Asia for a few months, you may never make it back. He's been here for fifteen years. So if you all don't see me until I'm 35, you'll know what happened.

After lingering to enjoy the band a bit longer ( "It's your god forsaken right to be ruv ruv ruved..." Jason Mraz cover: CHECK), we rolled out. We never made it to the concert, however, because we got held up by the po-po. Yeah, just bein' BAMFs. Nope though, not for opium possession or something remotely cool. Jacqui, ready to make a U-turn, passed the white line and out of nowhere a young policeman trotted over. Ain't no thang, because Jacqui proceeded to school the young man in Lao and then bffl out with his boss. Jacqui's got 99 problems, but a traffic ticket ain't one.

The past couple of days San, my new main girl, has been teaching us how to cook and, perhaps more importantly, how to speak Lao. As we "helped" chop veggies, San pointed to each of the foods and told us the Lao word for it, which we then echoed like silly parrots and I jotted down phonetically. I am now pretty fluent in Lao, as long as I don't stray from the kitchen. My favorite Lao LOL so far is that the word for "pork" is VERY similar to the word for "friend." Also, this word is basically "moo," which adds another layer of irony. Over lunch, Jacqui shared with us an amusing anecdote about confusing the two words and asking a confused girl whether she went to school with her pigs over and over again. BTW, San has culinary SKILLZ. not only can she wield knives like I've never seen before, but she can slice a toothpick in half. LENGTHWISE. Damn, girl.





Now, on to the matter of "pit PITTTT!" A lot of Lao dishes are rather spicy, which I think I'm handling pretty well, if I do say so myself. But San is sensitive to those of us living here who are not so into da spicez and makes dishes baw pit (not spicy). It's hard to really explain, but the expression "pit PITTT!" is yelped by raising your inflection on the repetition of the word, mimicking the agitation the chile sparks. The exclamation has become a favorite of ours. Alex and San like to mock me by saying baw pit farang or "no spiciness for the dumb Westerner." Farang too has become a staple of our limited vocabulary; whenever we do something touristy or just plain stupid, a little "Look at this foolish farang" self-deprecation is in store.



I've come to terms with the fact that I don't have the time or discipline to update this daily, but let me just say, the first four days here have been jam-packed with incredibleness. Just settling into a whole new way of life is really thrilling and exhausting. Last night, after feasting and imbibing down by the river, we ambled around in the temperate late evening, a cooler wind meandering through the lazy town and it felt so natural. It seems forever ago that I woke up from a nap into the fiery sun melting into the Mekong, our first afternoon here, asking myself, "Is this a dream?" Nope, this is just my life now. And I can dig it.

Some travel pics (I think if you click on them, you can view them bigger):



entering immigration in Bangkok, sporting my last flannel for a while...



learning Lao over breakfast at the Bangkok airport



tarmac, Vientiane

The Lao Down (sorry, I had to)

After waking up late yesterday at 8, I was up and at it by 6 this morning. Those of you who know me (yes, the grand total of three people who actually read this) are probably scoffing in disbelief, knowing full well that "late" for me usually qualifies as in the PM. But life starts earlier here and after a couple of days, it's obvious why: IT IS SO FREAKING HOT. No wonder people get their walks and runs in at sunrise; it's BROILING by mid-morning. Low to mid-90s never felt so brutal at home, but I guess you feel the heat much more without frequent retreats into air conditioning.

And things like that are strange. I don't know if these constant revelations I'm having should be called "culture shock"--it's closer to a steady stream of realizations of all you can, and most people do, live without. Do I REALLY need water pressure, a dishwasher, eyeliner, a cell phone? Is getting incredibly sweaty walking the four kilometers home really going to kill me? What's really so bad about a gecko hanging out in my pots and pans? Maybe some things are less convenient and maybe a tad less sanitary, but it's not the end of the world. And I'm not going to turn this into a rant about environmentalism and the gross excesses of the Western world, but it makes you think about how relatively painless it would be for us all to live a little more simply--and how that money saved could be so much better employed.

Which brings me to Tu Hkawng, the intellectual also living at Jacqui and Roger's place for the next few days. Tu Hkawng is from Myanmar, staying in Vientiane until the uproar over a bombed dam simmers down. Of course, he had nothing to do with the incident but was targeted anyway because he had spoken out against dams that the Chinese are erecting. These dams are destroying entire villages and throwing numerous species into endangerment with flooding, drought, water pollution and contamination from pesticidal runoff, etc. I've been having really awesome conversations with Tu Hkawng and learning a ton about the politics and conditions of Myanmar, a place which, admittedly, I knew very little about even 48 hours ago. Dinners and even breakfasts can extend a couple of hours as we all get wrapped up in these absorbing and jarring conversations. Tu Hkawng and Jacqui are so incredibly knowledgeable because they've lived and seen all these tremendous and horrifying things. I sometimes think I am learning more at each meal here than I did in some of my semester-long courses. More and more I'm seeing how there is so much about the world that you cannot know no matter how much you read. You have to talk to people. You have to want to learn.

This was supposed to be a food/pictures post, I don't know what happened. I promise that's up next.

In the meantime (because clearly you are all sitting around idly waiting for my next entry), check out Alex's blog, Laoder Than Words. Decent name, I guess. Just kidding, his is actually much more in-depth and less tangental so get up on it.

La kawn!

sabai di!

Finally, FINALLY, we have arrived in Vientiane, the capitol of Laos/our home for the next few months. Travel was...as painless as multiple-day travel can be. My flight from Newark to Tokyo was uneventful--I watched four movies (yes, I watched Babies for the third time...) and marveled at the ability of the couple next to me to not use the bathroom once during the thirteen hour flight. I met up with my cousin at Narita and, about seven hours later, we were in our Bangkok airport hotel--where we spent a grand total of seven hours before hauling back off to the airport for our early flight. My first impression of Southeast Asia: HUMID. My hair hasn't been this curly since I was eight. It's pretty hot too--probably 90 F, but it was 90 in New Jersey when I left (thanks, global warming).

So, after gawking at the modernistic Bangkok airport for an hour or so, we flew to Laos in a tiny but festive plane and Jacqui, our wonderful host, picked us up. Her house is incredible--tons of open space and light, views of the arresting Mekong River on three sides, bamboo all over, and, most importantly, the darlingest little kitty that already I have fallen in love with (never mind the fact that it has fleas). I thought I would be pining for Snuggle Bottom but now it's like Snuggle who? Anyway, we just finished a flavorful squash soup-ish dish for lunch with some delicious almost sour juice made from a local rosella. Jacqui's housekeeper has gamely agreed to teach us how to prepare some Lao dishes while we're here, which is awesome. Also, due to the opportunity to try tons of new dishes and the general impracticality while traveling, I have decided to suspend my pescetarianism for the duration of this trip. Bring it on, edible insects.

Well, the fact that I've only gotten about 10 hours of sleep in the past 3 days is finally catching up with me. I'm off for a nap before dinnertime. Pictures coming soon!

leavin on a jet plane

I'm not exactly sure where to start with this whole blogging thing, so I guess why is as good of a place as any. I never imagined taking off time during school; I always thought I'd want to go straight through. But last spring I found myself feeling increasingly uncertain--not because I didn't love Brown but because I really had no idea what I wanted with my college experience and felt that I was wasting something precious by just going through the motions. It was a hard decision, but in the end taking a leave of absence this semester feels like the right thing for me.

I'm leaving in two days for Vientiane, Laos (via Tokyo and Bangkok--ahh, the joys of 48+ hrs of travel) where I will be living until Christmastime. I'll be working for an international convention on cluster munitions. The summit, a meeting of about 110 nations who signed a treaty banning the production and use of cluster bombs in 2008, is being held in Laos because this country has the regrettable distinction of being the most bombed in history. From 1964-1973, the United States (in violation of the Geneva Convention and without Congress approval) dropped over 78 million tons of ordnance on Laos, 30% of which failed to detonate during the war and to this day causes hundreds of deaths annually. Hopefully this meeting will be an important step in implementing change to prevent future such tragedies.

And I'm not one of those kids who's all "I'm going to save the world," so this is pretty weird for me. But I think that's what I need right now. Perhaps pouring myself into something that has nothing to do with me will somehow give me direction (and hopefully not malaria). I think it's sometimes hard to see yourself and what kind of role you play until you realize how narrow your human experience truly is. There isn't one "correct" path, but many.

...Just reread that and gagged. I swear future posts will be less "deep."

And, for some comic relief, this is my new fave accessory for the trip:



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWEfmCvu8R8