FESR Rocks the House!

WOW!

So- the technical end of this program has come. The group- aside from our somewhat confused "coordinator" and me have left for their respective sites of livelihood and travel.

It's hard to describe in words- without writing a short story- what we have done and experienced here working with FESR (the micro-credit org I've been interning with), what it has meant, and how friggin bad ass these people are. I've been working with four MBAs from Kellogg, three other undergrads from around the country, and a load of awesome Vietnamese people who bring down the house. We broke up into several different projects- doing something like an audit on their social return (trying to measure to good they do- the shit I always hated in economics but now see as necessary for these people to get outside funding). Other projects included a focus on their retail business loans- finding success stories and creating a pamphlet/brochure in the end, and an "integrated marketing" project that reviewed the fiscal stability of the organization. In the end, the whole team produced a well documented overview of their current loan practices for partners and potential sponsors, additional forms and suggestions to get more accurate data to track progress of loan recipients, a website (because Cary and Ron are, awkwardly phrased, both the man) and a brochure for future spenders.

Technically speaking, I have learned a tremendous amount about micro-credit operations- how they sustain themselves internally as well as how they work with their clients. I also feel quite accomplished with the work we've done. The last night some of us were cranking out this brochure and a professor came in from AIT in Bangkok- he's partnering with FESR and a Canadian NGO to work on a healthy market project- i.e.- women in the markets will get loans to help sanitize their stalls and make their practices safer for the environment (because imagine it now: people throw huge blocks of ice on the floor where animal blood and fish juice has been draining all day while it sits out...) Anyhow- the girls gave this guy a paper copy of the presentation I had helped give just earlier that day- as a comprehensive, English overview of what they do. Shit damn! How awesome! Wham bam and I already felt like we made a differece.

On a personal note- I have so much respect for the men and women who work at FESR. Living in Vietnam has definately been an experience- the closest by far I have ever been to another culture. There's good and bad, but take for example that our last day there was a ceremony- almost like graduation. They thanked us sincerely, giving us each little plaques and candies made in temples (like a blessing). There is such deep tradition here that infuses everything- even business. An older man from the board came to give his thanks- refined and dignified with every move. The girls cried. (Also- aside from the FESR crew- I worked with some amazing professionals and students from the states. I learned from and love them all- okay, or most of them).

On a fun note- the Vietnamese throw down and the last two days were a mish mash of no sleep, going out, presenting, crunch time, going out again, not sleeping again, drinking for lunch with Mr. Hai, karaoke (which i will dearly miss)...work, play, nap, work, play harder, nap- wait no time- go work or play again!

The rest of my time here will be spent doing some fairtrade stuff for a friend back home (Trani you rock) and helping out/learning more at FESR before I head out to Laos for a brief stint in the mountains.

Bicycles

If you know me, you know I love bikes. So my first weekend in Hue I purchased a cheap, rickety, pumpkin colored bike with a white basket.

To highlight the character of Vietnam, I thought I should chronicle some of the creatures I have almost run over- or into- while on said bicycle:

-A female praying mantis
-Mutiple roosters
-A calf suckling its mother in the middle of the road
-Careless children
-Bamboo- which falls down in the storms
-Insence that people leave out to dry (they make inscence here with spice, glue, and water- roll it up on sticks, and set it in the street to dry in the sun)
-Piles of burning trash- because frequently people like to create little ashy bonfires in
the gutter to dispose of waste


Things that have almost run over me:

- Careless moto drivers
-Buses
-Little children whose careless parents let them drive bicycles and motos

Don't worry mom- I'm safe. It's all about traffic flow- I've got this.

much love- me

A year in the life

You can read this one in chunks too...

Alrighty. So it was about one year ago that I first left the usofa. Direct flight, Chicago to Delhi. One year later all that has happened in between is finally starting to make sense, and I think I will write about it.

When I first went to India I went to study Buddhism. Program specifics being what they were, english language sessions with a Tibetan refugee, I still knew my spare time would be spent in temples, gleaming whatever knowledge or practice I could. I had and have revolted against popular American culture for quite a while. At that particular point, I also revolted against alcohol. Perhaps it was the influence of a certain abstinent man I had been seeing who had the lowest opinion of drunks, perhaps is was the undesired effect of working part time for an alcoholic, perhaps it was just my perogative. Either way, I didn't go to India to drink or go out at night. Indians don't really drink- and I pretty much only wanted to do as Indians did. I wanted to shed my culture and completely absorb another. I gave to beggars and couldn't understand the callousness of those who used the easy excuse that it's all merely a racket. I didn't believe it then and I still don't.

When I returned to the states I first noticed two things: we're fat, and we have a lot of excess infrastructure. I wanted to get rid of all of it. I fasted for a week and didn't really call anyone. I spent my week at home out in the country listening to meditation cds and preparing for semester at sea. I felt calm. Or- I felt overwhelmed by paperwork and school and money- "illusions" I hadn't had to deal with up in the mountains.

So, at my height of "fuck pop culture, fuck consumerism, etc" I climbed aboard a giant cruise ship ready to sail around the world. No fucking wonder I had so many problems. This wasn't the basic americanism I was fleeing- this was an extremely wealthy lifestyle and had never even seen. I recall a specific image: We are sailing through the Red Sea. It is the skinny part where you can see Saudi Arabi or Yemen (not sure) to your right and Djibouti to your left. Total oil rigs in this tiny stretch numbered perhaps twenty and helicopters occasionally circled. And then I looked around me. From the top deck JayZ blasted from the poolside bar as fake blondes sunbathed- next to Saudi Arabi- on our gas guzzling ocean liner. Just think about that for a minute. I sure did.

When we docked in countries I ran away. I didn't want to travel with a hoard of people in khaki shorts. I wanted immersion. I often got it. I was thoughtful, observant, reflective, and considerate of the people and places we visited. Most of all, I'm sure no surprise to anyone who knows me, I sought out religion. I went to temples in Asia, mosques in Turkey, and cathedrals in Spain. I was constantly overwhelmed.
As much as I learned from these places, however, I also had to deal with my reaction to America. Because, lets face it, I was floating on a big bowl of pop America. Thank sweet God I had some professors who understood this as well. There were, of course, many students who were amazing and deep and insightful on the ship. I would apologize to them all if I could for not being more open. There was nothing I could do. Sometimes, when we are dealing with and analyzing so very much internally, it just becomes very difficult to stay open and expend any more energy. As much as I tried I had significant trouble connected with a lot of my friends on the ship.

I realize now that I was incredibly hard on myself which caused me to be hard on others. I couldn't sit down and watch TV or a movie without thinking that it was a worthless waste of time that rotted my brain and fed me pop culture. If I drank a coke I thought about high fructose corn syrup and the evils of giant corporations. India was the culmination of several years of distancing myself from so much of what is common in our country. After India, I realize I didn't just leave my comfort zone, I had abolished it. I visited countries and wanted to learn all I could about people there. I felt I was a Buddhist, a Muslim, a Christian, a Jew, a Burmese, an Indian, a Turk. I felt an amazing connection to everything- the oversoul as Emerson best put it. But this connection, as deep as it can be, is also very abstract. In the immediate, I am not Croatian, Japanese, etc. I am an American. The longer I am here the more I am realizing this.
So that is what happened to me: I destroyed the option of falling back on American identity and threw myself at others. But you don't sink into a place in five days- and so I threw myself into the air. And I spent quite a few months twisting around up there trying to figure out how and where to land. That was a great portion of my spring- and perhaps why my Carnival season in new orleans was so outlandish and foolish and dramatic.

So now I'm in Vietnam. On this stint so far I have visited Cambodia and Thailand as well. I believe this is the longest time I've really spent out of the country. I feel good- I feel I'm learning a tremendous amount, both from other travelers, and now from the business students I'm working with here at FESR. I feel comfortable connecting to America. As we have joked here, America does not equal a dollar sign. It does not equal giant corporations or George Bush. It often does, but it doesn't always. It also means an incredibly diverse, often tolerant group of people. Granted, if I walk into Zotz in a Tulane hoodie, I don't get the best reception, but still comprably- there is no stereotypical american. We are all diverse. In Vietnam, everyone is Vietnamese. If I walk into a coffeeshop an entire crowd will point and laugh at my funny crocs- which I saw fit to draw all over in color sharpie. They are quite beautiful really, and at least I am amusing someone. But hey, in the states, people don't (typically) point and laugh because you are different. I realize I'm not in the states, so I'll deal with it, but I am appreciating our diversity more and more. Same goes for New Orleans. I like that Chris Owens can have a hat parade on easter sunday while all the Catholics sit in the cathedral. I like that you can get in a costume and be completely outrageous and its okay. I like that you can be different. I don't have to like giant corporations, or starbucks, or george bush, and I'll always be in good company with someone.
--OR, I can be in no company. The phenomenon of being alone hasn't yet hit the Vietnamese. "Only one?" "Why don't you do it together?" "Where are your friends?" I'm with the big group right now, but this is one country that just gets sort of bothersome in that regard. I am quite aware when I am alone, and I'm okay with it. Relax. Go be collective. It's good for you, but its not always good for me.

So theres the thing- just realizing I don't have to like everything about the places I visit. Just because they are other doesn't always make them better. Rest assured, do not expect me to return some kind of raging patriot- just because the US is familiar, doesn't make it better either. I feel that I have just learned to be open to ALL of it- not only other cultures, but my own. They are all beginning to blend anyway. (Remembering a group of Tibetan monks watching Men in Black II in a tiny tea shack. "Will Smith?" "Yes, yes, that's will smith") Same same but different.

So aside from occasional frustrations, I'm feeling pretty great. I look at the woman I am now compared to the young girl who took off a year ago and I am in awe. Even in the past three months- so much has happened and changed and so much the better.

For now- I am back off to the nunnery for chanting, dinner, and english lessons. I love you all. mwah.

A day in the life

so in theory tomorrow's post will be a large cultural revelation i have had based on my past year of traveling, but i realized that i have not written- or wanted to write- a basic post on what happens here. So here it is, a saturday in Hue.

Wake up late- no work on Saturday's. Need to switch hotels- I will not elaborate on the frustration I have faced with program coordinators and business people, etc- but lets just say frustration level is high. I pack up to leave my favorite two ladies- Tea and Houng. Love 'em.
I go to Lotus for banana pancake breakfest. I get the bill and notice everything is higher than the menu says. "wrong menu- here is right one." Oh, thanks. So there's a foreigner menu where everything is more expensive and you show me as I'm leaving. Typical.

A few good things happened today: I took a nap in my new hotel. It has a/c. Upon waking I decided to search out the indian place in town, and had the best north indian food I've had since I was there. God bless you Omar, god bless you for cooking vegetables. Here in Hue, the Vietnamese will take most all living beings aside from people, chop them up, cover them with fish sauce and serve them with rice. "oh you don't eat meat? here, have some rice...and fish sauce." Great.

It rained, which cooled things off and was glorious. I headed out on my bike to Dieu Nghiem Pagoda I visited last weekend. It is one of the most peaceful, serene places I've found here and that is what I needed. I take the path to the right as the water/fan women yell at me from the pagoda entrance to the left. The nunnery is up ahead, and these nuns produce the most beautiful chanting I've ever experienced. It is something between native american tones, celtic melodies, and asian chants with gongs. The nuns are wonderful. They smile and greet me and I know it is sincere and kind. No one is trying to sell me a damn thing.
As they finish their rounds a nun comes to invite me to dinner. I'm still full from blessed aloo palak, but hey, a little nun invites you to dinner after a wretched few days and you don't say no.
As we eat one of the sisters speaks splendid english with me, and after I go on the ultra-slow walking meditation/english lesson with the curious sister who invited me to dinner. Even without hair, in the drap grey robes, she is intensely beautiful.

I will return tomorrow- four oclock- for that wonderful chanting and peaceful atmosphere.

I get back to town just at dusk- terrible for biking. The drivers in this country are crazy and I always try to get in by dark. I lock up the bike and head to the park by the river (parks are the place to be at night. They light them up with these funky neon lights, little men bike around selling popcorn, and benches are filled with couples holding hands- really- just holding hands). I've been practicing poi ever since Xavi hooked me up on Hat Tien in Thailand- so I break out the set and get going. I got to pick up a few moves from an Aussie in the street the other night, so there's even more to practice. It's nice at night because the people become more interested in the member of the opposite sex across the bench from them and less interested in gawking at a funny foreign girl swinging around neon balls on chain.

Then its back to the hotel, bath, internet.

And there we have it, a day in Hue. Tune in tomorrow for Laura's cultural insights and revelations (i think that will happen at least, we'll see)

hope this posts- vietnam actually blocks american blogs so it's a wierd twisted process writing and i'm never quite sure it works.

much love

Okay- so I'm finally writing. I blame it on Hue being a slow city and me being vaguely bored. I must say, this is killing the mystery.

So work: We've been at it for about a week now. The organization I'm working with is called the Fund for Encouragment of Self Reliance. They started up in 2000 when some moderately wealthy Vietnamese guy in Cali decided to help out back home. Since then, they have given over 8,000 loans- the smallest amount being around 100 USD ranging up to 400 or so. With this amount of money people typically buy livestock- but the variety of trades are endless- vending, agriculture, hairstyling, etc. Over 85% of the loans are given to women because- well, we are more responsible with money. According to them, and pretty much every other microloan place out there, most men will smoke and drink away a small loan. So the women get some money and hopefully begin a business or trade that can help feed and school their children. Many of these families are living below the extreme poverty line- on under a dollar a day.

This first week I feel we (i'm here with a group) have been learning more about the specifics of the operation- how they calculate interest, how they screen candidates, how they disburse loans, etc. I hope by the end of my 6 weeks I will be able to contribute something as well. We will be working basically on some infrastructure issues- helping them figure out some numbers and organizational issues so that we can create a solid report showing their positive effects, which would hopefully result in grant money from other sources so that the project can expand.

Thanks to anyone reading this who helping me get here- there were many generous souls who sponsored this trip and I truly appreciate it.


Aside from the work- my first three weeks out were pretty great. I came early and went through Cambodia and Thailand a bit. It was a bit of a shock really being here alone for the first weekend or so, but after the initial adjustment period it went straight uphill...

Relaxing in cambodia, hammocks, coconuts, angkor wat, ta phrom, Swiss, full moon parties, more hammocks, blue moon parties, Israelis, yoga, beaches, Catalans, getting lost in the jungle, being grateful for life, Cubans, lady boys, train rides, states of disrepair, Chilleans, states of elevation, really good curry bowls, fruit shakes, rat, Brits, POI POI POI!, dancing, and the list goes on...

But for now my "boss" just spotted me and it's group meeting time. Much love.

Benn King are you there????

This post is pretty much soley for Benn whose email address I have misplaced. I love you and have been trying to write- I keep sort of guessing combinations but i dont think I'm getting them right. Anyhow, I hope you check this and write me back at lpavicev@tulane.edu so I can finally send you letters.

As for the rest of you blokes I dont think I'm blogging so much on this trip- i might start later.

much love!

Western Backpack

So I suppose it's time to start this puppy back up.

May 15th- and on June 6th I hop aboard a flight (or more like 4 flights to be precise) to Saigon/Ho Chi Mihn City. I'll have three+ weeks of travel time before heading to Hue where I'll be doing an internship with CoVN, an organization which gives small, microcredit loans to women to help start their own businesses. I believe we'll be helping with business plans, etc. There is also a lot they do with a large community farm out of town; i.e., the women get a small loan to rent part of this land which they can then farm and use to sell produce at local markets. For those unfamiliar with microcredit it is, to my knowledge, one of the most effective methods for helping those in the third world get out of poverty. Loans go to women, who, unlike men, take care of their families and don't squander the money. It is also very grassroots and avoids the bigtimers- IMF, USAID, etc., who tend to care about politics and profit and not actually help many people. Pretty much, I would like to spend a portion of my life doing work like this and I find it telling and promising that this internship came my way.

I applied for this big grant to go to India, had some misgivings, didn't get it...ended up getting a grant from my department to do an unpaid internship-and landing this internship--all in like 3 days. (Did I mention things have been really great here the past month? Yeah.)

So I'll work with this project in Hue for 6 weeks starting in July and then have another week and a half or so to travel.

Expected destinations: Cambodia to angkor wat and phnom phen, Thailand to Bangkok to see Kim and an some islands perhaps, a nunnery in Vietnam whose name and location escape me, but when planning a trip long ago (2 months) they were very open to having me come visit and they speak english, down to the Mekong to see my friend Yom from SAS, and up to Sapa- perhaps the highlight in my mind- it is in the "Tokinese Alps" and full of nomadic mountain tribes.

What's crazy is that this is the trip I planned all along- wanting to go back to Vietnam, look at their economy for my thesis- comparing the industrialized south with the tribes in the north- ended up taking Vietnamese this semester specifically to go back...
And now, in a very roundabout way, it all happened.

So- must go now- but stay tuned for what will be my longest stint in another country (and not on a ship).

Hooah.

Sound Bites

those juicy conversation clips overheard while supposedly working, and needing to work, on a final paper...

that boy-the stupid one who first entered the library during the second week of finals on what i will assume is his second or third year- that boy who was so confused about the printers and felt the need to talk loudly on his damned cell phone- that boy just began to sell an ounce on said phone while traipsing through the library lobby on his way out

It's Getting Better Everyday

It's gettin better everyday.

:)

Lifeforce ceremony- thanks Karma! I needed that.
A's.
Boys.
Summer grants that require no applications. Thanks Dr. H.
Travel.
Beer.
New friends, old friends.
Jazzfest.
Nola in the Spring and Jasmine in my hair...no, not the rice.

SAS kids? I love you all. And it feels damn good to be able to say that sincerely.

Gettin better everyday.

Getting Hit by Cars

So in the last four months I have been hit by cars...twice, while riding my bicycle.

The first time I probably could I have died. I attributed my astonishing survival and impecable condition (minus a bit of road rash, swollen ankle, and stiff neck) to angels. Velvet, my friend the fortune teller, was right when she told me not to worry; I had angels watching me. Turns out that night my grandmother was saying her evening prayers for me as well. And so I took it to mean that my life was not finished, that I had a purpose here I had yet to fulfill. Didn't quite matter that I had no clue what that was--something was out there for me to do. Yet when I really thought about it, the ideal of dying, well, it wasn't that..moving. I would just be like everyone else who dies. People are dying all the time you know. We just don't think about it, and we don't really think how totally insignificant our own deaths will be. If I had died, family and friends would have been sad, etc., but in the grander scheme of things nothing would change.

So today, riding to work down my favorite street, past that little loopy park on Colliseum. A car stops to let me by, and another car thinks he stops for her to turn. Crash boom. And my thought as I watch the pavement is "not again." Haven't I been careful? I've been biking around like a goddamned old lady, waiting forever for cars to pass, taking side roads with less traffic, and AGAIN I fuking get smashed. It was minor, and I laughed as people told me not to move. "oh," i thought, "if you only knew." A few scraps and a twisted tire. We got it all sorted out in an hour- new spokes and a ride to work. I'll now have matching scars on my elbows--one from each wreck.
And what relfection do I have now? What gives? I thought of all things I could at least ride a bicycle, but I am sort of questioning my capabilites to do anything. School has seemed harder as well. While everyone else was excelling at soccer, gymnastics, you name it, I could always breeze through school like nothing. So if I'm having trouble with that, what can I actually do? I've just been feeling very unproductive. I want a skill.

I didn't get that grant to go to asia, and I got hit again by a car. Something is going on. The universe is trying to tell me something and I'm just too thick to get it. Maybe it's trying to tell me I'm a shitty cyclist. Maybe I think too much and it complicates my head. Maybe I should get back to work now before I get fired...

mwah.

Why do you hate America?

my friend asks as i plot the next adventure.

I've come to terms with quite a few things in the past months. Living in a big apartment by my lonesome with no tv and no internet forces you to analyze stuff it's usually easy to avoid. And so now it is spring cleaning. Mentally and emotionally I'm back on track. No answers, really, but I remember my purpose. Granted I don't know how important it is or how it came about, but I stopped worrying about that. It feels great. So I'm doomed to be shoved around by the North wind- wandering wandering, but with a purpose.

Aside from my endless desire to flee the country- New Orleans has been wonderful. Mardi gras was spell of unexpected joy, doused with some anger- but it was positive. Good to get it out. mom's ball, drum circles, dancing and parading for 16 hours straight... yes yes. Love this city.

You know what that means? Time to leave and run away to asia!

Whee!!!!!!!!!

much love, much much pure love

well well

so.... perhaps you can tell by the near lack of writing since the end of the trip that the processing period has been rather empty...like, it hasn't really happened.

all sorts of wierd is going on, and will likely increase tremendously in the next weekend, but, hmm, i have hope

so- things are things
There is no cure for hot and cold.
and that is what i leave you with.
There is no cure for hot and cold.

florida

Florida. “Welcome home” they say at the port terminal. Really? welcome home.

I am overwhelmed and drowning. I don’t know that I can adequately describe how confusing everything is. I was in India for six weeks- home for maybe one and a half- and then back out. I haven’t been here an extended period since June. What is home?

So many people left the ship overjoyed. “It was the experience of a lifetime. I totally recommend it.” “Best time of my life.” “The ship was amazing.”
I remember a trip with a friend in Istanbul; I say she is an amazing and beautiful person. She replies, “Really? How do you know? I can’t see good now. I can see beauty, yes, but not good or bad.”
I’ve heard a lot of people describing the world as their playground.

I can’t say I didn’t have an amazing time- amazing in the sense of- well, I was amazed. But that doesn’t always mean fun. I wouldn’t want to leave this trip like, “Whee!!!! Fuck yeah I went crazy everywhere and had a blast.” Of course I had a great time many places, but the entire time I’ve been thinking-analyzing-reflecting. I think my eyes have been open for a while- but this trip did something more. Opened my heart? My energy? Coming ‘home’ is one of the most painful things I’ve ever done. Sorry to the rents. Aside from that, I don’t feel I have a home. The house is where my parents live, but I couldn’t move in there. Not now, not after everything. New Orleans is a home- unless nature decides to bury her in centuries of human neglect and inevitable change. On the flip side, I could go anywhere. I feel I could be dropped anywhere and survive. How is it I feel this way about the world, and not here?

End point: I have to process.

Traveling, looking around. So much beauty, but so much pain. I feel like I could do something- that inevitable feeling, as spiderman says, that with great power comes great responsibility. I don’t want to say that the world is my playground- as if I’m going to run around and tear shit up. The world is not here purely for my enjoyment. Of course, I will enjoy it. I will love it and roll in it and cry for it- but there needs to be a sense of care. I am compelled.

Let’s see where I am after a week of thought and meditation, shall we?

All these pictures came from Burma. Reflecting on my trip- my best pictures have come from Burma. Complete beauty. I felt-terrible at times-when I was there. I saw the pain. Looking back, I see the beauty. I wonder what I would find if I returned.

the journey

Dec. 4th/5th/why be a slave to time?

Learning. Someone shared the tale of a recovering druggie at home- this friend told him before he came on this voyage to learn, learn, learn. Not to have fun- to learn. Another girl shares her bout with clinical depression. She has learned again to love life, but realizes the value of walking through the dark. I see a lot of dark sometimes on this boat—but like I used to tell a friend, think of how much more powerful I will be at the end.

This trip has helped me to find my voice. I have realized I don’t know many things, but found strength to speak out about the things I do. I have questioned pretty much everything.

You know, this was planned out as a journal- a chronicle of my adventures to fill in all the folks back home. But I think I would bore you with a mere list- it wouldn’t do justice to my experience or your mental depth. Hope you don’t mind.

Pictures to come (in maybe a few weeks J )

Espana

LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!! As chris Langley used to say: rawr!

What have I learned? What has been the purpose of all this? Fun is a transitory and somewhat shallow emotion- what exceeded that? Croatia offered much time for contemplation- a quiet, wintry land. Spain- craziness. I realize once again that there are niches all over the world that I would love.

There is both exhilaration and fear that accompanies the realization: I can go anywhere and survive. I am a tiny person in a huge world. Everything is bigger than me and yet I am a part of it all.

I have so very much to learn, as do we all. Traveling simply increases the awareness of my own empty mind. Lord do I try to fill it, but the world is far too large. And so I have worked on my heart- keep it open, keep it full. Has it worked? I hope. Hope.


So for a while, Bowie has graced my mind: chchchchanges..turn and face the strange, chchchanges, pretty soon now your gonna get older, time may change me, but I can’t change time

Notes to self (and you): listen to more rage against the machine
Learn to tag
Dance
Don’t Worry, Be Happy

I’m so glad I’m not Milagro- so glad to be me.

Note to others: stop listening to others when they are negative. If someone tells you you can’t do something- it’s only impossible in their fearful reality, and that is an illusion. Ignore them to the fullest and find your own path. You are all birds, and you are free.


To catch up:

Croatia- swimming, islands, rock, wine, cheese, climbing

Spain- major art museums of Madrid- the Prado and Reina Sofia, complete lack of sleep, gitanos, bar fights (not me not me!), playgrounds, pubs clubs and discos, calimocho, rage, dreadlocks, rastas, lights, more gitanos!!!, flamenco, big skirts and tight pants, white suits, more wine, cathedrals of epic proportions, postcards, pigeons, milagro, and uh- trains? –oh, socialism too, god bless

dude.

so im coming in from island hopping in the adriatic- ya know, no biggie,- and i look to the left of the ferry. What do i see? THE MOTHER FUCKING GREENPEACE SHIP!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IVE BEEN DREAMING OF THIS SHIP AND STALKING GREENPEACE SINCE LIKE JUNIOR HIGH, AND NOW ITS RIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!!!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!
I hailed the captain and climbed aboard, and am headed back tomorrow for open ship time.

also- i went swimming for the first time ever! thanks to anyone who ever tried to teach me, but i guess all i needed was the salty adriatic sea, some wine, and some naked friends- whee!

much love

İstanbul rocks the casbah.

yeah! underground-euro-muslım-style-flaır-taste-musıc musıc musıc- brothels (boo)- magıc-m&ms-hassan- oh laura

sexıest people i,ve ever seen. hassan- ,looks lıke orlando bloom?, why aren,t ı wıth him now- because ı,m hangıng wıth a totally amazıng couple of artısts and freethınkers and soon theır frıends. They,ve taken me ın- offered to help me stay here ıf ı ever wanted to- to fınd a place and a job. Emre ıs an artıst- ozlem a beautıful spırıt of knowledge.

ı can tell thıs place has so much to come back to - the underground musıc scene- ---as we drıve by ,that ıs where the gypsıes lıve- ın the summer they dance all nıght., oh my oh my


party time

EGYPT

spiritual-pyramids-bedouin people-MUSIC-sheesha-mint-dance-veils-beauty-stillness-calm-meditative-transforming-spectacular

climbing around the dessert

chilling with a healer who has hosted the Grateful Dead- learning about the flower of life and the scent of chakras

drinking enough coffee and smoking enough sheesha that I almost can't eat for the tummy ache

learning so much about my self and my path that my life will never be the same...


more to come in turkey

Nutmeg, chocolate, and the Middle East

So- the first two really just refer to the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had- which I packed full of fresh, not-ground nutmeg and cinnamon from Kerala. Whoot.

The Middle East: We’re a few hours from our port, and tomorrow morning I’ll be headed toward Cairo. Holy shit. I feel magnetism toward this place. I’m quite unsure as to its source, but I’m really attracted to the middle east. I have all these constructs in my head- what an Egyptian marketplace will look like, how the pyramids will make me feel, and an idealized version I’m sure of Bedouins with gorgeous rugs and tents camping in the desert- and I’m excited to see my reaction to the realities of all these things.

I talked to the interport student about the possibility of camping with Bedouins—his response: “But your hands are too small. How will you drive the camel? It will be very hard-you need big hands.”

orielly, hate speech, and the middle east

We watched a documentary today in global media- how the US views Arabs, how we and others took Palestinian land, and why we support Israel.

It is hard for me to watch clips of Bill OReiley and FOX news. I don’t watch news television at home, unless it’s Democracy Now, and I don’t hang out with conservatives. To see the hate, the utter hate and evil that comes out of this man’s mouth is nothing short of repulsive to me. Then that repulsion turns to sadness, because I truly hate to think that any portion of the American public actually feels that way: that Arabs are all evil, that Islam hates freedom, and that all those “rats” deserve death.

I’m also processing the fact that I am incredibly drawn to Islamic culture and its peoples. When I think logically about this- I can’t relate to Islam at all. TOTAL submission to God? Not quite me. But I truly think I’ve come to this as a reaction to what has been submitted by my culture. To call Arabs “haters of freedom”, evil, and terrorists- well- these are all qualities I would attribute to the United States. What is terror? Is it bombing innocent civilians in the night to safeguard your economic interests? Is it attacking a people whose culture you find to be an assault on your God and your way of life? Couldn’t that last one be attributed to both sides in this ‘battle’?

Anyhow- I guess what I wanted to say is that 1) I’m shocked, deeply saddened, and disgusted with the way our mass media portrays the world, and 2) That I’m truly hoping to experience Middle Eastern culture in Egypt and Turkey-almost as a way of refuting the above. I want to find beautiful, kind people and take that hope to all the haters and say “look now! You’ve watched news but I’ve been there so let go of your damned animosity.”

I guess we’ll see what happens soon enough.

Eureka!

Ladies and gents- eudemonia is closing in (who knows when? Not I). Point is- it’s not so damn distant anymore. Social awkwardness is waning. Reiki master Amei hooked me up on that one. Slowly got pumped through the day- great convo with a professor- (hey! Surprise!! This ship is like a bubble of the American culture I flee in daily life- and I’m not the only one who realizes it. Finally. Satisfaction. Take that McGagger.) Continuing through the night- great yoga + Tibetan prayer bowls + my new outlook = such amazing vibrations my hands were warm when I finished using them (with meditation bowls of course- if you’ve never seen them check it out- ya gotta).

And I had the most amazing taste of ginger tea today. Think hot, sweet, tang, spice, warm…

Off to finish the realignment. Mwah!!!

SASafras

wow- so apparently uploading photos is REALLY SLOW and difficult on this computer- and now I'm out of time.

This was a little boy in Can Tho Vietnam, in the Mekong Delta. We played with lots of them for a while in their neighborhood. Note the black river behind him.

Return to India

Wow.

I needed to have fun. I couldn't follow Burma with more pain- so off we went. Me + two cool dudes- headed to Kerala.

I used to list off India- color, smoke, dirt--Rosemary would always say spice and I never thought why. Well wow.

Day one we flew into Cochin. Kerala is the richest state in India. No beggars, few hindus- christians, muslims, and hell- a jew town (even called Jew Town). We went around with Babu who took us to see the Chinese fishing nets amongst other things. Think of hugely elegant bamboo nets lowered in and out of the water via a pulley system.

Day two- on to Kumily. Town in the cardamom hills of South India- spice plantations- ginger, coffee, lemongrass, cinnamon, cloves...the scents filled the air everywhere. We did a short day hike in the Periyar Wildlife Refuge (tigers and elephants--neither of which we saw in the wild...). Later toured a spice plantation and rode an elephant. Beautiful people, beautiful children, beautiful land. Last night we slept in a tree house.

It was such a contrast to see that side of India. Rich, christian, beautiful. No cows in the street, no garbage in the gutters, no chai shops on the sidewalk. This country truly is everything.

But shabam- this morning we pulled into Madurai. It's hot- it's crowded- it's a city in India. Now I remember. Hello? Madam? Where are you going?

I still love it. Love hate.

Burma Pre-Port

Burma: Where the Buddha smiles on a monsoon of color.

Myanmar: Where a harsh military junta slays and tortures thousands of indigenous peoples every year; where est. 20,000 girls from hill tribe are SOLD to pimps in Thailand who will sell their bodies as “virgins” hundreds of times over- The girls are told they’re going to wash dishes.

These are the same country- the ethnically heterogeneous array of tribal peoples- ear and neck stretchers- lake peoples- monks- and the draconian government that crams it all together.

We are pulling up on this country now- the literal meaning of sea level has been made visually clear as we pass vast stretches of green, floating homes of natural fibers, and small boats whose owner’s must gaze at us in awe: “What on earth is that giant- moving so fast and soo very huge.”

Entering this river delta I find one of the most unique landscapes I could imagine. This morning the river was green- a splendid jade and the wake we turned up was brown- shallow river water. As the ship pulls in, tiny villages and water buffalo can be seen close by. In the distance: gold. For an impoverished nation, GOLD gilded pagodas dot the landscape with surprising frequency. The Schwedagon can be seen already from the ship- along with perhaps five others. We haven’t even approached the city yet.

Supposedly, these will be the most kindhearted amazing people we encounter. I have been drawn to this place since my early youth. Clothes tag: Made in Burma. Where the hell is that? Oh- and then the two page spread of Pagan. Well I’m headed there now. Tomorrow, perhaps, I’ll be on a plane. (This likely won’t make it to post until post- Burma, but I’ll write it now).

HK, Vietnam Part I

WOW WOW WOW!!!

So i thought HK rocked my world- which it totally did- but Vietnam- wow!!!

Last day HK---um---oh- park, market, turquoise ass-length wig, muslims, tai chi, rosemary, tsing tao, 7 eleven...


Okay, nam. Started in the worst mood- sprung into the best. THE PEOPLE HERE ARE AMAZING!!!! Polite, beautiful, fans of coffee, colorful, boat people, etc...

Day one- wandering, war museum, crazy night club. It is so amazing to see this place through my fresh eyes and yet know what it meant to so many people. I'm in the Mekong Delta now and I can't imagine fighting a war in a worse place. Think mud, poison, brush, everywhere. I can't really believe the nation has changed so much in so little time. Even hearing I'm from the US, they are still so amazing.

Last night I met Yom- I am the first foreigner he has ever talked to, but that night we went out with a motor cycle gang of six vietnamese + me and molly. He brought his english professors kids- a 9 and 13 year old- and the plumpest vietnamese kids I've seen at that.

I have just met so many amazing people by biking around this nation- they are interested. Hello! Who is this girl? She's big- but she's dressed like and Indian. Her shoes!?! Hello! The energy is so positive.

Also- today I saw an angel. There is little doubt in my mind she is an enlightened being. Clad in yellow, I looked up to see her in a fish market- barefoot- standing and starting straight at me. She approached some women who merely gave her the food she pointed to. A nun? She took my breath away.

much love from Can Tho....