that while we breathe, we hope

President Obama.

It feels good to form those words with my lips. I am somewhat stunned by the events of the past twenty-four hours and I'm not sure when it will sink in. So many of us were fighting for the cause, and now that it has been realized, what is next. The challenge is not over. It has only just begun.

How will it feel to have a spiritual president in office? A president who possesses intellect and compassion, wisdom and love? I believe Obama's presidency will shift the universal spirit of this world from a place of dark oblivion to an enlightened space of natural beauty. He has convinced the majority of the United States that his identity is not carried by the color of his skin, but the power of his words, not by soggy experience, but by renewed hope.

Last night the country rejoiced, the world rejoiced, the people rejoiced.

We will soon be made whole again.


This is our moment. This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.

- President-Elect Barack Obama

And a Hush Fell Over Us

Students with bags stuffed with books trample quietly in to the chapel, weary-eyed and slouching. They grab pillows and plop their bodies down to the ground, some more gracefully than others. We form a circular shape around the altar candles; our breath echoes back and forth between each other as we wait for the Taizé service to begin.

A single voice breaks through the silent anticipation. The voices around me gather me up, they soothe the wrinkles around my eyes, they massage my vocal chords until suddenly my voice is as pure as the one that began.

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

The soprano voice to my left reminds me of a blooming pale yellow daffodil. The softer voice to my left is like a soft autumn rain.

Then comes time for silence. The silence feels long today, but that is only because my body is sleep deprived and a struggle to maintain a balance between alertness and contemplative inner peace.

I think back to the many silences I endured at the ashram in Greece this past spring. Perhaps the most painful component of practicing silence in a group of meditative practitioners is you have no control over how long the silence will be. You hear the beginning bell and then you just have to wait...and wait...and wait... for a second bell to break the silence. It could last for ten minutes or it could last for four hours, but you must endure.

At first when I realized the lack of control I had, I found myself trying to fight the silence. I would try to count to ten with deep breaths, but I found I would often lose count before I got to seven. Finally I learned to release and to stop fighting the oppressive nature of the silence and instead embrace the silent energy of all of the people around me. I would breathe in and imagine everyone breathing in with me, filling my heart and igniting inside a single blue flame. As I exhaled, we would softly blow out the fire so the cycle could begin again.

The Taizé website (http://www.taize.fr/en) explains the importance of silence and meditative prayer:

Silence and love

Christ says: "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12). We need silence in order to welcome these words and put them into practice. When we are agitated and restless, we have so many arguments and reasons not to forgive and not to love too easily. But when we "have calmed and quieted our soul", these reasons turn out to be quite insignificant. Maybe we sometimes avoid silence, preferring whatever noise, words or distraction, because inner peace is a risky thing: it makes us empty and poor, disintegrates bitterness and leads us to the gift of ourselves. Silent and poor, our hearts are overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit, filled with an unconditional love. Silence is a humble yet secure path to loving.

The Spiritual Joys of Womanhood

I am involved as a mentor in Young Women Leaders Program (YWLP) at UVA in which a group of female university students gather with a group of 7th grade girls at a local middle school each week and engage in discussions and activities emphazing the amazing potential of feminine spirit. At least that's how I see the program...

I am a facilitator of one of the groups this year, and I make an extreme effort to focus on the hidden spirituality of developing into a woman. Because we have only had one mentoring group meeting so far, I don't know how many of my little and big sisters have actually picked up on this tone of my leadership while in group, but in the coming weeks, I hope to make it more obvious.

Why is the development of a girl to a woman a spiritual journey?

Because it takes courage. It takes strength. And it requires a girl to come up with a new version of who she is and what she believes.

In Words On Fire: One Woman's Journey into the Sacred, Vanessa Ochs tells of one Rabbi who founded a school for women to study Talmud in Jerusalem. Rabbi Brovender reveals, "Women's education has to do with creativity, sensitivity. Woman aren't constrained by studying legalisms. If they want to be, that's fine, but they can study other things. The test is not if women can learn like men, but if men will say, 'I wish we could learn like women.'"

The journey from girl to woman is one of great struggle and incredible learning. Not only does the transformation from girl to woman suggest that self-knowledge has been acquired, but also a new perspective of the world and one's place in the world is adopted. I agree with Rabbi Brovender that women learn through creative expression that taps into their inner sensitive souls.

Nayeli, my new little sister in the YWLP program, has already shown me so much about what it means to be on the quest for womanhood. While we were painting at a table under the trees on the Downtown Mall yesterday, she confided in me about the importance for honesty and kindness in day-to-day relationships.

It hurts me when I hear rumors, she said quietly, so that's why I always try to tell the truth.

I cannot wait to learn more from her. Even though I just turned twenty-one years old on Saturday, I still feel as though I am just now learning to embrace the spiritual joys of womanhood.

Natural Trust: Leaning on the Unknown

Proverbs 3: 5-6

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.


Today I attended Sunday Worship at Portico Church with a few friends. Today's service was the first time the people of the church came together in a new building and I could feel the energy pumping through the walls-- literally. There was a band and loud speakers and flat screens displaying multi-colored designs and lyrics to sing along to. The entire room was packed with eager young faces and as the lights dimmed and the guitar chords rang out, I felt strangely like I was at a rock concert instead of Sunday church.

At first I wondered, eyes wide, Is this really what it takes to get young people interested in GOD these days? God is not a video game, nor is he the latest entertainment fad. But then I started to look around to the people surrounding me.

In the middle of the audience there was a young, tall boy, with eyes closed, swaying to the music. His fist raised in the air, he was not watching the technicolor displays or metallic instruments on the stage. He was absorbed in something larger than himself. He was talking to someone who was listening. He was leaning on the unknown and trusting that it would support him.

What I've learned about God in my twenty years of life so far is that the divine presence does not coordinate with one's personal schedule. You can not pencil in your private date with God every Sunday morning as if you were scheduling a routine dental check-up. God will address you when you are ready. Where will you be when you give up trying to understand God and instead simply begin to know the divine spirit among all of us? It could be during a Christian Rock band performance on a Sunday morning or it could be as you crouch on the bathroom floor, leaning over the porcelain toilet on a rough Saturday night. Or it might never happen.

In every moment of my life, the deepest challenge I face is acknowledging the divine presence around me. Perhaps this is due to the fact that I do not like to be told which path to follow in life and thus by taking full control of my own life and relying solely on my own version of reality (or my own understandings of truth), I can lead a structured, secular life. I fill my life with abstractions and distractions so I am continually moving, writing, doing.

Yet, after a few days of living in auto-mode, I tend to break out and search for the sacred. I often gravitate towards the lush green of the outdoors and the fresh air of the woods. The one place that I do feel at peace to just be is in a quiet place outdoors, preferably by a natural body of water. There are many questions I would like to ask nature's spirits, but the only answer I need is the one holding me in place.

Immersed in nature, I trust in the divine, the unknown, and the impossible.

Catching Up Over Tarot Cards

“If something inside you is real, we will probably find it interesting, and it will probably be universal. So you must risk placing real emotion at the center of your work. Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Don’t worry about appearing sentimental. Worry about being unavailable; worry about being absent or fraudulent. Risk being unliked. Tell the truth as you understand it. If you’re a writer, you have a moral obligation to do this. And it is a revolutionary act—truth is always subversive.”

From Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Downtown Charlottesville on the last Friday afternoon of August appears... occupied. There are people everywhere: sitting on the wrought iron chairs of outdoor cafes, gathering around the purple Indian pashminas for sale at the street merchant's stalls, going in and coming out of diners whose insides smell like french fries and Mozzarella cheese.

This is my first time strolling down the brick-laden streets of the downtown mall during daylight hourse since last January, before I embarked on a semester of travel overseas. The street seems wider and the oak trees lining the mall seem taller. Do I belong in this town again? Do I know where I am?

I run into acquaintances, first a bohemian pair with inquiring eyes, and next a quirky girl who lived in my suite from first year. We stumble through our lines, trying to summarize what has made our lives real in the past few months, in the past year. I find myself suggesting a reunion, a coffee date, a time to really catch up. Of course we are too busy at this particular moment to delve into anything of substance, but that might all change with the presence of two steaming cappucinos. With skim milk of course.

I walk down to the end of mall, near the white peaks of the Pavillion. I stare at the pastel colored scribblings covering the Freedom of Speech Wall and think back to the time I spent all afternoon creating a chalky mural of paradise on my black driveway only to have it washed away by an evening thunderstorm.

Vote Obama. Monsters are invisible and sometimes suck a lot too. Jackie & Bryan forever. Let's go HOOS! Goodbye, Lover.

I wish I could be the person to sponge down the surface of the wall every day, once a day. Before I would wipe away each message, I might whisper it, barely audible, more air between my lips than sound. I wonder what it feels like to have the power to destroy expression, only to enable a fresh, new batch of creativity.

On my return stroll through the mall, I see the Tarot Card Reader and smile, because he has hardly changed since I first watched him three years ago. His mustache is still white and wiry, standing out bright against the dusty leather color of his face. He wears the pale denim button-up shirt which I recognize, even with a small bleach stain on his collar. No one is with him and so he waits, sitting cross-legged on the brick and staring down at the arrangement of cards in front of him. He need not invite people with his pupils, the ones whose souls are worth reading will be drawn to him anyway.

I feel myself being pulled slowly in his direction. I imagine myself walking over slowly and deliberately and squatting down. Might you read the cards for me?

The man transforms from stranger to friend in the time it takes him to lift his head and smooth his mustache. He concentrates as he turns and flips and counts the cards; I watch. He sighs, then smiles, then looks up at me.

We've got a lot of catching up to do.

Encounters With the Sacred

As part of my fall semester independent study project with Professor Vanessa Ochs entitled Encounters With the Sacred, I will be writing a few times each week in the LOTUS travelogue. Although my entries will be focused on internal journeys, rather than the cross-cultural travels of Southeast Asia previously detailed in this blog, I hope my words may be of some interest to others striving to look beyond the ordinary in their everyday lives.

Below is my personal mission statement for my Independent Study, which will serve as background for the future entries. Comments and critique is always welcome. Thank you for reading!

I believe leading a balanced life full of holistic experiences enables one to encounter the sacred. By learning to observe one’s environment and reflect upon the subtleties of one’s surroundings, one may learn to experience the sacred in ordinary situations. My goal in embarking on this independent study during my final year at the university is to investigate encounters with the sacred that occur during:
(1) spiritual pilgrimages or travel
(2) the pursuit for self knowledge
(3) altruistic endeavors

Spiritual Pilgrimages or Travel

While the mission of a spiritual pilgrimage is directly linked to encountering the sacred, travel itself can also result in some spiritual revelations and divine run-ins. In the past year I have traveled to three different continents and five different countries. The aim of my travels was not spiritual solitude, but rather transcending my comfort zone, meeting and helping a diverse group of people, and learning about other cultures. I plan to review and edit my travel journals and prepare a cohesive travelogue of my experiences, both the spiritual and the mundane. Upon reflection of these experiences, I hope to relive some of the encounters with the sacred that I had during my travels.

The Pursuit for Self Knowledge

Self-knowledge can be acquired through a multitude of activities, both personal and social. I will be focusing on self-knowledge through the form of introspection, as encouraged by psychologist Carl Jung. I will also be investigating whether one must “know thyself” before one can help others. Does a better understanding of the self alone lead to encounters with the sacred or is it the activities that are involved in the pursuit of self knowledge that lead to the sacred?

Altruistic Endeavors

Volunteering as part of a travel program or helping others informally out of the kindness of one’s heart is a way of encountering the sacred by forgetting about your own needs and desires and searching for the universal good. I will be reflecting on the type of people who are by nature altruistic and why I have always felt a desire to be involved positively in the community I am living in.


"We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out." --Ray Bradbury

Condo-quariums and Other Curious Sights

I saw a man selling fish on a stick today, right on the corner of Sukhumvit 26. I'm not talking grilled fish on skewers for hungry passersby. I mean vibrant live little fish, even turtles, all stacked up on top of each other, each in their own little plastic-baggie bubble. I'm not entirely sure how much he was charging for them, but he let me take a picture anyway. No sooner had I clicked the shutter, when he hoisted the pole and its plastic-baggie barnacles horizontally onto his shoulder and nonchalantly crossed the street as though unaware of the busy lunchtime traffic. I watched them cross, briefly picturing the surely curious scene of carnage that would ensue if they got hit by a car. Luckily no such scene unfolded before me and before I knew it, he was marching off on the opposite side of Sukhumvit, condo-quarium and its inhabitants bouncing along on his shoulder.


The other day, as I was walking down the BTS steps, I saw that the man ascending the same stairs was carefully balancing some odd white package in his hands. Only when I passed him did I realize he was carrying a turtle sans shell. I'm not entirely sure if it was dead or alive, but am afraid it was the former. It's not everyday you see someone carrying a turtle onto the Skytrain.

And then, just as I was walking down our little soi (still pondering about the turtle), I saw a tiny, fluffy white poodle riding a motorcycle. It wasn't in a basket or it's owner's arms, even. It was just standing on the motorcycle seat behind it's owner as they roared on down the soi. When they passed me, I noticed the poodle was wearing a black shirt and a spiked leather collar.

All I can say is... amazing Thailand.

A Different Sort of Adventure - Fun To Be Had By All

Some of you may be wondering why posts on the LOTUS travel blog have been slowly but surely dwindling in number. This is because Amber, Erin and I have all embarked on a new journey - one that is going to be long and arduous. There's going to be lots of early mornings and late nights, near-subsistence-type eating, some enlightening moments and plenty of really frustrating ones, and as always, lots of budgeting. With time, that is.

Yup, as many of you may know, the three of us were in Thailand to conduct academic research and now, the time has come for us to write our research papers!

Before Amber and Erin left Bangkok to return stateside, the three of us started sifting through the piles of reading material given to us by various organizations. Literally, there were piles - chunks of which we had to haul halfway 'round Northern Thailand and Luang Prabang. So, as college students do when confronted with copious amounts of probably-necessary reading material, we set off in search of places offering plenty of caffeine and comfy couches. Though I've now been left to continue this exploration alone, here are some of our finds:

1. Au Bon Pain: 1st Fl. Emporium Shopping Mall
This Au Bon Pain is located right next to Starbucks, and after much vacillating between the two - I soon learned that Au Bon serves cheaper Americanos and much fresher pastries. Tres 'bon', indeed. Plus, during the three weeks we were skipping around Northern Thailand, the cafe installed new, comfy leather-type armchairs. These new, bright red installations are great to read in and even greater for people-watching.
I generally catch the lunch crowd since my sleeping habits don't quite permit me to get up in time for the early birds. Yesterday as I stood in line to order, a German fellow in front of me was discussing the unhealthy, addictive effects of coffee with his Singaporean colleague. The Singaporean asked, "Hm - and what about tea?"
"Tea's okay"
"What kind of tea? Black tea? Green?"
"Any kind of tea", replied the German.
An awkward silence followed - the kind that comes when you realize you're not really saying anything at all.
"Hm, yes. I think coffee is just like drugs. It makes addiction. Not so good"
And meanwhile, here I was desperately waiting for them to move along so that I could get that first sip of scalding, bitter espresso onto my tongue.

An earlier day, Erin and I were in the middle of our usual quarter-life crisis, "what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life"-type conversations when a farang woman sidles into the booth next to us, her arm crooked around some little white bundle. Erin and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised. 'Is that what we think it is?'
She shifted towards us. We snuck glances. And indeed, it was an impossibly teeny-tiny baby squashed between her breast and the nook of her elbow. The new mother lifted the baby in front of her and, leaning forward, peered into its unopened eyes. This new being, just recently introduced into our world, was so premature that it almost didn't look human at all.
In low voices, Erin and I wondered whether these two should even be out of the hospital yet. It was even more worrisome when the mother lay the newborn right down on the booth seat, where people have rested their feet, their bums and left their pastry crumbs, to change its diaper. Then Erin told me about a beggar she'd seen on the steps of the BTS the previous day. This beggar woman also had an impossibly teeny-tiny newborn, laying like a doll in her lap. Erin said that everyone who passed them was just staring, unbelieving their eyes and relieving their pockets of spare change. We wondered about the conditions in which the beggar introduced her child to our world. That sufficiently ended our "what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life"-type conversation.

2. Dasa Book Cafe: Between Sukhumvit Sois 26 & 28.
As explained on the Dasa Book Cafe website, dasa means "slave" or "servant". So, for us book-lovers who are indeed slaves to the written word, this cozy, second-hand bookstore has a fantastic selection. There are travel guides, travel writing and general fiction, even a small section upstairs that has books in French, German and Japanese. Dasa also has great brownies. They're highly recommended - with whipped cream! Even greater about Dasa is that they don't seem to care whether or not you sit there all day nursing the same 40-baht pot of tea as you pore over the book you've decided to finish without having to actually buy it. Amber went back three consecutive days and managed to get through nearly two-thirds of The Alchemist!
You can also sell or exchange used books here for store credit or cash. I tried to do this today. Turns out they prefer paperbacks so, I got to lug three hulking hardback novels all the way back home.
Usually Dasa offers a nice, quiet environment for you to really relish in whatever you're reading. Unfortunately, I did not get so lucky today. Lately I've been on a travel essay kick (if you catch the first issue of LOTUS magazine, you'll see why!), so I was all ready to hunker down with my Thai iced tea and the three or four travel books I'd selected. Just as I was getting into The Lonely Planet Journeys: Brief Encounters*, four straggly American college students stumbled into the cafe. I knew they were American because to be honest, sometimes you just do. While I really tried to concentrate on the letters in front of me, I also tend to find amusement in eavesdropping on people speaking English when they think no one else does. So, for the next hour, I listened.

Guy with pink Polo shirt to girl with blue shirt: "Ohmygod, you have to read Up Country!"
Blue shirt girl: "Nah - I saw the movie!"
Pink Polo: "Uh - movie? This was not a movie... Are you thinking about the one with Charlize Theron in it?"
Blue Shirt: "Yeaah..."
Pink Polo: "That's "Something-else" Country. Yeah -that's Old Country."

Girl with backpacker headscarf, to no one in particular: "Ohhh, Madame BOVARY!"
Pink Polo & Blue Shirt, in unison: "Shhhh!"
Headscarf Girl: "I know, I'm loud. So, have you guys READ THIS?"

Pink Polo, disgusted look on face: "Ohmygod, this was the worst book ever. Never read it."
Headscarf Girl: "What is it?"
Pink Polo: "Heart of Darkness"

Blue Shirt: "Have you guys read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time?"
Headscarf Girl: "No, what's it about?"
Blue Shirt: "Well, it's kind of hard to explain. But it's like, about this autistic kid and this incident...with a dog... in the night-time."
(Note: I don't think this was a joke because no one laughed. Except me - silently in my head.)

Okay, so I realize my sad little exercise sounds horribly mean, but I've already come to terms with the fact that I'm probably going to be reborn as an ant in my next life anyway. Besides, before they left, Headscarf Girl used my table to violently scribble the name of a book title down, sending tiny seismic waves my way, without so much of an "Excuse me" or "Thank you for so kindly sharing your table with me". I kept shooting glares to the three of them above my book, but all were blissfully ignorant. I really wanted to surprise them by saying something to them in English, but sadly my neurons don't communicate so rapidly as to allow me to fire sharp, witty quips off the tip of my tongue. So, instead, I'm resigned to get out my frustration in writing, well past the expiry date of any of this being meaningful.

Okay, next.

3. Book Lounge: 4th Fl. Amarin Plaza
This new book outlet boasts having over 200,000 books and periodicals on it's banner, making it the "first biggest book outlet in Bangkok". Located on the 4th floor of the Amarin Plaza (near BTS Chidlom), it occupies the corner block of the floor, allowing great views of the bustling streets below. The bookstore has a decent selection of magazines and a large display of colourful coffee-table books on Thailand. There was also an ample Travel section that caught my interest, but upon closer inspection, turned out not to be entirely travel writing (unless I didn't read Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul closely enough - or maybe it's metaphorical). Sure enough, none of the sections turned out to offer exactly what I thought they would. For example, the "Fiction & Literature" section actually means "Fiction & Nonfiction". Needless to say, this occupies a majority of the bookstore. At first I found this frustrating, but then it got pretty fun. It reminded me of those little used bookstores in Chiang Mai (which almost have better categorization systems) where you never knew what treasures you'd discover.
The treasure I found was Louise Brown's Sex Slaves: The Trafficking of Women in Asia. Sounds like quite the gem, huh? This is what merely a year's dedication to a research topic can do to you. I have seen this Sex Slaves book in nearly every bookstore I've been to and every time, the book's covergirl would peer out at me with those hopeless eyes. I finally had to give it a good skim.
I sat down with the book in the Blue Cup Coffee shop, located right there in the Book Lounge. This coffee shop has great huge windows, more comfy sofas, and absolutely brutal, beautifully strong espresso drinks (which is why I was up until 2 am last night, drafting this blog entry). Apparently there's free True Wi-Fi too - though I never managed to connect on my iPod. Maybe next time. And there will be a next time. After perusing Sex Slaves, I found her arguments short-sighted enough to prevent me from spending 400 baht on it and callous enough to make me go back and read it for free at Blue Cup. But only if I really have nothing better to do.

4. Bookstore @ Bumrungrad Hospital's International Patient Center
This tiny bookstore, located next to Starbucks, is chock full of books for the diverse tastes of the various individuals who frequent Bumrungrad. There are the usual fiction/nonfiction, several anatomy, healthy lifestyle-type books, as well as a very multi-lingual periodicals section. I found a real treasure here called Wisdom of Whores: Bureaucrats, Brothels and the Business of AIDS by Elizabeth Pisani. It was worth every baht I paid for it and has so far been the best book I've read this summer. I keep telling everyone about this book, and I'm not gonna stop. To see why, check out Pisani's blog under 'Sites LOTUS Likes'.
This bookstore also holds sentimental value to me. It is where Erin and I first learned that Amber had contracted dengue fever. There we were, just reading away (actually, me heatedly quoting Pisani aloud to Erin while she tried to politely concentrate on her Digital Photography magazine) when I got an SMS from Amber. It said, "Yup, looks like I've got dengue". Lots of disbelief and a little laughter ensued. I say laughter because we were sure that if any one of us had to contract a disease from a mosquito, it'd be Erin. Anyway, Bumrungrad and medical tourism in Thailand is another blog entry in itself - but, to conclude, this is another great place to people-watch.

* Lonely Planet Journeys: Brief Encounters is a collection of stories about "love, sex & travel". Highly recommended because after all, "don't we agree that falling in love with a person is the surest way of falling in love with a place?"

Ohaiyo! Living in Little Tokyo

So, guess which city Travel + Leisure magazine voted the no. 1 Best City in the World this year?

Yup, that's right folks - Bangkok takes the cake, up two spots from last year and followed closely by Buenos Aires. The publication came out with this ruling only a few days ago and since, The Bangkok Post, among other periodicals, have gotten cries of protest and confusion - including from native Bangkokians themselves. Just today, a fellow wrote in suggesting his adopted hometown of Honolulu instead. Why Bangkok? It's sweltering, it's smoggy, it's smelly, it's got soi dogs everywhere, it's...Bangkok**.

To read more, see here: http://www.travelandleisure.com/worldsbest/2008/results.cfm?cat=cities

Though I've come to love Bangkok for everything that it is, I also am curious about the indicators used by Travel + Leisure. If they were calculating the best bang for a tourist buck (and really, I'm not talking about sex tourism here - though maybe I should be), I would understand. Bangkok has a little something for everyone - the best, and sometimes pieces of the worst, of all worlds. There's a sprawling Chinatown with authentic Chinese food, gold jewelery stores and supercheap wholesale markets. Little India has winding roads bursting with delicious Indian restaurants, Bollywood movie rentals and sari seamstresses. Early on Sukhumvit is Soi Arab, where Middle Eastern and North African men share shisha pipes, women (at the very least cover) their hair, and outdoor restaurants offer great, cheap Middle Eastern food. There's even a Little Tokyo. That's where I live.

Right on Soi 35, my house is right in the middle of Little Tokyo. This means I can pretty much get great, decently-priced sushi anytime I want. (Being a semi-strict vegetarian, some people may contest my barometer for "great" sushi.) Besides the multiple restaurants, the Little Tokyo neighbourhood is made complete with: Japanese bookstores, chock-full of manga, Japanese video rentals, Japanese dry cleaners, spas catered towards Japanese housewives, stores full of teeny, clever Japanese gadgets, and a Fuji, the major Japanese supermarket chain (not to be confused with Fuji, the major Japanese restaurant chain - which has great futo maki).


Walking the mere 350 metres from my front gate to the main road, I am temporarily transported. Mini song-taaews zoom past, within an inch of my life, transporting Japanese women and kids between Fuji and their service apartments. Japanese housewives push Hello Kitty strollers carrying adorable, pink-cheeked Japanese toddlers sporting Hermes baby booties. The Thai salesgirls yell at you upon entry into the NEO 50,60,70 Baht Shop, shouting something in Japanese that sounds like either, "WEL-come to the STORE!!!!" or "DON'T even think about shop-LIFTING!!!!" After work, Japanese businessmen sit and smoke outside the Fuji Coffeeshop, wearing shorts and sandals, proudly bearing severe sock tans from the previous weekend's golf outing. I start to feel that perhaps it isn't so shameful that I've transitted through the Tokyo Narita airport at least 10 times and have never actually been through Tokyo immigration and customs.
Getting closer to Sukhumvit though, Little Tokyo becomes even Littler London as I pass the popular Bull's Head Pub and the Robin Hood Pub. On down Sukhumvit, you can find Londoner's. All have posters boasting something - the coldest beer on tap, the best bangers & mash, the cheapest and longest happy hour in Bangkok.

So, like I said, there's a little something for everyone and surprisingly little gets lost in translation.

**Speaking of translation, Bangkok is not actually what most Thais call their capital city. Thais refer to Bangkok as Krung Thep, roughly meaning "The City of Angels". However, Bangkok holds a much earlier awarded no. 1 spot in the Guiness Book of World Records - for having the longest name for a geographic location.

The full ceremonial name is: Krung Thep Mahanakhon Amon Rattanakosin Mahinthara Ayuthaya Mahadilok Phop Noppharat Ratchathani Burirom Udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amon Piman Awatan Sathit Sakkathattiya Witsanukam Prasit.

This means something like: "The city of angels, the great city, the residence of the Emerald Buddha, the impregnable city (of Ayutthaya) of God Indra, the grand capital of the world endowed with nine precious gems, the happy city, abounding in an enormous Royal Palace that resembles the heavenly abode where reigns the reincarnated god, a city given by Indra and built by Vishnukarn" (thanks www.bangkok.com!).

A Final Goodbye to the Land of the Smiles

On the eve before departing the Kingdom of Thailand, I think back over the past two months and wonder if this country has changed me. There is a popular myth perpetuated in sex-pat literature as well as famous backpacker manifestos such as Alex Garland's The Beach that once you come to Thailand, you will return home a different person.  Am I a changed gal? Has the spicy food adapted my taste buds to a more adventurous palate? Have my journeys in tuk-tuk taxis made me less concerned about wearing a seat belt and more concerned about holding my breath as I pass through a cloud of pollution? Has my bout with Dengue fever taught me to appreciate my day-to-day health more? Or has living under the rule of a king fostered in me a deeper respect for authority...or perhaps community rule?

In my Social psychology course second year, I learned that Asian societies often embrace a collectivist mindset, while Western Societies emphasize the individual.  Looking around for the past two months, it appears this may indeed be true. 

Sara's mom jokes that she can always tell what day of the week it is by the color of shirt everyone is wearing.  Yesterday everyone wore yellow, in celebration of the moon god Phra Chan and today, there's a little more pink on the streets in celebration of the Mars god Phra Angkarn. Thus on Mondays, the Sky Train is a sea of polo shirts in various shades of juicy pineapple, while the park at dusk displays bright yellow running outfits.  The park also exhibits the collectivist spirit with its many group exercise classes, including Tai Chi or fan dancing.  Yesterday there was a special aerobic kickboxing class held in the back of the park, with about THREE HUNDRED participants of all different shapes and seizes.  As I jogged through the group continuing on the path, I felt somewhat out of place and part of me wanted to join in just to avoid feeling like an awkward outsider farang. One thing I have caught on to at the park is stopping for the national anthem twice a day if I happen to be exercising during the times  of 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. At these hour marks, everyone freezes in place and stands still as the loud speakers project the song of the kingdom. A similar nationalistic ritual is also repeated along with a visual representation of the king's biography before a movie is played at the theater. You better put your popcorn to the side and stand up because otherwise you could be arrested for disrespecting the King!

Despite the many collectivist trends in Thailand, this country has actually influenced me to be more alert as an individual. Perhaps it is my personal coping mechanism for dealing with the information overload in the sensual city of Bangkok, or the fact that my meditation practice has finally reached a place where I feel like something is actually happening (Ding!).  Whatever has caused my new sense of awareness, I plan to happily embrace it. Thus, rather than analyze whether this country has changed my individual self, I prefer to reminisce about the sights, sounds, and tastes that remain with me as I leave The Land of Smiles.

Thailand's Top Ten

1.) Sweet Smell of Taxi Altars. 

There is something simultaneously refreshing and comforting about crunching down into the leather seat of the taxi as the scent of the sweet flowers hanging from the rear view mirror floats into the back seat.  These flower offerings are meant to provide good luck in traffic jams; may your taxi dart and weave through the lanes without giving you too much whip lash. The more fragrant the smell, the more recent the taxi driver's shift has started, which is also a good indicator of his mood!

2.) The Floating Market.  This past Saturday, Erin and I

 finally got up before sunrise to make it to the morning Damnoen Saduak Market. Although the floating market scene has become quite touristy in recent years, there is something quite serene about seeing local people selling fresh fruits from a boat on the water. As we cruised by in our own motorized canoe, we were

 offered fresh mango, young green coconuts, silk fabrics, and tiny Buddha relics from the passing merchants. 

3.) Chang Beer. Nothing is better after walking around in the heat than sitting down under the fans at outdoor cafe with a glass of 80 Baht Chang Beer!

4.) Temple Cats. 

After seeing your eighteenth temple in Thailand, part of the allure begins to wear off.  When this begins to happen, it's time to turn your attention away from the gold spires and green buddhas and instead try to find the kitty cats wandering around through the temple grounds. I'm a strict believer that these kitties are all reincarnated Buddhas and should be highly revered. (Especially the one in the picture to the right; he's definitely busy doing some personal purification rituals.)

5.) Khun Visaka's Banana Trees.  The yard around Sara's house in Bangkok is full of fantastic hanging banana flowers.  Many of them are rare varieties which are not meant to be eaten, so they don't have to be cut.  Instead they just keep growing and one of them is about to reach the driveway. (It's about ten feet long now!)

6.) Thai Puppets!

This past Sunday night, the three of us were lucky enough to attend a traditional Thai puppet performance at the King Power Entertainment complex.  The puppet troupe was a group called Aksra Hoon Lakorn Lek, and they learned the technique from the world renowned  puppeteer Sakorn Yangkhieosod before he died one year ago.  The lost art of puppetry is being revived by this troupe with their puppets that seem to come alive on stage!  Each puppet is manipulated by three silent actors- one that moves the head and right arm, one that moves the left arm, and another which moves the legs.  Dressed in black, the puppet masters mimic the movements of the life-like puppet and together they are one.

7.) Buddhist philosophy. 

We found this sign (to the right) at a forest temple in Chiang Mai. Since the three of us are about to embark on the final year of our university career, we figured it was a pretty good lesson to keep in mind. 

8.) Cute couples. 

Although it is a common sight to see older farang men walking around hand-in-hand with a hired petite Asian women, there are also a lot of genuinely cute couples to be found in Thailand. My favorite ones are the young pairs sitting on a park bench sharing a styrofoam container of sticky Pad Thai. It's like an Asian version of the spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp!

9.) The Thai Wai.

One of the most graceful gestures I have seen during my travels abroad is the Wai, a traditional way in Thailand to show respect, gratitude, or greet another person. It is especially endearing when a small child bows his or her head to wai an older parent or friend. Even as a foreigner, many people have waied me wherever I go in Thailand, which makes me feel a little less out of place.

10.) Sky Train advertisements: Cha-Cha! 

Asian television advertisements are colorful and catchy--and everywhere you go! My favorite part of the Sky Train experience is standing with the glacial air-con blasting down on me and hearing the advertisement with three trendy Thai guys with swipes of black hair in their eyes jamming around the television screen of every BTS car advertising some sort of fruity drink.  It's bubbly, it's jumpy, it's the head bobbing Cha-Cha drink! I've never tried the drink, but the "CHA-CHA" tune is catchy enough to put a smile on my face for the rest of the day.  No wonder people are smiling all day long in this country. 

Arthus-Bertrand From Above

The work of French photographer Yann Arthus-Bertrand has been on display in the middle of Bangkok since June (part of La Fete, the annual French cultural festival. I don't know why it's in Bangkok, but hey, pourquoi pas?). The exhibition, entitled "Earth From Above", shares over thirty aerial portraits taken from all over the globe to remind us how truly beautiful, diverse and mysterious our planet is. Arthus-Bertrand (YAB, for short) created this project to raise our environmental awarenesses and engage in mindful behaviour for sustainable, eco-friendly development.

I read about this exhibit in the Bangkok Post weeks ago but never had the chance to go until yesterday. Amber and I were en route to Platinum, a multi-level wholesale clothing warehouse (this is another story) when we happened upon the "Earth from Above" exhibit right outside of Central World shopping mall. As we were walking off the BTS, we ourselves got an aerial portrait of "Earth from Above". It was curious to see these mindblowing photographs of nature's true wonders amidst the concrete, urban backdrop of one of Bangkok's busiest intersections.

The massive photographs, all original copies, were arranged around the fountain outside the Zen department store at Central World. Each photograph was accompanied with a description, in both English and Thai, about the place where it was taken and then a jaw-dropping factoid - such as, "The world's annual budget for military spending is USD 1000 billion. The figure for development aid is USD 60 billion"

Or, "It takes 1.8 tonnes of material to manufacture a personal computer"

And, "One out of five adults cannot read or write - 98% are from developing countries. Two-thirds are women"

Also, "If everyone was living and consuming as a French person does, we would need two more planets".

This last one threw me a bit - not because I think it's false, but because it makes me wonder why YAB chose to focus on the French. Bien sur, he is French and perhaps wants to share with his compatriots how they're complicit in this thing we're calling global warming. However, if we were all French and all had our own teeny cars (toys really) and we required two more planets - well jeez, how many planets would we need if everyone lived and consumed as Americans? That's what I want to know. Of course though, this would truly be a hypothetical situation because everyone knows that given the choice between the two, you'd want to live and consume as a French person ("consume", as in food, is the key word here). But really, no wonder we were so concerned about whether Pluto was a planet or not. Well, as you can see, this one little factoid got me thinking in a big way (though not an entirely constructive way).

Though the exhibit was simultaneously enlightening, infuriating and inspiring - the most enjoyable thing about the exhibit was seeing how many people were there. Thai schoolchildren, older European tourists, backpackers, young couples, groups of giggly teenage girls - you could just see it on their faces, that they too, were being enlightened, infuriated and inspired. There was one middle-aged Japanese man, armed with a wide-brimmed hat to fight the midday sun, who was copying every single factoid. He would shuffle, portable stool in hand, in between each set of photographs to sit and write down all the statistics about the state of our planet. I just hope everyone who was there took away at least one of the "Simple Actions You Can Take to Save Our Planet". If you don't know what some of these simple actions are, please see all eleven below.

1. Carpool or use public transport if possible.

2. Give your car a health-check and maintain it regularly.

3. Say "NO" to shopping bags whenever possible and reuse or recycle them (Note: Now in Thailand, you can buy fake versions of the popular handbag broadcasting, "I Am NOT a Plastic Bag").

4. Recycle and separate trash before disposal.

5. Always switch off lights and electrical appliances after use.

6. Change light bulbs to energy-saving bulbs.

7. Plant trees and greens.

8. Improve water management

(Another note: I love how Zen & Central World have this huge publicity campaign about "Going Green" surrounding the YAB exhibit - kudos to them. But they need to start practising what they preach and get rid of all their useless and wasteful fountains in front of the mall. Seriously. Water erupts in little spurts from holes in Zen's vast pavement garden out front, splattering the sidewalk and forming puddles that evaporate in the sun. The water isn't even reused like with regular fountains.)

9. Use paper only when necessary.

10. Reuse, recycle and reduce whenever possible.

11. Audit yourself and tell yourself that every little effort counts!


To read more about Yann Arthus-Bertrand and his work, go to: www.yannarthusbertrand.org

Yann Arthus-Bertrand, you're our hero! (Yes, I just alluded to Captain Planet).

To Elephant Camp I Go!

When I had to leave Luang Prabang to head back to Chiang Mai for a one day conference on human trafficking, I was very sad to say goodbye. I felt like I didn’t have adequate time to explore all that the city had to offer – and I only scratched the surface in discovering the beauty that defines Luang Prabang. However, I knew another journey awaited me and grew excited once again about the days ahead of me.

I checked into Julie’s guesthouse around midday and found my room in a back section of the guest house near the “garden,” which featured hammocks and a peaceful atmosphere to read, write and relax. Julie’s was a fascinating place to be, namely because of the anthropological studies that it lends itself to. The species that Sara has classified as “contemporary hippies” – she is well on her way to publishing her explanation and scientific documentation of this group – comprise the entirety of the demographic that flocks to Julie’s while visiting Chiang Mai. The usual styles were represented: headscarves, colorful (sometimes striped) baggy three quarter length pants, piercings (nose seems one of the most popular), dreadlocks/braids, and of course – the large backpack that all hip youngsters wear when traveling the world (*Note: If you would like more information about this species, please direct questions to Sara – she would be happy to answer your inquiries).

*Related Memory: We had a fun experience on the way to Lao with Sara’s body-size backpack in which she was climbing a hill after getting of the boat and found herself tumbling slowly backwards because of the weight of her backpack. I heard a tiny voice whispering, “Erin, Erin,” but wasn’t quick enough to lend a hand and pull her up the riverbank. Luckily, Amber was close by to hoist her up the hill. We had a good number of laughs about this for the remainder of the trip.

(*Back to Julie’s Guesthouse)

The “chill” atmosphere was comforting, but I decided that I had to find a source of entertainment for the next day – since the conference was still two days away. I narrowed my interests down to two options: white water rafting and interacting with elephants. I was torn for a good portion of the day, especially since the white water rafting trip that Amber and I went on in Ecuador was one of the best times of my life – watching her pound on the raft screaming, “My friend is stuck under the raft, she’s stuck, help her!” was priceless. It turned out I wasn’t stuck, but happily floating down the river with my toes pointed up, as instructed, after being tossed through the air due to a rapid that our guide assured us would not be a problem. He was pretty cool, despite the little white lies.

After mulling it over, I opted to see the elephants. I found a program that sounded perfect – Elephant Nature Camp (really Elephant Nature Park)! Though it cost more than other elephant adventures, I knew that I did not want to simply ride domesticated elephants, since I had become aware of the plight of Asian elephants upon arriving in Thailand. Instead, I wanted to learn why the elephant population has continued to drastically decrease over the years – and why so many elephants continue to be abused and treated as tourist attractions in a country that seems to revere them.

I signed up for Elephant Nature Park, and found myself on a bus the next day with strangers. Flashbacks to elementary school flooded my mind – and I worried about making friends on the 1.5 hr long bus ride. At lunch that same day, it really felt like elementary school, as I found my group’s table full, and was turned away – luckily, I was in the wild and already knew how to fend for myself. I found another table with some high school girls from New Mexico – and put on my best high school girl act, which consisted of many “oh my gods!” and “no ways!” They were very nice to adopt me.

I had an amazing day at the elephant park. I had no idea that I had chosen a famous conservation camp in Thailand. The founder of the camp, Sangduen "Lek" Chailert, is known globally as the “Elephant Whisperer,” due to her passion for rescuing abused Asian

elephants and nursing them back to health. I loved the story of how her passion developed – which began when her grandfather who was a traditional healer in her home village was awarded a baby elephant for his work. Lek grew to love the baby elephant and went on to found her own camp dedicated to Asian elephants. In addition to the camp, Lek has started “Elephant Haven,” which is a jungle sanctuary where elephants can go to experience life in the wild, and “Jumbo Express,” which is an outreach program that provides medical attention to elephants in need. After I learned about this woman and her accomplishments driven by heart, bravery and wisdom, I understood why Time Magazine named her a “Hero of Asia.”

Though I enjoyed feeding the elephants, bathing them in the nearby river and soaking up the energy of the vast landscape which seemed surreal as elephants traversed the land and formed the backdrop of an enchanted scene, I was most fortunate to have the experience to learn about the difficult situations still facing Asian elephants today. I learned of the cruel braking-in tactics used in northern villages of Thailand to force elephants into submission so they can be lucrative in the Tourist industry – details which are horrifying and I could barely stand to watch in the documentary shown that afternoon. Since elephants are not nationally protected and are considered livestock, individuals have the legal rights to treat them as such. It was a harsh reality, but I take comfort in the fact that activists such as Lek are fighting back to protect the rights of Asian elephants.

For more information about Elephant Nature Park, please visit: http://www.elephantnaturefoundation.org./

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Adventures of My (less than) Fashionable Farang Footwear

I've been conducting an informal cultural psychology experiment during my last few weeks in Thailand and Laos. My fractured right foot injury (from my time on the farm in Greece) has not fully healed and as a result, I find myself helplessly mismatched with one foot wearing a havaianas brown flip flop and the other sporting a boxy velcro-encased black surgical shoe, which is fondly referred to by my fellow traveling companions as the boot.

The boot is generally pretty easy-going and adaptable to a variety of environments. In Thailand, I have ridden the sky train of Bangkok, walked the dusty streets of Chiang Rai, and bent down to remove the boot before entering the golden temples. Despite parading the boot proudly, the Thais try to seem as though they do not notice the strange appearance of my less than fashionable farang footwear. If a Thai family turns in my direction at the scratchy sound of the boot's velcro straps being peeled apart at the steps of a venerable temple, they quickly avert their eyes and pretend nothing is out of the ordinary. No one asks me what happened to my foot. No one laughs or giggles into their cupped palms. The Thais accept that whatever has caused me to wear this shoe is a private matter that should not receive recognition nor should it illicit conversation.

I immediately noticed a difference in Lao. Upon arrival at our first guesthouse in Luang Prabang, one younger woman and her friend sitting at the computers in the lobby were chuckling and looking down at my foot. She tapped me on the shoulder, "Excuse me, madam. Why you wear different shoes?" I explained that I broke my foot and motioned with my two fists that I was cracking a stick in half. Her eyes widened and she smiled. "Very good, Miss," was the only reply she offered as she turned back toward the computer screen.

The chlidren of Luang Prabang also were much more obviosuly curious about the boot. A group of young monks stared at my foot at the summit of Mount Phousi one morning, probably wondering how I climbed the 328 steps up the mountain in such strange shoes. As I passed by the Childen's Cultural Center of Luang Prabang, kids call out as I walk by in the boot. One little boy stuffing curly noodles into his mouth looked quite alarmed. Another boy jumps up and down like a sugar-high monkey pointing at my foot. They don't mean to tease me, they just don't see a reason to contain their outbursts. I look back at them, flashing a confident smile their way. "It's okay!" I call out, "Don't worry!"

In Lao there is a popular phrase, Bo pen ngiang, which translated means something like, "it doesn't matter." Although it is sometimes interpreted to have fatalistic undertones, in my opinion this phrase embodies the freedom that Lao culture and its social norms afford its people. If a Lao child notices something, he or she is encouraged to point it out. Curiousity is the predecessor to revelations. Many shop owners or Lao students will approach me with questions about America, in the hope of practicing their English.

Whereas in Thailand, there is often a sense of societal restraint based on the concept of not losing face, in Lao, it seems as though people are more concerned with not losing a single opportunity to observe and learn. Perhaps this will change in the coming influence as Western influence continues to enter small charming towns like Luang Prabang, but for now there is something very refreshing about the curious appetite of the Lao people.

I hope to return to Lao again someday soon to have more conversations and learn more from its people. 

After all, this boot was made for walking, and that's just what it'll do.

Good Morning, Luang Prabang!

Lately the LOTUS travelers have been lagging a little in updating our blog - but for very good reason. We're falling head over heels in love - with Luang Prabang, that is. For the last four days, we've been sleeping, eating, reading, sightseeing and exploring Luang Prabang - the northern gem of Laos. Trying to soak in as much of LP as possible, we've discovered the wonder of waking up early (who knew?!) and leisurely savouring the city.

On our first morning in LP, the three of us awoke after a slightly cramped, though comfortable, night's sleep at the ThanaBoun guesthouse. (Our room being a last minute booking from the previous afternoon, the only free space they could offer us was one double bed for the three of us.) I woke up especially early that morning, eager to start my mission - to find the best croissant in Luang Prabang. In fact, I woke up about three times during the night with visions of buttery, flaky croissants dancing in my head. I remember the croissants in Luang Prabang being so tasty, I honestly could not recall eating any other food I had when I was here two years ago. So, by 7:30 am, I couldn't stand it anymore so I gingerly crawled out of bed to commence my gustatory adventure.

We began at the 3 Nagas hotel/restaurant which serves breakfast in its outdoor cafe. Though the $2.20 price tag for their homemade jam put us off a bit, we ordered it anyway with our three croissants. And oh MAN, were these croissants. None of that airy, dry, Bisquicked, crescent-shaped crap they call croissants in America. This was the real deal - a crisp, flaky golden shell encasing soft, warm layers of densely buttered chewy dough. With the homemade blackberry jam and marmalade - it was perfect. The pot of Lao coffee I got with breakfast had enough caffeine to shake my bones until dinnertime. All in all, a great start for my exploratory study of the Luang Prabang puff pastries.
Next on our agenda for the morning was booking plane tickets back to Chiang Mai and finding another, hopefully cheaper, guesthouse than the ThanaBoun. Naturally, we got lucky finding a room at the Croissant d'Or guesthouse and restaurant. What better place to sleep than in a place called the Golden Croissant? Located down Sisavavong Rd., it was about 50,000 kip (about 8,700 kip = 1 dollar) cheaper and had super soft beds. Plus, there was free Internet. Next, we booked tickets back to Chiang Mai with a very sweet and helpful agent nicknamed Ms. Ice. Unfortunately, we discovered that Lao airlines is very finicky and did not offer flights on Wednesday, June 25th, when we were hoping to go back to Chiang Mai. So, we could only book a flight out on June 26th and stay another day in Luang Prabang. Oh shucks, so disappointing.

Our second morning, we woke up extra early to catch a glimpse of the monks collecting alms on the main road. By the time we had actually gotten out of bed and gotten dressed (6:05 am), we had already missed it. None of us were feeling sleepy any longer so we all went on little walks. Amber climbed up Mt. Phousi to see the morning sun creep above Luang Prabang. Erin caught up with her journal in the Croissant d'Or coffeeshop. I found Big Brother Mouse - an organization/library with a mission to get more Lao/English books to Lao kids. We then reconvened for breakfast at Le Cafe et Restaurant Ban Vat Sene. 
Le Cafe et Restaurant Ban Vat Sene is located across the street from the Luang Prabang School and La Salle Francophone. We had passed it walking around Sisavavong Rd. many times but had not yet had a chance to try their food. So, this morning, Amber and I each ordered one of the two different types of pain perdu they offered - pain perdu a la vanille and pain perdu aux deux compotes (mulberry and pineapple). The vanilla pain perdu came lightly dusted with raw sugar while the other was drizzled with a sweet, slightly tangy compote with chunks of papaya, pineapple and mulberry. The bread was so soft and absolutely melted on the tongue - the consistency more like bread pudding than French toast. After she took the first bite into her mouth, Amber looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I'm in heaven. It's like I'm an angel. I'm an angel and I'm eating clouds". It was love at first bite. Nous etions perdu dans nos pains perdus.
After another unforgettable breakfast, we were grateful we had woken up early. It was only 9:30 am so we had tons of time to figure out what we wanted to do for the day. I dropped off my dirty laundry at a place nearby that charges 10,000 kip per kilo and gets it back to you in four hours. I think the Korean laundromats in the states need to take a cue from their Lao counterparts. Then we organised a tuk tuk to take us to the Thad Sae waterfalls. 
This morning, once again, we woke up ultra early tosee the procession of monks make their alms collecting rounds throughout the heart of LP. This time, we made it - literally jumping out of bed, into proper clothes, and out the door. Just down the street, we could make out a line of orange robes stretching down the street - each monk only stopping briefly to allow alms-givers to place their offering in the monk's bowl. Many LP citizens were sitting on the sidewalk to give their daily offering - heads bowed and generous hands outstretched with bags of curries, sticky rice and sweets. There was another kind of people present in the morning ritual that ruined the serenity - tourist photogs clicking away, trying to capture this component of Lao culture. More on this later, I think this entry is getting quite long enough. The alms rounds only took about ten minutes (much shorter than last time I was here - which took about 40 minutes) so, I sat in the early bird Cafe des Arts with a delicious cappucino in hand - wondering where to get my next croissant fix.

Flexibility in World Traveling

On Tuesday, the LOTUS gang left the quiet and pleasantly surprising serene city of Chiang Rai for an ever more calm destination known as Mae Sai, a border town between Thailand and Myanmar. Before we arrived, we endured a bus ride that reminded me of an entry I once read in the Guinness Book of World Records. In this article, a group of friends banded together to break the existing record for the number of people that had been crammed into a Volkswagen Beetle, or "Bug." Although our bus was a lot larger than a "Bug," this only meant that more people could be squeezed onto it. With each new person that hopped on at the designated roadway stops, I imagined a huge air balloon that was at maximum capacity - just waiting to pop. At one point, a woman was practically sitting in my lap because there was barely any room to stand, let alone sit, on the bus. Just when it seemed we were packed to the brim, a family of three jumped on and nestled their way in between Amber and the window - a space that was already cramped with two huge cardboard boxes that forced one man to choose another seat so he would still have his legs at the end of the journey. I snickered to myself as I witnessed Amber's reaction to this incredibly flexible family, who actually managed to twist their bodies into the small space. I was incredibly lucky to have chosen the seat closest to the back door - 

probably the only seat that received any fresh air whatsoever.

After the bus ride, we dragged our luggage onto a song tao and departed for our meeting with members of an organization entitled Development and Education Programme for Daughters and Communities - DEPDC for short. As soon as we entered DEPDC's Mae Sai branch, I became captivated by the young children who ran around the center with huge playful smiles on their faces. We were warmly welcomed and received many adorable, "sawadee ka" greetings from cute little girls.

We learned more about DEPDC and its various programs which target children who are at risk of being sex trafficked - offering them a safe shelter, education, healthy meals, vocational/life skills training and more. We enjoyed walking around the center, visiting classrooms and open spaces which were filled with children playing soccer, jumping over ropes, and laughing to each other.

We met volunteers at DEPDC who offered to transport us back into town - a relief since we were worried about finding a song tao in the remote location and envisioned an interesting walk back to town with all of our luggage. Amber and I thought we were so smart to share a suitcase - which is massive and I have to sit on every morning to close- but realized about halfway through the trip that perhaps backpacks would have been the better option. We threw our huge bags into the van, and happily joined the DEPDC volunteers for lunch. Laura, a volunteer from Canada, escorted us to our guest house when we were finished eating, pointing out the best places to eat (and which ones to avoid) as well as the main shopping street.

After checking in, Amber and I headed out for some exploring and shopping, while Sara headed to the internet cafe to write emails and research future traveling plans. We walked up the main street and found countless elephants carvings made from jade (my obsessive compulsive disorder kicked in and I had to compare prices of elephants at every stall - not the fondest memory), stunning jewelry (stay away from the light!), handmade tapestries in every size and color from Myanmar and loads of other goodies which held our attention throughout the afternoon. I purchased a jade earring and necklace set, two jade elephants, and a tapestry which Amber labeled "too glitzy" - but I found just riiiight. The tapestry purchase was a nerve racking ordeal, in which four shop workers surrounded me, throwing different colored hangings in my direction saying, "good deal, good deal." I usually crack under such pressure, but stood my ground and searched through the wide assortment of tapestries until I found one that spoke to me. After what seemed like another hour of bargaining I walked out of the shop, tapestry in hand and vision of it hanging in my future house. Amber forewarned me about buying the tapestry, reminding me of the limited space we had in our suitcase. I only realized later just how obnoxious it is to carry that thing from city to city. Next stop: Luang Prabang, Laos. At least my tapestry is seeing the world..

Power to the Panties! Panty is Democracy!

These phrases, among many others, were scrawled on the walls of the Can Do bar we visited last night. The Can Do Bar is one of a kind - the first entertainment, or "expertainment", venue owned and operated by commercial sex workers. Located on Chiang Mai Land Rd., the bar also houses the EMPOWER foundation's Chiang Mai office. To learn more about EMPOWER and it's "bad girls", check out: http://www.empowerfoundation.org/. Basically it is an organization working to promote the health and human rights of commercial sex workers in Thailand. EMPOWER's message is that commercial sex workers don't need to be victimized, moralized or pitied, thank you very much. What they really deserve are equal rights and opportunities, just like everyone else.

We first encountered EMPOWER when we were back in Charlottesville, contacting organizations we wanted to meet with as part of our research. We received a reply from EMPOWER's office in Bangkok that bluntly asked us why we wanted to come all the way to Thailand to research the commercial sex industry and it's constituents. Their response was roughly along the lines of, "You have a commercial sex industry in America too, you know. Human trafficking is a problem in America too, you know". This email put us in our place - rightly so. Why were we so keen to study problems in other parts of the world, and not our own? What was so captivating about the "bongo bongo" and why did we think we could even begin to help solve their society's shortcomings? Well, we didn't have the answers to these questions (we still don't), but we did know that we definitely had to visit EMPOWER.

So, a 60 baht tuk-tuk ride from Chiang Mai's inner city brought us to the Can Do Bar. Difficult to spot among the karaoke bars with flashing neon signs, we finally spotted the place. After being graciously ushered inside, we were informed that there would be a drama show that night. We soon learned that a Thai health organization of some sort would be visiting the bar also, to see this drama about the occupational hazards in the Thai commercial sex industry. Within minutes of getting our drinks, the folks from the organization trickled in, eventually filling the first floor to full capacity. While eagerly awaiting the show, we met an Australian woman who was volunteering with EMPOWER for six months. Four months into her stay, she had a lot to share with us about working with EMPOWER, EMPOWER's activities and the situation for commercial sex workers in Australia.

Soon the drama started. Two women dressed in air hostess outfits re-enacted the safety procedures for passengers on airplanes, but a la the Thai commercial sex industry. One example was the special suit a commercial sex worker (CSW)should wear in the case of emergencies. The suit was a hot pink bikini, tied around the neck, with a whistle attached for emergencies. There were also ten-inch platform boots involved. The show garnered much applause and even more laughs.

Afterwards, everyone got a tour of the upper floors of the bar. These floors had classrooms for teaching English and Thai, health awareness or computer classes. EMPOWER also teaches women from minority communities (such as Burmese ethnic communities, northern hill tribes, Lao migrants, etc.) their basic human rights, applicable everywhere even if they are living or working illegally in Thailand. There was a mannequin dressed in a skirt made of condoms. Posters covered the walls, listing the assumptions people make if you're a commercial sex worker or even just a woman. There are also a few two-foot tall papier-mache dolls standing around the room.

These dolls were made by migrants as part of the recent "Labour Sans Frontieres" project EMPOWER started in 2004. Migrants made these dolls to represent their dreams to travel freely, which many cannot actualise due to Thai labour laws and fears of being deported or detained in an International Detention Centre. So instead, these dolls are able to move for these migrant sex workers - around Thailand, around Southeast Asia, and around the world - until they can.

After our tour, we chatted for a bit with our new Australian friend. We discussed how commercial sex workers are treated around the world, but particularly in Thailand. We were told that EMPOWER's well, powerful stance on sex worker's rights is necessary because so often are sex workers weakened, victimised, demoralised or scrutinised by media, researchers, government officials, public health agencies, and many more. Outsiders tend to think that these poor women were "economically coerced" into shamefully selling their bodies because they had nothing else to sell. But this volunteer, a former sex worker herself, said, "Well, isn't everyone economically coerced into their job?" I suggested that EMPOWER should organize media workshops with local journalists so that the media may discuss the commercial sex industry with more sensitivity.
Because we had to get up early the next morning, we decided to call it a night at around 11 pm. We were glad to have met all the wonderful, friendly and fantastic women at the Can Do Bar. The night was certainly an eye-opener and helped us get a better understanding of the multiple dimensions within the Thai commercial sex industry.

The next morning, we went to a different sort of awareness-raising activity at the Chiang Mai University. Sunday was designated as a "Day of Mindfulness", organized by the Green Papaya Sangha and Thais following in the tradition of Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh. Venerable Thay and many fellow Plum village monks and nuns were in Chiang Mai last summer to lead a week-long retreat. This was a sort of mini-reunion to remember his teachings and get a chance to raise our own spiritual awareness.

A group of about 20 of us sat underneath an open-air pagoda at the Sala Dham on campus. We started with a few deep breaths and calling of the bells (it's a Thich Nhat Hanh thing) before starting to meditate more seriously. A participating couple had decided to bring their two young sons with them. They kept making a lot of distracting noises which at first I found really annoying. But then, I knew that Thich Nhat Hanh would tell me to think of their high-pitched calls for Mommy as "bells of mindfulness". And so instead, I began to listen to the sound of the first day's rain, softly falling all around us. After the first sitting meditation session, we listened to a dhamma teaching on Enlightenment by Venerable Thay. Then - it was mindful lunch time!

Mindful eating means that we are fully aware of what and how we are eating. Are we eating foods that directly are relating to the suffering of other sentient beings (thanks, Karen Lang!)? Are we aware that we are eating - or just chewing mindlessly as we watch the television? How does the food breakdown in your mouth - can you feel the morsels moving across your tongue and under your teeth? Needless to say, it can take a good 3-4 minutes to finish chewing and swallowing one bite of khao pad. But boy, you sure do enjoy that one bite!

Unfortunately we had to leave the event early since we had to catch a bus to Chiang Rai. But all in all, it was certainly an enlightening weekend, in more ways than one. I was inspired to re-start my mindfulness meditation practice on the 3-hr. bus ride, also because I left my iPod in Bangkok. However, it soon became difficult to concentrate because the bus stewardess popped in the most horrible French pirate movie I have ever seen (not that I've seen many French pirate movies - nor, now, do I plan to) - dubbed in Thai, mind you. It was so bad in fact, that I could not not watch it. But soon, it was over and I was able to enjoy the rest of the ride. I tried to return to my meditation practice as I watched the beautiful misty mountains pass by. The scenery was so hypnotically gorgeous that I fell asleep, dreamily drooling on my neighbour.