Jamison’s Misadventures In Asia

I have arrived at my final day in Yuxi, the ’small town’ that Brian Herman has been living in for the past six months. The ’small town’ deserves quotation marks because Yuxi is a city of 500,000 people, with a few high rises and a few more on the way. By Chinese standards, this is a ’small town’. My time here in Yuxi has been relaxing and has provided me with a chance to acclimate myself to China’s culture and its weather, which is pretty chilly by my Thai standards. I have also had to make a difficult adjustment from receiving Thai massages to receiving Chinese massages, but I’m getting by. Yesterday, I went to the traditional medicine hospital to receive accupuncture on my back. I was accompanied by Herman and his friend Andrew. We wandered through the hospital until finding the Accupuncture and Massage ward. Andrew explained to the doctor what I wanted and within a minute he had me on the table and was sending 10 needles into various spots in my back, some as far as an inch deep. The doctor then moved to attach electric wires to the needles for further stimulus. I asked Andrew to tell him that I was scared of the electricity, and despite some sadistic hesitation, Andrew passed on the message. Yuxi is a tobacco town. One of the country’s largest cigarette manufacturers is based here, and Yuxi has this company to thank for making it a wealthy town, both clean and well-endowed with beautiful parks. The company headquarters are located on the hill beside Herman’s school, and a monument of 8 golden cigarettes stands in front of the building. Across from the headquarters, the company has built a park, which educates visitors on the history of tobacco, dating back to the Native Americans and following the industry’s growth through colonial Virginia up to the present. There are also statues of famous smokers placed throughout the park–Mark Twain is among them. Herman’s school is set on a hillside overlooking the city. From his fifth floor apartment, one can see the growing skyline, hills in the distance, and a beautiful sunset. At the top of the hill stands the Red Pagoda, Yuxi’s most famous landmark.

As I am told, the Pagoda was originally white, but when the Communists took power, students at the college painted it red. And red it stays.

It’s been three months since my last posting, and in that time I’ve been to some new places and done plenty of different things.  I’ll let you taste some slices of the cake that was my summer….

Issan Travels

I travelled to Issan (the Northeast) twice this summer.  In my first trip, I visited Lindsey at her site before heading down to Big Rob’s site for an English Camp with high school students. 

Rob asked me to prepare some activities for the camp and informed me that these students had strong language skills.  Pulling my own weight, I arrived with two hour-long activities prepared only to find that Rob had nothing planned.  I was not the slightest bit bothered or surprised by this situation, for I was mostly just excited to try out my ‘Yoshimi’ lesson. 

I had been waiting for the proper opportunity to teach a listening activity using The Flaming Lips’ song, ‘Yoshimi Battle The Pink Robots’.  I had yet to encounter students whose English comprehension was developed enough to keep up with the song, but I thought this camp might be my chance, since Rob had assured me that these students were sharp.

Rob was wrong.  The Yoshimi activity was slow out of the gates–the students could barely understand the song, though with some translations and repeated listens, the students began to appreciate ‘Yoshimi’.  Before long, they were  singing along, arm in arm.  We capped off the activity by having the students draw posters depicting the song.  My favorite poster of the bunch now hangs in my room and features robots sporting pink heart underwear. 

Phi Tha Khon Mask Festival

At the beginning of July, I travelled to Loei province to attend the Phi Tha Khon Mask Festival in Dan Sai.  The Phi Tha Khon festival is unlike any other cultural event in Thailand and is only celebrated in the small town of Dan Sai.  The festival is rooted in a mix of Buddhist and local folk beliefs and takes place over three days.

I travelled to Dan Sai on the famed Chiang Rai–Nakhon Phanom busline, or as Jiggles calls it, the murder bus.  If one travels the entire length of the route, the trip would be more than 18 hours long.  Unfortunately, this bus company is not as adept in maintenance and quality control as some of its competitors.  To top it off, this bus is commonly filled beyond capacity, with people lining the center aisle, either standing, or sitting on the ground. 

The first seven hours of the trip went pretty well, mostly because the bus was not full.  Each stop along the way meant more passengers boarding, but it wasn’t until we reached Phitsanulok, a major crossroads, that the bus became reached seated capacity.  I sat in the last row on the left side of the bus.  I was not seated at the extreme rear–there was a bench in the back that had a center seat and two seats on the right.  An empty space for storage was directly behind my seat. 

At Phitsanulok, a family of five boarded the bus and filled the bench seat in the rear.  There were three adults and two small children.  Soon after we departed from Phitsanulok, the rocking of the bus carried me into a light sleep, the back of my reclined chair bouncing with each bump in the road.

Do you know those dreams where you’re falling, feeling every sensation of the drop, only to jolt awake and find yourself safe in your bed?  Early in the morning, riding the bus to Dan Sai, I experienced the exact opposite of the ‘falling dream’.  I was in the midst of a forgettable dream when I was jolted awake by the sensation of falling.  And falling I was.  The back of my chair had given under my weight and the repeated bouncing motion of the bus.  I was able to stop my momentum before I hit anything, but the back of the chair fell freely.

Bewildered, I turned around in to find the woman behind me attending to the child across her lap with a look of concern.  The back of the chair rested touching her thigh, not quite reaching the floor, being still loosely connected to its base.  Apparently the chair had hit the head of the small child, who I would guess was between one and two years old.  The child was out cold, and the mother was shaking him to try to wake him up.  The mother was undoubtedly worried about the kid, but she was not reacting with the urgency or hysteria that one might expect from a parent of a child who just received a head blow a chair falling underneath the weight of a 200 pound man. 

I lifted the back of the chair up, and with the assistance of the man seated beside me, held it in place.  I was in an awkward and uncomfortable position, twisting myself around to hold the chair up.  I let go of my side, confident that the man next to me could hold the back up while I readjusted myself.  Inexplicably, he let go of the chair soon after I did, so it fell backwards again, hitting the kid in the head, again.

To this second blow, the family reacted with looks of shock and disbelief, that, could they be translated into words, would most likely have said, ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’.  At this point, they were slapping the boy on his cheeks, and he was responding and seemed to be okay.  Apparently he was just a heavy sleeper.  It was only another five minutes to my destination, so we laid the back of the chair down, away from the mother and her child, and I left the bus in an outpouring of apologies and sheepish looks. 

Despite the rough start to my weekend, the Phi Tha Khon festival was a fun weekend, filled with masked Thai people drunkenly dancing in parades, on stage, and endlessly around a temple.  The dancing became less coordinated though perhaps more spirited as the weekend wore on.  On our final evening in Dan Sai, I graced the festival stage for a fine karaoke performance along with Tex, a PCV from the new group that arrived in January.  We were accompanied by a group of ten year old girls who were dressed in traditional Thai garments and danced in the background while we sang ‘Like A Prayer’.  Tex served as choreographer for our second set of dancers, a bunch of kids donning Phi Tha Khon masks and costumes.  Despite my poor vocal performance, the masked kids brought ‘Against All Odds’ to life, and they finished the song with a beautifully synchronized twirl move.

Up Next

There are plenty more stories from the summer, such as my failed attempt to compete in an air guitar contest at a bar in Bangkok or my five-hour long mission to secure a case of precious BeerLao Dark, but it’s time for me to bring this posting to close.  Tomorrow my friend, Carolyn, and I head to Malaysia for ten days, with Ryan and Jordan joining us on Friday.  Soon after our arrival in Kota Kinabalu, we plan to climb Mount Kinabalu, then head to the beach for some diving and relaxing.  We’ll hit Kuala Lumpur for two nights before we head back to Bangkok. 

I hope everyone is doing well and had an enjoyable Labor Day weekend.  If I haven’t heard from you in a while, drop a quick hello email and let me know what you’re up to.  Be sure to get out and support the A’s down the stretch.

Hello Folks.  It’s been a while, and I apologize for the delay.  I’ve been busy lately, so catching up on the blog sort of fell to the wayside. 

Enough of that.  Here we go.  I last left off in early April, awaiting the oncoming arrival of my brother and a visit from Andi as well.  A couple days before Jeff arrived, I headed down to Bangkok to visit my host family who lives in a neighboring province.  My host uncle was having a party to celebrate the completion of his new house, so I had the chance to see most of my friends and family from the old neighborhood.  It felt strange to sleep in my old bedroom and realize how much time had passed since I lived there.

After a fun night in Kampangsaen, I returned to Bangkok and met up with Andi, her boyfriend Wiatt, and her friend who is from Bangkok.  We caught up over some beers and a late meal and made plans to meet up in Chiang Mai later in the week.

The next day, Jeff arrived, and we headed back to Chiang Rai.  With only eleven days in Thailand and plenty to see, Jeff spent just two days in Thoeng.  In that time, he was able to meet some of my friends and co-workers, and we got warmed up for some water fighting.

Songkran is Thailand’s biggest holiday.  The festival includes religious ceremonies, Thai customs, parties, and most importantly, water fighting.  Traditionally, the water was used to symbolically wash away the passing year, but somewhere along the way, things got out of hand and kids started dousing each other. 

Songkran is celebrated throughout Thailand, but the North is know for being the craziest place to spend the holiday.  The buckets and squirt guns start appearing weeks before the actual holiday and hang around for a week following. 

With Jeff in town, I had a partner in crime as well as someone to finance our arsenal.  Jeff and I spared no expense in acquiring the finest weaponry that the Thoeng market had to offer.  After securing the biggest guns in Thoeng, we donned our combat gear:  traditional Thai clothing.  Our guns massive, our outfits sexy, we were prepared to reign terror upon the children of Thoeng.  And that we did. 

Approaching stealthily by foot, we would flank our targets, who were employing the tactically inferior bucket method.  A few quick head shots followed by a swift retreat would be our standard opening move.  Following a misguided bucket shot retaliation from our opponents, we would charge in for round two, this time laying on a suppressive combination of eye and ear shots.  Everyone knows that shooting someone in the eye with a squirt gun falls outside the bounds of fair play.  But this was war, and we weren’t going to pull any punches. 

At the end of the day, Jeff and I had demonstrated our water fighting dominance to more than a dozen of my students which had the strange effect of simultaneously impressing the children while causing them to lose most of their respect for me as a teacher. 

From Thoeng, we headed to Chiang Mai to meet up with a bunch of volunteers.  Chiang Mai is undoubtedly the largest Songkran celebration in Thailand.  People and cars fill the streets surrounding the city’s ancient moat, and chaos ensues. 

We donned our Thai outfits, met up with the group, then hit the streets.  Ryan, Jeff, and I found that hitting the same target in the face with three high-pressure streams of water can be an effective and amusing tactic.  Before long, Jeff and I broke away from the group and set out on our own.  We made a good team, and save a few minor exceptions, we kicked ass.  In the afternoon, we found the rest of our friends at a promotional stage for Thailand’s hangover prevention drink, Hang.  The stage featured a bunch of pretty Thai girls dancing while being sprayed down with water.  This scene was altogether strange–I felt like I was living in a beer commercial. 

We drank, danced, and squirted the girls incessantly.  As the afternoon dragged on, we started dropping like flies.  Jeff, Kate, and I were the last ones standing, and we headed back to the guesthouse.  By dinnertime, most everyone was hungover, but we made it out for a delicious Mexican meal.  Some people rallied and went out that night, but I went to bed. 

Friday was a relaxed day.  Jeff and I met up with Andi and Wiatt, but unfortunately Wiatt was suffering from an allergic reaction to an ant bite.  Instead of hanging out, we sent them to a hospital.  Damn ants.

Jeff and I spent the day avoiding getting wet, which is not easy to do.  We planned careful routes to avoid crowds and performed a variety of dodging maneuvers.  For the most part, we were able to stay dry.

From Chiang Mai, Jeff and I headed towards Ko Tao.  I say ‘towards’ because getting there was a bit of an ordeal.  We left on a Friday night and arrived on the island mid-morning on Sunday.  The trip was a long one and was made even longer when our overnight boat failed to show up on Saturday night. 

Once we got to Ko Tao, we headed to a cove called Rocky Beach.  There we stayed in a bungalow on stilts above the water’s edge.  We could walk down a small staircase into the water.  Within minutes of getting settled, Jeff and I went out snorkeling in the cove.  As is my understanding of the buddy system, we were supposed to keep an eye on each other all of the time.  I’m pretty sure that Jeff had no idea where I was for the entire hour unless I was directly in front of him.  I pretty much just followed him around.  We didn’t see a whole lot on that first snorkel, but Jeff encountered a timber shark.

We kept this kind of activity up for a couple days.  Go for a swim.  Rest.  Eat food.  Go for a swim.  Rest.  Drink beer.  Eat food. 

After two days, we were ready for some structure, and our freediving course offered just that.  Jeff and I had been discussing taking a freediving course well before he arrived in Thailand.  We weren’t sure whether the two day course would be worth the price, but we kept the option in mind.  When we arrived on Ko Tao, we went and talked to the people at the freediving school.  We decided to go for it–a decision made easier by Jeff’s generosity in picking up the tab.

Freediving was a confluence of physical challenge, meditation, and fun.  We would start out sessions diving along a line attached to a buoy.  Although it sounds a little tedious, diving along the line was my favorite part of the class.  It was great to just focus on the rope passing in front of my mask, not thinking of how deep I was going.  Before long, I’d arrive at the end of the line, turn around and come up.  With our comfort in the the water, it didn’t take long for us to pick up and apply the breathing and movement techniques.

At the end of our first day of the course, after diving down to check out an underwater pinnacle, Jeff and I were heading back to the boat.  Jeff noticed that a couple people on the deck were scurrying around for some reason.  Then we saw a pack of fellow freedivers all moving in the same direction on the surface, just beyond the boat’s bow.  We swam over to see what was going on and could make out a faint figure swimming along the bottom.  A whale shark. 

Now let me stop here for a moment.  Until recently, I assumed that everyone knew what a whale shark is:  the largest fish on the planet.  In the wake of our encounter and my subsequent storytelling, I have learned that most people do not know of whale sharks or of their significance in the animal kingdom.  For all of you readers who fall into this category, here you go:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whale_shark

Back to my story.  We swam along the surface, chasing the shark, at a brisk but manageable pace.  At times we could dive down to get a closer view, and at one such moment, as Jeff was at about 10 meters or so, the whale shark decided to ascend a little bit.  Jeff was in a great viewing position when the shark turned straight towards him.  This turn of events was by no means dramatic or dangerous, but Jeff did have a memorable up-close encounter with the leviathan (I couldn’t resist using that word, sorry).  Having ascended a bit, the whale shark was within a reasonable depth for us to swim alongside it.  At one point, I swam underneath the massive body, staring upwards at its belly.  Before long, the giant fish dove towards the bottom, and feeling content, we watched its sweeping tail disappear into the blue. 

We hit the surface and were surrounded by hoots of excitement.  The entire experience was quite surreal.  To try to create a comparison would be a disservice to the singular sense of elation and good fortune I felt as we removed our masks and bobbed in the water.  As we headed back to the boat, we saw swarms of scuba operators crowd into the area, hoping for their glimpse. 

I had a couple more days with Jeff before he left, but I won’t bore you with the details.  His visit will remain one of the highlights of my time here in Thailand.  Immediately after his departure, I attended my mid-service conference in Bangkok.  The week was fun, although it left little to report, save an amazing lunch buffet at the hotel (sushi!).  In the past few weeks, I’ve helped run an English Camp, an English language training for teachers, we concluded our HIV/AIDS trainings in my community, and school has started.  I’m writing from Bangkok, where I have a Project Advisory Committee meeting tomorrow, and then tomorrow evening I head to Issan (the Northeast) for 10 days.  I’m sure I’ll have some more stories to tell in not too long. 

I hope everyone is doing well.  Check out the photos for the whale shark and Songkran. 

Ryan came to visit a few weeks back.  His visit was notable for a couple of reasons; the first being that I don’t receive too many visitors here.  The second reason of note is that it had been almost an entire year since Ryan’s previous visit (he came in August for work, but that doesn’t count), which means A) he’s a negligent friend and B) we’ve been at site for a year now.  In fact, as of March 31st, I have less than a year left in my service.  Crazy.

Ryan came to Thoeng, we played guitar during the day, ate delicious food at the restaurant next door in the evening, and hit the town at night.  In all of my time in Thoeng, this occasion was my first time going out to enjoy Thoeng’s nightlife, mostly because Thoeng has no nightlife, with the exception of some establishments of ill-repute.  So Ryan and I ended up at a restaurant and bar that featured a karaoke stage and attractive women wearing go-go boots.  For some reason, there were motel rooms attached to the restaurant and the waitresses were unusually affectionate towards some of the male patrons.  We made it clear to the waitstaff that we only wanted to drink some beer and sing some karaoke.  And we did just that.

After splitting a bottle of Leo to oil up the vocal chords, we started with ‘Like A Prayer’.  Ryan and I harmonized to near perfection, bringing the crowd to their knees in awe.  I think I saw one man crying.  Needless to say, we were met with uproarious applause at song’s end.  Feeling warmed up, we jumped right into ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’.  I took the alto and Ryan the tenor for the first part, once again blending our voices in what can only be described as sonic bliss.  In the middle call-and-response part of the song, Ryan and I were in perfect synch as he took the alto and I switched to baritone.  Then, just as we were getting going with our head-banging, the song stopped abruptly.  Apparently our performance was putting the other karaoke singers to shame and they had to cut us off.

We left in haste for fear of go-go boots and mini-skirts and made our way home.  We passed another nightspot on the ride home and couldn’t resist the chance to sing Madonna again, so we did a quick encore followed by a quick exit. 

The following day, we headed to Chiang Khong, where we hired a boat driver to purchase some Beerlao for us on his next run across the Mekong.  He returned with 18 large bottles of Beerlao, and we were happy.  Beerlao puts any Thai beer to shame–so much so that the Thai Government won’t allow it into the country.  I am actually convinced that someone has created a word-of-mouth smear campaign against Beerlao because as we walked back to Bamboo Guesthouse with our beer, several Thai folk warned us that Beerlao will give us diarrhea, which I have never found to be the case.  The ubiquitous Thai brand, Beer Chang, on the other hand, is not easily forgotten the morning after a few bottles. 

While in Chiang Khong, we played some guitar on the banks of the Mekong, drank wine with my friend Mot, and awaited the arrival of Mr. Jamie Robertson (friend of Nat Miller who is the brother of Eli).  Jamie showed up at dinnertime, having taken the slowest route possible from Chiang Mai.  After we finished eating, the owner of Bamboo, Jeep, was eager to play guitar together, but our buzz was not quite at optimal level yet.  Ryan and I gave Jamie R. a physics lesson in pressure equalization called ‘The Strawpedo’ and then stopped by Mot’s cafe to pick up a bottle of wine.  With the wheels properly greased, we played until Jeep’s wife made us quiet down at 11:00.   

From Bamboo, we struck out in search of a bar, which led us to the only available option, Chiang Khong’s disco.  At the disco, I gave Jamie R. a crash-course in Thai social relations:  the more outgoing one is, the better.  We made some friends and listened to bad Thai music.  I capped the evening by jumping onstage and playing the drums–until they politely asked me to stop.  The next day, we headed home to Thoeng, hung out, played some music, and Ryan returned to his site. 

Jamie 2, as he is now referred to in my town, spent a week with me and was a great guest.  He did his best to communicate with my friends, making abundant use of superlatives, simple words, and a hint of an Eastern European accent to get the point across.  We explored all of the culinary wonders of that Thoeng has to offer, and I think Jamie 2 might have fallen in love with the cook at the restaurant next door, despite the fact that she’s a 47 year-old alcoholic in serious need of dental work.  During his week here, Jamie 2 demonstrated his prowess on the karaoke stage, the dancefloor, the badminton court, and the melodion. People in town keep asking me when he will come back.  My lady-boy hairstylist misses him dearly.

We concluded Jamie 2’s visit with a camping trip to Phu Chi Fah, a nearby mountain cliff that overlooks Laos.  We found a ride to the mountain, and as we approached the village there, we were engulfed in a cloud of smoke coming from large brushfires on either side of the road.  As we ate lunch in the village, we saw the brushfire grow and make its way towards us.   I asked some locals if this sort of thing was normal and they said not to worry, although half of the village stood on their porches watching the fire.  The fire came close to some homes, but people set fires climbing up the hill and away from the village to make a firebreak. 

Determined to go camping, we followed a trail up the hillside leading to Phu Chi Fa, with the fire making its way towards us as we climbed the hill.  This decision was not the safest choice, but we were able to keep track of the fire and had some barren ground for refuge on one side of the trail, the result of another brushfire a day or two previous.  So we made our way to Phu Chi Fa and enjoyed the view of Laos to the East as the sun set through billows of smoke to the West. 

About a half hour after we arrived, we watched the trail we had just travelled burn about 400 yards away from where we stood.  We camped on a hillside with a beautiful view of the cliff and the valley below and played music as we watched the flames consume the neighboring hilltop.  We woke to an eerie view of the valley as the sun rose beyond mountaintops peeking through the haze. 

After serenading the Hmong hilltribe folk in the trailhead parking lot, we headed back home.  In the afternoon we went to Chiang Khong, for Jamie 2 would head to Laos the following morning.  We ate a good Mexican dinner and then played music with Jeep until midnight, when his wife told us it was time to quiet down.

I have a fun couple of weeks coming up, with my brother coming to visit.  We’ll be spending Songkran in the North and meeting up in Chiang Mai with Andi, who is also visiting from the States.  Next weekend, we’ll make our way to an island for some time in the water.  I hope everyone is doing well and is supporting the A’s on their path to the World Series. 

People.  I have been seriously slacking in this whole business of keeping an up to date blog.  In January and February, I meant to do a series of catch-up posts, detailing my trip to Laos and my semi-eventful month of January.  Clearly I’ve come up a little short.  Instead of trying to catch up in detail, I’m going to give you a quick summary, and then hopefully resume with postings describing my present activities.  Does this sound good to everyone?  Great.  Here we go.

Laos:  Amazing.  Thank you Millers, etc. for a wonderful week of culture, food, and conversation.  Thank you speedboat for the lack of hearing in my right ear.

January:  The new kids (Peace Corps Thailand Group 118) arrived.  Their arrival meant that I’ve been here for a full year (actually close to 14 months now), and it also meant that we got drunk and greeted the new group as they checked out of customs.  I’m pretty sure it was a fun-filled event. 

I hung out with Andi’s friend, Adrian, and got to see a whole new world in Bangkok other than the backpacker/poor volunteer life I had been experiencing in BKK.  Thank you, Adrian.

I hung out in Chiang Khong a couple more times and am slowly starting to fall in love with the quiet bordertown.  Nice folk live there.

I’m sure plenty more happened in January, and herein lies the fault of blog procrastination:  I cannot remember.

February:  The month started with Jess visiting.  We went to a wedding in Bangkok for Jess’s friend Yui.  The wedding was massive and was strangely reminiscent of Senior Ball, complete with slideshow.  The food was great; the wine, not so great. 

Jess was here for a week, so we spent some time in BKK, then went to visit the ruins in Sukhothai, one of Thailand’s ancient capitals.  From there, we checked out a waterfall in Tak, then headed back to BKK.  It was great to have Jess visit, but it all went by so quickly. 

The day after Jess left, I spent a day in Chiang Mai with Becky and Lisa who were in town from the U.S. to take a two-week massage course.   I returned home for a few days before heading to Bangkok again to see Oasis and Franz Ferdinand play, which was my first concert in over a year.  The show was fun and hot.  Some guy  was crowd-surfing and landed on my head, making it impossible to turn my neck for a couple days. 

The day following the concert, I met up with Lindsay (the new volunteer in Chiang Rai), who would return home with me that evening to visit my site and her new site. 

Lindsay and I had a good time wandering around my small town.  I introduced her to the great food to be found in Thoeng.  Later in the week, I met up with Ryan and Chiang Mai, and we headed down to Jordan’s site to do an English Camp.  The camp went well, thanks to good organizing on the part of Jordan and her counterparts. 

After Jordan’s camp, I went to the training site for the new volunteers to lead a session on what to do once you arrive at site.  The session went pretty well, and I am excited for the new group.  They seem to be well-balanced, and the trainers are doing a great job. 

This past Wednesday, I headed to Chiang Mai from the training site in Utthai Thani.  I met up with our country director who was in town for a volunteer HIV/AIDS conference and visiting volunteers in the north.  I had a chance to see some of the other volunteers, and we had a delicious Mexican dinner. 

The next morning, Dr. John and I got up early for the 4 hour trip back to my site.  His visit was cut short because in the afternoon I attended a funeral for the son of a teacher at my school.  It was nice to spend some time talking and getting to know the big guy a little bit. 

Since Thursday, things have slowed down to a normal at site (whatever that means).  Next weekend I’m going to a my supervisor’s son’s wedding, so I’ll be a homebody for at least the next couple of weeks, which is a good thing because i need to save some money for my brother’s visit in April.  It looks like he’ll be here for about 10 or 11 days.  We’ll start out in the north for Thai New Year’s, then probably find an island to keep us busy. 

This posting is the second in a series, so if you haven’t read the previous posting, you might be a little lost.

The debate had been going on for weeks in my head. On the one hand, the slow boat is cheaper and more comfortable, however in taking the slow boat, I would squander two entire vacation days just getting to Luang Prabang. By taking the speedboat, I would save a day but would be subjected to six hours of horrible discomfort, deafening engine noise, and possibly death (every couple of years or so, a speedboat travelling between Luang Prabang and Chiang Khong crashes, killing passengers and drivers).

Having decided that risking the remote possibility of dying in a fiery ball on the Mekong River is better than wasting a vacation day, I chose the speedboat.

I have obviously survived the ordeal, but my experience verified the many frightening stories I had heard about the speedboat to Luang Prabang. The boat was so narrow, it would more be more aptly called a rocket canoe. The ride was possibly the most terrifying of my life, though I was too distracted by the pain shooting through my legs and back to take notice. For the duration of the trip, I shared a 4′ x 2′ space with Dave, a six-foot tall college kid from Boston. We were squished together in a way where our movements were inextricably linked. If Dave wanted to shift his legs, I would have to adjust my body position as well. Every fifteen minutes or so, I would move my legs around and find a somewhat comfortable position. After five minutes, the quasi-comfort would give way to mild discomfort which would eventually be overtaken by wrenching pain. The view was nice though.

As we jetted down the Mekong, we passed remote fishing villages where the inhabitants had likely lived in the same fashion for the past century or more. These villages had no electricity, and the people apparently made their life from the river. The future for these villages that depend on the Mekong is uncertain, as China has begun building a series of dams upriver. How these dams will affect ecosystems downstream remains to be seen.

We arrived in Luang Prabang in the twilight, about fifteen minutes after it had become too dark to see clearly. My body felt like it had been packed in a suitcase, and my hearing was shot—everything sounded like I was underwater—but I had arrived safely in Luang Prabang. Stepping off the speedboat, I promised myself I would never do that again.