Valves

Whoops.

What I learned today is that individual water lines, such as one to a faucet, do not have individual shutoff valves. How I learned this is by bumping into the blue PVC faucet poking out of the wall in my bathroom, the one that's about knee height that fills up the flush bucket. So I whacked it with the plastic tub where I was washing my clothes. Not that hard, but still, I whacked it. And, well, yeah, it's made of blue PVC and it's held together with something like airplane glue. And, yeah, I guess it just kind of broke off, pretty much right where the pipe comes out of the wall. And I suppose a bit of water came out, rather a lot actually, rather quickly. So I had to get Grumpy to switch off the pump that pressurizes the water for the whole building. Grumpy's unfriendly at the best of times; I hesitate to think of the reception I'll get when I return chez moi this evening.

I should have listened to Peter's old italian super. Don' tucca da' walves. Simple as that.

Got an audience with the head monk of the whole country today. Sounds pretty fancy, but it was only so-so. But one great image for the ever-growing series of reenactment photos I'm going to stage: Lao script written in charcoal on tree bark as the monks continued their teachings in the forest when buildings became unavailable, mid-war.

Also, at the ever-productive Hash House Harriers (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_House_Harriers) run, the father-in-law of one of the runners is an old soldier who might be willing to do an interview. Spent some time talking to him througha translator to pave the way last night, then making an official request today. Things go tranquilo in Laoland. Not so big on the rushing into things around here, they aren't.

So as I said, I've realized that a portrait photo of a person you interview only goes so far. Meaning they're quite boring much of the time, except in cases where someone is just really striking looking, like Mr. Phouvieng here. Hence, historical reenactment in the offing. That I'm thinking like it's a documentary only makes sense, since that's actually what I'm more qualified to do.

Mr. Phouvieng, Phonsavanh, Xieng Khouang Province, Lao PDR, August 2004

Tidbits

Little details of late:

Had to physically push a guy away from me, a drunk Lao guy claiming to not be gay, yet he was pawing at me so aggressively and not listening to my verbal rebuffs that I had to shove him away from me. Saw him a few days later and told him he's really got to get a grip on that. If you're gay, admit it and deal with it. It's not that homophobic a country. He's lucky I'm not some people I know; he would have been spitting out teeth. Nonetheless, it pissed me off.

Some time ago, I met a guy from the west who's been traveling and living in Asia with no passport or papers for years. Latenight bellycrawls and fast breaks and bribes have been his methods of border crossing. Wow. That sounds challenging. As to why? I don't exactly know. It got stolen at some point, and then it has proven difficult to get a new one I guess? Talk about off the grid. That's all the way off. Traveling invisibly.

Progress report: it is happening, albeit slowly. Interesting interview with the Minister of Propaganda, sorry, the Director-General of the Press Office. The government guys are proving extremely inefficient at getting me any interviews. Fine. Saves me money. Except I need them to get me some of them. It will be more difficult to get interviews with old soldiers etc. without their assistance. But they're clearly operating on Lao time. One of the guys at the office is kind of creepy. A hard military bearing to him, fairly unfriendly, when he looks at you his glittering little eyes seem to be sizing you up for sale. He seems fixated on when I am going to go upcountry, when I'll have to spend some real money. Even though in my application letter I said I'd be working mostly in Vientiane, and there was a possibility I would want to go upcountry at some point. The DG was actually quite personable, but can't say as much for one of his underlings.

Read a story about a really scummy Thai cop milking some Hmong refugees as hard as he can.
http://www.hmongihrw.org/?cat=13 Point of reference for the story: 4000 Baht= about 100$


More runs with the Harriers. More leads. Leaving Vientiane on Wednesday, heading down to the south. Need time.

Hope this book doesn't suck.

Onward bravely,
affectionately yours,
Tom

Harriers

So I must mention the Hash House Harriers now. It's a group that's active in every major city on the globe. They get together and go on a treasure hunt/jog/walk once a week, then they have dinner and drink a bunchof beer. It's a an excellent networking forum. I've met a bunch of people, Lao and foreign, all of them interesting. And it's exercise. And it's fun. Except they make you sit in a bucket of ice cubes from time to time. But if any of you are in Asia at any point, they're everywhere. I think even in New York. You can make a lot of contacts, for whatever your purposes are. They suit mine fine. I met the woman with the interesting family history there, and an old English geezer who's been here since 1962, and a US Navy guy who's working on finding the remains of the MIA plane-got-shot-down guys. All fun and useful folks. So check out the Hash House Harriers.

The name comes from the original run back in 1938 in Malaysia, where they gathered at a greasy spoon, otherwise known as a "Hash house". Nothing to do with THC.

Skype

I signed up for Skype, so if any of you are enabled thusly, I'm down to chitchat.

Skype is a free phonecalls-via-internet program which enables two people, both of whom have the skype software loaded on their computer, to talk for free through teir computer microphones/speakers/webcams. Go to http://www.skype.com/ for the actual details. NEver done it yet, but it seems easy. Hey skype-already-done it people, send me a note so we can chat.

T

Serious

It's funny, people seem to take me more seriously than I take myself. Having gotten other people involved now and having spent a bunch of dough, I guess I've got to make it happen.

But I suppose it doesn't cost people a dime to say, "Yes, it serves our interests to not obstruct what you are spending only your own time and money on. Carry on."

Stay the course. Be brave.

Legit

I am now an officially permitted journalist in the Lao People's Democratic Republic.

All that stuff in Lao typed all over my badge. I don't know what it means. Maybe it says, "Do not trust this man. Do not allow him in your house. Do not leave him alone with your daughters.

The officials at the Press Office are being reasonably cool about it, that I don't have to pay my fee on non-interview days. But still, time to go beat up my bank account, comparatiively speaking to what I've been spending. More money for transpo, since I have to carry my minder around, the daily fee, and gifts to grease the wheels. Maybe just buying a case of wine now is a good idea, save a few bucks per bottle. I have to hire an interpreter too, unless I can get someone to do it for me for free. Yeah, no problem. People love donating their skills for free to people from the wealthiest country in the world.

A new one for me, last night: Haggling over the price of a whore on behalf of a friend because I can speak more Lao than he.

Puu-ying haa ngaan: "working girls". Not exactly my cup of tea, but hey. Gotta help a brother out.

Expensive!

My pal Ryan is in J-school and he's been giving me some helpful tips on all this crap. Have a gander at his at http://www.ryansholin.com/. Hey. Another grip/electric guy gone wordy. We lost him on the notorious New Mexico Ratner Job some years back. He met a girl. He went West. He got a new career. Hey. They even pay him to write. Who knew that a guy that good with a wrench and with knuckles so calloused from dragging on the ground knew how to type.

Gummint

The good part about beng accredited here is it might let me get some stuff that I might have a hard time getting otherwise. The bard part is it's pricey. 100 clams to get registered, then 20$ a day per day of work, plus paying the expenses of my government minder if we're outside of Vientiane. So I made it sound like that's all I'm really doing at this point, just research and interviews in Vientiane.

I've had a good afternoon with and American Vietnam vet who's spent lots of time floating around southeast Asia and is now working on his Ph. D. in international development. I do admire folks who pick their education back up much later in life when they decide it's important again.
"When I got there, it was like, I was in high school three months ago! I went straight from reform school to Fort. Campbell, Kentucky for basic, then to Fort Lee, then jump school in Georgia, then from there I went straight to Vietnam. I turned nineten in Vietnam."
re: hairy moments that stuck with him, like scary firefights out on Long-Range Recon Patrol (Lurps)
"You piss your pants. You lose, you know, you lose all compassion for life. You really, really become so scared that you're totally concerned about life. But at the same time, you dn't give a fuck about life. It's kind of an oxymoron type thing. You worry about your mates, you worry about dying, but at the same time you think only about self preservation; you're going to do anyhting you have to do to stay alive. and there's not really no hate or animosity, there becomes that after you see a few of your friends die, and then it becomes, well, fuck it, but when you go there, when I went there, I didn't even know what Vietnam was!"

Bo pen yang

A guy from the UNDP responded to an email from me and says he'll try to help me get press credentials. We met this morning. He's interested in me doing a good job, because increased exposure of the UXO problem and the whole Lao history in America would be a good thing for them. He oversees the technical details of UXO Lao, and they've decided they need more knowledge of this in America. America is the land of funding. He says they get a lot of media students who want to do a little project of some sort as part of their studies, but adult americans trying write a book is much less common. So he called me and we met up.

Not to make too big a deal of it, but it was encouraging. He's not in the government, who will be a bit less receptive than he of the UNDP, but nonetheless, it's nice to have someone who's at such an influential organization somewhat on my side.

It feels a bit pressureful. Now that I've said that I'm writing a book, I really have to deliver. It can't suck. It has to get done. I have to do a good job.

One little frustration is that I haven't got much photgraphic support. I'm gathering mountains of background information, some of it quotable, but 'm not getting the meat on the table so to speak. It'll happen. But I guess its a good thing. The more I know, the more depth in which I can describe things and tell stories. Or provide commentary to personal stories. The heart of what I'm doing has to be the personal anecdotes and excellent photographs to illustrate them. And they will come, but it's going to take a while.

Hey wait, I thought ressearching and writing a book was supposed to be a walk in the park!! This is total bullshit! Why didn't people tell me it was this much work? What a pile of crap.

It's funny how few photographs I've taken, since this is ostensibly supposed ot be heavy on the pictures.

Aah, then there's the fun part, actually trying to get something published. Ha ha. A fight for another day.

Lesson on dealing with the way things work here from a local friend of mine, a former government employee: "You have to be very, very patient. Things may not go the way you want them to, or the way you think they should. Tell people who you are, where you're going, and what you want and perhaps they'll be helpful. If you are not open, then no."
He is the second guy I've met who resigned, partly because it was time to retire, but partly out of frustration with the slow, mellow, lackadaisical, and not particularly efficient way this place works. The phrase in Lao that says so much about th country is, "Bo pen yang". It means roughly, "No problem! No worries! Insh'allah! Don't worry about it! No biggie!" All of that rolled into one. They've got it much easier than their goal-oriented neighbors the Vietnamese. The Vietnamese have twenty times the population density of Laos. In Laos, you don't have to struggle too hard. It's not so hard. Just take it easy. The Vietnamese have always been subjected to a greater adaptive pressure than the Lao, and thus, they kick ass. They're tough and efficient. The Lao are much more Bo Pen Yang.

Is this blog getting totally boring? Writing about writing aaaagh! Schoolboy navelgazing! "Talked to a guy. Bla bla. Ok read some stuff. Bla bla. Went looking for some dude, but he wasn't there or wouldn't talk. Bla bla bla." I don't know, for me, it's everything that this trip is about at this point.

Cheers
T

Story

The afternoon was at least as productive. Chatting with a friend of mine who grew up in Saravane town in the south, I learned the fantastic story of how Saravane was a boomtown like Deadwood back in the sixties. There was a group of American officers and advisors stationed there, recruiting and hiring a local ethnic mnnority to be spotters and spies for them. These men made a huge amount of money. They'd come back to town after their short tours in the forest and go absolutely hog-wild. Undreamed-of sums of money being thrown about like confetti.

I can't tell you all the fun details because the book won't be a surprise then.

I don't blog on the shitty days where I feel like I'm not getting anywhere, the days when I can't summon the gumption to just go talk to people, the days I can't make it happen or the days I feel like I don't have any ideas. But I'm making progress. I'm getting stuff done. It's going to take some time.

My god I wish I had brought a digital voice recorder!! My hand was about to fall off I was writing so fast. And you miss things when you're writing as fast as you're listening.

Acceptance

Great day! First, in the morning, an organization has accepted my request to shadow one of their UXO clearance teams for a week in September. They're ex-military, so our meeting this morning was actually a bit intimidating. I sort of wished I was a little better prepared with more questions and had read their website in more than a cursory fashion. At least I got a haircut yesterday and wore a clean collared shirt. But nonetheless, they're willing to take me, which is quite exciting. Sort of a breakthrough, since I've been here in Vientiane requesting something of the sort for over a week.
I may be speaking a lot of French. The supervisor whose team I'll be following is French or French Swiss, I believe. But that's alright. I've been speaking at least a little French every day, as well as learning a bit more Lao. My brain starts to swim with words after a while.
The expedition will be out in the weeds in Savannakhet province. He showed me some satellite maps covered in webs of red dots of varying concentrations. This is data they've been given by the US embassy, each dot indicating an airstrike from the sixties and seventies, accompanied by what the aircraft was, how many, on what date, what the target was, what ordnance, class of ordnance, how many bombs each aircraft was carrying, and a bomb damage assessment. It gives them a decent idea of what to expect where. This web of dots indicates where the Air Force thought that the Ho Chi Minh trail was, or else where there was heavy fighting. In some places you see a line of dots in a row where no road, river or village lies, and those places tend to be where the NVA/PL forces were pushing a trail through to attack some target, and the bombardment record marks this trail. In some places, the web is so dense no white is showing. Frightening, really, to see how dense the bombing was. Millions of dollars a day worth of bombs in the sixties. Good thing we showed those bastards. We sure showed 'em.
Nobody freak out; I'm not going to get blown up. They really know what they're doing. And I'm not doing the actual work, just shadowing. The foreign experts train, teach, and supervise, and local recruits do the work. The idea is that the local teams become self-sufficient in relatively short order.
This will be an opportunity to get some excellent photographs of areas and people directly affected by the war. I'll be able to meet some folks and interview them. And UXO clearance is one of the biggest ongoing effects of our war here.
I like this UXO clearance team; they're non-nonsense, goal-oriented, and I have no doubt, efficient. The military will do that for you.
In any case, I was flattered that they took me on so easily after I sent them a letter and my CV. One thing he inquired about is how I spoke French. Maybe my resume just seemed pretty good, or at least to indicate that I wouldn't be a hindrance.

Work

Bustle bustle. That's what my days are like here. I've discovered that communist governments have lots of red tape. Lots. That's a newsflash, now isn't it? Who knew? Anyway. Trying to operate legitimately in cooperation with aid agencies could be a quite promising source of material, but it's also a pain in the ass.

I ought to see if I can make a deal with this internet joint, since I spend so many hours in here. See if I can geta price break. I mean, come on, it's 6000 kip per hour(that's 60 cents). You'd think that they could cut their best customer some slack. Oh wait- the little rugrats playing video games are actually the best customers.

I was chatting yesterday with a man who grew up here who lit up when I told him I was from Boston. He said he had an English teacher once for one term in 1964 who he said must rank as one of the best of the best teachers ever. This teacher had eighty students in his class, and only one failed. Impressive, no?

That one semester of English provided Mr. D with a solid enough foundation to continue on to learn English as well as he knows it now, which is quite. I think we sat talking for over three hours yesterday. This teacher's name was Lou Setti. He was 32 in 1964, so that would make him 74 years old now. If I can find that guy, he might have a few stories for me, having been a non-spy American working in Saravane in 1964.

Saravane is one of the southern provinces on what was once know as the Ho Chi Minh trail. Heavily bombed, of course. Not quite as heavily as Attapeu, which borders on both Cambodia and Vietnam(lucky them!), but still fairly thoroughly. There were a stack of spies running around in that area at the time, mostly military advisers recruiting the local ethnic minorities, mostly the Ka in that area, to fight against the Pathet Lao/NVA alliance.

Tidbits: The Vietnamese are still paying back their arms loans to the Soviets and the Chinese. The guns weren't free, even in the name of fighting off the capitalist imperialist swine.

Mr. D (the chap I was talking to) was a teacher of engineering, electronics, and technical measurement for seventeen years here following the war. He quit when he finally lost his faith in the government here, that the socialist ideals had become a complete farce. He really believed in socialism for a little while after the war was over, but when Kaysone Phomvihane retired, it all went the way of a tin-pot autocracy.

He's an ardent fan of the French educational system under which he came up, finding it superior to what he calls the more modular American system. He said the French have a more linear sequential system of education, where you have to learn things in more of an order, and each thing builds on what has come before. I told him I didn't agree comletely, that sum of information that is out there is too great to approach it in that Renaissance-man fashion, that you have to break things down somewhat into units or else you'll get lost, but in any case. I do agree that interrelating subjects and creating a solid foundation seem to be a better way to do it than the more Cartesian fashion that we're familiar with from the traditional US education. Incidentally, he has nothing but respect for the Vietnamese educational system. HE said that after the wars, the Lao threw out the baby with the bathwater, but the Vietnamese kept the best of the French colonial educational traditions.

I like Vietnamese sandwiches. They taste good.

Back to work.

Affiliation

It would be very useful for me to bve affiliated with some some of organization to be able to put on an air of legitimacy when I'm approaching organizations to talk. Anyone got any ideas of some sort of journalistic enterprise that would let me use their name, basically calling me an occasional non-staff contributing journalist. Or something like that that wouldn't cost them anything.

Any ideas?

I'm finding it fairly difficult to get affiliated with an organization that would be helpful to my research and photography. It's like Mr. Viengsavanh said to me; people are not likely to be willing to help unless you're attached to some organization that seems legitimate. Um, ok.

My Lao phone number is 5047329.
to call from the US:
011-856- 5047329

There is an odd prefix saystem that might tip you up. Here, to call from a landline to a mobile, you dial 020 + the number. From a mobile to a mobile here, thee's no prefix. So perhaps you'll have to dial 011-856-020-5047329. Or perhaps not. I'm not sure exactly, having not tried it myself.

This is a link I found for cheap calling cards to call here:
http://www.enjoyprepaid.com/enjoyprepaid/jsp/plan/planselection.jsp?AFFN=708472684&from_country=1&to_country=538

Leads

So I've spent the last few days bustling around Vientiane on my bicycle looking for various NGOs. The information I got from the internet is all total shite. Not one correct phone number, except for maybe one, but they didn't speak english at that one. Erm. Ok. Remembering bits of the Lao I used to know, learning more every day. I've got to learn this language if Im going ot get stuff done, but it's unlikely to be able to learn enough to do what I want ot do in my timeframe. But my timeframe remains indefinite. Much more indefinite since I got here. I was feeling so purposeless and adrift before I got here. But I've got a project here. Today was wonderfull productive. At breakfast I met a girl who's half Hmong, half Lao, but raised in Chicago. She's going to forward a list of my questions to her mum and dad and siblings, who grew up here during the troubles. They're in Chi-town, so a proper interview will have to wait. But they might have stories I need. It seems like a good lead.

I've put together a very long to-do list for here, what photos I need, who I need to find to talk to. While hunting around at an expired address for MAG (Mines advisory group) I met a chap who was incredibly helpful. Mr. Manivong Viengsavanh was born here, but educated in the Soviet Union, graduate of the class of 1980. A retired agricultural engineer who speaks perfect French, excellent English and decent Chinese and Russian who says he can't get to sleep at night without reading for a while. Showed me some excellent books, nineteenth-century french travelogues from the explorers of the area. It was so refreshing to meet a scholarly intellectual! It gets so depressing, seeing everyone just watchig TV all the time. The last one was the man in Bagan, Myanmar, who's earned the moniker, "Mr. Universe", because he knows so damn much about so many things. Mr Universe ( aka U Thaung Lwin) schooled me on Theravada Buddhism. Seems there might be as many contradictions in buddhism as in Catholicism. Mmm, well, not quite. But many.

In any case. Mr. Viengsavanh advised me to get attached to some organization so that the government gives me a certain degree of trust, since some of my areas of inquiry remain sensitive topics. In addition, he underlines the importance of making some local friends in order to have introductions to people whose stories I want. People will be less willing to trust me if I'm just coming in from the cold. He approved of my plan to volunteer for MAG, or UXO Lao, or NSA, or CARE international. He thought that would be a smart way to get a toehold towards gathering the material I want.

I can't tell you how thrilled I am to have more of a project to do. Honestly, I was really running out of patience with the backpacker bum life. I was up to here with Thailand.

Mmm. Beerlao. The best beer in Southeast Asia. And at seventy cents a bottle(22.5 fl. oz.) you can't go too far wrong. Siobhan and I had a pretty good laugh the first day or two here. We had a brilliant meal at one of the nice French restaurants by Nam Phou fountain, only spoiled by the bunny-boiler. Then Siobhan and I went out to a Lao nightclub. The kids are much better dancers than the last time I was here. How much this town has come up in two years! So much more money! On the CIA world factbook, it's only a notch or two above Burma, but it's really worlds apart. Three cheers for slightly less dysfnctional government.

Did you all see Fatal Attraction? That's the reference. A bunny-boiler is a woman who's gone off the rails obsessed with someone, to the point of danger. I'm watching my back now, looking over my shoulder. I hear the door open behind me, and I jump.

I've been a cad, but this woman's temper is really out of hand. This is the one I spoke of before in an earlier post, the one who punched me in the face in a jealous rage. A jealous rage inspired by the event of my spending more time with my friends than with her. She just kept on popping up wherever I was. Ko pha ngan, then on the boat leaving KPN, then in bangkok, then here in Vientiane! After yet another vituperative and hyperbolically insulting email, she said she was leaving the country to get away from me. Ok.

The lecture that Sven gave me after my drama with the French girl of whom I was quite fond was, "you're not going to fall in love out here. Everything's too transient. Don't set yourself up for disappointment." I guess the Englishwoman didn't catch that speech. But she really behaved badly on so many occasions. Screaming in public is a real no-no in Asian cultures. As well as throwing a handful of torn-up photographs. Hoo-ee. Live and learn. Watch out for bunnyboilers.

I doubt there will be any drama remotely resembling that again. I'm here to work on my book, not to party. Enough of that.

I must say, I'm so thrilled to be back in Lao. I feel so much more comfortable here, I'm concentrating hard on my book, I've got lots to do, I'm less preoccupied with the anomie and aimlessness that had been plagueing me since halfway through Myanmar, and it's lovely here. The people are so nice and mellow, the negative cultural exchange of Thailand is largely gone, life is good, the food is great, the beer is cheap and good, and what else can I say? I've got loads of work to do.

I'm surrounded by wee Lao lads playing some video game. Uh.... The West is coming fast.

Vientiane

I'm back. Feels good to be back here. It's grown up so much in two years! It's still the dusty little provincial capital it's always been, but so many new posh little bars and restaurants. Still completely dwarfed by giant cities like Bangkok and Rangoon, but the money is starting to flow here.

Siobhan's here, a good friend who I met here two years ago who happens to be back at the same time. We've been having a good laugh. Tomorrow I'm going to get to work again, start making a plan for what material I need to gather here and figure out hopw to get it. I'm thinking of volunteering for some NGO for a while as a means of getting reacquainted and inserted into the culture here. Trying to remember to speak what little bit of Lao I once knew.

Happy to be back in Laos. My patience for backpacker loafing has worn thin. For now.

New poll that I'll also be conducting: "Now, why exactly are you traveling? And don't give me any of that, 'I want to experience foreign cultures' crap. Of course that's part of it; now give me the real answer. " Without being rude of course. And, in return, I'm certain I'll be required to answer the same question in return.

Tolerance

I wonder, sometimes, about when two culturally different groups interact closely, whether it reinforces or counteracts cultural prejudices. The conventional wisom is that experience and education are they key to tolerance. But there are countless examples ofthe opposite happening. American media culture seeping into the Muslim world being one obvious, if rather blunt example. But that's not really people, that's commerce and money. Perhaps better examples are the classic struggles of new immigrant communities. But then again, the American notion of the cure to those ills is greater integration and less isolation.
The immediate example that presents itself is certain travelers in Southeast Asia. Travelers being loud, insensitive and dismissive of the "tourist servant class" and on the flipside, the locals developing a very colored view of the foreign visitors. Also just thinking of some of my experiences here. Little stupid things that you find yourself judging. Like, why do almost none of the Thais read? Much of the time, the folks who work in guesthouses have nothing to do, and they sit around watching TV or napping. That's my cultural background, finding it morally superior to read than to watch TV, That a tradition of intellectual engagement is more valuable than one of seeking passive entertainment. Funny to hear from an American, I'm sure.

That's my idea of a negative cultureal exchange. Like the little boy I wrote about some time ago, sitting with his dad, watching my friends and I dance well past dawn, well-caned, waiting for the party to end so they could pick up the litter of the beach. They see us as degenerates who never work. We see them as our servants. Post-colonial colonialism. Unequally-matched economies. What to do? Thats globalization. We want the cheap products and labor, they want the economic development. Sigh.

Asian

So I've been trying to figure out what is the primary motive force that pulls all these westerners out to Asia. Maybe it's obvious; People want several things. They want to party for cheap, they want to "experience a different culture", albeit in the limited fashion of interacting with guesthouse staff and taxi drivers, they want to see some natural beauty and historical architecture. Those seems to be the most common motives, but not at all the only ones. I would be insulting myself and my peers if I said that.

Funny thing about absorbing another culture is that there's a massive barrier to most of us: We don't speak the language. We can't understand what locals say to each other, other than what basics are communicated by body language and expression and activity. So how much are we absorbing? How much of what I've learned about Thailand even comes from Thais, rather than filtered through layers of foreigner hearsay? Not knocking that avenue, there is gold in them thar hills, what stories we farangs tell each other in cafes and curbsides, but it's not a primary source.

It's a drag being so dependent on foreigners to speak my language and being unable to speak theirs. I know so little Thai.

Held

Held up in Bangkok a little longer. At Hua Lamphong Station last night, the nice people in uniforms told me that Chiang Mai was flooded, so you can't get there at the moment. Sat and pondered what trains were going where that evening, wondering, "Cambodia? Laos? Wherever shall I go?" Then realized I needed to get prepped before I went to Laos. Got a cab. Got a room. Rereading my old notes and interviews, reading articles on the web, getting my brain back around the topic. Getting ready to resume working on my book. Tired of being a drifting expat without enough purpose.

I have been feeling out of sorts, like "what the hell am I doing here?" Tired of Thailand. Some internal wrangling going on about the future of this voyage. Looking forward to trying to learn and achieve something. I was certainly learning in Myanmar, but that was a very difficult country. Not that Lao is that much easier, but I've got so much more background there. Time to go.

One thing that was so challenging about Myanmar was the isolation. There's a regular push-pull in my travelling world between the need for western company and the need to flee them to regain self-determination. I was a happy guest in many ways at my friend's house where I've been staying these ten days, but I was not making all my own choices, making sure to be doing right by myself. In some ways, one could consider it an argument in favor of selfishness, to not get attached to people so that you can determine your own course, but then the flip side is you've got to go find people with whom to chat. Or maybe it just means get a job.

It's just as well that Chiang Mai was blocked. So I'm here in the backpacker ghetto, where there are cheap computer resources and lodging, doing what I tought I might do up there. Parking my butt in front of a computer.

Cheers all.

T