Like tickles and lemons...
No matter how many toys and bubbles and stickers we take with us to the orphanages, do you know what the kids love the most?
Tickles.
Its fun, it's free and it's one on one contact for the kid as long as it goes on. It’s bonding and it's play and it's silly. And it's so so easy. I had one little girl follow me today trying to provoke me to tickle her some more after I'd gone on to do something else. She’s only lived at the orphanage a few weeks now and the only real contact she's gotten lately from us has been when we've been picking out her nits...so the tickles were a real treat for her!
And lemons
Tonight, I have a bit of a sore throat, so I decided to go across the road to the little fruit and veg stall to buy some lemons. But they didn't have any. The lady pointed over to the other side of the junction to another stall but she didn't have any either, she pointed me up the road away from the house.
As I was walking along a motorbike passed and then I heard someone calling my name. It was Chau, a girl who works as a translator for us in another city.She's here in Tam Ky visiting friends for a few days. She told me the market was probably closed but maybe I could borrow a lemon from our neighbouring coffee shop?
So I headed back to the house only to see Chau pull up her motorbike down the street a little in front of me. Her friend hopped off the back and had run into a grocer's shop I hadn't seen. Chau explained what was happening and how her friend would get them for me for a good price, double prices are rampant here!
So now I'm sitting here drinking my hot lemon and wondering how long I could be walking around Cavan or Dublin before I'd meet someone who, [a], would bother stopping or pulling over or [b], who would actually go out of their way to help me find a lemon!
It’s the simple things that make life good!
Thursday, 18 December 2008
Wednesday, 17 December 2008
scars
don't always mean the wound is healed...
Today, we were at the hospital for disabled children with our visiting physiotherapist, Roz who is here for two months. All the parents knew she was coming so we had a big crowd already.
And then another visitor, a very very old looking lady.
She asked me how old I was, and I told her I was 24, [in Vietnamese] look at me go, understanding this old lady with a mouth full of betel leaf!
I asked her how old she was, ooh, she's 84 years old. Wow.
And then she started talking too fast for me to understand.
I looked to Mr. Tuan, our translator for help. He looked at the lady and then looked at me and said "your father..."
My father what?!
The old lady started rubbing her arm - my father sprayed Agent Orange and Napalm on this country....
The war is over, but never forgotten. It only ended 33 years ago.
If this was her instant reaction, who else thinks like this?
All the children call us "My" - every white person is automatically seen as American.
What do they think of us? They don't know anything of the war, they just know the 'Americans' come to play with them and give them food and teach them. When they learn about the war what will they think? Will it change how they feel about us and our work? Or will it affect how they feel about the war?
Only yesterday we went to a provincial conference celebrating international investments and foreign organisations. There were representatives from almost every NGO based in our province, there were expats and volunteers, there were Vietnamese colleagues of all these people. All of them victims of the war in some respect.
But still, no one forgets.
So anyway, I told her, no no no, I'm Irish, no no no no no!
As she was leaving she passed me by again;
Betel Leaf Lady: 'Where are you from?'
Me: Ireland.
BLL: 'Where are you from?' [expression says, "oh, the dumb American can't understand me!"]
Me: I-R-E-L-A-N-D
Me: ok ok, England, you know England?
BLL: 'Of course I do. Your nose is ugly.' [pointing to my piercing]
Nice!
Today, we were at the hospital for disabled children with our visiting physiotherapist, Roz who is here for two months. All the parents knew she was coming so we had a big crowd already.
And then another visitor, a very very old looking lady.
She asked me how old I was, and I told her I was 24, [in Vietnamese] look at me go, understanding this old lady with a mouth full of betel leaf!
I asked her how old she was, ooh, she's 84 years old. Wow.
And then she started talking too fast for me to understand.
I looked to Mr. Tuan, our translator for help. He looked at the lady and then looked at me and said "your father..."
My father what?!
The old lady started rubbing her arm - my father sprayed Agent Orange and Napalm on this country....
The war is over, but never forgotten. It only ended 33 years ago.
If this was her instant reaction, who else thinks like this?
All the children call us "My" - every white person is automatically seen as American.
What do they think of us? They don't know anything of the war, they just know the 'Americans' come to play with them and give them food and teach them. When they learn about the war what will they think? Will it change how they feel about us and our work? Or will it affect how they feel about the war?
Only yesterday we went to a provincial conference celebrating international investments and foreign organisations. There were representatives from almost every NGO based in our province, there were expats and volunteers, there were Vietnamese colleagues of all these people. All of them victims of the war in some respect.
But still, no one forgets.
So anyway, I told her, no no no, I'm Irish, no no no no no!
As she was leaving she passed me by again;
Betel Leaf Lady: 'Where are you from?'
Me: Ireland.
BLL: 'Where are you from?' [expression says, "oh, the dumb American can't understand me!"]
Me: I-R-E-L-A-N-D
Me: ok ok, England, you know England?
BLL: 'Of course I do. Your nose is ugly.' [pointing to my piercing]
Nice!
Sunday, 14 December 2008
Thursday, 4 December 2008
Happy Advent Season
(that's what this time of year used to be called back in the good old days)
I know this video is Jesus oriented and all that jazz, even if you're someone who doesn't believe, you can still identify with the hassle and the craziness this time of year brings to us all.
And it's a pretty funky video anyway.
So................................................................
Now you've watched the video, well, where are you gonna spend that cash..............?
You could do Oxfam - which rocks - or maybe, just maybe, how about these guys?
One euro a day is all it costs to buy these guys milk or fruit. But altogether, in the town I'm working in now we spend US$500 (approx eu420) per month on food and education for these children.
It costs about $35 roughly per month to sponsor some random child that you won't really get the full story on, but I've got almost 100 beautiful children in need on some good nutritious food and education that I'd be more than happy to bore you to death about!
If you're interested, please contact me here or via email: ead.oreilly@gmail.com and I'll get you set up!
I know this video is Jesus oriented and all that jazz, even if you're someone who doesn't believe, you can still identify with the hassle and the craziness this time of year brings to us all.
And it's a pretty funky video anyway.
So................................................................
Now you've watched the video, well, where are you gonna spend that cash..............?
You could do Oxfam - which rocks - or maybe, just maybe, how about these guys?
One euro a day is all it costs to buy these guys milk or fruit. But altogether, in the town I'm working in now we spend US$500 (approx eu420) per month on food and education for these children.
How about sponsoring one?
It costs about $35 roughly per month to sponsor some random child that you won't really get the full story on, but I've got almost 100 beautiful children in need on some good nutritious food and education that I'd be more than happy to bore you to death about!
If you're interested, please contact me here or via email: ead.oreilly@gmail.com and I'll get you set up!
Friday, 7 November 2008
travelling, and travelling without moving
so i've returned to Viet Nam.
after three awesome weeks in northern Laos, three stunning weeks in northern Thailand and then three even more wonderful and amazing and fun weeks in Malaysia and southern Thailand with my boy i'm ready to get back into it. i think..!
it's been a manic week already, with a couple of networking meetings and all new volunteers and trying to catch up on everything that's going on, i've been hit with a horrible cold and sore throat to boot so that's not making things any easier. plus, as you can see from my previous post, some of the volunteers have had a rollercoaster of a week and a half with poor little baby Tam, may she rest in peace.
but i'm happy to be back. it's exciting already.
while i was in chiang mai i met a guy who insisted on completely disecting my personality (a little uncomfortable it's got to be said..) he wanted to know WHY i would want to volunteer. was it a previous wrongdoing i was trying to make up for? stereotypical catholic guilt? oh and the list went on...
"eh, no, no, no, no, i don't think so, no no no, definately not...." " well, why then?"
when i really thought about it and boiled it down, it came down to everything i'm learning here. and when i told my mum about this conversation she reminded me that she did a lot of voluntary work herself back when she was a shiny young lady. and that was in her home country! (yeah, i know, i'll work on that when i get home again!) so maybe some people just want to do stuff like that. and some people like him want to hoard all their money and not give a cent to anyone. which is also perfectly fine, i didn't give him a hard time for that...grrrr!
but anyway, now that i'm here as 'assistant operations manager' or whatever it turns out to be, i'm gonna be learning heaps more than i ever thought i would!
so i reckon it's like travelling without the hassle of having to move around. and guess what, while i'm here, i'm doing some pretty good work too for kids, young adults and families that need the help.
happy days.
oh, PS - i need to give a shout out to my friend Joanne, who i do believe is currently hosting a raffle for the benefit of my work here. she's responding to the email i sent out a few weeks back about needing a bit of support. so thanks so much Jo, you're on the list for big hugs when i get home!
and i guess i might as well take the time now to mention my folks, the fabaliss Pat and Kathleen and my bud from all the way back in junior infants, Ems who have already helped out so much with getting my fundraising together while i was still at home, and they're being roped in again in the near future i hope too!
i have a plan!
and hey, if anyone else would like to help? your small efforts would help me reap massive rewards but i need your help at home. let me know if you think you can spare a few hours for me babies, would ya?!
thanks again, to everyone
ead
after three awesome weeks in northern Laos, three stunning weeks in northern Thailand and then three even more wonderful and amazing and fun weeks in Malaysia and southern Thailand with my boy i'm ready to get back into it. i think..!
it's been a manic week already, with a couple of networking meetings and all new volunteers and trying to catch up on everything that's going on, i've been hit with a horrible cold and sore throat to boot so that's not making things any easier. plus, as you can see from my previous post, some of the volunteers have had a rollercoaster of a week and a half with poor little baby Tam, may she rest in peace.
but i'm happy to be back. it's exciting already.
while i was in chiang mai i met a guy who insisted on completely disecting my personality (a little uncomfortable it's got to be said..) he wanted to know WHY i would want to volunteer. was it a previous wrongdoing i was trying to make up for? stereotypical catholic guilt? oh and the list went on...
"eh, no, no, no, no, i don't think so, no no no, definately not...." " well, why then?"
when i really thought about it and boiled it down, it came down to everything i'm learning here. and when i told my mum about this conversation she reminded me that she did a lot of voluntary work herself back when she was a shiny young lady. and that was in her home country! (yeah, i know, i'll work on that when i get home again!) so maybe some people just want to do stuff like that. and some people like him want to hoard all their money and not give a cent to anyone. which is also perfectly fine, i didn't give him a hard time for that...grrrr!
but anyway, now that i'm here as 'assistant operations manager' or whatever it turns out to be, i'm gonna be learning heaps more than i ever thought i would!
so i reckon it's like travelling without the hassle of having to move around. and guess what, while i'm here, i'm doing some pretty good work too for kids, young adults and families that need the help.
happy days.
oh, PS - i need to give a shout out to my friend Joanne, who i do believe is currently hosting a raffle for the benefit of my work here. she's responding to the email i sent out a few weeks back about needing a bit of support. so thanks so much Jo, you're on the list for big hugs when i get home!
and i guess i might as well take the time now to mention my folks, the fabaliss Pat and Kathleen and my bud from all the way back in junior infants, Ems who have already helped out so much with getting my fundraising together while i was still at home, and they're being roped in again in the near future i hope too!
i have a plan!
and hey, if anyone else would like to help? your small efforts would help me reap massive rewards but i need your help at home. let me know if you think you can spare a few hours for me babies, would ya?!
thanks again, to everyone
ead
part of the family
we have all grieved for people we didn't know very well;
for the things they could have been and for the people they leave behind.
today i am grieving for a child i never even met, with a family i'm not related to.
when i arrived back into Da Nang on thursday afternoon, she was already in Saigon. while we were busy holding orientation for the new volunteers on saturday, she was going into surgery.
baby Tam lived at the Red Cross baby orphanage just outside the city. GVN doesn't work there anymore, but some volunteers went to hold a birthday party for another child. when they got there they realised that one of the babies desperately needed help.
Tam had blue baby syndrome, she was not getting enough oxygen into her blood and as a result her lips, fingers and toes were blue and the rest of her a skin very pale. she needed surgery but there was no one to get it for her. no one to care enough to fight for her or find the money.
GVN fought for her though. emails were sent out and money asked for from all directions. the surgery itself cost US$3,250, the total cost of her care would come to roughly $6,500. a very, very small price to pay for such an enormous operation but the money came in by and by.
GVN's biggest problem was getting permission to take her to the hospital to have the surgery - for some reason unknown to us volunteers, negotiations had to be made.
but after a few days, two of our volunteers accompanied the baby, our physiotherapist and a carer for Tam down to Saigon to have an assessment and then surgery. the surgery went perfectly and by the end of the weekend we were all celebrating a job well done by everyone.
but this morning we were told that 18 month old baby Tam passed away due to a lung infection. because she didn't get surgery months and months ago when she needed it first, she was simply too weak to fight off the infection. she tried her very best to hang on all those months but the struggle proved too much in the end.
so this morning as Herdis wept for the baby she had found and tried to save, as Anne, Mark and Phuc felt the overwhelming disappointment for the baby they had journeyed with and celebrated for, as we all experienced the sadness in the air, we grieved in frustration for what could have been done sooner, for who Tam will never be and for our friends who's hearts are broken today.
for the things they could have been and for the people they leave behind.
today i am grieving for a child i never even met, with a family i'm not related to.
when i arrived back into Da Nang on thursday afternoon, she was already in Saigon. while we were busy holding orientation for the new volunteers on saturday, she was going into surgery.
baby Tam lived at the Red Cross baby orphanage just outside the city. GVN doesn't work there anymore, but some volunteers went to hold a birthday party for another child. when they got there they realised that one of the babies desperately needed help.
Tam had blue baby syndrome, she was not getting enough oxygen into her blood and as a result her lips, fingers and toes were blue and the rest of her a skin very pale. she needed surgery but there was no one to get it for her. no one to care enough to fight for her or find the money.
GVN fought for her though. emails were sent out and money asked for from all directions. the surgery itself cost US$3,250, the total cost of her care would come to roughly $6,500. a very, very small price to pay for such an enormous operation but the money came in by and by.
GVN's biggest problem was getting permission to take her to the hospital to have the surgery - for some reason unknown to us volunteers, negotiations had to be made.
but after a few days, two of our volunteers accompanied the baby, our physiotherapist and a carer for Tam down to Saigon to have an assessment and then surgery. the surgery went perfectly and by the end of the weekend we were all celebrating a job well done by everyone.
but this morning we were told that 18 month old baby Tam passed away due to a lung infection. because she didn't get surgery months and months ago when she needed it first, she was simply too weak to fight off the infection. she tried her very best to hang on all those months but the struggle proved too much in the end.
so this morning as Herdis wept for the baby she had found and tried to save, as Anne, Mark and Phuc felt the overwhelming disappointment for the baby they had journeyed with and celebrated for, as we all experienced the sadness in the air, we grieved in frustration for what could have been done sooner, for who Tam will never be and for our friends who's hearts are broken today.
Friday, 3 October 2008
who knew cockroaches could fly?
and some people can't count to three...
i think i was about five years old when my aunt susan first asked me to give her a massage and boy did she made sure to coach me well! and now i'm taking a thai massage course here in chiang mai at the minute to, eh, further my education. there were only two of us started the course on monday and aree is a fantastic teacher. so happy days. and i think if you give a thai massage properly it should be almost as relaxing for the masseuse.
my classmate left today for a few days away so i had to practice on aree and aparently i ain't bad at all. which is great, i'm no perfectionist but i don't much like to take on something unless i think i'll be reasonably good at it - maybe a new career move when i get home if the property market stays on trend?
it's about the only thing keeping me here, i gotta say. chiang mai is pretty and all that but it's almost all couples, everywhere. this whole guesthouse is full of couples (and a couple of pure weirdos..) and worse still, most of them are mainland european so they don't even speak english, which means i can't shoe in on a conversation even if i wanted to. ever thought you'd hear an irish person give out about people not speaking english..?
and the ones who aren't in a couple? well they're mostly the kind of gentleman who thinks he can buy his company, and there are plenty of women in this city who think they have a price. eugh, the conversations i've overheard... they've ranged from banal smalltalk all the way up to vaguely interested smalltalk. over breakfast, over dinner, over coffee. maybe it's easier to make a fool of yourself where no one but your whore knows your name.
sorry to be so judgemental but it's difficult to get away from here and it's starting to get under my skin!
but i have met some nice folks, a couple of indian guys and their nepalese friend who seem to be the only other *appraochable* singletons in town and in a few days i'll be in tourist-couple status too so i guess i'll just keep practicing my massage til then.
and yes, cockroaches can fly as i discovered coming back tonight through the market!
hey, i come from the land where the only real threat or hindrance is the self same water of life that cures all that ails, it's all new to me!
[edit] so just as i posted this blog and logged off the computer, i met a fantastic couple who'd been in chiang mai almost as long as me and was sorry to hear they were leaving the next day. and then i met some more excellent people, one or two solo travellers included! so i was wrong, shame on me!
i think i was about five years old when my aunt susan first asked me to give her a massage and boy did she made sure to coach me well! and now i'm taking a thai massage course here in chiang mai at the minute to, eh, further my education. there were only two of us started the course on monday and aree is a fantastic teacher. so happy days. and i think if you give a thai massage properly it should be almost as relaxing for the masseuse.
my classmate left today for a few days away so i had to practice on aree and aparently i ain't bad at all. which is great, i'm no perfectionist but i don't much like to take on something unless i think i'll be reasonably good at it - maybe a new career move when i get home if the property market stays on trend?
it's about the only thing keeping me here, i gotta say. chiang mai is pretty and all that but it's almost all couples, everywhere. this whole guesthouse is full of couples (and a couple of pure weirdos..) and worse still, most of them are mainland european so they don't even speak english, which means i can't shoe in on a conversation even if i wanted to. ever thought you'd hear an irish person give out about people not speaking english..?
and the ones who aren't in a couple? well they're mostly the kind of gentleman who thinks he can buy his company, and there are plenty of women in this city who think they have a price. eugh, the conversations i've overheard... they've ranged from banal smalltalk all the way up to vaguely interested smalltalk. over breakfast, over dinner, over coffee. maybe it's easier to make a fool of yourself where no one but your whore knows your name.
sorry to be so judgemental but it's difficult to get away from here and it's starting to get under my skin!
but i have met some nice folks, a couple of indian guys and their nepalese friend who seem to be the only other *appraochable* singletons in town and in a few days i'll be in tourist-couple status too so i guess i'll just keep practicing my massage til then.
and yes, cockroaches can fly as i discovered coming back tonight through the market!
hey, i come from the land where the only real threat or hindrance is the self same water of life that cures all that ails, it's all new to me!
[edit] so just as i posted this blog and logged off the computer, i met a fantastic couple who'd been in chiang mai almost as long as me and was sorry to hear they were leaving the next day. and then i met some more excellent people, one or two solo travellers included! so i was wrong, shame on me!
Monday, 29 September 2008
an open letter
(in the hopes that it will pull on at least a few heartstrings)
hey everyone
in just over a month's time i'm returning to Viet Nam to pick up where i left off in august. i'm filling in as operations manager for about six weeks and then will be helping to run one of our placements in the south central provinces in the new year. i feel i need to tell you, in case you don't already know, what's keeping me here.
this boy, Phuc, has changed my life. the first day i met him i was afraid of him, afraid of his deformity and disability, of all i didn't know. now i know i should have been afraid of what he would do to my heart! he has changed everything and awakened in me some unknown feeling that can only be akin to maternal love. he isn't the only child i will be helping when i get back, but he was the first one to break into my heart and you know what they say, the first cut is the deepest...
this child has nothing. owns nothing. does not understand the concept of material possession or desire for such things.he celebrates loudly and joyfully the smallest things that we have all taken for granted everyday of our lives; being picked up, held, talked to, loved, just touched. every pore of his tiny nine year old body exudes the purest happiness and love, lust for a life we could never conceive of.
so this is why i'm staying. Phuc and all the children like him that GVN Vietnam is helping. and they're here for you to see in all their technicolour joy and sadness.
it's three and a half minutes of your life, please turn up the volume and watch. please.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRIHm6lv5bI
if you think there's anything you can do to help them or to help me help them, i'd love to hear from you. it doesn't have to be the $30 a month, it can be a contact who might be able to help, a one off fiver or tenner or something much bigger than all of that. (for example, one or two of you have mentioned parachute jumps, i'm liking that kinda thing! ;)
we always always always need more volunteers too, you could join us even for just a month and who knows what you could do...
even though i'm travelling right now i haven't forgotten these forgotten children.and now i'm hoping that once you've watched this video that you won't forget either.
i'm sorry, i feel like i'm always asking and so many of you have been so good already...but these children can't ask you themselves
hey everyone
in just over a month's time i'm returning to Viet Nam to pick up where i left off in august. i'm filling in as operations manager for about six weeks and then will be helping to run one of our placements in the south central provinces in the new year. i feel i need to tell you, in case you don't already know, what's keeping me here.
this boy, Phuc, has changed my life. the first day i met him i was afraid of him, afraid of his deformity and disability, of all i didn't know. now i know i should have been afraid of what he would do to my heart! he has changed everything and awakened in me some unknown feeling that can only be akin to maternal love. he isn't the only child i will be helping when i get back, but he was the first one to break into my heart and you know what they say, the first cut is the deepest...this child has nothing. owns nothing. does not understand the concept of material possession or desire for such things.he celebrates loudly and joyfully the smallest things that we have all taken for granted everyday of our lives; being picked up, held, talked to, loved, just touched. every pore of his tiny nine year old body exudes the purest happiness and love, lust for a life we could never conceive of.
so this is why i'm staying. Phuc and all the children like him that GVN Vietnam is helping. and they're here for you to see in all their technicolour joy and sadness.
it's three and a half minutes of your life, please turn up the volume and watch. please.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRIHm6lv5bI
if you think there's anything you can do to help them or to help me help them, i'd love to hear from you. it doesn't have to be the $30 a month, it can be a contact who might be able to help, a one off fiver or tenner or something much bigger than all of that. (for example, one or two of you have mentioned parachute jumps, i'm liking that kinda thing! ;)
we always always always need more volunteers too, you could join us even for just a month and who knows what you could do...
even though i'm travelling right now i haven't forgotten these forgotten children.and now i'm hoping that once you've watched this video that you won't forget either.
i'm sorry, i feel like i'm always asking and so many of you have been so good already...but these children can't ask you themselves
love and luck
eadaoin
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
one night,
in a monastery, in laos...
it's about 9.30pm, patrick and i are sitting on the steps of our 'bedroom' for the night.
we're in the grounds of a bhuddist temple about 90km north of vientienne, the capital of laos. i'm on a few days break from my work in vietnam and pat is on his way home from his two months with gvn.
how we got here is a result of our shared lack of any ability to make a proper plan and sheer luck. we've just spent the last hour and a half in the common room of the monks house sharing coffee and conversation with the visiting lao-born-france-dwelling monk.
earlier that evening we stopped across the road to watch a stunning sunset along the river. it just so happened that there was a temple across the road and we went in to have a look around, as we had done a few times during the day. it just so happened that gilbert, the french speaking monk, was visiting for a few days and it just so happened that pat speaks very good french. (i haven't spoken french in about seven years at this stage so even though i understood almost all of the conversations i said little, which in it's own way was quite nice.) somehow, through a misunderstanding as much as anything i think, we are invited to stay the night at the temple.
pat looks at me, did you get that? do you want to stay? the sun has set, we're a good two hours out of the city, i'm driving and we've just been invited to spend the night at a temple, do i want to stay?! this is the kind of experience you could never buy at any overpriced tour agent, the kind of thing you could never plan. and even though the monk tells us he doesn't think they have any moquito nets i'm not going anywhere.
well we did go, to the next village to buy some cigarettes by way of token of appreciation to the monks. we also bought them a pack of cards, not sure what they've done with them, i wonder if they play cards at all? it seemed better than washing powder or soap at the time anyway.
so here we are, sitting on the porch of one of the outbuildings. the monks are chatting upstairs in the house, we can see them, they can see us. our beds, two mats and two very square pillows under one of those cake cover mosquito nets, are behind us on the tiles. the porch is fronted by two roller shutters but the gables are only half walls. we're neither inside nor outside. we're sharing scotch out of a plastic bottle and the moment. the monks disappear and leave us in the quiet of the night. there's a sense of peace and contentment around that i could never describe or explain. no photograph could capture it, but it's there.
we decide it's time to hit the hay, we pull down the shutter, i'm not sure why but it seems like we should. i lie down to sleep shoeless and clothed, hot and happy.
i can't say i slept much though. cats, insects, goats, cars and motobikes are the stuff of the night in the middle of nowhere, laos. i can't say i really minded though, it was part of the whole experience.
then the drums started. 4am, the temple nearest this one. it's a particular rhythm and it's lovely to listen to. but then at 4.30 they started in the temple we were in. i didn't realise it was so loud! of course it's loud, it's supposed to call to all the people, land animals and fish for miles. but i didn't realise how loud that had to be!
there's a drum and a one stringed instrument which is thwanged at particular intervals. in the black of the night, with the reverberations all around it felt almost ominous, the soundtrack to a scary movie.
after that i slept again for another hour or two and woke to daylight. the monks were moving around so i got up. pat was still asleep, one of the best sleeps he's had in years apparently! the monks were in the temple having breakfast.
in the cities they have morning alms where the monks parade around the town and people give them food. in the country the food comes to the monks. the women from the local village carry bowls of fish, vegetables, rice and eggs and eat with the monks in the temple.
pat woke up and we were invited by gilbert to join them. it was delicious. i couldn't eat the fish and gilbert enquired as to my hesitance to eat but pat explained i was allergic and he pointed out all the 'non poissons', even going to get me more eggs. all the while gilbert is smoking, this morning it's a cigar. he explained to us the night before that there isn't really very much for a monk to do once the prayers are done and the novices take care of the grounds so they just mostly sit around smoking. what a life!
while we ate, a woman in her thirties sang. she was dressed in jeans, a vest top and camouflage shirt. she had a beautiful face, the voice of an angel and a crew cut with chunks of hair missing. she was smoking too. and burning bits of paper and fake money in a saucer (a bhuddist tradition) all the while she's singing sort of sean nos style lamentations. gilbert explains to us that she's crazy and gets a cup of water to put out the fire. i wonder how she came to be 'crazy'. was she born like that? did something happen to her? i wonder where her place is in this world? she is tolerated in the temple but i doubt she gets any help. maybe she doesn't need it. but the bald patches on her scalp remind me of a girl in our spc centre in quang ngai and it's obvious she's not happy.
after breakfast gilbert shakes pat's hand and we leave. monks are not allowed to touch women. gilbert was married but became a monk after his wife died. he has a son and i think i remember him saying a daughter too. i don't know if they're allowed to touch female family members. it was facinating listening to him tell us about life as a monk. how the core values are the same but the rules differ from region to region. how his life in france is much different to that of his lao counterparts. it seems a funny picture when i imagine him on the streets of his town in northern france with a jumper on under his bright orange robes.
it's about 9.30pm, patrick and i are sitting on the steps of our 'bedroom' for the night.
we're in the grounds of a bhuddist temple about 90km north of vientienne, the capital of laos. i'm on a few days break from my work in vietnam and pat is on his way home from his two months with gvn.
how we got here is a result of our shared lack of any ability to make a proper plan and sheer luck. we've just spent the last hour and a half in the common room of the monks house sharing coffee and conversation with the visiting lao-born-france-dwelling monk.
earlier that evening we stopped across the road to watch a stunning sunset along the river. it just so happened that there was a temple across the road and we went in to have a look around, as we had done a few times during the day. it just so happened that gilbert, the french speaking monk, was visiting for a few days and it just so happened that pat speaks very good french. (i haven't spoken french in about seven years at this stage so even though i understood almost all of the conversations i said little, which in it's own way was quite nice.) somehow, through a misunderstanding as much as anything i think, we are invited to stay the night at the temple.
pat looks at me, did you get that? do you want to stay? the sun has set, we're a good two hours out of the city, i'm driving and we've just been invited to spend the night at a temple, do i want to stay?! this is the kind of experience you could never buy at any overpriced tour agent, the kind of thing you could never plan. and even though the monk tells us he doesn't think they have any moquito nets i'm not going anywhere.
well we did go, to the next village to buy some cigarettes by way of token of appreciation to the monks. we also bought them a pack of cards, not sure what they've done with them, i wonder if they play cards at all? it seemed better than washing powder or soap at the time anyway.
so here we are, sitting on the porch of one of the outbuildings. the monks are chatting upstairs in the house, we can see them, they can see us. our beds, two mats and two very square pillows under one of those cake cover mosquito nets, are behind us on the tiles. the porch is fronted by two roller shutters but the gables are only half walls. we're neither inside nor outside. we're sharing scotch out of a plastic bottle and the moment. the monks disappear and leave us in the quiet of the night. there's a sense of peace and contentment around that i could never describe or explain. no photograph could capture it, but it's there.
we decide it's time to hit the hay, we pull down the shutter, i'm not sure why but it seems like we should. i lie down to sleep shoeless and clothed, hot and happy.
i can't say i slept much though. cats, insects, goats, cars and motobikes are the stuff of the night in the middle of nowhere, laos. i can't say i really minded though, it was part of the whole experience.
then the drums started. 4am, the temple nearest this one. it's a particular rhythm and it's lovely to listen to. but then at 4.30 they started in the temple we were in. i didn't realise it was so loud! of course it's loud, it's supposed to call to all the people, land animals and fish for miles. but i didn't realise how loud that had to be!
there's a drum and a one stringed instrument which is thwanged at particular intervals. in the black of the night, with the reverberations all around it felt almost ominous, the soundtrack to a scary movie.
after that i slept again for another hour or two and woke to daylight. the monks were moving around so i got up. pat was still asleep, one of the best sleeps he's had in years apparently! the monks were in the temple having breakfast.
in the cities they have morning alms where the monks parade around the town and people give them food. in the country the food comes to the monks. the women from the local village carry bowls of fish, vegetables, rice and eggs and eat with the monks in the temple.
pat woke up and we were invited by gilbert to join them. it was delicious. i couldn't eat the fish and gilbert enquired as to my hesitance to eat but pat explained i was allergic and he pointed out all the 'non poissons', even going to get me more eggs. all the while gilbert is smoking, this morning it's a cigar. he explained to us the night before that there isn't really very much for a monk to do once the prayers are done and the novices take care of the grounds so they just mostly sit around smoking. what a life!
while we ate, a woman in her thirties sang. she was dressed in jeans, a vest top and camouflage shirt. she had a beautiful face, the voice of an angel and a crew cut with chunks of hair missing. she was smoking too. and burning bits of paper and fake money in a saucer (a bhuddist tradition) all the while she's singing sort of sean nos style lamentations. gilbert explains to us that she's crazy and gets a cup of water to put out the fire. i wonder how she came to be 'crazy'. was she born like that? did something happen to her? i wonder where her place is in this world? she is tolerated in the temple but i doubt she gets any help. maybe she doesn't need it. but the bald patches on her scalp remind me of a girl in our spc centre in quang ngai and it's obvious she's not happy.
after breakfast gilbert shakes pat's hand and we leave. monks are not allowed to touch women. gilbert was married but became a monk after his wife died. he has a son and i think i remember him saying a daughter too. i don't know if they're allowed to touch female family members. it was facinating listening to him tell us about life as a monk. how the core values are the same but the rules differ from region to region. how his life in france is much different to that of his lao counterparts. it seems a funny picture when i imagine him on the streets of his town in northern france with a jumper on under his bright orange robes.
my motobike and me
two days in the mountains in northern Thailand
sadly enough, due to a seriously crappy internet cafe in chiang rai, i have lost the few photos i took of this trip. but most were of windy roads and the like so they probably weren't that interesting to you anyway. in an effort to illustrate this entry though, i have found a few pictures on the internet, so they're all stolen but are somewhat representative of what i did see.
what i did see was amazing, stunning. possibly the most beautiful countryside i have ever experienced. if i had taken a photo every time i had wanted to i would never have gotten anywhere. i left chiang rai at around 10am on saturday morning. after i got out of the city limits i pulled over to fix my backpack to the seat behind me only to notice this rather violent hissing noise which i quickly realised was coming from my back tire. oooops. i'd checked everything, the lights, brakes, indicators, all that jazz. i'd forgotten to look at the tires though, the back one was so bald that a tiny piece of broken glass had managed to rip it.
*insert expletive here*
so i went to a tire place that just so happened to be a little up the road, got the tire pumped to near bursting point and made my way back to the rental place as quick as i could. and i nearly made it! except by the time i was within 200m of the place i had to give up, get off the bike and push it. *insert stronger expletive here, about 10 times*
is this a sign, maybe i shouldn't go...? or maybeeeee, now that i've taken the bike back and the owner is more than happy to give me another one it's just luck that i'm getting a way better bike. even if it did cost me over an hour.
so back on the road, my vague plan is to head a community that has opened itself to tourists in a pilot scheme where they actually get some of the profits and the guides are actual locals. (may seem like common sense to you but see the bit the long neck karen people at the end). then i was going to go to mae sai for the night via doi tung and back to chiang rai via the infamous golden triangle.
first stop was a waterfall that just happened to be signposted and i figured i may as well have a look. for some reason the image of the venus razor ad popped into my head and i decided to shave my legs while i was here. i know it sounds daft but it was fun in the you-don't-do-this-everyday kind of way. and the water was so lovely and cold and i thoroughly enjoyed myself! if i had a picture of course i'd post it, but you can see me now can't you? long legged and suntanned....eh, yeah! well i have a great tan but my legs will never be long, only in my dreams!
on my way back to the bike a group of thai boys called me over to their spot by the river. as soon as i got there i was presented with a shot of thai whisky, well it was only small and it felt rude to refuse! so the usual, where are you from, what's your name and all that came next. they introduced themselves, names i cannot pronounce or remember. i noticed the almost empty 'water' bottle and then realised they were all pretty drunk. and it was still only 1.30
they had a guitar and after the photoshoot was over, they love the photos, they asked me if i knew zombie. hilarious, i couldn't name you one thai singer but they knew the cranberries and that they were irish and the guy almost knew the chords. (well, he may have known them but he was probably just too drunk.)
so after singing (all filmed by their impromtu camera man) and refusing about five more shots of whisky i left them to it. not before they'd asked me where i was going though. and like all the thai seem to do, they gave me directions. it's lovely. initially, i thought it was just conversation or curiosity, but this question is borne out of a genuine desire to make sure you're going where you want to go. they're all tourist information points by choice. i've never experienced that before!
at the village, ban lorcha, i was led around the village by a woman who kept insisting i take photos of everything. even though i knew this place was the best place to go to see the hilltribe people and feel like i wasn't intruding i still felt like i was intruding. as soon as i'd taken the picture off we'd go again. she doesn't speak any english, like most of the guides, but there are posters up at the relevant points to explain everything.
at the end i met a girl called nittya, a 17 year old local girl who studies in the next city and comes back at weekends. she was embroidering as we chatted and the work was beautiful. her english wasn't great but it was enough to get by; maybe a few months ago i wouldn't have been able to have a converstion with her but my simple english is pretty good now and i'm getting better at guessing what people are trying to say! best bit was when she was asking me if i was married and instead of the usual gesture to the ring finger she started to hum the wedding march, brilliant! she told me about how she was christian and how some of the people in the village are actually bhuddist, as if they were thick or something. it was funny, in a pretty judgemental way.
after that i headed up into the hills and this is where the fun started. i was up and down gears at the rate of knots. the roads inclined at ungodly degrees and the only variety in bends was between hairpin and 90 degree. i've never thought it was possible to have to break going uphill before but i now know that it is. and i wasn't even going that fast, i couldn't. i kept getting shocked by these absolutely arresting views down to where i'd just come from or the valleys on either side. it was so beautiful, i couldn't even show you many pictures if i did have them, i was too busy just enjoying them for myself to take any pictures.
i did stop to take a photo of the sun setting over the mountains but never got to take it. as i took the camera out of the case i realised i had almost no gas left. ooops, again. so, a little distracted, i put the camera away and headed off to find some gas.
eh, where exactly? i wasn't near any town, at all.
so i ploughed on. this particular sign put me in mind of the art of freewheeling. saving gas and the environment all at once, fantastic! i was reminded of my dad as i turned off the ignition (with my left hand, right hand and foot firmly on the brakes). the night he did a 'magic trick' and drove most of the way home from cavan without the engine on. i thought it was amazing, how did that work? i think i was probably about four. it was probably that time when petrol got ridiculously expensive and families spent their sundays crossing the border to get it cheaper. 
by the way, i'm quite aware that the idea of the low gear is to get more traction than freewheeling could provide but it was 'E for eadaoin on empty' and the brakes were good so i went for it.
the needle was now below empty. below empty. i didn't know it could go below E, was i running on fumes or what? i pulled over at the bottom of a hill and checked the tank, there was still a bit left. a bit...
a big black chevrolet suv pulled over and a man got out to see if i was ok, a man on his holidays with some friends from bangkok. he looked in, looked at the reserve tank, told me i was ok for another 10 or 20 km at least and gave me his phone number to call if i was in trouble or just to let him know i was ok. i feel like i'm being disloyal to vietnam when i say this, but i think the thais are my favourite people in se asia.
so, i got gas, first a bottle of about 80c worth from a shop and then i filled the tank a little further on. remember how i mentioned that it was sunset when i'd noticed? well it was pitch black by now and i was nowhere near where i had intended to stay for the night. so i asked the guy at the petrol station where i could stay for the night and he pointed down the road a bit.
for a massive $10 i got the most beautiful double bed, clean, new looking white white sheets, a television, (i'd forgotten they existed!), a hot shower, a sink that didn't empty onto the floor, a fridge, and my very own frog to keep me company. we made an agreement, if he didn't hop up onto the bed i wouldn't bother him either. i think he kept his side, i think i was too tired to even notice.
next morning it was beautiful. i headed back about 15km to doi tung where the kings mother kept a villa while she was renewing the local area by replacing the opium plantations with forestry. i know little about the thai royal family but this was worth it just for the house.
teak floors, walls of pine salvaged from transport crates, stunning art work and there was a real sense of love for this woman in the whole house. she died around 10 years ago but the house is still used by her granddaughter once a year while she carries on her grandmother's work. this was an ordinary woman elevated to the status of the king's mother late in her life. she was the original celebrity do gooder, using her new found status to change thailand for the better; to encourage education, eliminate opium plantations and all the while cook for her family and garden and still be an ordinary woman. i think i'd like to have met her!
the weather had turned now and it was miserable, bucketing down. i asked a woman where i could buy a rain coat, she offered me hers for about $5! after she'd assured me she could get another one (well i hope that was what she was saying) i gladly took it off her.
i must admit, i regretted it a little when i got back on the bike and noticed it smelled sort of like a fart that no one i know would admit to....but it was raining and i could only smell it if i sniffed the coat, which, eh, i refrained from.
back down the hill (more freewheeling, just for the fun) and i was on my way to the golden triangle, the place where myanmar, laos and thailand meet. where most of the opium trading was carried out. it is, as the lonely planet describes it, 'an all out tourist trap', but it was intersting all the same and the town next to it had a fish market with hundreds of eels leaping up out of the water in the bottoms of buckets and crates and plastic bags. a sight in itself.
after that i headed back to chiang rai via mae sai, the most northern town in thailand. it was a town like any other, about ten seven-elevens and tons of guest houses and hotels. i had given my passport as collateral for the bike so i couldn't go to myanmar just for the stamp. it's starting to get a bit full anyway, what with all these vietnamese visas i keep having to get...
i got back to chiang rai at 4.30 so i decided to head south to see the white temple everyone kept talking about. this part of the world is full of temples. you've seen one wat, you've seen 'em all. so i don't know what i was expecting but this place definately wasn't it.
it's just surreal. like a fairytale, some sort of religious theme park or narnia's temple.
the entire building and surrounds are pure white, decorated with mirror mosaic. it was beautiful.
the inside was the strangest though, the mural inside depicted, as well as bhudda, aliens, skyscrapers, spaceships, wristwatches and i am not joking, neo from the matrix. are these the evils of this world today? that coupled with the wax monk sitting in front of the bhudda sort of compounded the theme park idea but it didn't detract from the sheer beauty of the outside of the building.
fin.
the long necked karen tribespeople in northern thailand:
burmese refugees rounded up and placed in to synthetic villages designed for tourists to see all the various tribespeople at once. a themepark, a human zoo. these people have escaped the war and refugee camps in their homecountry only to be led in to this equally redundant (albeit not as dangerous) life in thailand. they are bought by businessmen, taken to live in these villages and paid to sit around and have their picture taken, sell some trinkets maybe. the men don't get paid, they get food allowance. they're not photogenic enough to pay, they don't wear the brass neck rings.
it's difficult enough to be a responsible tourist, hard to know who's for real, but it's not hard to know that this sort of exploitation is disgusting. the thai hilltribe museums seem to be doing a fair bit of campaigning to stop this practice but it occurs to me that the only way it is still happening is if stupid tourists are still going. eugh.
TalesofAsiaPaduang
what i did see was amazing, stunning. possibly the most beautiful countryside i have ever experienced. if i had taken a photo every time i had wanted to i would never have gotten anywhere. i left chiang rai at around 10am on saturday morning. after i got out of the city limits i pulled over to fix my backpack to the seat behind me only to notice this rather violent hissing noise which i quickly realised was coming from my back tire. oooops. i'd checked everything, the lights, brakes, indicators, all that jazz. i'd forgotten to look at the tires though, the back one was so bald that a tiny piece of broken glass had managed to rip it.
*insert expletive here*
so i went to a tire place that just so happened to be a little up the road, got the tire pumped to near bursting point and made my way back to the rental place as quick as i could. and i nearly made it! except by the time i was within 200m of the place i had to give up, get off the bike and push it. *insert stronger expletive here, about 10 times*
is this a sign, maybe i shouldn't go...? or maybeeeee, now that i've taken the bike back and the owner is more than happy to give me another one it's just luck that i'm getting a way better bike. even if it did cost me over an hour.
so back on the road, my vague plan is to head a community that has opened itself to tourists in a pilot scheme where they actually get some of the profits and the guides are actual locals. (may seem like common sense to you but see the bit the long neck karen people at the end). then i was going to go to mae sai for the night via doi tung and back to chiang rai via the infamous golden triangle.
on my way back to the bike a group of thai boys called me over to their spot by the river. as soon as i got there i was presented with a shot of thai whisky, well it was only small and it felt rude to refuse! so the usual, where are you from, what's your name and all that came next. they introduced themselves, names i cannot pronounce or remember. i noticed the almost empty 'water' bottle and then realised they were all pretty drunk. and it was still only 1.30
they had a guitar and after the photoshoot was over, they love the photos, they asked me if i knew zombie. hilarious, i couldn't name you one thai singer
so after singing (all filmed by their impromtu camera man) and refusing about five more shots of whisky i left them to it. not before they'd asked me where i was going though. and like all the thai seem to do, they gave me directions. it's lovely. initially, i thought it was just conversation or curiosity, but this question is borne out of a genuine desire to make sure you're going where you want to go. they're all tourist information points by choice. i've never experienced that before!
at the village, ban lorcha, i was led around the village by a woman who kept insisting i take photos of everything. even though i knew this place was the best place to go to see the hilltribe people and feel like i wasn't intruding i still felt like i was intruding. as soon as i'd taken the picture off we'd go again. she doesn't speak any english, like most of the guides, but there are posters up at the relevant points to explain everything.
at the end i met a girl called nittya, a 17 year old local girl who studies in the next city and comes back at weekends. she was embroidering as we chatted and the work was beautiful. her english wasn't great but it was enough to get by; maybe a few months ago i wouldn't have been able to have a converstion with her but my simple english is pretty good now and i'm getting better at guessing what people are trying to say! best bit was when she was asking me if i was married and instead of the usual gesture to the ring finger she started to hum the wedding march, brilliant! she told me about how she was christian and how some of the people in the village are actually bhuddist, as if they were thick or something. it was funny, in a pretty judgemental way.
after that i headed up into the hills and this is where the fun started. i was up and down gears at the rate of knots. the roads inclined at ungodly degrees and the only variety in bends was between hairpin and 90 degree. i've never thought it was possible to have to break going uphill before but i now know that it is. and i wasn't even going that fast, i couldn't. i kept getting shocked by these absolutely arresting views down to where i'd just come from or the valleys on either side. it was so beautiful, i couldn't even show you many pictures if i did have them, i was too busy just enjoying them for myself to take any pictures.
i did stop to take a photo of the sun setting over the mountains but never got to take it. as i took the camera out of the case i realised i had almost no gas left. ooops, again. so, a little distracted, i put the camera away and headed off to find some gas.
eh, where exactly? i wasn't near any town, at all.
so i ploughed on. this particular sign put me in mind of the art of freewheeling. saving gas and the environment all at once, fantastic! i was reminded of my dad as i turned off the ignition (with my left hand, right hand and foot firmly on the brakes). the night he did a 'magic trick' and drove most of the way home from cavan without the engine on. i thought it was amazing, how did that work? i think i was probably about four. it was probably that time when petrol got ridiculously expensive and families spent their sundays crossing the border to get it cheaper.
by the way, i'm quite aware that the idea of the low gear is to get more traction than freewheeling could provide but it was 'E for eadaoin on empty' and the brakes were good so i went for it.the needle was now below empty. below empty. i didn't know it could go below E, was i running on fumes or what? i pulled over at the bottom of a hill and checked the tank, there was still a bit left. a bit...
a big black chevrolet suv pulled over and a man got out to see if i was ok, a man on his holidays with some friends from bangkok. he looked in, looked at the reserve tank, told me i was ok for another 10 or 20 km at least and gave me his phone number to call if i was in trouble or just to let him know i was ok. i feel like i'm being disloyal to vietnam when i say this, but i think the thais are my favourite people in se asia.
so, i got gas, first a bottle of about 80c worth from a shop and then i filled the tank a little further on. remember how i mentioned that it was sunset when i'd noticed? well it was pitch black by now and i was nowhere near where i had intended to stay for the night. so i asked the guy at the petrol station where i could stay for the night and he pointed down the road a bit.
for a massive $10 i got the most beautiful double bed, clean, new looking white white sheets, a television, (i'd forgotten they existed!), a hot shower, a sink that didn't empty onto the floor, a fridge, and my very own frog to keep me company. we made an agreement, if he didn't hop up onto the bed i wouldn't bother him either. i think he kept his side, i think i was too tired to even notice.
next morning it was beautiful. i headed back about 15km to doi tung where the kings mother kept a villa while she was renewing the local area by replacing the opium plantations with forestry. i know little about the thai royal family but this was worth it just for the house.
teak floors, walls of pine salvaged from transport crates, stunning art work and there was a real sense of love for this woman in the whole house. she died around 10 years ago but the house is still used by her granddaughter once a year while she carries on her grandmother's work. this was an ordinary woman elevated to the status of the king's mother late in her life. she was the original celebrity do gooder, using her new found status to change thailand for the better; to encourage education, eliminate opium plantations and all the while cook for her family and garden and still be an ordinary woman. i think i'd like to have met her!
the weather had turned now and it was miserable, bucketing down. i asked a woman where i could buy a rain coat, she offered me hers for about $5! after she'd assured me she could get another one (well i hope that was what she was saying) i gladly took it off her.
i must admit, i regretted it a little when i got back on the bike and noticed it smelled sort of like a fart that no one i know would admit to....but it was raining and i could only smell it if i sniffed the coat, which, eh, i refrained from.
back down the hill (more freewheeling, just for the fun) and i was on my way to the golden triangle, the place where myanmar, laos and thailand meet. where most of the opium trading was carried out. it is, as the lonely planet describes it, 'an all out tourist trap', but it was intersting all the same and the town next to it had a fish market with hundreds of eels leaping up out of the water in the bottoms of buckets and crates and plastic bags. a sight in itself.
after that i headed back to chiang rai via mae sai, the most northern town in thailand. it was a town like any other, about ten seven-elevens and tons of guest houses and hotels. i had given my passport as collateral for the bike so i couldn't go to myanmar just for the stamp. it's starting to get a bit full anyway, what with all these vietnamese visas i keep having to get...
i got back to chiang rai at 4.30 so i decided to head south to see the white temple everyone kept talking about. this part of the world is full of temples. you've seen one wat, you've seen 'em all. so i don't know what i was expecting but this place definately wasn't it.
it's just surreal. like a fairytale, some sort of religious theme park or narnia's temple.
the entire building and surrounds are pure white, decorated with mirror mosaic. it was beautiful.
the inside was the strangest though, the mural inside depicted, as well as bhudda, aliens, skyscrapers, spaceships, wristwatches and i am not joking, neo from the matrix. are these the evils of this world today? that coupled with the wax monk sitting in front of the bhudda sort of compounded the theme park idea but it didn't detract from the sheer beauty of the outside of the building.
fin.
the long necked karen tribespeople in northern thailand:
it's difficult enough to be a responsible tourist, hard to know who's for real, but it's not hard to know that this sort of exploitation is disgusting. the thai hilltribe museums seem to be doing a fair bit of campaigning to stop this practice but it occurs to me that the only way it is still happening is if stupid tourists are still going. eugh.
TalesofAsiaPaduang
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