Tag Archives: Southeast Asia

Vietnam Vicareously

17 Jun

Vietnam is another place I’ve had many many daydreams about since I was a child.  There is something I find awe inspiring about the gracious grittiness of countries (their people and environment) that have rebuilt themselves, with relative grace, after enduring major deadly conflict.  And in some unknown way, retain purity.  There is also something special about a land that is a melting pot of religious philosophies – Buddhism, Confuscionism, Taoism, and (of course) Animism.

Streets of Vietnam with bikes and motos

Over the years I have painted a landscape of Vietnam in the figments of my imagination.  I envision a country with rich fertile land, where strong sharp mountains, meet rolling hills and then marry the land with the warm waters of the South China Sea.  I’ve dreamt about the people (lots of people) of this marvelous land, the oldest civilization of Southeastern Asia, and their passion for living from the land.  Hillsides dotted with little villages (or langs) dedicated to rice farming, and subsistence agriculture.  Warm people, with brilliant smiles underneath the cobwebs of war and dust of daily life on a farm.

Fresh fruits and vegetables in a Vietnamese market

And then there are the cities.  Oh how I love cities as much as I love rural farming villages.  Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City… I have yet to explore them.  I have fleeting images of them in mind…. streets filled with bycicles and motorcycles.  A thousand pungent aromas intermixed into one.  The thrashing of pots and pans and raspy grating sound from fresh coconut.  Bartering in the open air market as beads of sweat pour down a man’s face.  Young babies carefully wrapped in fabric and tied to their mothers as they walk to the market.  Young men walking around with stubbed legs from land mines and missing limbs from leprosy.  Dog barking and roosters crowing.  Endearing smiles and honest eyes.  Crisp and delicious bean sprouts, basil, mint, and happiness.  This is how I envision the people of Vietnam and its landscape.

Traditional cooking stoves in VietnamSo lets go back to why I titled this blog… Vietnam Vicareously…  At this very moment two of my good friends are en route to Southeast Asia where they will meet-up in Singapore with one of my lifelong best friends and travel to Vietnam.  I must admit, I am slightly envious and very excited for them.  It will be an incredible trip.  It has inspired me to share my Vietnamese daydreams that will someday be fulfilled.  Vietnam has a special place in my heart.  Most of these daydreams came from the stories my father told me growing-up from his years in Vietnam during the war.  Most of the stories he shared were not about bombshells, grenades, or land mines.  Rather they were about the people, the culture, the food, and his fond memories.  I appreciate that amidst the violence, he was able to garner a sense of place of the fine ancient land and all it encumbers.  There are stories he would share with me at bedtime as a young girl that I’ll cherish forever.  Its the little things.  The Vietnamese teaching him how to eat with chopsticks using hot oily peanuts.  The rice fields and terraces, lush and green.  Authentic Vietnamese dinners on floating rivers in the Saigon river.  Devine Vietnamese coffees.  Little anecdotes of daily life in Vietnam.  Its through these stories growing-up, the travels of my best friend Dani, and many years and many daydreams that I’ve “traveled” vicareously to Vietnam.  I am forever grateful to both of them and hope that someday I may know this gracious land and all its people.

Life on the Mekong river delta

A sage lets go of

extremism

lets go of luxury

lets go of

apathy.

– Lao Tzu

Photos courtesy of Dani Carrier, 2012.

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Virtues from Asia

15 Aug

Color photo of Author Walking through the forest in Thailand

My time traveling through Asia has come to end.  So much to absorb, its almost sensory overload… I’ve only shared just a few ounces with you through this blog but I am sure I will “travel to Asia” again through my writing.  I have just one word to sum up the experience – Gratitude.  I could go on to list the multitude of moments during this trip that have taken my breath away, that I am forever grateful for.  However, here are 5  Buddhist words of wisdom that I learned in more ways than one during this adventure through Southeast Asia.  I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey!

  1. Personal Growth – He who experiences the unity of life sees his own Self in all beings, and all beings in his own Self, and looks on everything with an impartial eye.
  2. Family & Love – A family is a place where minds come in contact with one another. If these minds love one another the home will be as beautiful as a flower garden. But if these minds get out of harmony with one another it is like a storm that plays havoc with the garden.
  3. Paradigm – Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.
  4. Life Philosophy – I never see what has been done; I only see what remains to be done…There is nothing so disobedient as an undisciplined mind, and there is nothing so obedient as a disciplined mind.
  5. Professional Growth – An idea that is developed and put into action is more important than an idea that exists only as an idea.
Khop Chai Lai Lai Deu – ຂອບໃຈຫຼາຍໆເດີ

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All Shall Be Revealed!

7 Aug

I can’t believe its been over a month since I came back from my “once in a lifetime” rendezvous in Southeast Asia, and I regret to report that I’ve been in overdrive running a million miles. Needless to say that is my life in the “202”, that 68 square mile diamond-shaped swath of land, where my life revolves around all the seemingly irrelevant facts of life – politics, money, power, and a dose of healthy intellectual stimulation every now and then. Basically when I landed at Dulles Airport, I bounced right back into the groove of this rat race almost like I had never left, except for the 200 or so people that were waiting for responses to emails or returned calls. Yikes! No time for reflection.

Letting your mind travel back in time is such a fun escape from the madness. So amidst the organized chaos of my daily life I chose today to get back where I left off… Northern Laos.

I woke up this morning to, what I thought, was some major parade and festival filling the streets with music and people celebrating. All I can hear is a myriad of different instruments and people singing and talking from my second floor hostel room. Its about 6:00am and the sun has just risen, I scurried about the room to get myself together and ran out the door and down the hall to the front balcony of the hostel. There is no parade or festival in the slightest way. Instead a group of 3 Lao men are simply celebrating life. there they are in the front yard area of the little house next to the hostel making music! They are just having a good ol’ time (seemingly sober too) singing, playing guitar, hitting the kong, and playing a few other instruments. And this I suppose is just daily life in Laos being revealed to me in yet another color. At this very moment, I realize that (much like the 20+ hour boat ride) I really had no idea what was ahead of me. Hence the title of this blog – All Shall be Revealed!

After a short 5-10 minute video on “safety” at the headquarters of the Gibbon Experience (but don’t be misguided by the website, be sure to checkout these reviews on Trip Advisor, they are most accurate) I hopped in back of a pick-up truck with my backpack and we were off. We sped through curvy mountain roads along what appeared to be the only paved road around. We passed through beautiful rice patties and terraces, swaths of forest, and occassionally we came to a halting stop for some cows that were basking in the sun in the middle of the road. After about an hour we made a short pit stop at a little road-side hut selling basic provisions, then back in the truck and we were off down a dirt road driving through small rivers and all the rest. We had just picked-up a young man as well (whose name is Yia Lao) who we learn is our “guide” for the our jungle tree house adventure.

After about an hour and a half we arrived at a small village surrounded by astute lush & green mountains. This is where we grab our packs and get with the five or so other travelers in the truck – and we are off by foot following our guide into the thick mysterious jungles of Northern Laos. We walked through some streams, rice paddies, and lots of thick rich mud. We stopped at a little bamboo & wood shelter that is the equivalent of a “base camp”. We drank water, ate a sandwich, and then strapped on a bulky old harness that would become our “life line” as we fly through the tree tops. And there it was, the only “map” we ever saw of the trails and zip lines we would be spending the next several days on. Eventually we entered trails in the forest and that is where the fun began. I wasn’t more than a few hundred feet into the forest when I became lunch for the leeches. With my every step they “jumped aboard” my hiking shoes, some went right through my shoes & socks, and others climbed up my shoes and onto my legs where they latched on for a meal. At any given point I’d have 1-5 of these blood sucking leeches on my legs. Totally gross squirmy parasites! Now I’ve backpacked a lot in many other tropical rainforest in very undeveloped countries but I have NEVER had to deal with this quantity of nasty persistent leeches. And well its fair to say that this was my welcome to the Gibbon Experience…

I continued onwards, leeches and all, hiking up hills in dense bamboo forests. The hiking was beautiful, energizing, and challenging all at the same – I love the feeling of nature testing my limits. The forest was mostly “secondary” forest, meaning that it had once been clear-cut pasture land and natural succession brought forth new forest growth. Most of the trees stood tall and swaths of bamboo bent and swayed with the winds. It was enchanting.

After a few hours of hiking we arrived at the first platform. Yia Lao gave a 30 second refresher on the procedure for “clipping” onto the line & the minimum safety basics on checking your harness and caribeaner. That was the first & last time we even did so much as talk about safety. Its a case of, here you are and here you go. Live it or loose it. Here we gave our harnesses one last blessing and one at a time we clipped the carribeaner to the metal cable waiting for the person ahead of us to reach the next platform, said a prayer, lifted our legs into the air. And vavoom – there I was flying across a valley of dense foliage, some 800+ feet in the air, at a speed of somewhere between 20-30 miles/hour, for nearly an entire kilometer or more. I was careful to keep my legs poised upwards so to keep my body (weighed down with a heavy pack) perfectly postured and balanced with the cable. I did not want to even do so much as risk stopping (or spinning) mid way across the zipline. It was exhilerating… I looked around and all I could see were these vast tropical forested mountains. Below me I could see a small river valley and a herd of water buffalo. Here I am in Northern Laos, flying through the landscape. A reality beyond my wildest dreams.

A dozen or so zips later, each time counting my blessings, and we arrived at our tree house. Yes, a real treehouse perched 600 feet on a beautiful tree in the Bokeo Nature Reserve. Its the kind of tree house I dreamt about as a child. Its incredibly rustic and beautiful. I am in complete awe at my surroundings. So far from anything remotely considered civilization. No cell phone signal, no signs of even a near-by village. Just this group of adventurous spirits, Yia Lao, and the flora & fauna of Bokeo. If you’re having a hard time visualizing it, think of the landscape of Pandora in the movie Avatar. Yup, that is Bokeo, and that is what you come to the Gibbon Experience to feel and be one with.

We laid thin sleeping pads out onto the wooden planked floor of the tree house, chilled out and ate some fresh mango. This is not what you would envision as a “luxury” tree house by any stretch of the imagination. All that separates you from the tree house and falling out is a mediocre wooden guardrail. There is no safety net to catch you if you are careless or a ladder to come down if the metal zip cable breaks from a tree that feel in the night after it was struck by lightening (just think about that for a couple of minutes and you will get what I am insinuating). I eat a piece of juicy mango and pop a lyche fruit into my mouth, Life is Good for now. Then I decided to explore the bathroom. I push back the little curtain and viola – Asian squat toilet, why of course! Only this time its 600 feet up in the air. The best thing of all was taking a shower. Here I was, totally isolated, high in a tree house, surrounded by nature. I reached over the wooden rail to turn the water lever on and glorious rainwater poured over my body. I starred out into the lush hills. I looked down and saw the rainwater sprinkling down into the tree and there were also water buffalo grazing in the valley. This was the best, most cleansing, outdoor shower of my life!

A couple of hours later it was dinner time. Yia Lao graciously zipped into the tree house with a bag carrying our food. A bamboo rice carrier was filled with sticky rice and a stack of 4 metal tins contained our food. Each tin had a different dish. Forest gathered mushrooms stewed in broth & spice, sauteed greens from a local garden, and morsels of succulent pork with chile. It was divine.

As the sun began to go down the clouds rolled in and skies opened-up. Rain poured down all around us. Lightening and thunder also roared in. There were some leaks in the thatched tree house roof but it didn’t matter. The sound of the rain pattering on all of the trees and leaves took over the ambience. It was so peaceful and cleansing. There we were in the clouds as they fed the forest with life energy. We sat around on the wooden tree house floor and played a few games of cards, talked, and drank a cup of funky Lao wine. We then pulled out these large pieces of black fabric and draped them over our sleeping pads, like the kind of tents or shelters you make with blankets & boxes as kids. We each slept below these draped fabrics to keep the mosquitos, spiders, and tree rats out. I slept just a few inches from the edge of the tree house, next to the railing. No rolling over too far, or well, you may just roll out of the tree house. It was just fine. And I slept wondefully listening to the music of the birds and the bees.

I awoke at sunrise, pulled the fabric up, and looked over the railing. There before my eyes was an incredible sunrise. Clouds hung in the trees & valleys below and around me. In the distance the sun slowly revealed her life force to all that remained in Northern Laos. Complete serenity. It was magical.

I don’t really know what to say next. The next several days were filled with much the same. “Same same but different” as they say in Asia. It was breathtaking, spiritual, challenging, fun, uncomfortable, really freaking scary all at the same time. Each moment revealed something new and unexpected. I “graciously” overcame my fear of heights and enjoyed it in the process. I developed a new appreciation for safety and the safety regulations of the “developed” world. I learned that I am no longer the fearless 20 year old I used to be. I am not invincible. I realized that cherish life more now than I used to. I spent time in nature a way I never had before. And well I gave a few ounces of my blood to the leeches of Bokeo Nature Reserve.

Was it worth the long boat ride, tests of patience & sheer discomfort. Absolutely YES. But I am honest in sharing that as glorious as the Gibbon Experience was, I will never do it again. Why? Simply because I know that I am not invincible. And it was NOT safe at all. I take risks all the time. But relying on worn-out harnesses & equipment as your life line to fly through the forest – and a complete lack of basic safety & first aid by your “guide” – made it glaringly obvious that safety was hardly a consideration. So lack of safety revealed, Bokeo was incredible and I am forever changed by all it has taught me.

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Trials & Tribulations of Travel

28 Jun

Color photo of a long boat on the Mekong River

As I write this I am at hour 7 of my second day traveling up the Mekong River by long-boat.  This mode of travel should be more appropriately titled SLOW boat.  I’ve estimated that we are moving at a pace of about 5-10 miles per hour.  Yesterday, with an overflowing boat, it took us over 10 hours to travel less than 100 miles.  All I can do is sigh and take a deep breadth… I am just so not used to this pace of life.  I’ve found myself totally conflicted by the rat race I run everyday at home in Washington, DC.  This really is the slowest I’ve moved in a days time in the past 6 years.  I guess if nothing else can get me to slow down and relax, well Laos certainly can.  And quite simply I don’t have a choice so I had better pull my head together and suck it up.  And in coming to terms with the fact that I have another 5 more hours to go in this long & slow boat better leave it with my favorite anecdote – in life there is a reason for everything.

Color photo of man rowing a dug out canoe

So why have I taken a 20+ hour slow boat journey up the Mekong River in the first place?  For one, I didn’t know this when I purchased the boat ticket two days ago but it really wouldn’t have had made a bit of difference if I had known, I would have had to travel this distance (and this slow) no matter what.  I suppose if I had known how long this would take I would have mentally prepared myself, brought water & food – and I certainly would have arrived at the boat launch well in advance so we didn’t have to [literally] push and shove to get seats on the boat.  It was so overloaded with people, motorcycles, sacs of rice, produce, bicycles, and everything in between that there weren’t enough seats on the boat for all the passengers.  Some of the long boats even carried goats, chickens, and ducks on the roof.  Though luckily we did manage to get seats, even if it meant sitting three people to 2 seats in hot and humid weather.  Let me tell you how fun this was! [sarcasm] And well actually I really didn’t have it as bad as some.  I had a seat next to a Dutch backpacker which lead to some good conversations that helped to pass the time.  But that wasn’t the only entertainment we had for the 10 hours.  The majority of the boat passengers were young (ages 20-30) Lao traveling from Luang Prabang to their homes in rural villages that are scattered along the edges of the Mekong River.  Most of them were quiet and reserved.  Some traveled as boyfriend-girlfriend couples.  While some groups of girls played card games and giggled for hours.

Then there was the back of the boat.  Now that is where all the “action” was – or however much “action” there can possibly be on a jam-packed wooden boat that is barely 9 feet wide.  But it did lead to the highlight of the day.  In the back of the boat there were a few young Laos (guys and gals) drinking the one and only BeerLao – for over 10 hours, laughing, eating sticky rice, and simply trying to have a good time.  Next thing I knew I turned my head to look at what the ruckus was and there in the back of the boat was one of my good friends (who I’ve been travelling with) hanging out with a glass of BeerLao and attempting to communicate with the half-drunken group in the back.  And well, this all lead to ongoing entertainment for the rest of the trip.  As the hours went by, they all continued to guzzle down BeerLao towards a drunken stupor.  I didn’t join them because I was on the verge of the infamous traveling “stomach bug” – if you know what I mean.  But every few hours we all had to “pay our dues” and visit the loo in the back of the boat.  Let me share with you a vision of the “loo” on the slow boat.  You push open a rickety wooden door and inside the door are a pair of old plastic sandals.  You leave your shoes outside the bathroom and slip on the wet nasty plastic sandals.  The floor inside is old & weathered ceramic with a small oddly star-shaped opening cut into the wooden side of the boat so you have some light.  A few pairs of old mens’ underwear and a womans’ bra is draped over a basket with used toilet paper.  Then there is the lovely Asian squat toilet. [sarcasm, again].  It’s a ceramic square with a hole in it – you peer down and you see the river water down below.  Now its time to test this interesting device.  You carefully squat, ensuring you keep your balance as the boat sways back and forth)and aim into the hole.  Meanwhile a concoction of river water and urine sloshes around your feet, and if you have bad aim your urine will join the rest of the sloshing mix.  A plastic grocery bag filled with traditional Lao herbs hangs on a rusty nail in the corner, attempting to curb the noxious aroma of urine and poo.  Be very careful not to lose your balance, or else you will fall either into the Asian toilet or the nasty liquid mess.  Another good reason to avoid drinking too much BeerLao on the boat.  Well I am pleased to report that by the end of this journey I did in fact “master” the Asian squat toilet.

The Asian Squat Toilet on the boat looked kind of like this, but this one is actually a bit nicer.

This boat trip has proven to be yet another test in patience.  Making me slow down and deal with all the discomforts that are required to travel & experience some of the most incredible and untouched places on Earth.  It’s a test in staying strong and remaining graceful amidst shear discomfort.  We passed through several rainstorms along the river.  And down come these heavy plastic curtains along all the sides of the boat – our long slow boat is now a makeshift sauna.  I can feel the sweat build-up on the backs of my legs that are pasted to the vinyl boat seat.  How [not] refreshing!  This is a test of grace for my mental strength.  DEEP BREATH.  But it wasn’t all bad – there was the occasional breeze from time to time that reminded us of how beautiful the Mekong is.   I look beyond it and admire the glorious Lao scenery.  And much to my delight I did spot one lone Elephant playing along a sandy shore.  Laos is “the land of a million elephants” and my singular elephant sighting was gratifying.

Color photo of the elephant I spotted

I’m now at cumulative 19 hours on this river journey.  My thoughts slip away from me.  I reflect on my life back at home, at what I will do when I return.  While some people count sheep I think about my happy puppy eager to take me on a long walk in our neighborhood.  I ponder some different tactics on a couple of projects at work, some new solutions come to mind and I jot them down.  And before I know it I am back in the present, living in the moment.  Though, I have to admit, this long-boat ride was also good for me to reflect on all these things.  It reminds me of how much I have to be grateful for in my life and how much I love & cherish my small family back home.  And remind us all that the experience of travel, as I define it, is not all the glitz and glory we often envision it to be.  And with that my mind goes back 10 years to my past adventures, far more challenging and uncomfortable, especially when I was “adventure travel fresh” and naive.  I remember the time when I was barely 20 years old and I decided to take a cargo boat (almost the size of a ship) for 27 hours non-stop across Lago de Nicaragua (Lake Nicaragua) to the mouth of Rio San Juan.  There were not even such things as seats on this boat – it was a true cargo ship.  Just a metal boat deck loaded with sacks of produce: melons, guavas, mangos, and breadfruit to call home for these 27 hours.  I rested my body across the bags of melons for what felt like eternity.  It rained heavily throughout the night and there was no roof on the boat deck.  I attempted to cover myself with the a thin layer of polyester from my travel hammock – and at some point I just accepted the fact that there I was and I was going to be wet.  The rain did provide a sense of relief from the oppressive daytime heat.  I can’t forget to mention that this entire time I had a bad stomach virus from drinking bad water several days prior, that progressively got worse during these 27 hours on the cargo ship.  [Most of you who have really traveled know what I mean by “stomach bug” – aka dysentery] Was there a bathroom on the boat equipped with so much as an Asian squat toilet?  Hardly!! Just a closet with a hole through the floor that went to the water.  The men on the boat just peed over the side, and I of course as a woman could not do that.  It was a trying 27 hours to say the least.  So worth it in the long run – Rio San Juan was beautiful, San Carlos, and El Castillo de la Concepcion were all incredible and mostly untouched places.  I feel so lucky having experienced these wonderous places before they get overrun with commerce and tourism.  And well, I am just so grateful that while on the Mekong River in Laos I am not sleeping in the rain on bags of melons and I don’t have a full-blown stomach bug.

Color photo of children playing on the Mekong

In this moment of new-found gratitude [and hopefully an ounce more of grace] for this long and SLOW journey I embrace the moment as I arrive at the Laos side of the border with Northern Thailand.

Color photo of the moon rising over the Mekong River near the Laos-Thai border

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Deep into the Heart of the Mekong

23 Jun

Monks walking through the streets of Luang Prabang

Low hanging clouds drape themselves over brilliant green mountains that build up from the sandy shores of the Mekong River.  Large swaths of bamboo transcend into thick tropical rainforests.  Dried bamboo thatched roof huts built on stilts dot the shore line and in the foreground small herds of water buffalo graze on the grassy hills, completing this incredible landscape.  I find myself swept away by the beauty and peace deep in the heart of the Mekong River basin in Northern Laos.

This is probably one of the most laid back places in the world.  The days go by so slow and I’ve taken a step back in time.  I started my journey here in Luang Prabang, a little river town bursting with color and flavor.  It is also a modern-day spiritual center in the Buddhist world.  Several Wats with their golden temples and intricately painted pagodas blossom out of the bright green flora.  Hundreds of monks of all ages dressed in their saffron-colored robes meander the streets and their dwellings.  Before dawn, they walk throughout the community with large containers (called Almsbowls) reciting prayers as they visit each home, most are no more than small one room shelters made of wood and bamboo.  At each stop a fellow Lao places a spoonful of sticky rice in each Monk’s almsbowl.   This is the traditional Buddhist practice of giving alms and serves as a daily reminder for how important it is to give, no matter how much or how little you have.  There is so much that we, Americans and others of more wealthy backgrounds, have to learn from the simple art of giving – and trusting – that the people of Lao have so gracefully mastered.  Giving is certainly an intrinsic value from the Buddhist roots but it is further institutionalized in daily life through the current Communist political environment.

Landscape of the Mekong river at sunrise

The spirit of Northern Laos has already given me so many gifts in this short time.  Probably the most significant is a glimpse into Lao family structures and the place of women in society.  Like in most of Asia, and the world (unfortunately), women are expected to be subservient to the men.  But in Laos it feels a bit different.  Men here, it appears at least, assume much more hands-on roles as father’s to their children, fully sharing the parenting duties alongside the mother.  Women are also very entrepreneurial – producing crafts, farming the land, weaving silk into the most beautiful scarves, and setting-up stalls in the local street markets to sell their goods.  This movement in local micro-economic development, driven by Lao women, is a more recent development that has been aided by the growth of the tourism industry.  Most of the products that are produced include fine fabrics with ornate tribal designs, cloths children’s books, silk decor galore, brightly colored quilts with intricately cross-stitched scenes of the Mekong, animals and daily Lao life, and stunning gold-leafed paintings on rice paper.  A myriad of handmade crafts perfectly suited to fulfill any tourist passing through this rich land.  The growth of tourism in Laos (similar to Cambodia) has fueled the local economy, and in the process given rise to a heightened position for women in society.  Dabbled about in the street markets are women selling their art and their young babies sleep and eat and play right on top of the silk scarves and quilts we are shopping for.

Women weaving a silk scarf in her street stall

Like women in all parts of the world, women in Lao also face the challenge of balancing the need to provide for and at the same time care for the children.  I find this inspiring and a reminder for how much more we still have to do to further advance the position of women in society.  The road to true gender equality is still a distant vision on the horizon, and as I travel and as the years pass I find myself increasingly passionate about women’s rights and gender equality.  My heart breaks when I read about the reality many young girls face in Yemen being forced to marry at 8 years old and repeatedly raped and beaten by their “husbands” – and worse yet, they aren’t allowed to get divorced.  Tears stream down my face when I learn about young girls, who haven’t even reached puberty – sold as sex slaves – beaten by their owners and forced to eat dog feces to banish any hint of self-confidence and self-worth.  It’s probably hard for many you to read those words but it is the raw truth and we can’t hide behind rose-colored glasses any longer.  And while these are examples of the “worst of it”, at the same time women who have to work to put bread on the table and care for the children day-in and day out while (for many, not all) their “husbands” spend days at the bar or gambling their money away is also gravely unjust.  And this is why in Laos, families often prefer to marry their daughters to men who have spent at least several years as monks living at the wat, for they are considered closer to God and better suited to be a respectable & hard-working spouses.  Southeast Asia has brought forward the perilous challenges we face as humanity in achieving gender equality, and quite frankly I find it my responsibility to raise awareness so that we can bridge this gap in our lifetime.  Back to Laos… I also heard that more young Lao women everyday are receiving higher education in local colleges than their male counterparts.  And that this is in large part due to the fact that they are able to begin making money producing & selling their crafts at a young age, save the earnings, and invest it in their own education – their future.  This alone gives me a reason for hope – that it is possible to achieve gender equality in our lifetime.  So I guess that in itself is a good excuse to visit Laos and buy the beautiful silk scarves woven by these determined young women.  Women do hold up half the sky.

Man fishing in the Mekong River

I also appreciate the feeling of traditional daily life in Laos.  The pace is so slow and seemingly deliberate.  Watching young kids play naked along the rocks of the Mekong, jumping like little cannon balls into the sediment-filled water.  Meanwhile men tinker from rock to rock checking their fishing nets for the next meal.  The young girls who help their mothers make crepes for sale at the little street side stalls.  And the farmers that tend to their goats, rice paddies, and sugar cane plots that dot the lush green hillsides.  These are all glimpses into daily Lao life.  it is a good life.  Though it’s not always easy, it is wholesome life.

Girls playing in the field

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Savoring Cambodia

9 Jun

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Bright pink and ruffled dragon fruits are poised gracefully in a large pile on a wooden table. Deep bowls filled with yellow turmeric, green kaffir lime leaves, and scarlet red hot chilies complete this illusionary sunset. To the left a woman sits indian style trimming meat in preparation for drying, her golden silk veil eluding to the expansion of Islam in traditionally Buddhist Cambodia. A woman walks through the tight market alley ways with a long pole stretched across her shoulder. From each end of the pole, two baskets hang down perfectly balanced. One is filled with a heaping mound of shredded green mango mixed with shredded carrots. On the other side there are a series of smaller bowls filled with fresh lime slices, dried fish pieces, ground peanuts, and a jug of fish sauce. These are makings of the Khmer version of mango salad. She carefully opens a plastic baggy and places a fistful of mango slaw inside, then she tops it with a bit of peanut, dried fish, squeeze of lime and a dash of fish sauce. She hands it over to her customer, lunch is served, and the she is paid 1,000 riles (25 cents). These are just some of Cambodia’s simple everyday culinary wonders.

Bright pink dragon fruit in the market
Fresh produce of all sorts is abound. I walk around the market with the tuk tuk driver I befriended, Pan, and we contemplate which place would best for lunch. At another stall a young man mixes turmeric, rice flour, water and egg into a thin batter for Khmer pancakes. This seems like an ideal stop. He laddels some batter onto a hot flat cooking surface, with a spoon he distributes the batter evenly and forms a large bright yellow circle. There it sizzles for several minutes before we carefully turns it over with a long flat wooden cooking tool. He then places mixture of cooked ground chicken, fresh crisp bean sprouts, spring onions, and a sprinkle of chiles into the middle of the cooking pancake. The pancake is then carefully turned over, closing in on the savoury filling and forming a bright yellow half moon. After just a few moments he slides the pancake onto an oblong plastic dish, its browned & crispy edges hang over the side of the dish. It comes out served with a small bowl of sauce – a concoction of ground peanuts fused with freshly squeezed lime juice and fish sauce – a handful of bright green lettuce leaves and slices of fresh cucumber. Mr. Pan shows me how to ea this delectable ensamble. Using your hands, you place a piece of the stuffed turmeric pancake on top of a leaf of lettuce and drizzle a spoonful of the sauce on top, allowing the sauce to run through the pancake & crevices of the lettuce. One bite and the blending of the fresh and bright ingredients is refreshing and satisfying. It’s the Cambodian version of the Turkish gozleme, the Costa Rican chorreada, or a savoury French crepe. And this is just one of a multitude of divine Khmer delights Cambodia has to offer.

I spent the afternoon afternoon taking with Pan. It gave me the opportunity to listen and learn about Khmer culture and daily life in this fine country. He is one of the older Cambodians I have seen and met, and he is just 41 years old. Cambodia has a very young population because the genocide in the 1970s left so many young children without parents or elders. Pan remembers well but he has made peace with it in his heart. He is also deeply motivated to strengthen Cambodia at all different levels. He has a vision to start an eco-tourism cooperative by getting together a diverse group of local Cambodian owned businesses (tuk tuk drivers, small hotels, family run restaurants, artists, photographers, local farms, etc.) and organizing unique cultural & nature oriented tours for foreign visitors. For now he is a very successful tuk tuk driver enjoying life with his wife and two children. Our conversation carries on into family, education, and the like. His son is 18 years old and just finished high school, the first in the family to go through school. His daughter will be turning just 3 years old in a couple of months. He later shares that he and his wife adopted their daughter, Myste which means ‘among the flowers’, from the local hospital in town. In Cambodia there are many orphaned children and its obvious that most do not have the means to provide for large families and at the same time birth control is also a commodity for the privledged. Pan and his wife told the Doctor at the hospital that they wanted to adopt a baby, the hospital did due diligence checking on their home, and bank account. Several months later Myste, at less than 4 weeks old, came into their lives. Chills came over me as he told me the story and showed me pictures of his wife & daughter, so much pride for his family. And even more beautiful is to see Cambodia’s effort to place orphaned children in average income-level local communities, where they can be loved by their communities and stay close to their roots. Ten years ago this was not as prevalent, as the tourism industry hadn’t grown enough to fuel the local economy to a scale that could foster this type of community development. This is just another way I see how deeply Cambodia is restored in peace and stability.

We continued to talk about life – and all things related to food. Like in all cultures, food is an important part of daily life here in the Kingdom of Wonder. Food is prepared and sold everywhere you look. On a little dirt road on the outskirts of town an older woman sits in the street. He has prepared a little fire, no more than 4 by 5 inches using just a couple of wooden sticks. To her right side is a small red plastic bucket. She takes a spoonful of batter and places it inside a small hand held waffle iron that rests on the hot coals. A slight sizzle sound is heard. After a minute or so she turned the piping hot iron, ensuring both sides are cooked to a perfect golden brown. Children on their way to school line-up at her street kitchen to savour a Khmer waffle.

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Lets talk about where the food here comes from. About the Land. And the people that work the land to make this bounty available. Siem Reap and its surrounding area is as flat as that turmeric pancake I had for lunch. There are also several natural and man made lakes here that provide water for irrigation, especially in the dry season. This land has been heavily famed for several thousand years. Over 1 million people survived by the ground I walk on during the Ancient Khmer Empire. Cultivating the land has always been a way of life for Cambodians yesterday and today. Like most “lost” civilizations, there is no exact proven fact as to why the ancient Khmer civilization here collapsed. Like the ancient Mayans and Incas, it is believed that the ancient Khmer civilization fell due to famine caused by desertification of the land after over a thousand years of over farming, leaving the land stripped of vital nutrients & minerals required to sustain productive soils. Much of the land was given a rest from these intensive agricultural practices for at least a few hundred years, allowing the Earth to rest and regain its strength through natural succession. Siem Reap has grown significantly in the last 35 years, and along with this is an increasing demand for greater food production. Many small villages survived by subsistence agriculture (producing only the food needed for their local community) but with the pressures of a globalized and tourism-driven Siem Reap, many have converted their land into larger mono-cultures producing a single variety of rice, cattle, crocodile, bananas, or pineapple. Ultimately provoking the same problems that led to the theorized fall of their ancestors. Worse yet is the rise of aristocrats from China and the Middle East (namely Saudi Arabia) that are buying up whole farms – and even entire villages – to produce rice & other agricultural commodities for export. Whole villages, and their people, are getting the land pulled right out from under them as it is being sold to these foreigners by the Cambodian government. These once sustainable and subsistent farmers loose all their autonomy – dignity & pride. Their land, once again being stripped of life. This is a grave injustice. And, I can’t help but ask why? After the Cambodian civil way in to 1970s, all existing records of land ownership and titles were burned. Leaving the villages and people without any evidence of their ownership of the land they survived by for hundreds of years. Without these records, the government is able to sell the land to foreigners at great profits, while destroying the livelihood for many at the same time. Cambodia is not alone in this nasty land-use transition. The same phenomenon is a growing problem in Laos and throughout much of Africa.

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Despite this sobering picture of Khmer agriculture, and its globalized demise, there are also a growing movement of small scale home grown organic agriculture. Several NGOs have sprung up that are dedicated to facilitating women’s empowerment through micro-economic development vis-a-vis home-based gardens. One of the major activities fostered by this movement is supporting women to use their existing land resources around their homes for small organic gardens. First they feed their family with the bounty they produce and whatever is left over is sold to one of a few socially & environmentally conscious restaurants in town. While this movement is one a much smaller scale than the foreign-owned mono-culture movement, it is still a powerful example for Cambodians. And with Pan’s vision and the home-based organic farming movement, Cambodia has a good chance at much brighter & peaceful future where future generations can flourish in the Kingdom of Wonder.

 

Recommendations in Siem Reap, Cambodia –

Restaurants

Hotels

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Love & Joy for Khmer

7 Jun

Royal palms reach into the heavans.  Beads of sweat drip down my face, legs, entire body.  Motos and Tuk Tuks glide past as a peddle along the recently paved roads.  The edges of the roads are painted red with patches of sun scortched earth and dust.  Many of these improvised transportation vehicles carry 10 times their weight in cargo… people; lumber; goods for sale –  you name it, it can be transported with just one little motor.  Then a buddhist monk flies by on moto with his ochre yellow garmet flowing in the wind like the sail of a boat over the sea.  Wooden hand carts are pushed down the road carrying wild mushrooms, raw snails, and bright green lotus flowers – all ready to be made into a variety of culinary delights.  Pungent flowers intoxicate my senses.  Sculptures of hindu and buddhist inspiration blend into the forest edge.  Children dressed in dark blue shorts and white shirts bound for school peddle by on bicycles three times their size.  All together we make our way down the dusty streets that wind through beautiful forested areas.  Listening to yellow marked blackbirds, croaking frogs, and a diversity of insects buzzing around – this is some of the natural music that helps to define this landscape.

Motorcycle carrying many people and cargo

Other children, less fortunate, sell bananas; water; books; silk scarves; and little woven bracelts to tourists passing through.  Their clothing tattered and for many, their hair is that rusty reddish brown color from a childhood of malnutrition.  They are persistent, determined to survive and build a better life for themselves and their families.   The markets are bustling with every type of meat, vegetable, herb and spice one can imagine – and food is being served from one staff while live river fish wiggle around on a wooden slab waiting to be sold. The aromas in the market are of some complex concotion, I can’t even identify a single ingredient – but more on the markets and cuisine later.  Lepers and disabled youth with missing legs from landmine explosions also dot this landscape.  And their voices are no longer silenced.  Women gather around a produce stall in the market and pour over photos of a new hospital center that recently opened and is dedicated to caring for the disabled.  There is hope.  And I am in the Kingdom of Cambodia.

Everything here just feels different.  I can’t quite explain the feeling.  The people. The culture.  The food. The air. The earth.  All so deeply defined by centuries of complex and compunded history.  Ancient human civilization is known to have existed in this vast & rich land since the Holocene era (6,000 BCE) and the Neolithic eras.  But it was really the civilizations during the 3rd, 4th, and 5th centuries that coaleced into what I’m experiencing as modern day Cambodia.  I can’t help but intermix modern and ancient Cambodian roots, for relation of past and present is so deeply connected here.

The Khmer Empire…. Angkor Wat, the heart of Cambodia.  The Khmer Empire began in 802 AD and today still defines in many ways the identity and essense of what it means to be Cambodian.  The Khmer language lives on.  Cuisine and cultural customs are still identified as Khmer.  Theravada Buddhism is evident in every step of daily life here.  It signifies the doctrine of analysis.  It encourages critical investigation in all things and reasoning instead of blind faith.  It came to Cambodia from Sri Lankan monks in the 13th Century – and here it lives on in daily Cambodian life.  In Theravada, it is believed that the path to enlightenment requires releasing one’s mind and being from their own ignorance to the truth.  Stepping beyond society’s desire and influence for oppulence.  Theravad and buddhism is far more than this but for the purposes on my own analysis of this “new” landscape its essense has been revealed.

Therevada Buddhist

I haven’t quite made sense of how Theravada Buddhism has survived Cambodia’s bloody history.  The Khmer regime of Jayavarman VII was known as one of the bloodiest in all of human history, which ultimately lead to the building of Angkor Wat, one of the largest & most intricate temples in the world.  And it tyranny was only matched by the Pol Pot Regime in the 1970s that characterized Cambodia’s genocide.  Nearly one third of Cambodia’s people perished at Pol Pot’s evil hands in the 1970s.   And another third of the Country fled as refugees to Thailand, Laos, China, the United States, and any other place of escape from the pervasive bloodshed.  Over 25 years later, the scars left from this modern genocide are evident from the moment you brush the dust from your eyes.  But yet there’s a special beauty revealed in the process, uncovering Cambodia’s cultural resilience is truly inspiring.

People here are friendly.  At every passing by on the bicycle a slight hello and glowing smile is exchanged.  Cambodians work hard and aim to please.  Families are very nuclear.  Their cuisine is distinct and they take great care in preparing their food, both in the fields that surround this entire area and in the outdoor kitchens of every home.  Men and women alike work hard to provide for their families.  Here most work is related to the booming tourism market.  So many unique niches make-up the tourist experience and fuel a stronger Cambodian economy at the local level on down to the individual and family levels.  Masseuses, tour guides, chefs, wait staff, artists, you name it – the jobs in tourism are abound.  And today this country enjoys one of the greatest rates of economic growth in all of Asia – 6%.  Despite this symbol of prosperity, the end of suffering is still a distant dream for many.  But hopefully, with responsible and sustainable development, the gaps between rich and poor can be bridged.  It is not easy to face the reality of daily life for many here, though I know in my heart that today is like heaven on earth compared to what it was like 25-35 years ago.  I can’t help but engage my mind and spirit on the people of all ages that work so hard for so little. Powerful feelings of love and compassion comes over me as I make eye contact and say hello.  I can almost see within, actually be within another.  And at each glance an exchange of energy occurs, its up to us to make it positive or make it negative.  I just can’t bring it upon myself to bring any negativity to this rich & complex land, it needs all the love we can bring.  Ignoring them feels like a horrible sin to me.  They are children, so many robbed of a decent childhood.  They are human.  We are all human.  And yet there is so much beauty here.  It’s just a matter of how you make sense of panorma of history, culture, and spirituality.

Cambodian artist outside Ta Prohm

Then there is the cambodian smile.  I have never before seen such beautiful smiles.  Each and every one is a ray of light and hope in this landscape of wonderous history and quest for survival.  The glow that emenates from each individual is remarkable in its own right.  And I hear giggles and laughter often accompanying the gleeful Cambodian smiles.  Where do these smiles come from?  So much joy from such a painful past.  How incredible.  Most people here have created a unique niche for themselves.  While one woman is a masseuse, another man is a Tuk Tuk driver, and another is a palm reader.  A local artist creates jewlery out of the metal from old used bullets, the remnants and reminders of a time past.  And a street shop proprietor cuts up durian fruit for sale to all who pass by.  Cambodia is in many ways a land of opportunity for this with the entrepreneur spirit and drive.  Social enterprise appears to be the single most important ingredient to restoring & building a more peaceful Cambodia.  To experiencing joy in daily life in Cambodia.

Both love and joy for Cambodia are felt throughout my soul.

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