Vietnam to Bali Part 1

I absolutely had to get out of South East Asia. After spending months traveling at a break neck speed through various countries, it was time to leave. I flew back to Saigon via Tiger Air from Pho Quot Island and spent a couple of days wandering around with different sets of people. I randomly ran into an American couple I had met way back in Thailand and we spent a day exploring Saigon, particularly the war museum. The museum itself is a different blog for a different time, but suffice it to say I was deeply moved by it. It was horrendously done, with massive propaganda against the US, but some of the photos and facts presented made me cry.

I walked into a travel agency and randomly pointed to Bali on the map. "Ok, that's where I am going now" I thought. Less than 24 hours later I was in the air on my way to Jakarta for an overnight 6 hour layover. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I was setting up my flights, but man did I pay for it. The day I left Saigon I was up at my normal time, around 7 am. I met my American friends and then took a taxi to the airport for my 8 pm flight to Jakarta. We were slightly delayed in leaving, so we didn't actually land in Jakarta until almost 1 am. My flight to Bali was at 6:20 am the next morning. In my naivety I assumed I would be able to grab a few hours of sleep in the airport, by now I am quite used to sleeping whenever and wherever I can.
No such luck.

I lined up for immigration and encountered some of the nicest people I have met at immigration posts thus far. Simply put, they love Americans. I was bombarded with facts about Obama and learned that he lived there as a school child. One of the initial immigration guys got a look at my first name on my passport and so the "Lara Tomb Raider" nickname was given to me and followed me for much of the night. It was 1:30 am before I got through immigration and grabbed my bag. Ok, now for a nice bench to park my ass on and sleep. No such luck. Every seat was taken and I ended up hanging out with a couple of Irish hippie boys and their guitars outside the building, taking requests from the local boys hanging around us. Which mainly turned out to be ColdPlay. The guys soon left to grab a flight and I wandered aimlessly, ending up close to immigration once again. A couple of the officials, with nothing else to do, pulled out a chair and had me sit with them. They drank coffee and smoked right in the middle of immigration in the middle of the airport and chatted with me about all things American and Indonesian. After a while, a deck of cards was produced and we began to play. I'm not sure how many people get to say that they played cards in the dead of the night in the Jakarta International terminal with Immigration official, but I can. That's what I love about this whole journey, I never know what will happen.

I finally boarded my flight at 6 am after being awake for nearly 24 hours. I tried to sleep on the plane with no luck. The flight was 4 hours and I was a zombie disembarking in Bali. I grabbed a cab to head to Legian and a group of guest-houses. They were all absolutely horrid, so I ended up wandering the streets for nearly 2 hours, with my 26 pound backpack strapped to me and finally found a terrific little place, of which I am still at. I had been awake nearly 40 hours before I finally crashed. Never again will I do that.

Part 2 coming soon!

Peace, love, and joy!

Lara

The Ties that Bind

She was old. Older than I care to guess. The sun had wrinkled her skin, the laugh lines were firmly etched around her mouth and she liked me.

I really can't say why an old Vietnamese woman, who has seen more heartache, joy, and love than I can ever imagine liked me so much. We weren't able to communicate through typical means, she didn't know a single word of English. And yet, we were able to communicate. I spent an evening in her restaurant barely containing my tears and she was there, with a hand upon my shoulder and a look of pure compassion. It was human kindness at its best. When it was time to leave and journey to another place, she hugged me fiercely, tears in her eyes, planting a kiss on my cheek. She somehow knew I was all alone on a remote island in Vietnam and with an instinct bred into women across the world, to nurture and care, she acted.

I have always scoffed at the notion that women are bound universally by the ability to nurture and show compassion. I was raised with a barely there mother figure and have always been able to relate to men better then women. I tended to have my guard up with women coming into my life, more so than men. But, I have gradually come to realize that there is a bond transcending race, age, and location that links all women on this earth. There was the old woman in Portugal that took the time to guide me and gave me a gift, no words were spoke, it was impossible to communicate, but for the knowledge she had that I needed her right at that moment. There was the young woman in Thailand, baby in hand, struggling with packages, that handed me her child so she could manage a crowded walk way. She knew no harm would come, she knew through a single look that I would help her. There was a tiny Indian woman on a flight, sitting across the aisle from me. We experienced turbulence and she grabbed my hand, as much for her comfort as for my own.

I wish I could go back to my former life and see with open eyes the amount of kindness brought upon me by women strangers in the US. Perhaps it is easier to recognize it when I am out here, away from all the women I know and love. Perhaps, with single glance or gesture from me, it will continue. My heart bursts with the knowledge that we women, go through the same heartache, passion, and trials all over the world and we are bound together. I will continue on, eyes opened further and continue to bond with women all over the world through a look, a smile, and love.



Peace, love, and joy!

Lara

Tales of Transport

I am currently on an island off the coast of Vietnam and couldn't be more content. I left Muine beach 4 days ago, intent on spending some time in the Mekong Delta, really experiencing the life on the river so many people here depend upon. Unfortunately, my plans didn't work out quite like I thought they would.

I left Muine for Saigon on an early morning bus. Arriving at around 1:30 pm, I immediately went to a travel agency to book a bus ticket to one of the many villages along the Mekong. I randomly picked out a town on the map and told the lady I wanted to go there. I should have realized something was amiss when she gave me a strange look, booked it, and then gave me the phone number for her cousin that lived there in case I needed anything. After jumping in a mini-van, I was whisked away to a makeshift bus station in Saigon and put on another mini-van. The vans are supposed to sit 12 people, but somehow we managed to fit 15 people in it. I was stuck in the very back with my legs shoved against my chest and after popping some Dramamine, settled in for the ride. It only took me a second to realize that I was the only Westerner in the van. The driver didn't speak any English, in fact, only one person spoke a few words. I didn't know if I was on the right bus, I didn't know where I would end up, and I was stared out for hours. Surprisingly enough, this didn't bother me one bit. One lady kept staring at my skin and then my hair back and forth for hours. Finally I figured out that it was because my skin is the same color as theirs, but my hair is curly and blond from the sun. I also had a good 6 inches on everyone aboard. I pointed to my skin and then her skin and said "Same, Same." She nodded and laughed, apparently understanding a little.

After several hours, we stopped at a makeshift outdoor cafeteria where all the mini-vans and buses stop for food. There were literally hundreds of people there and I was again, the only white person. I posed for numerous pictures and bought enough treats for the entire group in our van and then we got on our way. With the sounds of Passion Pit playing on my Zune, we finally stopped in what I assume to be the town I had pointed out on the map. It was a dirt lot in the middle of a dirty city, motorbikes streaming by and again, not a single white person to be found. The driver threw my bag out and took off before I had a chance to ask him where I was (not that he would have understood). I strapped my life on my back, and stood there, not knowing where I was or where I should go. I was then approached by a friendly guy with a motorbike that, in barely understandable English, said he could take me to the center of town. I walked through poring rain to a hotel and booked a room for the night and then went in search of food. I was the only white person in town I assume, as people stopped and stared everywhere I went and little children said "Hello!" and pointed at me laughing. Again, I didn't mind it one bit. It was actually quite cute. I didn't actually find any food that night, the only thing available was sidewalk vendor food and of course, all writen in Vietnamese. My hotel room had a bag of chips in the room, so I ate those along with an iced tea.

The next morning, I woke up bright and early and checked out of my hotel room. The same guy that had taken me to the hotel was waiting outside for me and I had him take me to camera store so I could buy my 3rd camera of this voyage. After that, he dropped me back at the same dirt lot so I could get on yet another bus that would take me to the coast and further out, to the island I am on right now. Wash, rinse, repeat the exact same sequence of events as the day before. My destination was Rach Gia, Vietnam a port city with regular ferries to the island. Again, no one spoke English and I'm pretty sure I got massively ripped off with my "ticket" for the mini-van, which didn't actually include a ticket, just me handing some guy over a hundred thousand Dong and hoping that I wouldn't be dropped in the middle of nowhere.

I finally made it to Rach Gia, and checking into yet another hotel. However, this one was extra special because it actually had a bathtub in my room instead of the usual shower over the toilet I have been using for months. I bought my ticket for the ferry the next morning and soaked for hours, feeling like a princess. The next morning, I walked to the ferry and saw the first white people I had seen in days. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. To have a real conversation with someone had become a luxury it would seem. I quickly made friends with a couple of Londoners and settled in for what I hoped would be a smooth ferry ride. Luckily I took some more Dramamine because the ride was anything but smooth. We were rolling back and forth with the sea for hours and the trip took an hour longer than usual because of the rough seas. I get motion sickness quite easily, but luckily I have plenty of drugs to counteract it.

We finally arrived at Pho Quo island and I checked into an unbelievable villa right on the ocean. The waves crash right outside my door and there are several beach front bars to eat at. All that for the price of 200,000 dong or $10.27 a night. I plan to spend at least a week here, maybe longer and really explore. I would like to go to the local school to do some English tutoring, so I'm going to try and arrange that later today.

The coast of Cambodia can be seen from the island and I will be going there next. In the meantime, I am going to live it up Vietnamese island style perfectly content in a little slice of heaven.




Peace, love, and joy!

Lara

Leaving Thailand, Falling into Laos, Escaping to Vietnam

I need to begin this blog clear back in Thailand a couple of weeks ago, so prepare yourself, I have a lot of ground to cover. I ended up in the far north, near Myanmar and met up with Nick and Svetta, 2 Americans I had met in Chiang Mia. As a group we decided to spend one day in Myanmar and then take a 2 day slow boat to Laos. Myanmar ended up being a giant waste of time, but my passport stamp looks interesting at least. I think the only thing of note about Myanmar that I saw were the US DOJ posters everywhere offering awards for terrorist. Pretty interesting to see the long arm of the US law reach all the way over to SE Asia. The next day, Nick, Svetta, Andy and Sandra (two crazy Scotts) and Francine (a 67 year old American traveling without her husband) and I set off for Laos. After getting throughly ripped off by the tour operator at the border, we walked through pounding rain to the dock and boarded a slow boat that would take us 5 hours up the Mekong River to a tiny village where we would stay the night and then finish the trip the next day after another 9 hours on board. The boat was fairly comfortable and we settled in cushy seats in the front and listened to Andy the Scottsman yell "Beer Lao, Beer Lao!" every 20 minutes. It was a really fun, relaxing day.

The next day, we woke bright and early and decided to get on board the boat early to get good seats. Unfortunately, they had pulled a bait and switch on us and the boat we got in was half the size of the one from the day before. Even worse, the seats were either hard backed wooden benches or tiny folding wooden chairs. Not the most comfortable way to spend 9 hours. Fortunately, I picked a seat almost opposite to a really hot guy, at the very least knowing that looking at him would give me something to pass the hours with. We actually ended up talking a bit and I was intrigued by him. I already knew that I had never met anyone quite like him. I even whispered to Francine "Holy shit, he teaches philosophy and is in a band and he's hot!". Frannie gave me the thumbs up signal, the one that women all over the world can recognize and that was all I needed. Alex and I talked and looked and looked away and talked some more all the way to Luang Prabang, Laos. I was excited to put it mildly. We got off the boat and waited for our bags to be unloaded and he simply disappeared on me. "Oh well", I thought, "Maybe Ill see him here in town somewhere." Frannie and I decided to room together that night and went to dinner with the whole group including the Scots, and Kevin, another American we seemed to have picked up along the way. It was a super chill evening, only punctuated by Frannie and I fervently looking for Alex in every restaurant we walked by.

The next day, Frannie and woke up and hooked up with Nick and Svetta for some breakfast and conversation. We were walking back to our guest house when Frannie grabbed my arm and said, "There he is!" I ran across the street yelling Alexs' name and found out he was leaving right at that moment to go to another town with his friends. Dejectedly I got his email address, sure I would never see him again. Later that afternoon, Frannie and I decided to book a kayaking trip to some caves on the Mekong River, I was really craving some exercise and outdoor time and couldn't wait to get on the river. We booked our trip, walked down the street, and imagine my surprise when I saw Alex sitting down to eat at a restaurant. Of course, I invited him to come kayaking with us and he agreed, booked it and invited me to eat some lunch with him. 3 hours later we finally moved from the table and walked to a book store, got caught in monsoon rain showers, watched a movie, and got caught in a full on pitch black power outage while walking to dinner. I loved every second or every minute spent with him. I later found out that he decided to stay in Luang Prabang because I was there.

The next day, Frannie, Alex and I went kayaking. Alex was my partner and I have to admit, not the most experienced I have seen. We almost got swept downstream to the sounds of Frannie and the guides laughing at us from shore. We actually had to cross the Mekong River at 2 points and it was so very hard. The river is huge, fast moving, and down right daunting at certain places. We both breathed a sigh of relief when we did the second crossing safely. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to enjoy it as I inadvertently stepped up to my knees in mud and then fell forward like a broke down toy. Of course, Alex and the natives found it hilarious.

The next several days were punctuated by nothing exciting except spending every moment with Alex and that was all the excitement I needed. Frannie left after 3 days with promises to put me up on her house boat in Puerto Rico if I ever make it down there. Slowly, everyone left from our group, except Alex, the Scotts, Kevin, and me. Then suddenly it seems, the day came when it was time for all of us to leave. The Scotts had to catch a flight to Vietnam, Alex had to catch a flight back to London, Kevin had to leave for southern Laos, and me? I randomly decided to go to Vang Vieng, the party capital of Laos. Somewhere in the days preceding that, Alex and I decided to give a real relationship a shot. We both really want this to work. I am a really outgoing person, but I don't really open up to people. I have a massive wall around certain things and I have been adding bricks to that wall through the years. Alex was able to chisel away at it with just his smile. This is such a strange feeling because I haven't been in a committed relationship for years and certainly wasn't expecting to find someone I actually want one with in Laos of all places. Luang Prabang was the perfect setting for it all. The town is my own personal Shangri La. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site, so protected from development. The French originally settled there and because of that the architecture is gorgeous. The Laos people we met have to be my favorite. They are some of the nicest, most modest and unassuming people I have ever met.

The next few days were so incredibly hard for me. I found myself wandering the streets of Vang Vieng in a daze. I didn't speak to a single person for 2 days. I don't think I have ever been that lonely in my life. I wasn't just missing Alex, I was missing everyone I had spent the past 2 weeks with. We all really fit well together and I can't imagine finding that again on this journey of mine. I ended up getting on a bus for Vientiane, Laos and met up with Kevin there. He listened to me cry and was a friendly face when I really needed one. I spent 2 days there and randomly bought a plane ticket for Ho Chi Min City, (Saigon) Vietnam. I landed there yesterday and promptly bought a bus ticket taking me to a beach town. It's gorgeous here, the people are relaxed and incredibly friendly, and I actually was able to pick a good guest house for once.

I am still lonely. I still haven't really talked to very many people. I didn't know what I was missing until I had it with Alex and now I don't know how I can be where he isn't. I have been traveling for months, lonely for a few minutes out of a few days, but otherwise perfectly content. Now I feel so very alone and it really sucks to be in this incredibly beautiful country and not be able to share it with anyone I care about.

Tomorrow I am going to give wind surfing a try and possibly do some paddle boarding. The waves are dead, so unfortunately there is no surfing on my horizon. I don't know where I am going from here, but I do know that each day will get a little easier and eventually I will be back to my usual happy, excited to be out here self.



Peace, love, and joy

Lara