Click here for my new blog, Raising Isela... Green.

Travel Blog Goodbye

Just in case you didn't suspect it already, and despite promises to the contrary in my last post from...how long ago was that?...I am heretofore retiring this blog. However, much to your relief (or consternation) I will soon have a new one up and running and ready to contain all of my musings about motherhood, family life, and yes, even travel, albeit of a different sort. Making this blog obsolete, I will admit that I do have a compass now and although I continually pester my husband to consent to a move overseas, I know deep within that I'm slowly but surely (and semi-readily even) putting down some roots. We're even strongly considering buying our friend's 10-acre property north of Longmont. Organic/biodynamic gardening, here I come. For your reading pleasure, I'll blog about that too. To be continued on another page...

Long Overdue Update

I still haven't posted photos from Ireland and Scotland from the trip I took almost a year ago and here I am such a short time later living a very different life than I was as an aspiring perma-transient. I certainly wasn't looking but to my great fortune somehow managed to reconnect with Tom, who tutored me in math way back in high school. We began writing while I was in Asia and, after I returned dated, and shortly were married and expecting our first baby. I had decided that roots were for trees and those unfortunates who were too afraid to step out and broaden their perspective and have found that I was oh so wrong. As fulfilling as my travels were - just as they will be with my new family in the future - my life now is infinitely more so. I plan to update my blog with a few photos of Ireland and Scotland and many that are more recent...of my family and myself (very pregnant though I am) and inspirations I find here at home. There are so many I seem to have missed before! Stay tuned.

Humanitarian Aid First, Political Opportunity Second

Eric Szmanda and Jorja Fox from "CSI"
Reveal Regime's Modern-Day Slavery to the World

Today is the 7th day in a row we have released a video on our website and at www.burmaitcantwait.org explaining to the world the Burmese military regime's horrific treatment of their own people. Today's piece focuses on the regime's use of forced labor.

Starring in today's piece are Eric Szmanda and Jorja Fox from the television show "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation".

Burma's military regime has forced hundreds of thousands of its own people into forced labor, a modern-day version of slave labor.

The Burmese people are forced to work for days on end or carry supplies for Burma's military regime. Many woman forced to work as laborers are raped, and others are killed by the regime.

Worse yet, innocent villagers are forced to serve as human "mine-sweepers", walking in front of regime troops at gunpoint, so if they step on a landmine, they will be maimed.

Courageous young Burmese people such as Su Su Nway, who attempt to stop the military regime from using forced labor, are locked up in prison.

Please send this video to as many of your friends and family as possible. The Burmese military regime tries to hide this practice from the world, refusing to allow international aid workers into the regions where much of the forced labor is happening.

We are building a campaign of 1 million people to promote human rights in Burma. Please join us, spread the word encouraging your friends and family to join today.

Sincerely,

Aung Din, Jeremy Woodrum, Jennifer Quigley, and Thelma Young

Ps. About one hour ago you should have received an email from us asking to to email the United Nations to demand that international aid be let into Burma to help the victims of the Burma cyclone. At present, the regime is blocking most of the aid. Click here to send a message now.

Latest from U.S. Campaign for Burma

Tell the UN Secretary General Now:
United Nations Must Order Aid Be Allowed Inside Burma

We are writing to ask you to send a message to the UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon today urging him to take action to ensure that international aid reaches the people of Burma. So far, the Burmese military regime has only let in a trickle of international humanitarian aid. We understand that 35 disaster teams from 18 countries have applied to help, and most are not being let in. Even the United Nations assessment team has not been given visas, 5 days after the cyclone struck.

France's foreign minister Bernard Kouchner (a founder of Doctors Without Borders) proposed a solution to this problem. He urged the UN Security Council -- the only body at the UN that can pass binding resolutions, to take action that would allow the international community to send aid to Burma whether the Burmese regime likes it or not.

Will you add your voice to his call by sending an email now to the United Nations Secretary General?

We are encouraging the United States to put its full weight behind France's call, and we believe they will do so. The United States has already offered to send Navy ships to offload supplies as well as money and other support to help (as it did during the Asian Tsunami) but still no response from the military regime as of this writing.

Lastly, we want to thank you for your generous donations. This morning, we transferred $30,000 to groups operating on the ground inside Burma. With the Burmese military regime holding up international aid, your ongoing donations are appreciated.

More to come... see articles below.

Aung Din, Jeremy Woodrum, Jennifer Quigley, and Thelma Young

French Official Urges UN to Force Aid on Myanmar

Burma holding back AID operation

Junta stalls as Burma suffers

US: Still no word on access to Myanmar

Latest Email from U.S. Campaign for Burma

Cyclone Update and Why Burma Needs a Million Supporters

Dear friends,

Many, many thanks to the hundreds of supporters that have donated money to help victims of the cyclone in Burma.

Sadly, news reports are indicating that the military regime is hampering relief efforts. The headline of USA Today reads "Cyclone Aid Hurt by Junta in Burma." It appears the regime is delaying travel visas for aid workers and letting aid supplies sit unused at airports. Considering this is the same military regime that continues to carry out a scorched-earth war on civilians in eastern Burma that has destroyed 3,200 ethnic minority villages -- and refuses real access to aid agencies that could help -- we are not suprised. It now appears that the death tolls have reached over 22,000 -- and perhaps up to 63,000.

We have spoken with some people inside Burma and they are very angry at the military regime. Everyday Burmese are furious that the military regime turned out tens of thousands of troops to attack peaceful Buddhist monks and demonstrators in September-October 2007, but failed to adequately warn its own people of the oncoming cyclone -- a real humanitarian disaster.

The regime's lack of response to the cyclone begs the question: how has the military regime gotten away with destroying Burma for so long? If you look at our website or at www.burmaitcantwait.org, you will see that we, the Human Rights Action Center, and Fanista.com have organized a 30-day video campaign to educate Americans and others around the world about the military regime in Burma. The goal of this campaign is to mobilize 1 million people to sign up to take action, so that the regime can no longer crush the Burmese people behind closed doors. Just as the world came together to help free Nelson Mandela and South Africa in the 1980s, we are now organizing an effort to help Burma's imprisoned Nobel Peace Prize recipient Aung San Suu Kyi and the people of Burma.

Today, you will see a video by comedian and actor Eddie Izzard, directed by Oscar-winning actress Anjelica Huston. The powerful, moving video explains that the young people in Burma have led the effort to end military rule in Burma. Yesterday, we posted a video by Julie Benz, which explained the military regime's attacks on civilians in eastern Burma. You can also see four previous videos at www.burmaitcantwait.org There will be one every day for 30 days, and today is the 6th day.

We urge you to share these videos with as many people as possible, to help people understand how and why this started in the first place. Then, urge them to sign up for the campaign of one million. Burma needs you.

Please Donate!

I still haven't heard from any of my friends in Myanmar. Thankfully, most of them live further north in the country and, unless they were visiting Yangon, should be ok. Tonight, I'm going to try to call the school in Mandalay where Ashley works. If anyone knows anything about Horizon, please let me know.

I hope that Min Min wasn't in Yangon due to his mother's hospitalization. I'm slowly photographing and attaching his paintings below. Write me at jeneliz74@gmail.com if you have any questions or are interested in purchasing any of his lovely works of art. Most are Ayeyarwady river sand and acrylic and a few are just acrylic. All are on fabric and none are smaller than about 19"x 28".

I've donated and been encouraging others to donate to The U.S. Campaign for Burma. I trust the organization and have confirmed that, if you check the box at the bottom of the donation form, 100% will go toward disaster relief.

Another option to stay informed and also to donate is through WORLD VISION. I'm not sure what percentage of your gift will go directly to disaster victims but a gift to either organization is tax deductible.

This morning I heard that the death toll is now up to 22,000 and that, after all are accounted for, this could be an even worse disaster than the 2004 tsunami. At least 30,000 people are still missing. The rice farming areas around the Ayeyarwady Delta were completely decimated and, since most of the population subsists through rural farming, this is why the death count is so high. Please help! It certainly can't hurt your karma. Even $5 makes a difference. Make the effort and if uninspired, just look at the photos below or on my Flickr site and unsuccessfully attempt to avoid wanting to help these beautiful people.

Min Min's Paintings - All are for Sale

Myanmar Cyclone

I'm heart broken for the beautiful and kind but dreadfully poor and oppressed people of Yangon and the surrounding areas who have been devastated by cyclone Nargis. The death count is now estimated at 10,000 and, in response, the military junta has done little but make a delayed request for international aid. Not only were they negligent in giving warnings, as I understand it, the military personnel who were such a visible presence when I was in Yangon and are so quick to strike out against the citizenry have been nowhere to be found when it comes to rescue and clean up efforts.

I only hope that the money and other aid that is pouring into the country from Thailand, the U.N., the U.S. and elsewhere makes its way into the hands of those who so clearly require it and doesn't find a resting place in the sweaty hands of corrupt government officials.

I ache to be in Yangon contributing to aid efforts weep as I write this for the kind people who made such an indelible impression on me. I turned down a job offer in Yangon to come back to the states due to worries about my Mother's health. My family is grateful I'm not in there but all I can feel is remiss and helpless. Since I am unable to travel there at this time, I have donated to THE U.S. CAMPAIGN FOR BURMA. I trust this organization and believe they will ensure that all aid makes it to the intended recipients. Since I also haven't been able to get in touch with any of my friends in the country, I'll have to be content with this for now.

Despite pressing grad school deadlines that fade into ultimate insignificance, I am devoting the remainder of the day to keeping my promises regarding posting Myanmar writings and and photos. As inadequate as I've said I feel my writings to be at expressing the impression that was left on me, I believe it's important to share the experience and raise awareness in some small way. Please read the posts that I will attach below this one later in the day and do what you can to help. The time is now.

Finally, as much as I am in clear favor of a new administration in our own country, I certainly appreciate the First Lady's past and present efforts in Burma. I only hope this tragedy brings enough attention to Myanmar that lasting political and social change becomes the final, positive outcome.

The Best of Five Months

Naturally, I’d read that I shouldn’t discuss politics with the locals because, although they are frequently willing, they can be persecuted for doing so after foreigners happily depart and head back to the comfort of our cushy western lifestyles. I determined to continue to cultivate the art of keeping my mouth shut, something I’ve been attempting to teach myself for most of my life. It wasn’t difficult to conceive of success with other’s safety at stake but, minutes after the start of what would be two and a half days on Min Min’s motorbike, he began to speak about the evils of the government and the difficulties of life in Myanmar under the military regime. He spoke of his love of the Lady, Aung San Suu Kii, at one point showing me a picture (in two pieces) of his mother with her. I found out that his father had once been a leader of the opposition, that Aung San Suu Kii had once stayed in his family’s home, and that his father had spent eight years in prison as a reward for efforts on behalf of his people. While in prison they had broken all of his father’s ribs and sternum with blows to the chest and he’s in constant pain to this day, mere breathing being difficult. Having watched my sister suffer with costochondritis for years, I have a more acute awareness of what this must be like for him. I know she’ll cringe when I tell her this story.

During his eight years in prison, Min Min’s father was not once allowed to see his wife or children. Min Min tearfully expressed his pride in his mother for working so hard to support them while maintaining her values. She struggled to feed her three children, refusing to resort to prostitution which is an all too common financial solution for Burmese women. In fact, HIV is rampant in the country because so many have gone to China to engage in prostitution and subsequently returned to infect others. As in other parts of Southeast Asia, fidelity is generally not expected, nor common and married men engage in behavior which causes them to contract the disease and return home to give it to their wives. Children are of course born with HIV and the tragedy continues to play out. Unicef statistics can be found here. Compounding the problem, misconceptions about transmission are rampant.

Min Min told me that the people believe that you can get HIV from kissing, but not from sex and so they don’t kiss. He tries to educate the people in his village but they rarely listen to him. With the proceeds from his paintings, he is relatively affluent. Trappings of this are apparent in the leather jacket he wears constantly, despite the boiling heat, his government cell phone purchased for an outrageous price and tapped by the government, and in the satellite TV he’s been able to procure. He invites his friends to watch pornography at his house in order to show that it’s appropriate to kiss but to wear condoms when engaging in sex. They laugh and shrug it off, saying that what they’re watching isn’t real, can’t be real. In addition to repressing education, the government naturally doesn’t provide any sex education, access to free or even affordable condoms, or even simple health care services. Folk medicine is common as a result.

Min Min lost his brother when he became ill and died due to lack of medical attention. From his description of his brother’s illness I couldn’t guess what he might have had. Min Min said he died from taking too many showers. His mother now suffers from partial paralysis and an inability to speak due to a stroke. I say it was a stroke because I have a basic understanding that has been denied most of the people in Myanmar. Min Min said his mother’s illness was also caused by taking too many showers. When I met his mother she burst into tears instantly and he said she did so because she wanted to communicate and couldn’t. Min Min told me most of his story as we were sitting on the highest ledge of one of the isolated stupas waiting to watch the sunset across the Iyerwady, and he was tearful while talking about his love of his family and fellow Burmese and distress about the oppression that exists in his country and the poverty and seeming helplessness of his people.

I listened and was touched by his sincerity but it didn’t completely sink in until our drive to Mt. Popa, which is about an hour and a half away from Bagan. He negotiated a price for me with his friend and so the three of us set out in a circa 1980’s taxi. I’d watched him buy, share, and continually chew betel the entire time I was with him (proudly sporting the coveted black teeth he’s worked 10 years to acquire) but I’d never really seen him eat or drink anything. Even when I bought strawberries at the base of Mt. Popa he said he’d rather give most of them away than eat them and that’s his usual policy. So, we gave strawberries to the women with bare feet and heavy loads who were walking down the street miles from any village, and to the village children by the road, and even to a father and son carrying water back to their meger bamboo hut. Everyone was grateful. We gave money to his friend’s mother who works on Mt. Popa. His friend, a woman, has been in jail for demonstrating for some time and her mother cried when she gave Min Min an update. He gave money away more than once and was often tearful telling me about the situation of the people we met. His goodness and sincerity - even though he has very little himself - was stunning.

He now follows in his father’s footsteps and has already spent a month in jail for doing so. He said that he was only released because he didn’t change his story during day after day of aggressive questioning. Several of his friends who did are still in jail months later. He talked about how much he loves his culture but that his country “is broken” and he wants to go to the US after his parents pass on and to work toward the end of the military regime from the outside. He refuses to marry because he is convinced that he will end up in prison or killed for the efforts he will continue to lend to the opposition. After having watched his mother struggle in his father’s absence, he is decidedly against inflicting that sort of life on someone else. Because of the deeply good intentions and devotion of this 23-year-old who only had an 8^th grade education and is destitute by western standards, this was the first time that I’d considered sponsoring someone to come to the US. I connected with and had the purest of love for this man under very particular circumstances that I can’t believe were accidental. I’ll never harbor exactly the same world view as a result of my time with Min Min and his friends.

Speaking of education, Min Min was always determined to become as educated as possible and completed school subsequently studying painting for four years under a renowned artist. His small studio/show room hosts two of his own students and stands next to his family’s restaurant which is run by his sister and her daughter. His mother and father live there, his mother spending her days on an elevated wooden platform shielded by blankets behind the restaurant. They fed me some of the best food I’ve ever had while I was there and wouldn’t take more than 1 kyat for a meal.

I’ve asked him to write his family’s story but since I’ve been home have learned that his mother is experiencing further health problems and that Min Min has sold his motor bike to pay her bills. He mentioned the possibility of having to sell the family’s small plot of land because it’s low season in terms of tourism and the sale of his paintings – their main means of support – has almost come to a halt. I have forty or so of his paintings here with me in the U.S. that I would like to sell for him. I’m posting photos of them on this site and will attempt to sell some to Asian shops here in Colorado. I’d planned to take the money back to him but may be able to wire it through the U.S. Consulate in order to get it to him more quickly. When money has been mailed to him in the past the envelopes have arrived opened and empty thanks to the military junta. If you’re interested in purchasing a painting or two, please write me at jeneliz74@gmail.com.

All said, I hope my pictures express my experience in Myanmar much better than these exceedingly feeble words do. I definitely believe they make it unnecessary for me to write anything about my time at Inlay Lake or about the remainder of my time in Myanmar after I left Bagan. I’ll upload them all – the excellent and the fair – to Flickr and hope you feel a fraction of what I do when I look at them. I’m counting the days until next spring when I plan to go back to Burma and fantasize that I will be visiting a democratic nation at that time.

Meeting Min Min

I met Min Min on a trishaw. He wasn’t driving the trishaw that was transporting me but arrived just in time to help his friend who was. I never learned the name of the trishaw driver, who looked about 14, but surmised that he was new to the job and had bitten off more than he could chew when he agreed to take me from the boat landing in Nyaung U, through Old Bagan, and all the way to my hotel in New Bagan – a largely uphill journey of quite a few kilometers. It was already pitch black and he held a torch in one hand as he slowly pumped the pedals, sweat pouring from his face and soaking his shirt. Although he took frequent breaks, I could tell that he was struggling to keep his legs moving. I had agreed with is father, who followed on a bicycle, to pay him 3000 kyat (about 3USD) for his service and felt incredibly guilty as the realization of the distance and terrain came over me. I resolved to pay him more even though my cash was running low and replenishment by way of any means supposedly impossible. This was the beginning of a trend for me while in Myanmar.

More than anywhere else I wanted to give here…and I did give. I gave to the point where I ended up needing to be rescued more than once: twice by Andreas, my angel from Sweden, who kept turning up just when I needed him, once by the Consular in Yangon who gave me $200 out of her own pocket to be repaid when I’m back in Myanmar, and certainly more than once by Min Min who agreed to defer payment for the six of his paintings that I’m purchasing. He also paid his friend for the two I bought from him, to be reimbursed when I return. Then again, Myanmar and its spiritual emissary rescued me in multiple ways vastly more significant than financial, but I digress.

Just when I decided that I wasn’t going to make it to New Bagan any other way than by my own momentum, a motor bike pulled up alongside the trishaw and the driver put his foot on the back of the cart in order to push us up the next couple of hills. Between pushes, he came up alongside my side of the cart to find out exactly where I wanted to go and informing me that it would be at least another hour to reach New Bagan by trishaw.

After some deliberation between father, son and friend, the motor bike driver’s parcels, which I later learned were rolls of his paintings on fabric, were exchanged for me and my two backpacks. He offered to take me the rest of the way to the hotel for free, his friend delivering his paintings to Old Bagan, and so I paid the exhausted trishaw driver and we were off with my big pack balanced between his legs. I soon learned that his name was Min Min. He spoke good English and told me that he wanted to help his friend who was working so hard because he and his family were very poor. He wanted to know why I was staying in New Bagan which he said was very far from everything and significantly more expensive. He delivered me to the Kaday Aung Hotel (which I’d stupidly booked from Yangon) and after some conversation, offered to take me to see some of the stupas the following day.

That night, the manager of the hotel also offered to arrange transport for me the following day and I told him that Min Min was going to take me around on his motorbike. He seemed a bit upset and said that all of us could get in trouble with the government if I did so, that the motorbike would likely be impounded by the police, and that the government would speak with Min Min and also with him as the manager of the hotel. I told him I’d already made the arrangements and that my driver would be arriving at 8am but that I certainly didn’t want to cause anyone trouble. I asked if he would speak with Min Min and he refused, which I thought was odd. After talking with Min Min about it on my own the following morning, I discovered that the hotel in which I was staying was a government owned establishment, despite all of my ideations and efforts concerning the avoidance of just such a scenario.

He said that the manager was not only a government employee but also naturally wanted to make commission for arranging my transport. He said that the man was a sell-out, accepting government money and working against his fellow country men. Then again, when I saw how difficult survival can be in Myanmar, I personally couldn’t the man harshly. My basic needs have always been relatively effortlessly provided or acquired and so I’ll leave that judgment to people like Min Min and his family. From then on, Min Min picked me up and dropped me off outside of the gates of the hotel. I pressed him to reassure me that he wouldn’t get in trouble for spending time with me and he repeatedly said, “No problem.”

Brief Mandalay Journal

Written Friday, March 7

Due primarily to US-imposed sanctions, there are no credit card companies in Myanmar and it’s impossible to get money except at one Yangon hotel that charges 7%. Even 7% sounds pretty good when you’re down to your last $75. I’m nowhere near Yangon at the moment as I’m on a previously booked boat trip down the Ayeyarwady River from Mandalay to Bagan.

Rewinding… the day I arrived I met a guide who transported me all over the city: the American Embassy to have a POA notarized (real life creeping in), the Indian Embassy where I left my passport for a visa stamp, Horizon school where I’ve applied for a teaching job… After visiting the Indian Embassy I realized that I’d need to be back in Yangon on the 14^th to pick up my visa as it’s the last weekday I’ll be in Myanmar (I fly to Bhutan on the 17^th). Thus not wanting to spend the beginning few days and the ending few days of my visit in Yangon, I decided I should head to Mandalay immediately and do a whirlwind tour of a few spots – Mandalay, Bagan, Inley Lake – before spending my last weekend in Yangon. So, with the guide’s help and insistence that we absolutely wouldn't be supporting any government agency or establishment, I purchased a flight from Yangon to Mandalay for that afternoon, three nights hotel in Mandalay, a boat trip from Mandalay to Bagan with another three nights in the latter, a flight from Bagan to Inlay Lake with three night’s near the lake, and a flight back to Yangon from the airport near Inlay Lake.

At the end of an action packed day that began in Bangkok and ended in Mandalay, I met the sweetest Trishaw (a bike with two attached seats, back to back) driver who was came to be my constant companion as he transported me to see the sights over the next two days. He’s the one in the photo beneath the sign that reads, “Tatmadaw and the people, cooperate and crush all those harming the union.” That photo says so much.

Surprisingly, I met relatively more fluent English speakers in Yangon and Mandalay than I have in Bangkok. The people seem to be educated (though I know their education is government approved and never free of charge), frequently active readers and, proactive thinkers in contrast to the general Thai and Laos persona (didn’t I write that there’s no interest to speak of in library services in Luang Prabang, for example?). Also, everything that’s been written about their friendliness, kindness, and generosity is true times one hundred. They are by far the most engaging people I’ve met in Asia.

We visited several attractions over two days which you’ll see in my photographs. Throughout my time in Mandalay what struck me was the spirit of the people and I hope it comes through in my pictures because it's certainly a difficult thing to put into words. Mandalay itself is a flat, dusty town which I found charming but nothing with much of a draw other than the open hearted people who live there.

The first night I had wanted to see the famous Mandalay Marionette Theater but had my typical heat stroke from being out in the sun all day. Unfortunately, I couldn’t lick the headache and so stayed at the hotel that night. In retrospect I was upset with myself for not toughing it out. The second night I had to choose between the marionette show and the even more famous Moustache Brothers show and chose the latter. I had chapattis on the street and then we drove the 15 or so blocks to the home where the brothers do their post-prison show. Although it's been toned down quite a bit by necessity it was still wonderful, the spirit of these long time activists sneaking through their measured words. A show that was once entirely political comedy is now traditional dance mixed with colorful innuendo. The fact that the three brothers are still performing after two of them spent so many years in prison is a testament of devotion to cause of all right-minded Burmese.

And the Lessons Keep Coming

Written Friday, March 7

I left the Celta compound the day the course ended and took the sleeper bus back to Bangkok. Ood – the songthaew driver who brought me from Chiang Mai to the school the day before classes began and who, having found the school, began taking the free English courses the very next day – delivered Ashley and me to the bus station where we had a difficult time saying goodbye to him. We’d been so devoted to his progress throughout the course, worrying about the fact that he was always struggling at the back of the beginner class and discussing ways to help him without regressing the entire class. We had enjoyed his gentle company with each trip to Tesco and heard about how he lives alone at 53, his wife having left him with their three children. He said he was “bad” when he was younger but we certainly couldn’t detect any trace of darkness during our time with him.

In one month, we’d watched him go from knowing only a handful of English words to discussing history with us over his very first Italian dinner as we enjoyed the last couple of hours before our bus departed. Earlier that last day he’d taken me into town and I’d sat in the front of the songthaew with him as he delivered me to Starbucks (where I bought him his usual mocha), to have visa photos taken, and after some time lost in Chiang Mai, to the Indian Embassy for a futile attempt at getting a visa that day. He asked for one of my passport photos and gave me a small photo of himself. Earlier in the month I’d given him a copy of the movie Stardust and on the way back to Nugent he presented me with a Buddhist amulet telling me in his own brand of broken English that it was to be my white glass flower, “for protection,” just like in the movie. This gesture would have touched anyone on its own but the struggles of the month being as they were and my affection for Ood influencing the moment, I began to cry. This greatly distressed him. Ashley and I saw the same distress when we cried while saying our last goodbyes at the bus station and he said, “please calm down,” which made us laugh and cry all the more at the additional reminder of his great progress in four weeks of English classes.

Twelve hours on the night bus snuggled up to the not unattractive Thai man next to me sheer by spatial necessity (truly) delivered us to Bangkok. Ashley had been comfortable in the front row and my Thai friend and I were positioned directly next to the lavatory which presented obvious olfactory challenges. Nevertheless, we arrived and, having wizened after several stays in the city that seems to have me hiding after a day of braving the mecca of Southeast Asian “progress,” I had the ease of a hotel reservation to look forward to. I’d even stationed myself close to some of the city’s main sites that I’d missed previously and also with easy access to the airport. How savvy is that? Ok, I’m a slow learner but seriously, if you haven’t been to Bangkok you won’t understand what a triumphant achievement this is unaided. This is especially true for a country-girl-at-heart like me. In any case, I was happily delivered by taxi to my hotel immediately after rescuing Ashley from getting into an unmarked cab and taking her to the guest house she’d booked.

Also in my effort to be prepared, I’d purchased a plane ticket to Myanmar prematurely having misunderstood the visa requirements due to the fact that the Ministry of Immigration’s website states that a visa on arrival is available. Imagine my surprise to discover that no one honors this and thus I had to stay an extra two days in Bangkok in order to obtain my visa. The process was two days long but fortunately easy for me. Ashley wasn’t as fortunate having been delayed in the receipt of her work visa because the font on one of her documents was deemed to small.

The extra two days gave me time to see a few sites and also plenty of time to fall for one of the oldest scams in the book – the good old fashioned jewelry con. I am a trusting person in general, at least within the superficial context of acquaintances, but this is so utterly unlike me. I’d read about this stuff. I suppose I was tired and let my guard down. Excuses, excuses. Anyway, there’s no harm done in the long run but the memory of a whole lot of hassle that’s still in progress in the effort of the recovery of the small fortune stupidly lost. The irritation of dealing with these time consuming challenges in Bangkok was greatly soothed by the knowledge that I’d soon be heading to Myanmar.

I think I’ve written this before but I suppose life on the road is just like life at home only on overdrive. After the honeymoon period wears off, the highs and lows come in more frequent succession and the lessons are more acute. All the things that I believe the universe to have been attempting to tell me at home by voicing a whisper are now coming as if from a foghorn six inches from my head. Case in point: the other day I had an Indian palmist/astrologist in Mandalay tell me not only that I shouldn’t marry someone born on Monday having been born on Friday myself (fine since I’m not presently in danger of marriage of any kind) but also that I should talk only when it’s time to talk and otherwise spend my time listening. He said that the tendency to talk will get me into trouble. Useful considering that my tendency to talk has caused almost every difficulty I’ve had in my life including the aforementioned Bangkok swindle. Ah, I live, I learn.

this trip isn't over

well, i'm back in colorado for a bit to attend to a family matter and, as much as i miss asia (sigh), it's fantastic to see my dog (who is glued to me as much as ever), family, and friends - including emmy, my friend juleanne's beautiful new adopted baby from china - and to catch up on sleep. i've been home just over a week and the jet lag has been brutal. having only been able to form coherent sentences for the last day or so, the persistent wanderlust took a short hiatus. it's back in full force now.

my mom and sister and i are leaving for ireland on june 9 and i may stay in europe for a while after our three weeks together. oddly though, europe doesn't appeal too much at the moment and what i really long for is to head back to india, nepal, tibet... soon. until i'm on the road again i'll count on friends like andrew and yarrow to keep me entertained with travel stories. keep the posts coming, please!

in the meantime, i PROMISE i'm going to post my myanmar writings within the next couple of days. i'm not sure why it's been so difficult for me to perfect this story. i think i'm just having a hard time articulating the impact that it made on me but i suppose that some of it is just impossible to convey and will remain personal.

also to come: more photos on flickr (there are so many and i'd like to edit a bit first. for once.) - including those of the bhutan paro festival, photos of my friend min min's paintings that i'll be selling for him here in the states (which will mean so much more after you read about my experience in myanmar), and writings on bhutan. finally, upon my friend jim's suggestion, i'm planning to create a site to showcase the best photos from this trip but i have days of editing to do before that will become a reality. i'm on it...

a few photos from Bhutan, pre-paro Festival (those photos are to come)