If someone were to ask me the one thing they should do or see in South East Asia in any of the countries or cities that I have been to, I would say without a doubt ''Go to the markets!" And this applies to every single place I have been.
The markets of the villages and towns and cities in Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia are the heartbeat of daily life, as far as I could tell. The markets (morning, day, and night) are a place where people not only get all of their fruits, vegetables, fish, meats, (red ants, frogs, pigs feet etc) but it is also a place where people socialize and gossip and connect. I have been told by many locals that some people visit their local markets at least 3 times a day, buying their produce one meal at a time. People working at the market are there all day, of course, so it is absolutely the center of their universe.
My second day in Phnom Penh, I rented a bicycle (my favorite way to see new places and explore), and wound up hitting many of the cities' markets, some deliberately and some accidentally. In the morning on my way to trying to find the ''Russian Market'' (Psar Tuol Tom Pong), I cycled through another market that took up a long stretch of the street as well as some attached alleys, and, there were so many people, flowers, fruits, meats, bananas- so colorful! So many people on bicycles, motorbikes, pushing carts, squeezing produce, chatting- and I never even figured out which 'market' this was- it may be that there are just markets anywhere and everywhere and so many that only the biggest are named.
Anyhow, after stopping to snap many photos, and also walking my bicycle through tiny people-crowded aisles at a snails pace (and nobody was annoyed that I brought my bike through, because EVERYONE is just all over each other and squeezing through spaces on foot, by bike, on motorbikes, that would never happen in America), I found the Russian Market. This was an indoor/covered market, with aisle after aisle of clothing, beautiful porcelain opium pipes (''for decoration only, of course''), shoes, scarves, cowbells, toys, mobiles, bed covers, haircuts, tools, food- you name it! There was anything and everything, and all of the stalls were selling the same stuff, so it is a serious bargaining experience with the supply being greater than the demand with straggling tourists who are ''just browsing''. This makes the sellers a bit pushier than I would like, though I sympathize- if they don't push, then a tourist could easily buy the same thing by a pushier seller just one stall away. I also kept getting lost in here, and was relieved when I finally found the food stalls where I sat down and had some Khmer Tea, and some chicken and rice.
From there, I went to ''Cafe Yeji" just across the street, a more modern and air-conditioned restaurant serving more upscale types of foods while promoting fair-trade and responsible employment. Next door, I visited ''Rajana,'' which also sells products made in fair-trade/fair-wage manners, with neat products including cards, wallets, cool decorative items, neat stuffed animals, and more. I bought my mommy something here (you'll get it eventually, Mom! The Cambodian postal system is slow!)
From there, I was already quite tired. I headed back to my guesthouse, which was a newer technique on my part- until now I had been going all morning, afternoon, and evening lately, and I was finally wearing out, as well as learning that if I am to survive my final few weeks in SE Asia, I had better take some time out! When returning to my guesthouse, I also wound up having a lengthy and very interesting conversation with some of the tuk-tuk drivers outside of my guesthouse, about life, politics, and of course the possible sights they could take me to the next day if I needed a tuk-tuk. :) This is something else about Cambodia I have noticed- even though everyone is trying to offer you their services and make a buck like everyone else in SE Asia, they are also totally willing and able to engage in easy and genuine conversation, even if your answer is ''no'', ''no'', and ''no'' again. I value this aspect of the Cambodian culture greatly, and have LOVED the conversations I have been able to have so easily with the locals. Smiles, laughs, and conversation come for free here in Cambodia- halelujiah!
I took a few hours ''off'' in my guesthouse- probably blogging and not REALLY resting- and when evening time came, I went cycling down the street to Orrussey Market in search of dinner- food food food galore! BBQ meat everywhere! My dream come true! I was so so very hungry, and usually there is not much that can get between me and food when I am hungry, but the sights of this market were so interesting, that I cycled around the market loop 3 times just to take photographs before it got too dark to do so. I can't wait to post these photos upon my return home! I wound up buying some grilled chicken and grilled pork from a super nice Cambodian guy and his wife, and got some to go, as well, as my appetite has been more endless than ever along my travels.
After dinner, though tired, I felt compelled to cycle to the riverside -Tonle Sap River. I thought I would just cycle along the street there, or, walk down the pedestrian walkway, and go home shortly thereafter. My plans were ''thwarted'' by a most beautiful and glorious and enlivening celebration!
Apparently, four times per month (usually once per week but not always) there is a day where Cambodians celebrate the Buddha, it is a holy day. On this particular night, there were two pagodas on the riverfront that were completely lit up with tiny lights, an people hovering around them. The first one I approached there were not too many people, but there was definitely something going on- I was approached by women and younger girls to buy flowers and incense to offer inside the small holy room, and though I did not know exactly what I was offering to/for yet, I accepted and went inside, and listened to a blessing of some sort in Cambodian, and was shown the proper way to offer and to kneel and such. That was neat, and I was happy enough and was ready to go home.
But, just a few hundred yards away was ANOTHER pagoda, and music, and THIS litte holy house was BURSTING at the seams with Cambodian people, offering flowers, incense, coconuts, buying caged birds and setting them free, while a traditional Cambodian group of musicians played endless beautiful warm soft joyous and sublime music, on percussion instruments as well as melodic malleted instruments that I have never seen or heard before. I believe I spent a good two hours there that night, just watching and listening and talking to some of the young kids trying to sell me birds and flowers, and trying to find out from someone who could speak English to explain to me what this was all for.
The entire two hours I was there, the crowds never slowed or dissipated. I do not know what time this celebration began, or what time it ended, but the atmosphere was so fully charged with spiritual energy and devotion, it was really a wonder to be a witness to. I often try and participate in local happenings and rituals when permittable, but in this case, I just wanted to watch and observe and take it all in and feel all of the joy it was bringing me in the purity of the hearts and spirits of all of these Cambodians. I could have stayed there all night for how much interest and joy it carried for me, but I eventually began to fade, and rode my bicycle happily home for a good night's sleep.
I felt so very lucky, because if I hadn't gone on that particular night, I would never have witnessed this beautiful, pure, and wonderful celebration of the Buddha.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Entering Cambodia and my first day in Phnom Penh
As I have become accustomed to throughout my travels in Laos for the past 6 weeks, I showed up for my bus at 8:30am, but it turned out to not plan on leaving until 9:30am, while the bus drivers collected passports from all of the travelers as well as money, in preparation for crossing the border from Laos to Cambodia. The bus left around 9:30am, but we didn't really leave Laos until about 11am, as we had to go through the whole border crossing which involved getting off the bus, walking through the mud across the border, waiting for our bus guys to come back with our stamped passports and visas for Cambodia, as well as the ''quarantine department'' coming onto the bus and taking each of our temperatures with a scanner gun on each of our cheeks, and finally slowly pulling away and saying goodbye to the country that I had spent an amazing 6 weeks in.
The bus ride was about 8 hours. I spent the majority of the bus ride reading my most recent book "Survival in the Killing Fields", another devastating autobiography by a Cambodian who miraculously survived all four years of the Khmer Rouge Regime (another one to read if you are interested in learning about the Khmer Rouge takeover: "First They Killed My Father"). I also spent a lot of time looking out the windows of the bus and seeing beautiful Cambodian countryside. We got into Phnom Penh (the capitol city of Cambodia) around 7:30pm that evening. I got taken from the bus to my hotel by a Cambodian tuk-tuk driver (they were all swarming to get to me first, the only foreigner on the bus!) who spoke exactly like an Australian- it was a little bit eerie/creepy, actually! No Cambodian accent whatsoever!
He took me to the River Star Hotel by the riverfront (after many efforts to convince me to stay at another hotel or guesthouse, which is quite common here apparently), which, I thought I would treat myself to upon arriving into the big city after two and a half weeks in a tiny quiet island for $6 a night in my bungalow there. While seeking security and comfort by choosing this hotel, I realized that it was not what I wanted at all- I paid a (discounted) $27 per night for a room that was well-decorated and air-conditioned (this is by far the most I have paid for accommodation during my entire 3.5 months that I have been traveling!) but the staff were of the fancy hotel ass-kissing genre that makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable, and I could barely walk a foot or take a bite of food without someone asking me if there was anything I needed or if I was enjoying my food.
Also, the woman who served me dinner asked me my name, where I was from, then asked if I had an email address, and then asked for my email address- this was the entirety of our conversation! I had heard that Cambodians were incredibly friendly, but this was a little bit too close for comfort for me. I decided that I would be checking out immediately the next morning, but in the meantime I would enjoy one night's sleep in the comfortable bed.
The next morning, I ate my complimentary breakfast in the lobby, and while sitting there stretching and yawning, a tuk-tuk driver outside caught my eye. He laughed and smiled at my sleepy demeanor, and I smiled back. When I was done with breakfast I approached him and asked him if he could help me to find a new and better guesthouse or hotel. He agreed, and also talked me into hiring him to go to four different sights that day. Usually, I like to hire a bicycle and explore solo-style, but, I was feeling quite tired from the long day of travel the day before, and wasn't quite ready for the full-on city yet, so, I was happy to accept this time.
After visiting a few places, we found the 'Nice Guesthouse', which, was indeed, ''nice" and I loved staying there. The people there offered excellent rooms and service, for only $11 per night, and while they were always there to help if I needed it, otherwise we all just did our own thing, and it felt very ''Cambodian" as opposed to a tourist place. Also, now that I wasn't at the ''most desired location" at the riverfront, where all the tourists like to go, I was also in a ''real" neighborhood, where locals lived and worked, and I felt much more at home there.
''Ha"was the name of my tuk-tuk driver, and he was a young guy of 25 who had a very nice disposition, so in addition to having a good day of sightseeing from his tuk-tuk, we also enjoyed each other's company. He patiently waited as I went through 3-4 guesthouses to find the 'right' one, and took me to a local food joint that I wouldn't have found otherwise- where Cambodian people go to eat- food served by an older woman, who had warmth and kindness throughout her being, and tasty food. I had my first ''Fish Amok" a traditional Khmer dish- delicious! Ha and I ate lunch together, and chatted and had a really nice time.
Next, he took me to my first desired location- The Killing Fields. Today was to be a difficult day. The Killing Fields is the location of many mass graves of Cambodians killed by the Khmer Rouge between 1975-1979. I had now read two autobiographies about this time period and the killings and suffering that went on, and I knew it was to be a somber day indeed, but was also a big part of why I wanted to come to Phnom Penh in the first place.
It was a quiet place, with a large memorial building filled with skulls of the people's remains found in the mass graves, stacked at least ten levels high, all labeled and sorted by age and gender. At the bottom level of this memorial building was a large pile of clothing from the people who died in the Killing Fields. There was a man outside the memorial selling flowers and incense to offer in remembrance, and I bought some and made my offering.
Next, I walked to the fields themselves, which were large pits in the ground, now with grass grown in where there was once only dirt. There were a number of different mass graves, some marked with signs indicating the number of people per grave, or the state of their remains when found. There were scraps of clothing still scattered around the ground, which made this otherwise peaceful-seeming field seem more real in the purpose that it carried a little over 30 years ago.
There was a small museum and a short movie to watch about the events that took place, and then I went to find Ha again. Next, he took me to ''S-21'', a former primary school that was turned into a torture and killing prison. There were many many rooms (once classrooms) with rusted metal beds, old-ammo cans meant for excrement, as well as many ankle-shackles and torture instruments left behind. There were many rooms filled with photos of the victims that had lived and died at S-21, and it was very intense being there. I did not cry that whole day, but I could feel an energy building inside of me that felt like a scream wanting to make its way to the outside, or a sick feeling that wanted to be relieved but couldn't.
A really special thing that happened here is that I met one of the survivors. I was standing in one room, looking at a photo of a survivor and reading his story of torture and captivity, when suddenly I saw the man himself standing in front of this information board. Myself and many other tourists suddenly stood up straighter and looked at him with soft and amazed eyes, not quite sure what to say, and a small utterance of ''oh!" came involuntarily from my mouth.
I watched the man talking with another tourist couple, and followed him from a distance as he walked out of the room. When he finally stopped outside to just stand and look around the courtyard, I slowly approached him, and said "Hello. I read about your story", and he put his hands together and bowed to me and said 'Ha-Khun' (thank you) and I did the same back to him. He gave me his card, and I shook his hand and thanked him again. It was just humbling to be in this mans presence, who had such a gentleness, but also such pain and age in his eyes, as well as a hope that glimmered through. His card gave information for an organization that he was a part of in creating justice for Cambodians.
After this, it was time for an hour-long documentary that showed twice in a day. With twenty minutes before the movie was to start, I ran across the street and had an excellent quick meal, as I could feel myself becoming quite dazed and ungrounded from witnessing the photos and location and stories of such suffering. I realized I was about .50 cents short for the meal I had ordered, but the family kindly gave it to me anyway when I offered to buy something cheaper, and not only that, but they brought me a big glass of water and two bananas. I wolfed it all down and felt gratitude for their kindness.
By the time I sat down for the movie, I could barely take in what I was watching and hearing. I couldn't follow the story any more, I was too full from what I had learned and seen all day long- it was intense and very sad. By this time, it was 4pm, and while I had originally planned to go to the National Museum and the Royal Palace with Ha, I asked him if he could just take me to my guesthouse. I had spent 6-7 hours touring these death sites and memorials, and as painful as it was, I could barely tear myself away.
That night I had a simple meal out, and got a massage from a kind older lady on the riverfront, and went to bed early, still digesting all that I had seen and experienced on what was only my first day in Cambodia, and in Phnom Penh. I was looking forward to the next day, when I would rent a bicycle and do my own exploring.
The bus ride was about 8 hours. I spent the majority of the bus ride reading my most recent book "Survival in the Killing Fields", another devastating autobiography by a Cambodian who miraculously survived all four years of the Khmer Rouge Regime (another one to read if you are interested in learning about the Khmer Rouge takeover: "First They Killed My Father"). I also spent a lot of time looking out the windows of the bus and seeing beautiful Cambodian countryside. We got into Phnom Penh (the capitol city of Cambodia) around 7:30pm that evening. I got taken from the bus to my hotel by a Cambodian tuk-tuk driver (they were all swarming to get to me first, the only foreigner on the bus!) who spoke exactly like an Australian- it was a little bit eerie/creepy, actually! No Cambodian accent whatsoever!
He took me to the River Star Hotel by the riverfront (after many efforts to convince me to stay at another hotel or guesthouse, which is quite common here apparently), which, I thought I would treat myself to upon arriving into the big city after two and a half weeks in a tiny quiet island for $6 a night in my bungalow there. While seeking security and comfort by choosing this hotel, I realized that it was not what I wanted at all- I paid a (discounted) $27 per night for a room that was well-decorated and air-conditioned (this is by far the most I have paid for accommodation during my entire 3.5 months that I have been traveling!) but the staff were of the fancy hotel ass-kissing genre that makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable, and I could barely walk a foot or take a bite of food without someone asking me if there was anything I needed or if I was enjoying my food.
Also, the woman who served me dinner asked me my name, where I was from, then asked if I had an email address, and then asked for my email address- this was the entirety of our conversation! I had heard that Cambodians were incredibly friendly, but this was a little bit too close for comfort for me. I decided that I would be checking out immediately the next morning, but in the meantime I would enjoy one night's sleep in the comfortable bed.
The next morning, I ate my complimentary breakfast in the lobby, and while sitting there stretching and yawning, a tuk-tuk driver outside caught my eye. He laughed and smiled at my sleepy demeanor, and I smiled back. When I was done with breakfast I approached him and asked him if he could help me to find a new and better guesthouse or hotel. He agreed, and also talked me into hiring him to go to four different sights that day. Usually, I like to hire a bicycle and explore solo-style, but, I was feeling quite tired from the long day of travel the day before, and wasn't quite ready for the full-on city yet, so, I was happy to accept this time.
After visiting a few places, we found the 'Nice Guesthouse', which, was indeed, ''nice" and I loved staying there. The people there offered excellent rooms and service, for only $11 per night, and while they were always there to help if I needed it, otherwise we all just did our own thing, and it felt very ''Cambodian" as opposed to a tourist place. Also, now that I wasn't at the ''most desired location" at the riverfront, where all the tourists like to go, I was also in a ''real" neighborhood, where locals lived and worked, and I felt much more at home there.
''Ha"was the name of my tuk-tuk driver, and he was a young guy of 25 who had a very nice disposition, so in addition to having a good day of sightseeing from his tuk-tuk, we also enjoyed each other's company. He patiently waited as I went through 3-4 guesthouses to find the 'right' one, and took me to a local food joint that I wouldn't have found otherwise- where Cambodian people go to eat- food served by an older woman, who had warmth and kindness throughout her being, and tasty food. I had my first ''Fish Amok" a traditional Khmer dish- delicious! Ha and I ate lunch together, and chatted and had a really nice time.
Next, he took me to my first desired location- The Killing Fields. Today was to be a difficult day. The Killing Fields is the location of many mass graves of Cambodians killed by the Khmer Rouge between 1975-1979. I had now read two autobiographies about this time period and the killings and suffering that went on, and I knew it was to be a somber day indeed, but was also a big part of why I wanted to come to Phnom Penh in the first place.
It was a quiet place, with a large memorial building filled with skulls of the people's remains found in the mass graves, stacked at least ten levels high, all labeled and sorted by age and gender. At the bottom level of this memorial building was a large pile of clothing from the people who died in the Killing Fields. There was a man outside the memorial selling flowers and incense to offer in remembrance, and I bought some and made my offering.
Next, I walked to the fields themselves, which were large pits in the ground, now with grass grown in where there was once only dirt. There were a number of different mass graves, some marked with signs indicating the number of people per grave, or the state of their remains when found. There were scraps of clothing still scattered around the ground, which made this otherwise peaceful-seeming field seem more real in the purpose that it carried a little over 30 years ago.
There was a small museum and a short movie to watch about the events that took place, and then I went to find Ha again. Next, he took me to ''S-21'', a former primary school that was turned into a torture and killing prison. There were many many rooms (once classrooms) with rusted metal beds, old-ammo cans meant for excrement, as well as many ankle-shackles and torture instruments left behind. There were many rooms filled with photos of the victims that had lived and died at S-21, and it was very intense being there. I did not cry that whole day, but I could feel an energy building inside of me that felt like a scream wanting to make its way to the outside, or a sick feeling that wanted to be relieved but couldn't.
A really special thing that happened here is that I met one of the survivors. I was standing in one room, looking at a photo of a survivor and reading his story of torture and captivity, when suddenly I saw the man himself standing in front of this information board. Myself and many other tourists suddenly stood up straighter and looked at him with soft and amazed eyes, not quite sure what to say, and a small utterance of ''oh!" came involuntarily from my mouth.
I watched the man talking with another tourist couple, and followed him from a distance as he walked out of the room. When he finally stopped outside to just stand and look around the courtyard, I slowly approached him, and said "Hello. I read about your story", and he put his hands together and bowed to me and said 'Ha-Khun' (thank you) and I did the same back to him. He gave me his card, and I shook his hand and thanked him again. It was just humbling to be in this mans presence, who had such a gentleness, but also such pain and age in his eyes, as well as a hope that glimmered through. His card gave information for an organization that he was a part of in creating justice for Cambodians.
After this, it was time for an hour-long documentary that showed twice in a day. With twenty minutes before the movie was to start, I ran across the street and had an excellent quick meal, as I could feel myself becoming quite dazed and ungrounded from witnessing the photos and location and stories of such suffering. I realized I was about .50 cents short for the meal I had ordered, but the family kindly gave it to me anyway when I offered to buy something cheaper, and not only that, but they brought me a big glass of water and two bananas. I wolfed it all down and felt gratitude for their kindness.
By the time I sat down for the movie, I could barely take in what I was watching and hearing. I couldn't follow the story any more, I was too full from what I had learned and seen all day long- it was intense and very sad. By this time, it was 4pm, and while I had originally planned to go to the National Museum and the Royal Palace with Ha, I asked him if he could just take me to my guesthouse. I had spent 6-7 hours touring these death sites and memorials, and as painful as it was, I could barely tear myself away.
That night I had a simple meal out, and got a massage from a kind older lady on the riverfront, and went to bed early, still digesting all that I had seen and experienced on what was only my first day in Cambodia, and in Phnom Penh. I was looking forward to the next day, when I would rent a bicycle and do my own exploring.
My Last 5 Days in Laos and the 4,000 Islands
The Saturday morning of our second teaching weekend (we were going to be leaving for class two hours later), I was out on my bungalow porch meditating at 6:45am, when Lies came out to her porch and told me that the Translator had just called, and that our weekend of teaching was cancelled, the reason given- Mr. Bunchan was out of town. We were both stunned, and didn't really understand why this meant we couldn't teach, but, I suggested we just go to breakfast and re-think the next few days. For me, it also meant re-thinking how long I wanted to stay on the islands, as my original aim was to teach as well as relax.. I still had much to see in Cambodia and Thailand! Later that day, I decided that I would leave in the next 3-4 days.
We had some breakfast and tea, and I said "Well, I'm going back to bed. We'll see what happens later". And I proceeded to sleep from 9am-1pm in my porch hammock. Wow! Having spent most of the day asleep, and wanting to make the most of these final few days, I said to Lies "Let's go see the Irrawadee Dolphins!" The Irrawadee Dolphins are a special dolphin that only live in a certain part of the Mekong River between Laos and Cambodia. They are rarely sighted and only briefly so if seen, but, it seems to be a rite of passage of all tourists coming to the islands.
So, we rode our bikes to a rather isolated beach where there are small boats, and hired a boatman to take us to Cambodia about a twenty minute boat ride away, where we climbed the stairs to land, paid $2, and sat on a bench and saw dolphins! Many of them, and for quite a long time! It was so neat and a special little outing, especially since we didn't really expect to see dolphins. I learned my first Cambodian/Khmer word from the kind-eyed Cambodian ranger there "Ha-khun," which means "thank you." I was already feeling excited to go to Cambodia after this brief encounter.
The next day I woke up early again, ate breakfast, meditated and yoga-d, and at 11am went back to my hammock and slept until 4pm! Wow! I was quite tired from waking up too early for no reason the whole past week, and this was after already feeling exhausted from so much travel before arriving in the 4,000 islands- I was finally catching up.
For my second to last day, Lies and I made a trip to ''The Big Island" of Dong Khong, which was a 2 hour boat ride away. It was a great day- we both started out kind of sleepy, but as the day progressed we became enlivened. We rented bicycles and cycled around the entirety of the island which was at least 30km if not more, and it was so beautiful! More cows and water buffaloes and local villagers and children, but more, and bigger fields, and bigger houses, and almost NO TOURISTS. The landscape changed many times, and so did the weather. The people were so friendly, and all waved and shouted ''Sa-bai-dee!" We went through bright sunshine and then cloudy rainy drops. We visited two temples, and watched some local Lao kids playing hide and seek in one of them, and had a great photo opportunity there- and everywhere!
The next day was my last day, and it was pretty low-key. I took care of loose ends, did a final little bike ride around the island on my favorite paths and backroads, got a massage from a local married couple on Don Khon (who tag-team massage their clients since the wife is pregnant, either so he can help her to take the brunt of the work, or for her to help train him in time for the baby to come, I wasn't quite sure which) took some more photos, and started packing and reading about where I would go in Cambodia.
I met Lies for dinner, and we both had little surprise gifts from each other, which was so sweet, as we had come to know each other quite well over this past two and a half weeks, and were similarly thoughtful to each other and had grown quite close. I am really happy that I met Lies- I learned a lot from her- we learned a lot from each other! We gained much support and appreciation from each other, are both on similar paths of personal growth and self-discovery, and were a great team in teaching and otherwise. It was really sweet having a female companion that was such a kindred spirit, and I am quite grateful.
The next morning, I woke up early as usual, so I would have time to meditate and stretch before breakfast and leaving the country to Cambodia after 6 weeks in Laos (this was a routine that I finally started once I had gotten to the 4,000 islands, as influenced by Lies. I had lost my practice for a while there during my travels!) I had a final breakfast with Lies, had a fun little photo shoot with Meow and her sister as well as their mother. Also, before I left, the mother and two sisters had a little ceremony/ritual for me, where they each tied a white piece of string around my wrist, and said a blessing in Lao, and then in English, wishing me good luck on my travels. It was quite touching. Then, the boatman who had been taking us everywhere these past two weeks "Mr Sien" arrived to take me away on the boat to the mainland, to catch my bus.
I hugged everyone, and Lies and the two sisters followed me to the boat, and they waved and waved and waved until I could only see hands waving from behind some trees, until I could not see them anymore. We were all smiling and laughing and doubling over and waving- it was a sweet sweet parting, and while I knew that I would miss them, I could feel the love carrying me to my next destination.
We had some breakfast and tea, and I said "Well, I'm going back to bed. We'll see what happens later". And I proceeded to sleep from 9am-1pm in my porch hammock. Wow! Having spent most of the day asleep, and wanting to make the most of these final few days, I said to Lies "Let's go see the Irrawadee Dolphins!" The Irrawadee Dolphins are a special dolphin that only live in a certain part of the Mekong River between Laos and Cambodia. They are rarely sighted and only briefly so if seen, but, it seems to be a rite of passage of all tourists coming to the islands.
So, we rode our bikes to a rather isolated beach where there are small boats, and hired a boatman to take us to Cambodia about a twenty minute boat ride away, where we climbed the stairs to land, paid $2, and sat on a bench and saw dolphins! Many of them, and for quite a long time! It was so neat and a special little outing, especially since we didn't really expect to see dolphins. I learned my first Cambodian/Khmer word from the kind-eyed Cambodian ranger there "Ha-khun," which means "thank you." I was already feeling excited to go to Cambodia after this brief encounter.
The next day I woke up early again, ate breakfast, meditated and yoga-d, and at 11am went back to my hammock and slept until 4pm! Wow! I was quite tired from waking up too early for no reason the whole past week, and this was after already feeling exhausted from so much travel before arriving in the 4,000 islands- I was finally catching up.
For my second to last day, Lies and I made a trip to ''The Big Island" of Dong Khong, which was a 2 hour boat ride away. It was a great day- we both started out kind of sleepy, but as the day progressed we became enlivened. We rented bicycles and cycled around the entirety of the island which was at least 30km if not more, and it was so beautiful! More cows and water buffaloes and local villagers and children, but more, and bigger fields, and bigger houses, and almost NO TOURISTS. The landscape changed many times, and so did the weather. The people were so friendly, and all waved and shouted ''Sa-bai-dee!" We went through bright sunshine and then cloudy rainy drops. We visited two temples, and watched some local Lao kids playing hide and seek in one of them, and had a great photo opportunity there- and everywhere!
The next day was my last day, and it was pretty low-key. I took care of loose ends, did a final little bike ride around the island on my favorite paths and backroads, got a massage from a local married couple on Don Khon (who tag-team massage their clients since the wife is pregnant, either so he can help her to take the brunt of the work, or for her to help train him in time for the baby to come, I wasn't quite sure which) took some more photos, and started packing and reading about where I would go in Cambodia.
I met Lies for dinner, and we both had little surprise gifts from each other, which was so sweet, as we had come to know each other quite well over this past two and a half weeks, and were similarly thoughtful to each other and had grown quite close. I am really happy that I met Lies- I learned a lot from her- we learned a lot from each other! We gained much support and appreciation from each other, are both on similar paths of personal growth and self-discovery, and were a great team in teaching and otherwise. It was really sweet having a female companion that was such a kindred spirit, and I am quite grateful.
The next morning, I woke up early as usual, so I would have time to meditate and stretch before breakfast and leaving the country to Cambodia after 6 weeks in Laos (this was a routine that I finally started once I had gotten to the 4,000 islands, as influenced by Lies. I had lost my practice for a while there during my travels!) I had a final breakfast with Lies, had a fun little photo shoot with Meow and her sister as well as their mother. Also, before I left, the mother and two sisters had a little ceremony/ritual for me, where they each tied a white piece of string around my wrist, and said a blessing in Lao, and then in English, wishing me good luck on my travels. It was quite touching. Then, the boatman who had been taking us everywhere these past two weeks "Mr Sien" arrived to take me away on the boat to the mainland, to catch my bus.
I hugged everyone, and Lies and the two sisters followed me to the boat, and they waved and waved and waved until I could only see hands waving from behind some trees, until I could not see them anymore. We were all smiling and laughing and doubling over and waving- it was a sweet sweet parting, and while I knew that I would miss them, I could feel the love carrying me to my next destination.
Exploring Don Det and Don Khon
After our first chaotic and on-the-fly crazy first English class, the second class was easy-peasy. Lies and I knew what we were going to teach, who we were going to teach, what time, where, and for how long. It was awesome. These are the things we take for granted in the West, and I tell you, it has given me great appreciation for such order and certainty! That said, the challenges of this multi-cultural teaching experience made it all the more satisfying and gave a feeling of great accomplishment.
The kids were awesome, each with their own special and unique character (of course!). I gave them each little table-tent name tags so I could remember their names (it is one thing to remember ten new kids' names, it is another if they are Lao names that I can barely pronounce let alone remember!) There were some jokers/wise-guys, some shy girls who would barely speak, one teacher's-pet type, some very serious types, and all of the ranges of personalities- I loved them all! It was such a joy and an honor to be able to spend time with them, and do my best to teach them English- I really enjoyed it. And I was much more ''in the groove'' on this second day, and expended way less energy than our first crazy and chaotic day! I was quite pleased and satisfied during and after the class.
We got caught in the rain on the motorbike ride back with Mr. Kamsai and the Translator, so we all took cover under one of their houses on the way to the dock. This was a neat time for hanging out and just conversing, and I met the Translator's father, who had kind and gentle eyes, as well as his mother. On our way to class that morning, I had been riding on the back of the Translator's motorbike as usual, but this time he stopped after passing a Monk in dark brown robes (a sign of an elder/higher monk, I believe), parked the motorbike, excused himself from me for a moment, and ran to kneel in front of the monk. It turns out the Translator was once a monk himself in his younger years, like many Lao boys do as a right of passage. I learned a lot about the Translator that day, and, it was neat to see!
After this weekend of teaching, we had the next five days off, and Lies and I relaxed our butts off! We had been planning on teaching many more days originally, but since that is not what the Lao people wanted, we took advantage of our free time, and in fact, relished it. Our time was spent lazing in our bungalow porch hammocks, sometimes reading, sometimes napping, sometimes listening to music, and sometimes just laying there, being, watching the river and listening to the birds and the insects, or being with the intense rain that fell each afternoon and many evenings. Sometimes after the nighttime rain, the insects and frogs got so loud, that we literally could not hear ourselves speak! It was so powerful and amazing!
Other stuff we did separately and together- rode bicycles around Don Det and Don Khon Island exploring aimlessly. This was just so fun and satisfying, and we saw so many new and different things every day, whether it was families relaxing together, family celebrations and partying going on, a group of men trying to load a living water buffalo onto a small boat, or small children running around playing and giggling- it was all entrancing and wondrous to witness. I took a ridiculous amount of photos, because the landscape was just so beautiful, as well as the people. (Photos will come when I'm back home in a month or so).
We spent a lot of time at eating at our guesthouse restaurant, with a beautiful view of the Mekong and the bridge from Don Det to Don Khon right in front of us, our vantage point from the stilted open-air thatched roof hut that was the dining area. We spent many hours eating and talking and drinking tea while cuddling with the Santiphab kitties who intermittently begged as well as slept in our laps. I think we ate every item on that fantastic menu, and the two young ladies Meow and her younger sister were so sweet, were fantastic cooks, and were always playing with each other giggling like kids (they were 20 and 16 years old, but the way that they played and laughed made us smile with joy, as they could have been 4 and 5 years old from the freedom of their laughter). They arranged all of our boats for us, and fixed our rental bicycles whenever needed (which, was pretty much every day, sometimes twice in a day until on the final two days I started renting a bicycle from another guesthouse!)
One night when I was walking home late at night from downtown on the wide expansive country road, Meow and her younger sister and ANOTHER sister that I hadn't met yet saw me from their motorbike, and stopped, scooched forward to make room for me, and made me a FOURTH passenger on the back of their bike the rest of the way back to the guesthouse. This was my first time riding so "Lao-style" as this on a motorbike- I had driven motorbikes a ton on my own, and been the passenger of another driver, but this was my first 4-on-a-bike ride. We all giggled incessantly like schoolgirls the whole way back, and I felt so very happy.
One day while cycling aimlessly around Don Khon, Lies and I found a neat and secluded waterfall area with all sorts of rickety wooden bridges built over the water, and strange wooden structures that we didn't understand the purpose of. Whatever the case, we instantly stripped down to our bathing suits and sat in the water and let the river flow over us while we balanced delicately on the large and smooth rocks below us, until the sky clouded over, and the locals hanging out nearby indicated that we should get a move on out! We did, but not before the rain came. But it was great! It is hot outside, and the rain was light and warm, so we cycled through rice paddies in grass and puddles and through a monastery and saw the sights from our bicycles as we made our way home in the rain.
I completely fell in love with these islands and all of the people that we met along the way, especially our sweet guesthouse sisters and their parents and relatives that were always coming and going, eating meals, and hanging around. Our five days off were full and relaxing, and now we had another weekend of teaching to look forward to.
The kids were awesome, each with their own special and unique character (of course!). I gave them each little table-tent name tags so I could remember their names (it is one thing to remember ten new kids' names, it is another if they are Lao names that I can barely pronounce let alone remember!) There were some jokers/wise-guys, some shy girls who would barely speak, one teacher's-pet type, some very serious types, and all of the ranges of personalities- I loved them all! It was such a joy and an honor to be able to spend time with them, and do my best to teach them English- I really enjoyed it. And I was much more ''in the groove'' on this second day, and expended way less energy than our first crazy and chaotic day! I was quite pleased and satisfied during and after the class.
We got caught in the rain on the motorbike ride back with Mr. Kamsai and the Translator, so we all took cover under one of their houses on the way to the dock. This was a neat time for hanging out and just conversing, and I met the Translator's father, who had kind and gentle eyes, as well as his mother. On our way to class that morning, I had been riding on the back of the Translator's motorbike as usual, but this time he stopped after passing a Monk in dark brown robes (a sign of an elder/higher monk, I believe), parked the motorbike, excused himself from me for a moment, and ran to kneel in front of the monk. It turns out the Translator was once a monk himself in his younger years, like many Lao boys do as a right of passage. I learned a lot about the Translator that day, and, it was neat to see!
After this weekend of teaching, we had the next five days off, and Lies and I relaxed our butts off! We had been planning on teaching many more days originally, but since that is not what the Lao people wanted, we took advantage of our free time, and in fact, relished it. Our time was spent lazing in our bungalow porch hammocks, sometimes reading, sometimes napping, sometimes listening to music, and sometimes just laying there, being, watching the river and listening to the birds and the insects, or being with the intense rain that fell each afternoon and many evenings. Sometimes after the nighttime rain, the insects and frogs got so loud, that we literally could not hear ourselves speak! It was so powerful and amazing!
Other stuff we did separately and together- rode bicycles around Don Det and Don Khon Island exploring aimlessly. This was just so fun and satisfying, and we saw so many new and different things every day, whether it was families relaxing together, family celebrations and partying going on, a group of men trying to load a living water buffalo onto a small boat, or small children running around playing and giggling- it was all entrancing and wondrous to witness. I took a ridiculous amount of photos, because the landscape was just so beautiful, as well as the people. (Photos will come when I'm back home in a month or so).
We spent a lot of time at eating at our guesthouse restaurant, with a beautiful view of the Mekong and the bridge from Don Det to Don Khon right in front of us, our vantage point from the stilted open-air thatched roof hut that was the dining area. We spent many hours eating and talking and drinking tea while cuddling with the Santiphab kitties who intermittently begged as well as slept in our laps. I think we ate every item on that fantastic menu, and the two young ladies Meow and her younger sister were so sweet, were fantastic cooks, and were always playing with each other giggling like kids (they were 20 and 16 years old, but the way that they played and laughed made us smile with joy, as they could have been 4 and 5 years old from the freedom of their laughter). They arranged all of our boats for us, and fixed our rental bicycles whenever needed (which, was pretty much every day, sometimes twice in a day until on the final two days I started renting a bicycle from another guesthouse!)
One night when I was walking home late at night from downtown on the wide expansive country road, Meow and her younger sister and ANOTHER sister that I hadn't met yet saw me from their motorbike, and stopped, scooched forward to make room for me, and made me a FOURTH passenger on the back of their bike the rest of the way back to the guesthouse. This was my first time riding so "Lao-style" as this on a motorbike- I had driven motorbikes a ton on my own, and been the passenger of another driver, but this was my first 4-on-a-bike ride. We all giggled incessantly like schoolgirls the whole way back, and I felt so very happy.
One day while cycling aimlessly around Don Khon, Lies and I found a neat and secluded waterfall area with all sorts of rickety wooden bridges built over the water, and strange wooden structures that we didn't understand the purpose of. Whatever the case, we instantly stripped down to our bathing suits and sat in the water and let the river flow over us while we balanced delicately on the large and smooth rocks below us, until the sky clouded over, and the locals hanging out nearby indicated that we should get a move on out! We did, but not before the rain came. But it was great! It is hot outside, and the rain was light and warm, so we cycled through rice paddies in grass and puddles and through a monastery and saw the sights from our bicycles as we made our way home in the rain.
I completely fell in love with these islands and all of the people that we met along the way, especially our sweet guesthouse sisters and their parents and relatives that were always coming and going, eating meals, and hanging around. Our five days off were full and relaxing, and now we had another weekend of teaching to look forward to.
Monday, June 27, 2011
The Surprise of Our First English Class
On Saturday morning, Lies and I woke up early enough that we could both do some meditation and yoga on our individual bungalow porches, have a leisurely breakfast, order some lunch to take with us, and get on our private boat (30,000kip/$3.50USd) to get to the pier in time to meet Mr. Kamsai and the Translator 10:30am for our first English class that was to start at 1pm. The plan was to get to the classroom 2 hours early in order to look through the materials, and come up with a lesson plan to teach two sequential classes together between 1-4pm. It is a good thing that we had taken the time for meditation and yoga that morning, because as with the committee meeting two days earlier, things were not what we had expected at all.
Mr. Kamsai and the Translator were there and waiting for us as planned, but when we arrived at the school 20 or so minutes later with the expectation to do two hours of lesson-planning before class, as well as eating a take-away lunch we had specially ordered, we quickly discovered that instead, there were about 16 Lao students sitting inside the classroom waiting for us already!!! Not only that, but the 16 students included the two DIFFERENT groups that we had been planning on teaching together at two separate times (one from 1-2:30pm, and one from 2:30-4pm).
As it turned out, this was not the understanding of the Lao Committee- it seemed that their understanding was that we wanted them to pick us up at 10:30 to teach class at 11am to all of the students, each of us teaching our own class, and apparently they thought we were going to teach somehow for 5 hours, because the other part of the plan is that they were going to take us back to the pier at 4pm. It didn't seem to make sense at all, and in the moment our hearts and minds were struggling to figure out how this was going to work.
I could feel a distinct urge to freak out going on within me, but somehow, I managed to bypass this urge and instead step into ''Okay let's make this work" mode. I turned to Lies and said "I do not feel prepared to teach a class on my own, as I don't even know what our material consists of, etc! We'll have to teach the two groups all at once, or, request that one group come back in an hour or two" (though this second idea seemed unfair and unrealistic to ask of the kids that were already sitting there waiting). She agreed, and we turned to the committee and told them that we needed to teach together, so we would teach both groups at the same time.
We also said that now, since we were starting earlier (we tried our best to explain the confusion of this whole situation as well, but it all seemed quite lost on the translator and the rest of the group, so, we had to just make do with what was the current situation) that instead of picking us up at 4pm to return to the pier, they should pick us up at 2pm. The funny/ironic part about this, is, the translator said ''What? You are changing the plan now? You said 4pm but now you say 2pm."
One can only imagine how this conversation continued in its confusion, and all the while I could feel myself sweating like crazy, the reality of the students waiting for us just inside while we had a twenty minute conference about what the heck was going on just outside the classroom doors was starting to get to me. Enough was enough- "Alright, let's just go in and do it!"
So, Lies and I introduced ourselves to a classroom of kids that ranged from 6 years old to 20 years old, and decided to just figure out what everyone knew. We started with the alphabet. When they were all able to recite the alphabet quickly and easily with no hesitation at the first try, we realized they already knew a fair amount, as well as all being able to write their names in English on the board. Some of the older students began speaking in English in response to some of our questions, and I quickly realized that it was going to be immensely boring for the more experienced and older students to sit there while we taught the most basic of word to the younger kids.
After a short exercise of having the kids come up to the board to write out and spell out loud their names to the class, I turned to Lies and said 'Okay- I feel ready now. Give me the materials you have, and I'll take on the teenagers, and you can teach the younger girls.' And so, we split, after 15 minutes of awkward sussing out of our classroom of students.
The following 2-3 hours is a complete blur to me, but suddenly I became a teacher. I asked my ten or so students aged 14-20 to move to a small section of desks instead of being spread across the whole classroom to get a more informal and intimate feel, and began teaching. I showed them pictures and asked them to say the english words. I ran back and forth between them and the blackboard, writing words and phrases, asking them to repeat after me, sometimes correcting their pronunciation and asking them to repeat words, and other times laughing and commending their excellent pronunciation.
I gave them vocabulary for articles of clothing, parts of the body, and did a whole section on present-tense verb conjugation. I did a section where I talked about feelings, and how to express being happy, sad, tired, and hungry. I was gesticulating wildly, with chalk on my hands and soon on my black dress, and using exaggerated facial expressions to communicate what particular emotions the words were describing, and the kids were responding with laughter of appreciation, as well as understanding. When I told them the word 'bicycle' and they thought I meant 'motorbike,' I ran to the board and drew a shoddy picture of a bicycle, and laughed and shook my head at my own poor rendition of the two-wheeled vehicle, and they laughed as well, and I could tell that they were really enjoying the class.
About an hour and a half into this mayhem of teaching, I called a break, as I could feel my hunger surging after the exertion it was taking to teach completely on the spot. I was thoroughly enjoying myself though, and Lies and I had a mini-conference outside of the classroom while stuffing our faces with our take-away lunches of chicken with cashew nuts cooked by our loyal and sweet Santiphab Guesthouse ladies, all the while being watched by our new students, as well as some of our Lao Committee members who were also observing the class (as well as participating as students after a while). We confirmed to each o ther that all was going well, and that while feeling slightly insane, we were both doing a great job on the fly, or as good as a person could do under the circumstances of little to no preparation. That said- thank goodness Lies had done so much preparation of materials in Belgium, so we at least had something to work with.
So, after eating, fifteen minutes later we went back in for a final hour. The entirety of this first class wound up being about a 3.5 hour ordeal, plus another half an hour of discussion with the committee after the class, but we knew that the next day it would be much simpler, calmer, and shorter since we now knew what we were dealing with. After dismissing our classes, to which we were greeted with ''Thank you very much Sir we will see you again tomorrow" by the students... (Sir??? Oh dear, we had much work ahead of us...) we were taken back to the pier by Mr. Kamsai and the Translator, feeling exhausted and excited after a successful first English class, and looking forward to lounging in our bungalow porch-hammocks to recover from this whirlwind, before we had to go back again the next day for class number two!!!
Mr. Kamsai and the Translator were there and waiting for us as planned, but when we arrived at the school 20 or so minutes later with the expectation to do two hours of lesson-planning before class, as well as eating a take-away lunch we had specially ordered, we quickly discovered that instead, there were about 16 Lao students sitting inside the classroom waiting for us already!!! Not only that, but the 16 students included the two DIFFERENT groups that we had been planning on teaching together at two separate times (one from 1-2:30pm, and one from 2:30-4pm).
As it turned out, this was not the understanding of the Lao Committee- it seemed that their understanding was that we wanted them to pick us up at 10:30 to teach class at 11am to all of the students, each of us teaching our own class, and apparently they thought we were going to teach somehow for 5 hours, because the other part of the plan is that they were going to take us back to the pier at 4pm. It didn't seem to make sense at all, and in the moment our hearts and minds were struggling to figure out how this was going to work.
I could feel a distinct urge to freak out going on within me, but somehow, I managed to bypass this urge and instead step into ''Okay let's make this work" mode. I turned to Lies and said "I do not feel prepared to teach a class on my own, as I don't even know what our material consists of, etc! We'll have to teach the two groups all at once, or, request that one group come back in an hour or two" (though this second idea seemed unfair and unrealistic to ask of the kids that were already sitting there waiting). She agreed, and we turned to the committee and told them that we needed to teach together, so we would teach both groups at the same time.
We also said that now, since we were starting earlier (we tried our best to explain the confusion of this whole situation as well, but it all seemed quite lost on the translator and the rest of the group, so, we had to just make do with what was the current situation) that instead of picking us up at 4pm to return to the pier, they should pick us up at 2pm. The funny/ironic part about this, is, the translator said ''What? You are changing the plan now? You said 4pm but now you say 2pm."
One can only imagine how this conversation continued in its confusion, and all the while I could feel myself sweating like crazy, the reality of the students waiting for us just inside while we had a twenty minute conference about what the heck was going on just outside the classroom doors was starting to get to me. Enough was enough- "Alright, let's just go in and do it!"
So, Lies and I introduced ourselves to a classroom of kids that ranged from 6 years old to 20 years old, and decided to just figure out what everyone knew. We started with the alphabet. When they were all able to recite the alphabet quickly and easily with no hesitation at the first try, we realized they already knew a fair amount, as well as all being able to write their names in English on the board. Some of the older students began speaking in English in response to some of our questions, and I quickly realized that it was going to be immensely boring for the more experienced and older students to sit there while we taught the most basic of word to the younger kids.
After a short exercise of having the kids come up to the board to write out and spell out loud their names to the class, I turned to Lies and said 'Okay- I feel ready now. Give me the materials you have, and I'll take on the teenagers, and you can teach the younger girls.' And so, we split, after 15 minutes of awkward sussing out of our classroom of students.
The following 2-3 hours is a complete blur to me, but suddenly I became a teacher. I asked my ten or so students aged 14-20 to move to a small section of desks instead of being spread across the whole classroom to get a more informal and intimate feel, and began teaching. I showed them pictures and asked them to say the english words. I ran back and forth between them and the blackboard, writing words and phrases, asking them to repeat after me, sometimes correcting their pronunciation and asking them to repeat words, and other times laughing and commending their excellent pronunciation.
I gave them vocabulary for articles of clothing, parts of the body, and did a whole section on present-tense verb conjugation. I did a section where I talked about feelings, and how to express being happy, sad, tired, and hungry. I was gesticulating wildly, with chalk on my hands and soon on my black dress, and using exaggerated facial expressions to communicate what particular emotions the words were describing, and the kids were responding with laughter of appreciation, as well as understanding. When I told them the word 'bicycle' and they thought I meant 'motorbike,' I ran to the board and drew a shoddy picture of a bicycle, and laughed and shook my head at my own poor rendition of the two-wheeled vehicle, and they laughed as well, and I could tell that they were really enjoying the class.
About an hour and a half into this mayhem of teaching, I called a break, as I could feel my hunger surging after the exertion it was taking to teach completely on the spot. I was thoroughly enjoying myself though, and Lies and I had a mini-conference outside of the classroom while stuffing our faces with our take-away lunches of chicken with cashew nuts cooked by our loyal and sweet Santiphab Guesthouse ladies, all the while being watched by our new students, as well as some of our Lao Committee members who were also observing the class (as well as participating as students after a while). We confirmed to each o ther that all was going well, and that while feeling slightly insane, we were both doing a great job on the fly, or as good as a person could do under the circumstances of little to no preparation. That said- thank goodness Lies had done so much preparation of materials in Belgium, so we at least had something to work with.
So, after eating, fifteen minutes later we went back in for a final hour. The entirety of this first class wound up being about a 3.5 hour ordeal, plus another half an hour of discussion with the committee after the class, but we knew that the next day it would be much simpler, calmer, and shorter since we now knew what we were dealing with. After dismissing our classes, to which we were greeted with ''Thank you very much Sir we will see you again tomorrow" by the students... (Sir??? Oh dear, we had much work ahead of us...) we were taken back to the pier by Mr. Kamsai and the Translator, feeling exhausted and excited after a successful first English class, and looking forward to lounging in our bungalow porch-hammocks to recover from this whirlwind, before we had to go back again the next day for class number two!!!
To Cambodia and Back
On Friday morning I woke up early, got breakfast, and hopped on a private boat that I had hired (for about a dollar more than going to the main pier) to take me directly from our guesthouse to Ban Nakasan to meet Mr. Khan, the Lao man who was going to take me by motorbike to Cambodia and back to extend my Lao visa.
All went off without a hitch- we drove about 20-25 minutes to the Lao-Cambodian border, I went through a series of offices to leave and re-enter the country (as well as paying $10 more than all the usual fees which I quickly realized was a bribe since my leaving and re-entry was 'special' as the Cambodian officer put it) while Mr. Khan patiently waited for 45 minutes or so, watching television with some locals at one of the food stands, and when I was done, he zipped me back to the pier. The whole time this all went on, I had an irrational paranoia that I was going to be scammed somehow by Mr. Khan, just because he seemed a bit strange sometimes, and was charging me a price that seemed far too low. But, my paranoia proved groundless, and, when 5 minutes from the pier he picked up a small girl from the side of the street who turned out to be his loving daughter, I realized even more that this was just a nice man, offering me a fair and decent price, and I was grateful. I waved to the girl when she hopped off the motorbike a few minutes later down the road, and she waved with a sweet smile back.
The whole trip from the pier and back was 2 hours! I showed my gratitude to Mr. Khan by paying him 50,000kip instead of the 30,000 he had asked for, as well as a handful of Rambutan fruit (one of my new SE Asian favorites) and a small plastic packet of two cigarettes that I had bought in Vientiane for situations just as this one. He smiled and laughed and seemed quite pleased at the extra tips, and it was a sweet and smooth transaction and morning altogether.
I was back in Don Det by 11am, and after having a nice lunch together, Lies and I decided to take advantage of the afternoon and decided to find the 'Li Phi' waterfalls that were so well known off of Don Khon island, as well as to find 'the beach' that everyone around here talked about. We had a wonderful and relaxing afternoon of taking photos of the impressive waterfalls, followed by some unexpected shopping on my part at the nearby vendor stands for cool gifts and Lao-style pants for myself with Lies as an excellent shopping-support friend, and finally finding 'the
beach' which was a tiny strip of sand at a very small and uniquely calm pool formed just off of the main flow of the Mekong river. We spent hours swimming and wading and talking and drying in the sun sitting on large rocks that jutted out of the river-pool. Other tourists came and went, and knew we'd be coming back here again soon.
That evening after dinner, we shared a chocolate rice-pudding with bananas while cuddling the Santiphab kitties in our laps, and talking with anticipation about our first day of teaching that we would be doing the next day, as well as setting up our private boat from our guesthouse. Nothing but excitement on Don Det!
All went off without a hitch- we drove about 20-25 minutes to the Lao-Cambodian border, I went through a series of offices to leave and re-enter the country (as well as paying $10 more than all the usual fees which I quickly realized was a bribe since my leaving and re-entry was 'special' as the Cambodian officer put it) while Mr. Khan patiently waited for 45 minutes or so, watching television with some locals at one of the food stands, and when I was done, he zipped me back to the pier. The whole time this all went on, I had an irrational paranoia that I was going to be scammed somehow by Mr. Khan, just because he seemed a bit strange sometimes, and was charging me a price that seemed far too low. But, my paranoia proved groundless, and, when 5 minutes from the pier he picked up a small girl from the side of the street who turned out to be his loving daughter, I realized even more that this was just a nice man, offering me a fair and decent price, and I was grateful. I waved to the girl when she hopped off the motorbike a few minutes later down the road, and she waved with a sweet smile back.
The whole trip from the pier and back was 2 hours! I showed my gratitude to Mr. Khan by paying him 50,000kip instead of the 30,000 he had asked for, as well as a handful of Rambutan fruit (one of my new SE Asian favorites) and a small plastic packet of two cigarettes that I had bought in Vientiane for situations just as this one. He smiled and laughed and seemed quite pleased at the extra tips, and it was a sweet and smooth transaction and morning altogether.
I was back in Don Det by 11am, and after having a nice lunch together, Lies and I decided to take advantage of the afternoon and decided to find the 'Li Phi' waterfalls that were so well known off of Don Khon island, as well as to find 'the beach' that everyone around here talked about. We had a wonderful and relaxing afternoon of taking photos of the impressive waterfalls, followed by some unexpected shopping on my part at the nearby vendor stands for cool gifts and Lao-style pants for myself with Lies as an excellent shopping-support friend, and finally finding 'the
beach' which was a tiny strip of sand at a very small and uniquely calm pool formed just off of the main flow of the Mekong river. We spent hours swimming and wading and talking and drying in the sun sitting on large rocks that jutted out of the river-pool. Other tourists came and went, and knew we'd be coming back here again soon.
That evening after dinner, we shared a chocolate rice-pudding with bananas while cuddling the Santiphab kitties in our laps, and talking with anticipation about our first day of teaching that we would be doing the next day, as well as setting up our private boat from our guesthouse. Nothing but excitement on Don Det!
The Committee Meeting
Once we got ourselves settled in our bungalows at Santiphab Guesthouse on Don Det Island in the 4,000 Islands in Laos that Thursday, Lies and I realized it was time to go soon to the teaching site in Ban Tamouang to set up the library of 300 books that Lies had brought after raising money to buy them, and to talk with ''Mr Kamsai" a bit about when we were to get started. When he had picked the books up from us 2 days earlier on his motorbike, he had made a plan to meet us at 1pm on this day, and was going to arrange transportation for us from the pier in Ban Nakasan. We had a quick lunch, and hopped on our rented bicycles to cycle to the pier.
Getting to the village where we would be teaching ''Ban-Tamouang" was quite the process, one that we managed to perfect after a few trips. Initially, we just rode two bicycles from our guesthouse to the main pier which took about 20 minutes, and assuming we could just hop on any boat to go to Ban Nakasang, we went. It turns out we actually had to wait around for quite a while for a boat, people telling us there was no boatman, and not being really clear on what the price would be, etc. After finally finding a boatman, and discovering the price (higher than the usual), we got going, but we were nearly a half an hour late for our pick up time with Mr. Kamsai!
Luckily, Mr. Kamsai is quite patient and good-natured, and was smiling when we got there, and also had a friend with him with another motorbike. So, Lies and I each got on the back of a motorbike, and off we went, to set up the library and see where we would be teaching over the next few weeks. While on the back of my motorbike, somehow in the first few minutes the driver (named Mr. Khan) found out that I needed to cross the Cambodian border in the next few days, and we made a plan in the first 5 minutes of this 20 minute motorbike ride that he would take me the next day on motorbike over the Cambodian border and back- for 30,000kip! (This is only $3.50!) This price was so low, in fact, that it actually made me a bit nervous that I was being set up for something (as I have been getting quite used to having to bargain high prices down to lower more reasonable ones during the past 3 months) but nonetheless, we shook hands on it, and agreed- "9am tomorrow morning, at the pier! 30,000kip! See you then!'
Lies and I thought we were only going to set up books for the library and possibly meet 'Mr Bunchan' the man in charge of our volunteer efforts. As it turned out, we were being taken to a ''Committee Meeting". We were quite surprised when we pulled into a Lao stilted-house driveway, and underneath the house was a table and chairs, with 3 other men sitting quite formally (as formal as one can get in Laos) waiting for us, and then Mr. Kamsai took his seat, put on some reading glasses, and opened a notebook to take notes.
Introductions were made- we went around saying our names and shaking hands, writing out our names on pieces of paper for added clarity. Lies and I snuck a few quick glances at each other acknowledging our mutual surprise at the formality of this unexpected meeting. Everyone was very nice, but unexpected and formal nonetheless! We thought we were going to have a fun afternoon of setting up books and meeting Mr. Bunchan, and now we were seated at a table full of Lao men (with shy children looking on partially hidden from behind beams and stairwells. The man who I thought was the ''Meeting Director" I later learned was actually just the translator. It was funny only realizing this after the fact of the meeting, thinking that he was facilitating the decisions of the committee, when really he was only conveying their unified message. This was only the beginning of my/our confusion.
For two hours, we had a sort of question-answer session (from both sides), establishing how many hours we would teach the children at a time, where we would be teaching, how many students there might be and who are these students anyway? And how many and which days we would be teaching, as well as what subjects we might be covering. We were also trying to explain the concept of the 'library' of books, and trying to explain that we were supposed to set the books up at Mr. Bunchans house and trying to figure out when we were going to be able to do that part, but no one seemed to know what we were talking about, though the massive black suitcase of books was sitting next to us throughout the meeting, and we passed the books around for all to view.
Mind you, all of this was being translated to/between the Lao Committee members and Lies and I by 'The Translator' (I think it was 'Mr. Som Phong'), so what seemed like simple enough logistical dealings that could have taken 20-30 minutes if we all spoke the same language, became quite a confusing and often uncomfortable 2 plus hours meeting.
Mr. Bunchan was our original contact for this project, but he was away for a family health emergency, so, we were basically explaining everything about ourselves for the first time- where we were from, how long we would be there, if we were getting paid to do this, what our teaching experience was, etc.
Another thing that came as a surprise was that while Lies had had it in her mind that she/we would be teaching probably 5 days of the week, Monday-Friday, for perhaps 3-4 hours at a time, after much discussion during the meeting, the guys said we should just teach on Saturdays and Sundays (which, to my amusement, was always stated by the translator as 'on Sunday, and also on Saturday') because while the kids that we would be teaching were currently out of school for the summer, they would need to be helping their parents in the fields during the week, so it was weekends only, unless we could come during the week in the evening time.
Whenever new information came from the Lao committee to the translator, or an answer to a question came from Lies and I to the Lao group, there would be short periods of discussion in separate languages from both groups, and once all had finished conferring, we would come 'back to the table' sometimes aligned, and sometimes not, quicily realizing that we were all on totally different pages, and that much had been 'lost in translation'.
At one point, Lies and I asked ''If we came and taught in the evenings, what time were you thinking this should take place?" A lengthy conference went on in Lao, and when the translator turned to us to share what had been discussed, he said 'The committee has talked, and they have decided that you should stay in Ban Nakasan (at a particular guesthouse I can't remember the name of) so that it will be easier for you to teach during the evenings.'
So, instead of learning what hours they were thinking of for an evening class, or trying to figure out if that would even make sense, or which days we would do it on, we got into a lengthy conversation with them trying to explain that we were quite attached to staying at our Bungalow Guesthouse on Don Det, and that we were not interested in staying on the mainland in Ban Nakasan (where, people seemed quite unfriendly to us and tourists in general so far, not to mention if we taught in the evenings it would only be once or twice a week). Not only this, but the Lao guys continued to insist on this idea of us moving to Ban Nakasan two or even three times before they accepted our insistence on staying in Don Det. The 'conversation' about it was literally us repeating the same exact sentences to them, and them repeating their same exact sentences to us.
Anyhow, the meeting went on and on like this, much confusion and discussion for two and a half hours, through the translator, the committee, and us two foreigners. It was all very friendly and well-intentioned, but definitely quite uncomfortable much of the time due to the language barrier and all of the misunderstandings that came with it. Nonetheless, by the end of the meeting, we had decided that on Saturday, Mr. Kamsai and The Translator would pick us up from the pier at 10:30am to take us to the teaching site in Ban Tamouang to be there by 11am, so Lies and I could have 2 hours to look through the materials she had prepared in advance, and have a chance to discuss a lesson plan that we would teach together to the students. It was also our understanding that we would teach two different groups of students- one total beginner group from 1-2:30pm, and one group that already knew some English from 2:30-4pm, and then be taken back to the pier to take a boat back 'home' to Don Det by Mr. Kamsai and the Translator.
Our unexpected committee meeting was quite exciting and it felt like we accomplished a lot, but it was also quite draining, and we were relieved to get back on the boat to our cozy and relaxing bungalows back on Don Det. We sat on the 20 minute boat ride back to Don Det quite dazed, not really speaking much but occasionally smiling and laughing with what was a shared feeling of exhaustion as well as relief at a surprise meeting well navigated by us two- a mere pair of strangers only two days earlier! We had one day off between this meeting and our first day of teaching, and I had plans to go to Cambodia the next morning to leave and return to Laos to extend my visa. So much was happening in such a short period of time! And though I had no idea what to expect when I signed up to stay in Don Det to teach English to local kids with Lies, it was all exactly what I had been looking for, confusion and all. :)
Getting to the village where we would be teaching ''Ban-Tamouang" was quite the process, one that we managed to perfect after a few trips. Initially, we just rode two bicycles from our guesthouse to the main pier which took about 20 minutes, and assuming we could just hop on any boat to go to Ban Nakasang, we went. It turns out we actually had to wait around for quite a while for a boat, people telling us there was no boatman, and not being really clear on what the price would be, etc. After finally finding a boatman, and discovering the price (higher than the usual), we got going, but we were nearly a half an hour late for our pick up time with Mr. Kamsai!
Luckily, Mr. Kamsai is quite patient and good-natured, and was smiling when we got there, and also had a friend with him with another motorbike. So, Lies and I each got on the back of a motorbike, and off we went, to set up the library and see where we would be teaching over the next few weeks. While on the back of my motorbike, somehow in the first few minutes the driver (named Mr. Khan) found out that I needed to cross the Cambodian border in the next few days, and we made a plan in the first 5 minutes of this 20 minute motorbike ride that he would take me the next day on motorbike over the Cambodian border and back- for 30,000kip! (This is only $3.50!) This price was so low, in fact, that it actually made me a bit nervous that I was being set up for something (as I have been getting quite used to having to bargain high prices down to lower more reasonable ones during the past 3 months) but nonetheless, we shook hands on it, and agreed- "9am tomorrow morning, at the pier! 30,000kip! See you then!'
Lies and I thought we were only going to set up books for the library and possibly meet 'Mr Bunchan' the man in charge of our volunteer efforts. As it turned out, we were being taken to a ''Committee Meeting". We were quite surprised when we pulled into a Lao stilted-house driveway, and underneath the house was a table and chairs, with 3 other men sitting quite formally (as formal as one can get in Laos) waiting for us, and then Mr. Kamsai took his seat, put on some reading glasses, and opened a notebook to take notes.
Introductions were made- we went around saying our names and shaking hands, writing out our names on pieces of paper for added clarity. Lies and I snuck a few quick glances at each other acknowledging our mutual surprise at the formality of this unexpected meeting. Everyone was very nice, but unexpected and formal nonetheless! We thought we were going to have a fun afternoon of setting up books and meeting Mr. Bunchan, and now we were seated at a table full of Lao men (with shy children looking on partially hidden from behind beams and stairwells. The man who I thought was the ''Meeting Director" I later learned was actually just the translator. It was funny only realizing this after the fact of the meeting, thinking that he was facilitating the decisions of the committee, when really he was only conveying their unified message. This was only the beginning of my/our confusion.
For two hours, we had a sort of question-answer session (from both sides), establishing how many hours we would teach the children at a time, where we would be teaching, how many students there might be and who are these students anyway? And how many and which days we would be teaching, as well as what subjects we might be covering. We were also trying to explain the concept of the 'library' of books, and trying to explain that we were supposed to set the books up at Mr. Bunchans house and trying to figure out when we were going to be able to do that part, but no one seemed to know what we were talking about, though the massive black suitcase of books was sitting next to us throughout the meeting, and we passed the books around for all to view.
Mind you, all of this was being translated to/between the Lao Committee members and Lies and I by 'The Translator' (I think it was 'Mr. Som Phong'), so what seemed like simple enough logistical dealings that could have taken 20-30 minutes if we all spoke the same language, became quite a confusing and often uncomfortable 2 plus hours meeting.
Mr. Bunchan was our original contact for this project, but he was away for a family health emergency, so, we were basically explaining everything about ourselves for the first time- where we were from, how long we would be there, if we were getting paid to do this, what our teaching experience was, etc.
Another thing that came as a surprise was that while Lies had had it in her mind that she/we would be teaching probably 5 days of the week, Monday-Friday, for perhaps 3-4 hours at a time, after much discussion during the meeting, the guys said we should just teach on Saturdays and Sundays (which, to my amusement, was always stated by the translator as 'on Sunday, and also on Saturday') because while the kids that we would be teaching were currently out of school for the summer, they would need to be helping their parents in the fields during the week, so it was weekends only, unless we could come during the week in the evening time.
Whenever new information came from the Lao committee to the translator, or an answer to a question came from Lies and I to the Lao group, there would be short periods of discussion in separate languages from both groups, and once all had finished conferring, we would come 'back to the table' sometimes aligned, and sometimes not, quicily realizing that we were all on totally different pages, and that much had been 'lost in translation'.
At one point, Lies and I asked ''If we came and taught in the evenings, what time were you thinking this should take place?" A lengthy conference went on in Lao, and when the translator turned to us to share what had been discussed, he said 'The committee has talked, and they have decided that you should stay in Ban Nakasan (at a particular guesthouse I can't remember the name of) so that it will be easier for you to teach during the evenings.'
So, instead of learning what hours they were thinking of for an evening class, or trying to figure out if that would even make sense, or which days we would do it on, we got into a lengthy conversation with them trying to explain that we were quite attached to staying at our Bungalow Guesthouse on Don Det, and that we were not interested in staying on the mainland in Ban Nakasan (where, people seemed quite unfriendly to us and tourists in general so far, not to mention if we taught in the evenings it would only be once or twice a week). Not only this, but the Lao guys continued to insist on this idea of us moving to Ban Nakasan two or even three times before they accepted our insistence on staying in Don Det. The 'conversation' about it was literally us repeating the same exact sentences to them, and them repeating their same exact sentences to us.
Anyhow, the meeting went on and on like this, much confusion and discussion for two and a half hours, through the translator, the committee, and us two foreigners. It was all very friendly and well-intentioned, but definitely quite uncomfortable much of the time due to the language barrier and all of the misunderstandings that came with it. Nonetheless, by the end of the meeting, we had decided that on Saturday, Mr. Kamsai and The Translator would pick us up from the pier at 10:30am to take us to the teaching site in Ban Tamouang to be there by 11am, so Lies and I could have 2 hours to look through the materials she had prepared in advance, and have a chance to discuss a lesson plan that we would teach together to the students. It was also our understanding that we would teach two different groups of students- one total beginner group from 1-2:30pm, and one group that already knew some English from 2:30-4pm, and then be taken back to the pier to take a boat back 'home' to Don Det by Mr. Kamsai and the Translator.
Our unexpected committee meeting was quite exciting and it felt like we accomplished a lot, but it was also quite draining, and we were relieved to get back on the boat to our cozy and relaxing bungalows back on Don Det. We sat on the 20 minute boat ride back to Don Det quite dazed, not really speaking much but occasionally smiling and laughing with what was a shared feeling of exhaustion as well as relief at a surprise meeting well navigated by us two- a mere pair of strangers only two days earlier! We had one day off between this meeting and our first day of teaching, and I had plans to go to Cambodia the next morning to leave and return to Laos to extend my visa. So much was happening in such a short period of time! And though I had no idea what to expect when I signed up to stay in Don Det to teach English to local kids with Lies, it was all exactly what I had been looking for, confusion and all. :)
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