Taipei/Taiwan

View of Taipei from the roof of Kristen's building. Note the mountain -- that is Yangmingshan (I think).

I can think of no better way to see a new country than to visit a good friend who is living there. I was just so lucky in my visit to Taiwan, as my good pal Kristen Loring is there for the year doing research and working at the National Palace Museum. Kristen also is very good at reading and conversing in Chinese, which opens up a whole part of the city I would not have understood or ventured into otherwise. In fact, I am very much indebted to Kristen for all of her work and attention when I was visiting, from interpreting the menu and ordering every meal to buying train tickets and explaining to the taxi where we wanted to go. She is a fantastic tour guide and I hope to reciprocate sometime when we can visit Thailand or Laos together.

I left Los Angeles in quite a hurry, or so it felt even though I did know when I arrived at the end of July that I would be leaving for Asia again at the end of October. Many things contributed to my lack of preparation for coming back here, most particularly the pressure and stress resulting from my need to write and complete my dissertation within a year. Things have been quite intense, to say the least. So I pretty much packed everything the same day I left town, along with going to the Thai Consulate twice for my visa, and other random things. No problem, I thought, I only really needed some articles and books and things I was taking to others from the States. Everything else I could get in Thailand if I needed it. However, as I was on the plane, getting closer and closer to Taipei, I remembered more and more things I needed that totally slipped my mind in those last few days in LA, such as my phone charger, and perhaps more importantly, my keys to my apartment in Chiang Mai! Even worse, after I landed in Taipei and was beginning to find my way through the airport to passport control, I realized that I did not do many important things, such as: send Kristen a second email right before I left confirming my flight times and dates, write down Kristen’s address and phone number, or do even a single iota of research about the place where I was going. Absolutely crazy! Kristen is a very responsible and dependable person, but still, what if something happened and she didn’t show up at the airport? What on earth would I do?? Luckily I walked out of baggage claim and customs, and there she was. And she looked great! How exciting and what a good friend!

One of the things I was very excited about in visiting Taiwan was getting to eat the food. Taiwan is well known for the quality of its food, and I was not disappointed. Dumplings, tea eggs, steamed buns, tofu, noodle soup, grilled meat, sweet potatoes, fruit, tea… everything I ate was like a delicacy and very satisfying. I ate so much when I was in Taiwan! And enjoyed every bite.

I got to explore around Taipei with Kristen and we even got out of the city and went to a mountain and a town nearby. We had intended to go to the beach, but my timing in visiting was not so great; it rained or threatened of rain nearly every day that I was there. The mountain we visited, named Yangmingshan, was very nearby -- just a short bus ride away, it is practically in central Taipei. Kristen and I planned to hike to the top of Yangmingshan, but the weather was not very inviting. It was like hiking in a cloud. A wet, cold, windy cloud. Or perhaps it was more like climbing up and down steps in a cloud, for that is what the hike really was – many, many steps. It was very enjoyable, though, and I think Kristen and I made the most of it.

Another place we went was the town of Jiufen. This is an incredibly beautiful town nestled in the mountains near Taipei. Although the forecast predicted otherwise, Kristen and I had hoped to visit Jiufen, another town, and hang out on the beach all in one day, we only visited this one town, which turned out to be enough. We took the subway, a train, and a bus to get there, and when we arrived, we could see the ocean from the town. But when we left we could only see rain. Jiufen is a very touristy town, with a long, winding market and many tea shops on the side of a mountain. Of course “touristy” in Taiwan is very different than “touristy” in Southeast Asia – I don’t think Kristen and I saw any other non-Asians on that whole excursion!

After a week with Kristen it was time to move on to Thailand, where I have settled in nicely and where I cannot complain about the food either, even though I miss the delicacies of Taipei. I envy the location of Kristen’s apartment as well – about a half a block from a bustling food market serving any kind of delicacy one could need, and near many, many shops as well. I wish I could have spent more time on that island and know I can always go back, which I would love to do, but that it wouldn’t be the same without my Chinese-speaking friend and guide!

A final reflection on my time here in Thailand, Laos, etc.:

Cambodia

Oh, Cambodia! What can I say? I finally made it there after all these years of coming to Southeast Asia and only visiting Thailand and Laos. I had originally planned to go to Cambodia at the very end of May, but ended up rescheduling because of a festival in Nong Bua that I didn’t want to miss. I knew I would be disappointed if I didn’t travel to Cambodia before returning to the States. And I am glad I made that choice.

I began my Cambodian vacation in Siem Reap, the town that serves as the launching off spot for the Ankgor temples and ruins. Angkor/Siem Reap is one of the hottest tourist spots in Southeast Asia, and it shows. The central part of town is booming with fancy buildings/bars/restaurants and there seem to be hotels going up all over the place. Siem Reap is a nice town and I wish I had had more time to spend exploring it.

I got into the Siem Reap airport around 4:30 in the afternoon, so I didn’t see much my first day. I just walked around to try to get myself orientated, then ate dinner and pretty much went back to my room, watched some TV (a luxury!), and went to sleep. I didn’t feel the culture shock that I did when I went to China earlier this year, probably because Cambodia shares so much with Thailand and Laos, not to mention the fact that so many Cambodians in the touristy areas speak English pretty darn well. I can say it was difficult to speak only English. Typically here in Thailand or in Laos, even if I speak English with someone I will use Thai words, or if I am practicing English with a Thai or Lao I can rely on my knowledge of Thai to help explain what something means. No such luck in Cambodia, and thus I found myself longing to speak Thai. Strange. I had made plans with my driver to meet at 8 am the next morning to begin exploring Angkor. By “driver” I mean motorcycle driver, and this is not an uncommon thing to have in Cambodia, especially Siem Reap. It is a convenient way of seeing as many sights as a person could want, especially those further away, and for me it was nice not to do everything totally on my own as I am used to doing (it does get lonely). Also, there is no motorcycle rental in Siem Reap, so to get around tourists have to either go by foot, bicycle, or hire someone. I hired Hout, who had been my motorcycle driver from the airport. He was 24 years old, and had already been driving tourists around for 5 years, and his English was very, very good. Another nice thing about having a “driver” is that I didn’t have to think too hard about where I wanted to go and I definitely didn’t have to think about how to get there. The only complaint I have is that I know Hout overcharged me, and I could not bargain him down, no matter how hard I tried. But he knew I liked him as a driver, since I hired him for basically all of the time I was there. I had originally planned to hire him for 2 days, then rent a bicycle on my third day to go back and see some of the more popular Angkor sites a second time (such as Angkor Thom and Angkor Wat), but I didn’t, and I am glad. It was very, very hot in Cambodia (hot and humid; the sun was quite intense), and I was pretty worn out anyway, so I think it is better that I didn’t do the bicycle thing. I even got to go have dinner and a drink with my driver at his friend’s house. That was great for me, because it was just getting to go into a Cambodian home and eating with them, sharing a little tiny part of their life. It’s my favorite thing to do, and I jumped at the opportunity. Cambodian houses are very small (obviously a generalization, but overall a very true statement), and many people live inside. Remember that most Cambodians are very poor, like the Lao, and make do with what little they have. The food was delicious and the hosts very hospitable, but I wasn’t very hungry as I had eaten a heavy lunch of Indian food.

I intended to keep an ongoing list of all of the temples and sites that I saw when I was in Siem Reap/Angkor, but it got so overwhelming so quickly that I didn’t. All I know is that I saw a lot, the majority of the greater Angkor area. I have to admit, I was nervous when I got to Siem Reap, and when I started out on my first day. What was it going to be like? Would it live up to the hype, to the expectations?? I knew there would be a lot of tourists, but how many? As an aspiring art historian, I was particularly anxious. Angkor is supposed to be one of the most incredible sights in the world, it’s in the part of the world I study, but what if I didn’t feel the enthusiasm I was supposed to feel? What if I just plain wasn’t impressed? Basically, I was worried it would not live up to all of the hype. Because there is a lot of hype. I needn’t have worried. Angkor was awesome. From the second I walked up to the Bayon (the first temple I visited at Angkor), I knew I wasn’t going to be disappointed, and would be very, very pleased. In fact, as I stared in awe at the stone reliefs covering the walls, I contemplated changing my research focus. OK, that isn’t exactly true, but for the first time I could truly and totally understand why/how people could dedicate their lives to studying that kind of thing. And to think that these things were made 700-1000 years ago!!! Unbelievable!

As I write this, I am not sure how to describe being at Angkor. Most likely this is because too much time has passed since I have been there, but it could be due to any number of reasons. All I can say is that there was never a lack of interesting and beautiful things to look at and marvel over, and that true to their reputation the Cambodian people were just lovely. There was a large number of tourists at Angkor every day, but apparently nothing at all compared to high season, and according to my driver there were less than the normal amount for this time of year – I had excellent timing since I traveled during the World Cup when tourist numbers go way down (something to note for those of you planning on traveling abroad in 4 years). The majority of tourists that I saw (by far) were East Asian (that is to say Chinese, Korean, or Japanese), most specifically Korean. It was crazy at some times when my path overlapped with theirs as I ventured though the temples. Crazy because there were just so many people! But overall, the crowds didn’t bother me, as they really only stuck to the main sites around Angkoe, so it was easy to get away or avoid them. And I couldn’t complain much anyway – I love it when people (tourists) are at a place where they can only learn, about history, art, whatever. That is definitely a good thing.
During my days in Siem Reap, I wore myself out. I climbed around so many of the temples, etc., in the hot sun that each evening it was an accomplishment for me just to eat dinner, check my email, and get back to my room. I know I saw so many temples, palaces, whatever, and I was overwhelmed by what I saw. I tried to not go overboard taking photographs since so much of the area is already represented generously in books, but I still ended up taking 800 photos when I was in Cambodia! That just seems ridiculous to me!

After 4 days/5 nights in Siem Reap (not including the 1st day), I traveled to Phnom Penh. I had bought my bus ticket the day before and when I woke up that morning I really regretted that decision, wanting to spend one last day just exploring around Siem Reap. I had gone to a nearby wat the day before and got to talk to a few of the monks who were excited to practice their English (which was very good). I didn’t have enough time to do things like that, but I figure next time I go, I can spend more time exploring the town and the wats. I spent 4 nights in Phnom Penh, which is quite a big and bustling city! It was slightly overwhelming at first, and I still don’t feel like I saw too much of it, but I think that’s OK. I had picked out what looked like it would be a nice area to stay from reading my guidebook on the bus, but when the bus pulled into Phnom Penh, it was swarmed with people trying to get the farang to go to their guesthouse, take their motorcycle, whatever. Too much!, and although I typically ignore these people when I travel, this time I thought whatever, just take me to your cheap guesthouse in the backpacker ghetto. So I ended up staying in a different area than I had anticipated, but it worked out well since I only had to pay $3 a night for a clean room with its own bathroom. Once I heard $3, what could I do?
I traveled to the National Museum (which is just fantastic), the palace, riverfront, Wat Phnom, Tuol Sleng, the killing fields, and some markets while I was in Phnom Penh. I had contemplated whether or not to go to Tuol Sleng (the former school where the Khmer Rouge tortured and killed tens of thousands of people) and the killing fields for many reasons – what if it was too overwhelming/overpowering for me? Then afterwards I would have no one to talk to about it (traveling alone) and might have a hard time adjusting. I also could rationalize that since I have studied so much about recent history in Cambodia and Southeast Asia in general that I was already far more well informed than the average tourist and thus didn’t need to see everything to know what happened there. But I realized that I had an obligation to the Cambodian people to see these things. I mean the genocide and civil war are as much a part of Cambodian culture as the temples and things I ran to see in Siem Reap. And I am glad I went. Although I didn’t really learn anything new, I was able to see all of these things firsthand, and I spent a lot of time contemplating what one earth makes a society devour itself as happened in Cambodia. What makes people resort to such horrible acts, and how can others just stand idly by and watch it happen? (By others I am not merely referring to people, but other countries who knew what was going on but did not want to get involved because of the tangled political mess that was Asia in the seventies.

I can say that my trip to Cambodia was rewarding and relatively pain-free. What I mean to say is that I enjoyed myself and didn’t have to experience any broken-down buses. I do feel like I could have done so much more or learned so much more, but then I realize it was my first trip to the country, and I was only there for 9 days. Perhaps on my next trip I can delve further into Khmer culture and religion/art/textiles…

Chiang Tung (Kengtung), Burma (Myanmar)

Chiang Tung is a town in the Eastern Shan States of Burma. I have wanted to travel there for a while now. I almost went there in January, but didn’t have enough time, and so decided to wait until I could go there with my friend and former roommate Julia. It is in the same general area as Sipsongpanna in China, northwestern of Laos, and northern Thailand. Chiang Tung and the surrounding area has a common history and cultural background as well. So, when June 10th finally rolled around (the date Julia and I had decided would be the beginning of our adventure), I was thrilled. Travel to Chiang Tung from Chiang Mai involves taking a 4.5 hour bus ride from Chiang Mai to Mae Sai (Thai border town), crossing the border to Burma, then taking some form of transportation an additional 160 km from Tachilek (the Burmese border town on the other side of Mae Sai) to Chiang Tung. Because Burma is run by a paranoid, authoritarian government (or is it totalitarian?? I don’t know anything about words to describe governments, but I do know that the government in Burma is absolutely no good), travel in the country is quite restricted. Julia and I were crossing just to go to Chiang Tung, so we did not need to have visa before crossing. However, we both completely forgot to bring our 3 passport photos, so what could have possibly been a much smoother crossing turned into us following the guy from the immigration office all over town to get our photographs taken. OK, it wasn’t all over town, but it felt crazy and chaotic to me, and it was HOT. After everything was settled and we paid all the necessary fees (and handed over our passports, to be kept at the border as we explored Chiang Tung), we arranged with the immigration guy to take the “air-conditioned” bus, rumored to take only 4 hours. It seemed like a decent option, as the only other one presented to us was a private taxi that would have cost us at least 100 Baht more (OK, 100 baht is only $2.50, but it seems like an enormous sum when traveling, especially when you are used to things being fairly cheap and you are aware that you are being ripped off compared to the price for locals). We were rather hungry after all of the traveling and border crossing, but we did not get to grab anything to eat, as we had to rush to the bus station to be sure to catch the bus. The immigration guy had told us there would be all kinds of food at the bus station, and that we could eat there, but he was totally wrong. No food stands at all. But we got our seats on the completely full bus (Asian style – in other words people were sitting in the aisles as well), and we were off.

It was very exciting to be in a bus, traveling in a completely new area, even though it was a very long day of travel. With all of the traveling I have done in the past year, I was used to it, as traveling in a bus has become somewhat of second nature to me (it doesn’t mean I have gotten over my total phobia of them, however). Julia was coping with it fairly well, although she is much happier when she is able to drive herself. We seemed to be moving along at a decent pace, and looked to be on schedule. In fact, we were getting quite close to Chiang Tung from our calculations, when suddenly the bus pulls over on the side of the road. All I could think is “you have to be kidding me…” I really wanted to be in denial that the bus was broken down, especially after my last broken-down bus experience (see Lao blog, below), but it was pretty obvious that there was a problem. I got off the bus to see people wildly running towards the engine (at the back of the bus) and throwing bottles full of water on it. It just seemed totally chaotic and crazy, especially the urgency with which they were trying to throw the water onto the engine. It seemed clear to me that the engine had overheated, which wasn’t entirely surprising given the age of the bus and the hills we had been climbing. But the throwing of the water seemed totally insane, plus I had no idea if there were any other problems. All we could do was wait and see. It didn’t seem good, but I tried to stay optimistic. After a short period of time, people started walking up the road. We knew by this point that we were 25 km from Chiang Tung, but it didn’t seem possible that people actually were going to walk the rest of the way. We found out they were walking towards a “market” in a “town” just at the top of the hill. Julia and I decided that it might be a good idea to walk there as well, so we grabbed our stuff and away we walked.

The “town” and the “market” turned out to not be much, but it resembled so many roadside villages I have passed through in all of my travels in Laos. We were able to get some water, and concluded, after discussions with fellow bus passengers, that the bus repair was going to take a long time and the sun was setting fast. We decided to try to hire a tuk-tuk-type vehicle to take us the rest of the 25 km to Chiang Tung. After much discussion and haggling with the help of a fellow passenger (who turned out to be Akha) who spoke both Burmese and English. We were in the tuk-tuk heading back to the bus to pick up our bizarre makeshift “passports” when we saw it heading towards us. Yes, it was actually running and moving, but with a black cloud coming out of its tailpipe. So, we turned around and met it back in the “town.” We paid the tuk-tuk driver a small sum for his troubles, got on the bus, and eventually we arrived in Chiang Tung.


It was a little after dusk when we arrived, but everyone was very helpful in getting us to the “Noi Yee Hotel” we had picked out from our guidebook. The guy who ran the hotel was, to say the least, very eccentric. In fact, it was easy to conclude after the few days I spent in Chiang Tung, that the town is a breeding ground for eccentricity. It is a rather isolated place; although it is near China, only a half-day’s drive from Thailand, and there are small towns/villages in the nearby area, the nearest city in Burma is like 400 kilometers away! Anyway, Julia and I decided that we really liked our hotel. It had a fabulous central location, a nice view, and all the necessities (beds and a bathroom, and even a veranda! -- which you can see Julia sitting on in the photo).

Chiang Tung is a beautiful city! There are stunning wats (Buddhist temples) on every corner (this could be a slight exaggeration, but that’s how it feels), a lake in the center, hills and mountains, and friendly people everywhere. The town also has a fabulous and huge morning market that I did not heave enough time to explore to my satisfaction. I did get to see the whole market, but it was so full and so beautiful that I could have spent many more hours there. I also got to visit many of the wats in the town, and they were just stunning. The Buddha images were gorgeous and quite numerous. And what was perhaps the most amazing thing about the city was how peaceful it was. Very mellow, with very little traffic. Of course the lack of traffic was welcomed by me, but I do understand that it is a reflection of how poor the community (and country in general) is. As can be seen in neighboring Thailand and Laos, as communities get more money, the people purchase motorcycles and, for the wealthy, even cars/trucks, and streets become increasingly clogged. Another nice thing about Chiang Tung is that because the people and the history are closely connected with northern Thailand, we could speak Thai and not only be understood, but understand others and have conversations.


Julia and I found a restaurant that we were quite find of and thus visited every day we were in town (to be frank, there weren’t many, especially ones that could prepare a truly vegetarian meal). On our second night we befriended a Thai guy named Chai traveling alone (which we found quite surprising). It turned out that Chai had just finished being a monk at a wat in northwest Thailand. I didn’t hear the part of the conversation when he explained why he was visiting Chiang Tung, but I think he was in Mae Sai (the Thai border town) and decided to come see what this town was like. I have to say, Chai spoke very quickly, so Julia and I both spent time puzzled at what he was saying, but he was very nice. In fact, the next day, when Julia and I decided to explore the area separately, I ran into Chai after I unknowingly passed the morning market, which had been my destination. We ended up walking around all over the town for hours, which was really enjoyable. I had stated that my intention was to visit as many wats as possible, so in the process of wandering that morning we visited at least 4 or 5 wats. I always enjoy looking for banners, but I also enjoy visiting the wats for many reasons, including looking at the many things that exist at a wat, and comparing it (in my head) to the many other places I have visited in this region. The wats in Chiang Tung did not disappoint, especially Wat In which had an unbelievable collection of Buddha images. I definitely could have spent hours just staring at those Buddha images, but I didn’t have the time. It’s OK; I got a lot of nice pictures, and I suspect I will visit Chiang Tung again. Wandering around that day was very hot and the sun was surprisingly intense. Although I slathered my neck and face with sun block, I got quite burnt. I could definitely feel it the next day, but luckily I didn’t have to carry my bags very far.

The next day was our return back to Thailand. This journey to Chiang Tung was a short trip compared to most of the ones I have taken this year, but it was wonderful, rewarding, and quite relaxing. The trip back from Chiang Tung to the border was far less eventful than the ride there. We opted for a shared taxi this time. As our friend Chai had (wisely?) taken a shared taxi to get to Chiang Tung, he had already set his ride with the same driver he rode up with. After a bit of finagling (on Julia’s part – she’s very good at it), we got to ride in the same taxi, which was scheduled to leave at like 7:30 or so in the morning. Once the driver finally arrived, we hopped in, and it was an absolute riot. The guy was a total eccentric, and it felt like it took forever for us to really get going on the road. He would get really excited and talk with us, not looking at the road at all, and at one point, we stopped to wash the car – in fact we stopped to wash the car in the same “town” where Julia and I had been stuck just a few days earlier on our way into town (that's him in the photo, washing the car while we were waiting in it). It figured. But we made it, and even survived the bus ride all the way back to Chiang Mai (easier said than done – Julia was going absolutely stir crazy by the time we got to the Chiang Mai vicinity. By my calculations we arrived just on time, or maybe about 10 minutes late, but the bus attendant person had told Julia we would get into Chiang Mai by 6:30, a whole 45 minutes off).

Another Nearly Futile Lao Adventure:

I began writing this blog from my guesthouse room on 10 April 2006 after an exhausting, though not entirely productive, two weeks in northern Laos. The problem is that I never finished the blog as I became either too busy or too lazy (or a little of both) to muster up the energy to complete and post it – until now, of course, knowing that it has been too long since I have posted anything…

As some of you may or may not know, I have been feeling a bit under the weather lately, and in more ways than one. I am back in Laos for the Lao New Year (which, in classic Lao style, can’t really be nailed to down to a specific set of days. While the 14-16th are designated as official holidays here, most people tell me the New Year starts on the 12th, while others have told me the 15th!!) The Lao New Year should basically fall on the same days as the Thai New Year, but I made the decision to come to Laos over Thailand based on my absolute adoration of this country and people. However, after having to leave Ban Nong Bua, I have not entirely been the same, and have longed to go back to first place that has felt like “home” to me in many months. Let me clarify: while I do truly think of Chiang Mai as “home” at the moment, I have not spent much time there lately. Plus, while I do have a friend or two in Chiang Mai, I am largely alone in the days that I spend there, and I am alone while traveling. However, when I was in Nong Bua, I never felt alone. So many people looked after me and wanted to make sure all was well that loneliness was not an issue and I felt as if the town was both my family and friends. When I think of Nong Bua, I just think that I am a very lucky person. But this posting is not supposed to be about Nong Bua! Oh yeah! See, it is very clear how much I miss that place, and appreciate the people. OK, so it is difficult to go from that kind of environment to one of being a lonely, single traveler. To go from being part of a community to being just another falang to stare at, and then of course any actual conversation with an actual Lao (or Thai) person is a reminder of one’s status as single traveler.

Anyway, on top of dealing with these factors (oh yeah, I am supposed to be doing research??) I have been a bit sick as well. I got to Laos, and in fact all was going pretty well, and I was finding ways to spend time until the New Year. But suddenly I found that the weather was surprising cold in Luang Nam Tha, and before I knew it, I was sick! I was in Muang Sing, a town where I spent many days back in November, and I was entirely uninspired to do anything. It took a day or two to make the connection between my physical health and my mental health, but once I realized it, it dawned on me why I was so uninspired to even try to go visit any of the local wats (imagine – me, not wanting to go to any wats!). So, for a few days I completely took it easy, and did not even begin to try to push myself to get any research done. To top it off, as I recovered from my cold, my stomach did not feel all that great, causing me to want to spend each morning in my room and leaving me very not hungry and not wanting to eat anything. Who knows what I ate that left my stomach so unhappy, it could have been anything, although I think it was probably some bad water (perhaps tap water being sold as bottled water, who can know).

But instead of going on and on about these sordid details, let’s just say that in my desperation to find some inspiration, I decided to leave Luang Nam Tha and go to Oudomxai, a town not particularly known to be enjoyable, but I had never been there and thought I could try to check out some of the local wats.

I was feeling a bit lazy, I have to admit, and therefore I did not push myself to get to the bus station very early in the morning on the day I had planned to go to Oudomxai. I got up, packed, ate breakfast, and planned to catch the 12:00 bus. I left my guesthouse at around 9:45-10, and here is the problem – thinking that I didn’t want to spend hours waiting at the bus station, I stopped to get a cup of coffee. This actually did take longer than I expected it to, but it was as much my own fault as anything. I got to the bus station no later than 11 am, but the 12:00 bus to Oudomxai was already crammed full of people (special note to those readers who have not traveled on these buses: crammed full means literally no one can move around because people are sitting on makeshift seats in the aisles, standing in the doorway, etc.). It was definitely packed full, but I went up and checked with the ticket guy. I had to wait for the 2:30 bus. So much for getting there early enough and so much for not having to wait for hours at the bus station! I was hoping that maybe, just maybe the bus would fill up and leave early, but it did not happen. I think we would have left maybe 15-30 minutes early – the bus was full with everyone and we were ready to go, but we were waiting anyway until finally, we were off…

So, after we left the bus station, we picked someone up at their house, then headed toward the main road. All seemed well, but in retrospect the bus did appear to be moving a little slow. However, a slow moving bus is far from an oddity in Laos, where the pace of life is entirely different from our own and (believe it or not) not everyone is in a rush to get where they are going; in fact moving from place to place in a slow bus trying to make its way up a large hill or along an unpaved road is completely normal to Lao, although it might not be for too much longer. The buses in Laos are all second- or third- hand buses from Korea, China, perhaps Vietnam, so just making it to the next destination is all a travelers can really ask. Thus, the slow bus did not seem odd to me until we made it to the main road, about 20-30 minutes away from Luang Nam Tha, and we pulled over due to some kind of problem. I was not entirely happy about this, as I had gotten off to such a slow start this day and was hours behind schedule. But I was optimistic it wouldn’t be too long. After talking to the Canadian guy and a Lao guy from Vientiane who wanted to practice his English a little bit (perhaps about 20 minutes), we were back on the bus and moving along. But the pace was noticeably slow and after a short span of time, we pulled over once again, much to my chagrin. Bus definitely broken. Everyone filed off the bus, and reality soon sunk in that I would not be getting to Oudomxai before dark. I had wanted to get some exploring in the main town that same day, so I could get orientated and explore the surrounding area the next day, but it clearly wasn’t going to happen like that. The bus driver had once again crawled under the bus, looking at the engine, or whatever part of it was that was broken.

Soon, a bus pulled up that was heading in the opposite direction, and the driver and assistant got out to help our guys. A couple of them were underneath the bus, clearly discussing the situation. I was really hoping at this point that we could all just get on the bus heading back to Luang Nam Tha, and was about to inquire about doing just that when the next thing I knew, our driver had actually gotten on the other bus and it was driving away! It didn’t really dawn on me until the bus had gone around the curve and was out of sight. I just couldn’t believe it! Apparently it had been decided that either the engine had to be fixed with a new part, or we would have to take a new bus. The driver had gone back to Luang Nam Tha to figure it out. At that point we were pretty much stranded and there was no way of knowing how long it would take for him to return. The only thing I knew is that it was Laos, and thus the chance of there being a “spare” bus for our driver to borrow was close to zero. And there was nothing to do. I sat there and talked to the Canadian guy a little bit, and talked to the English-speaking Lao guy a little bit, and eventually got my i-Pod out and sat and listened to it. Everyone was thirsty and hungry, but no one showed exasperation, as that just isn’t the Lao way to handle things. I did bitch off and on to the Canadian guy, just because I was unusually frustrated and was missing Thailand. I had been in Laos for over a week, but for some reason I had not totally adjusted to being there (again unusual for me, since I wear my love of Laos on my sleeve at nearly all times). I knew if it had been Thailand, people would have been on their cell phones calling and trying to figure out how to get out of the problem. In Thailand, another bus would probably have been sent to come help us, or at least a songthaew (pickup truck with two rows of seating in back), or something. But it wasn’t Thailand, it was Laos. And the sun was setting.

(Photo, left, of view from road where we were stranded. Note the horrific deforestation, a result of the Chinese coming in and paying off Lao officials for the clearing of trees. This particular spot will soon be a Chinese-owned rubber tree plantation. It is tragic indeed to see the absolutely beautiful forests of northern Laos disappear each day at the hands of the Chinese, taking advantage of the Lao officials who are corrupt and in a very poor country whose citizens can do nothing to stop it.)

As dusk was settling around us, our driver came back on the back of someone’s motorcycle. He and the motorcycle driver set to work right away underneath the bus. They had brought some sort of replacement part with them, so they removed the old one and began to put the “new” one in its place (I must emphasize the quotation marks around “new” for those of you sitting at home, because I am positive that although the piece was new to the bus, it was definitely not unused. Again, this would emphasize not only the difference between rich countries such as the States and poor places like Laos, where people are incredibly resourceful). Basically, after a short time, the sun set and it was dark. We were still on the side of the road waiting. It was evident that they were working hard on the engine, but it was also clear that it would take a long time. The driver and the other man had a flashlight to enable them to see what they were doing. And that is it. No other source of light. I was slightly nervous at the thought that they were fixing the bus under those circumstances, but I was more anxious to just get on the way and get to Oudomxai.

Everyone was clearly getting hungry, as was I. It is ridiculous in retrospect – I always travel with food and plenty of water, especially in Laos, but for whatever reason, I had gotten on this bus with relatively little. As the sun disappeared, a group of guys from the bus gathered brush and started a fire. People gathered around, and it was clear they were cooking something. It turned out to be bamboo shoots, which are utterly delicious. They shared the bamboo with everyone, but there wasn’t much to go around. A woman from the bus came over and handed me an orange also, which was very kind of her. I felt so bad for not having anything to offer them. After that I completely zoned out from everyone and everything, and before I knew it, the bus was ready to go! I couldn’t believe it, but I wasn’t going to argue. I don’t remember what time it was when we were finally able to get back on the bus and get going, but judging from the fact that we got into Oudomxai at about 1 am, I am guessing we get back on the road at around 10 pm, and I know that we were on the side of the road for around six hours. Unbelievable, but a good lesson to me. I had been so focused on such petty things, feeling sorry for myself for who knows what reason at all, and I had forgotten to appreciate everything for what it was. That might sound slightly ridiculous, but I remember thinking about it at the time. I can’t really expand further on that notion or my thoughts about the lessons learned from that bus trip. But I can say that we did get into Oudomxai at around 1 am, and I had been quite worried that I would have to spend the night at the bus station with no sleep. Luckily, I was wrong, and I was able to stay at a clean, decent guesthouse right across the street from the bus station (with the help of the tuk-tuk drivers who knew our bus hadn’t come in yet and were waiting for it. They said to just go knock, and lo and behold, a teenager was sleeping near the door, probably exactly because of events like this. I felt terrible waking him up, but business is business after all).
I stayed in Oudomxai for only 2 nights because I did not want to stray from my schedule and miss anything important with the upcoming Songkran/Lao New Year festivities. So, needless to say, I did not get to explore as much as I had wished. Rather than get into any further details about Oudomxai or Lao New Year, I can just say that the trip back to Luang Nam Tha was far less eventful and, in fact, pretty normal (northern Lao standards only). That is, until we got to the turn off for Luang Nam Tha and the road was closed for road construction (road construction is a very common thing around Luang Nam Tha these days, as the Chinese and the Thai are improving the route connecting southern China with Thailand with little regard for its effects on the Lao population). Our driver was clearly not sure what to do, so he decided to take a turn-off further down the road that was a little fishy to me, with my small knowledge of the Luang Nam Tha area, and clearly many of the passengers thought it was a terrible idea as they “yelled” at him to not continue down the road. He continued anyway, and before too long, we found ourselves facing a very, very rickety old one-lane wooden bridge across the Nam Tha river. Not a good idea from anyone’s perspective. The driver stopped, stared at the bridge a bit, and even got out and walked onto the bridge before deciding it would be OK to cross. I was about to initiate the idea that all the passengers get off the bus and meet it on the other side, but before I knew it the driver was gunning it. I held my breath and the German guy sitting next to me turned white and closed his eyes. I can say it was quite frightening, but we did make it. I have included a photograph of the bridge that I took the next day, but it hardly captures it. And by the next day when I took this photo, new boards had been added to the bridge where there had been either gaping holes or rotting boards the day before.

Oh, traveling in Laos. Expect the unexpected. But regardless of the tediousness and often downright pain of the travel, know that you will be rewarded every time, because Laos is truly a wonderful place.

Nan Province: March 2006

I was very excited to return to Nan after my success there on the previous trip, but true to my personality, I was also a bit nervous. What if I actually misunderstood people’s receptivity to me there? What if they aren’t excited to see me?? What if I am actually not happy to back there and discover I don’t like it? What if 2 weeks is too long to spend in Nan? What if, what if, what if…? So silly that I think that way, but it is who I am – definitely. However, I got off the bus, and it felt great. I was very happy and returned directly to the guesthouse I always stay at when I am in town, the Nan Guesthouse (aptly named, I would have to say), got a room, and went to the museum. Nan has a wonderful museum, especially for a fairly small, out of the way (but important!) area and last time I had been in town, I didn’t take my notebook to the museum, and I needed to take some notes.

My first few days in Nan, I didn’t get a whole heck of a lot done, but I did call my monk friend (Phra Kongsin) to let him know I was back, and made a plan to go to Ban Nong Bua a couple of days after I talked to him. When I got to Ban Nong Bua, Phra Kongsin was still at the school where he teaches (as he had told me he would be), and Mae Bua Jan (one of the weavers) was sitting at the wat waiting for me. I was whisked off to the house of Mae Lamai, who was having a feast for lunch for some kind of celebration, I think a wedding. Many people were there, and in true Thai and Tai Lue fashion, there was an abundance of food. And what was the food?, you may ask. Well, here is where my true adventures begin, for as many of you already know, I ended up staying in Nong Bua for 10 days, and nearly each day was full of suspense of what the heck kind of food I would be eating that day. Don’t get me wrong, the food (or at least the majority of it) was utterly delicious, just very different from my sense of normal. But I am very proud of myself, because I really did make a point to eat and try everything they served me, something which is usually very difficult for me. I just how important it was to be polite and appreciative, how important food is to the culture, etc. And, in fact, I am very aware of how much they did appreciate my eating, because often when I met a new person in the village, my eating habits were discussed. I am just glad I am not a vegetarian, because I suspect this is really not a concept familiar to the Tai Lue people who love eating meat. But I digress. The food they were eating was mostly this raw meat “laab” (often written in English as “larb” which is a bit funny and a bit ridiculous, but let’s not get into that) and sticky rice. Yes, that is correct, I did say “raw meat” and by meat I mean from a water buffalo, and by “laab” I mean a kind of minced meat (with all parts of the darn buffalo) spicy dish. In fact, they did cook a very small portion of the laab, mostly for me, but one man really wanted to sure I tried the raw dish, so what could I do? I told him I had tried it already, but he didn’t exactly fall for that one, so I ate it while he watched, and damn was it pretty disgusting. They put some kind of ultra-bitter/super-sour sauce on the laab, and that really was about all I could taste, but I felt like I was hardly going to survive. Of course, I did survive, and went on to try many other things over the course of the next two weeks. That same day I also was encouraged to try this rolled-leaf-kind-of thing that reminded me a bit of the rolled grape leaves we associate with Greek food. It was kind of an after-lunch kind of thing, and I popped one into my mouth, unsure of what to expect, and it was equally as bitter as the raw meat dish, which they all knew and kind of looked at me and said “priaw?” (which translates as “sour?”) I couldn’t exactly hide that one, so I had to agree, and still had to chew up and finish the whole thing. Ugh.

After the lunch, I was able to meet with Phra Kongsin, who was so helpful and just a joy to talk to. We talked mostly about banners, although we also just chatted a bit. I realized that the sun was getting low in the sky, so I had to leave and head back to my guesthouse in the main city. We discussed briefly the possibility of my coming to stay in the village, with his parents, but I had no idea when or if it would happen. Well, two days later, I got a phone call from Phra Kongsin telling me that it was all set up and that I should come stay in Ban Nong Bua soon – over the coming weekend if possible. I tried to set it up for Sunday, but he decided for me that Saturday was better, so I was off the next day.

When I got to Ban Nong Bua the next day, I was taken to Phra Kongsin’s parents’ house. His dad wasn’t there, but his mom had skipped out on her evening aerobics to meet me. She is very sweet. His mom is basically a farmer who works in the fields every day, which is not an easy life by any stretch of the imagination. I was so thrilled they opened their house to me, but she would never let me help with anything, which made me feel a little bad. I tried to be as pleasant as possible, although for the first day or two, I had little clue what was going on. Both of Phra Kongsin’s parents speak Tai Lue, which is similar to northern Thai, both languages of which I understand only the faintest bit. In fact, the whole village speaks mostly Tai Lue or northern Thai, so I often just had to guess what was going on around me, although by the end of my 10 days, I was getting better (I think).

My stay in Ban Nong Bua was full of Buddhist ceremonies, weaving, chatting with Phra Kongsin, and teaching English to the local kids. And, of course, eating the local foods. My days pretty much revolved around the wat, as I would get up in the morning and eventually go over and sit with Mae Lamai and Mae Bua Jan, the two weavers who were my original two friends in the village, until I had to go teach English. When I originally agreed to go live in Nong Bua, I had told Phra Kongsin that I would teach English to the local kids, who were on vacation from school. Not only did I have no experience teaching English, I had no idea what to teach, so I was really not expecting to have to do it. Silly me – of course if I agree to something here in Thailand, especially if I say it to a monk, I will have to actually do it. So, for probably 7 of the 10 days I was in Ban Nong Bua I taught English in the morning at the wat. In fact, in the morning of the second day I was in the village, I heard the head of the village over the loudspeakers making his weekly announcement. And although I couldn’t understand really anything that he was saying, I was very aware all of a sudden that he was talking about me, mentioning that I was staying in Nong Bua and that I would be teaching English starting that day. Imagine my surprise! After a couple of rough days of not really knowing what I was teaching, I settled in and I think the kids got a total kick out of me. Really, I was just surprised at how good their English already was. They learn English in school in Thailand, but I was still surprised at how much the kids knew. They were a lot of fun, and I was actually very sad on the last day I taught them. At the end of each class, I always gave them the choice of coming back the next day or not, and they always wanted to. One day they even came over to me in the afternoon and invited me to come listen to them practice their traditional northern Thai instruments (don tree), which was very fun.

There are no restaurants, or places to go out and eat in Ban Nong Bua, so I was pretty much at the mercy of the people in the village to feed me. In fact the food was overwhelmingly delicious, but there were times when I really was reluctant to eat the things put in front of me. I tried my best to at least taste each and every dish, as I alluded to in a previous paragraph, and I know it was greatly appreciated. As I met people around the village, they would ask the person I was walking with (usually Mae Lamai, one of the weavers) about my eating habits. She would always tell them that I ate everything, and they always seemed impressed. However, by the end of my stay, I was getting a little burned out on eating strange things, and found that by after I left Ban Nong Bua I actually developed my first real cravings for food from home – cravings that have stayed with me to this day. So, what were the things I ate in Ban Nong Bua, you may ask. Much of it was typical northern Thai food, called “nam prik” and usually pasty combinations of spices, herbs, meats (esp. fish) perfectly eaten with sticky rice. However, the more interesting dishes make for a better story, so here is a short list of some of the things I ate in Nong Bua: raw buffalo meat laab (already mentioned), raw fish laab, ant egg soup (which has the ant eggs or larvae, or whatever, in it, but also actual ants because I can imagine it is pretty difficult to harvest the ant eggs without getting the ants as well, and separating them must be incredibly difficult), fried crickets, and my absolute least favorite, the “salad” of random pig innards (such as intestines, stomach, frankly I don’t know exactly, nor do I want to know).

The hospitality I was shown by the people in Ban Nong Bua was incredible. On many days, I would get up at 5:30 in the morning and go to the market with Mae Lamai. Everyone was curious about me, but very welcoming and friendly. In fact, each day I would go to the market, I would buy the most delicious, freshest soy milk ever, and the woman who sold it would never let me pay for it. It was a very small amount of money, but is a reflection of the generosity of the people in the village. After so many months of traveling from one location to another, I can say that Ban Nong Bua is the first place that I felt like I had a home, and I really appreciated it. It has been hard to leave, but I look forward to going back, and hopefully getting more research done. I am particularly indebted to Phra Kongsin, who took time each day that he was available to meet with me and discuss either my research directly, or Buddhism and local culture. I can imagine it takes a lot of patience to discuss these things with me, as he speaks little to no English and my understanding of Thai is quite basic. All in all, I have to say the people of Ban Nong Bua are very wonderful; it is a special place and I feel very fortunate to be welcomed into the community as much as I have. I look forward to going back.

Laos, trip#2

View of the Mekong in Vientiane. Those specks are people walking out in the huge area of land that appears in the river during the dry season. The strip of land on the horizon is Thailand.

I know those of you at home are enjoying my photos and my blogs, so I thought I would definitely include something about my most recent trip to Laos, although I have to be totally honest in saying there isn’t a whole heck of a lot to write about. I spent a lot of my time in Vientiane, the capitol city of Laos, waiting to talk to people or stressing about funding for next year. I don’t necessarily think it was the most productive of times for me, but that is all about timing, which I had no control over.
I traveled to only three places on this trip: Vientiane, Luang Prabang, and Nong Khiaw. Not much to say about it. In Vientiane I met with some very helpful people and stayed at a fabulous (although pricey, for me) guesthouse.

I was only in Luang Prabang for probably a total of 2.5 days. The afternoon of my only full day in Luang Prabang, I wasn’t quite sure what to with myself, but I knew if I traveled around the main wat area, I would eventually be invited to help a novice or young monk practice their English and thus would have a chance to practice my Lao (I am always in desperate need to do that). I was right, and spent probably 3 or 4 hours at a wat chatting with a group of novices. The group size varied throughout the time I was there, averaging between four and eight novice monks who really got a kick out of talking to me all at once while speaking Lao very quickly. They knew I had no idea what was going on when they did that. One of them was even speaking Khamu at times, a language not even related to Lao. I think they got a kick out of the farang trying to practice her Lao. The novice I spoke with the most would immediately switch to speaking Thai if I spoke Thai to him instead of Lao, which was actually quite startling – I could tell the difference immediately even though the two languages are so closely related.

Later that evening, I was walking down the street near my guesthouse and saw one of the novices I had spoken with earlier in the day. “Rebecca!” he yelled. “Pai yuu sai?” (where are you going) rather than answer, I responded with a “jau pai yuu sai?” (where are you going?) and he responded that he was going to study. I said “dii lai” (very good), gave him a thumbs up, and we were on our way. A group of Lao next to where I was standing just broke out into laughter. How enjoyable. I think there are few things more wonderful about Luang Prabang than the numerous novices and monks walking the streets heading to school, to study, or to wherever they may be going. It is very beautiful, and a very good reminder that although Luang Prabang can feel like it has been totally overrun by tourists, it is still a very important Buddhist city, with novice monks coming there from around northern Laos to get a better education than they could ever receive at home.

Nong Khiaw, the other place I visited is about 3-4 hours north of Luang Prabang. It is a very beautiful area with limestone cliffs, caves, and the Nam Ou river. I didn’t get much done there but it was quite relaxing and I did get to see some banners. I had wanted to explore villages around Nong Khiaw, but it proved a difficult task because no one was of any help to me in the town. But at least I finally made it there. I thought I would get to Nong Khiaw on my last trip to Laos, but things did not quite turn out as I thought they would, with the lost wallet and all. Oh well.

Nan Province

What is there to say about Nan Province? I went there for only my second time within days of my return from Mae Chaem. I had gone to Nan for the first time this summer and could not wait to get back. Nan is one of the more “isolated” and less touristed places in northern Thailand. It shares a border with Laos, and there is even a border crossing between the two countries in Nan Province, but it has yet to be opened to non-residents. This is twofold for me because if the border was open, I would use it in an instant because it connects the two places I would like to spend time more than just about anywhere else in this whole region (Hongsa and Muang Ngoen are two towns on the Lao side of the border that I visited in November. They never quite made it onto the blog because I never had time to write about them, but that area completely stole my heart, with some of the most beautiful banners I have ever seen). However, if the border was open, I would be far from the only farang using the border, and thus two rather non-touristy areas would change very quickly.

Back to the point of this blog. I arrived in the city of Nan after 5 or 6 hours on a bus and another mountain road which makes me really question my commitment to my dissertation topic. In many ways, I wish I could just say “OK, I am sticking to the easy places” like Chiang Mai and Luang Prabang. But in fact I really love what I do and am happiest when I am out in the “chonabot” (countryside). As soon as I arrived in Nan I was glad to be there. It is a place full of people that genuinely appreciate my attempts to speak Thai. Nan Province is also full of beautiful wats, textiles, Tai Lue villages, mountains, and trees. I only had about 5 days to spend in Nan Province before I had to head back to Chiang Mai so I could fly to Vientiane, Laos. You can see why I have been too busy to keep this blog up-to-date. Anyway, I knew from my last trip to Nan that my top priority was to get out of the city and head north to the area that has numerous Tai Lue villages. I wanted to get to the Thung Chang area because I was very curious to see the banners there. I had not been there yet, and its close proximity to the Lao border has made me very curious to know if the banners look at all like those in Muang Ngoen and Hongsa, two towns on the Lao side of the border. I never made it to Thung Chang. It was just too far and I had so much to see between Nan city and Thung Chang. Perhaps next time I can head straight to Thung Chang – top priority.

So, what did I do in Nan Province? Well, I went to Ban Nong Bua and ate lunch with two very nice women who happen to be weavers. Wat Nong Bua is well known throughout Nan Province and perhaps all of northern Thailand because it has some incredible murals painted inside of the wihan (main temple building). The Tai Lue who live in Nong Bua are active weavers, and have built a traditional Tai Lue house at the back of the wat complete with two active looms underneath. The house functions to teach the tourists about Tai Lue culture and is a place where the women can weave and sell their beautiful cloths. After lunch with the women (who were incredibly generous and nice), I headed further north for about another hour, and visited two more Tai Lue wats, one named Wat Ton Laeng that I had never been to before – it was fabulous – and Wat Nong Daeng, the wat that sealed my love for Nan and was the first wat where I truly saw banners hanging in sizable numbers in the wihan for the very first time. I was excited to get to Wat Nong Daeng and it did not disappoint. There were awesome things everywhere and I just didn’t want to leave. I talked to one old lady who was in front of the wihan, then wandered around a bit. I realized that some village residents and a monk or 2 were in another building working on something, so I kind of peered in to see what was going on. They seemed to be cleaning the building. So I just sat around a bit more until one of the villagers helping at the wat got curious and came over to talk to me. I talked to him a little bit, then eventually invited myself to go help them clean. And spent the rest of the afternoon helping and gaining some valuable merit (as was pointed out to me by one of the monks). It turns out they were organizing some of the temple objects into a sort of museum display (not unusual to have at a wat).

It was fun and the head monk of the wat (“abbot” is what it roughly translates to in English) kept trying to convince me to spend the night in the village. But I didn’t have anything with me and wasn’t really mentally prepared for such an event, so I kindly refused. Repeatedly. And at the end of the day rode my motorcycle the 2+ hours to get back to the city of Nan and my guesthouse. I had promised them I would come back the next day, prepared to spend the night. But I hate to admit this – I never made it back.

The next day I got all of my things together and headed off in the direction of Nong Daeng. Because I had to pass near Ban Nong Bua, I decided to take the weavers a little present of dried fruit to thank them for their kindness and generosity the day before (note to readers who may not already know: generosity and food are two integral parts of Thai culture). I got to the wat and rode my motorcycle around to the back, knowing that was where the weavers were and suddenly found myself absolutely swarmed with schoolchildren. Pretty funny. I think they were shocked to see a farang. I just laughed and was friendly and realized there was a monk with the schoolchildren who was taking photographs of the ridiculous situation (that would be taking photos of me and the kids). It was kind a bit surreal. The teacher of the schoolchildren came over and was very friendly to me, excited to talk with me, especially because I understood Thai. She gave me her name, phone number and address and told me if I was ever in Mae Charim (a town about 30 km west of Nan city) to contact her. She even gave me some candy. At the same time I was swarmed and being photographed, the weavers had been gesturing for me to come over to them to say “hi.” I finally made it over, at the same time as the kids, but after it all died down we chatted for a bit, I gave them the fruit, and again I was invited to eat lunch with them. In the meantime, the monk who had been taking the pictures came over. I think he was a bit curious about the ridiculous grinning farang who spoke some Thai. It turned out the monk was very sweet and had been teaching the kids about the murals in the wat. One of the weavers pointed out that the monk and I were the same age, and thus could be “friends.” OK. When the monk and I got to talking, he was thrilled to hear that I was a Ph.D. student from the States who was so interested in Tai Lue art and culture. He even offhandedly mentioned I should spend time in the village so I can learn more and then record what I learn to help preserve a culture that is changing quickly. Who could refuse that? So I got his email information. I kept telling them I needed to leave so I could go to Wat Nong Daeng, but I was very tired and they convinced me that it was just too far. So I stayed there a bit, then followed the monk’s directions to get to another Tai Lue wat closeby that I had never even heard of. Once I left, I went to the wat, Wat Don Mun, and was blown away by how amazing it was . Once I got back to Nan city, I was very happy with how my day turned out, even though I felt horrible about not making it back to the place I had set out to at the beginning of the day. Well, you just never know where one path will lead from one day to the next. And to think I really almost didn’t stop at Wat Nong Bua. My entire experience would have been completely different from here on out. It again makes me question how a series of events occurs and how it is set into motion? The question of fate comes up again. Or is it a game of chance? Unanswerable, but I consider myself very lucky to have these opportunities and for them to work out as well as they do. I know I am in a Buddhist country, and certainly that will only affect my perspective. More on this later, but my friend the monk is sure that we knew each other in a former life. He is a Buddhist after all – who could expect any other explanation from him??

Then the next day I was milling around Nan trying to go to places nearer to the city and ended up following the procession to the cremation ceremony for a very important abbot-monk from the wat that has the city pillar in Nan. Wow, that was amazing and generally indescribable. It was so beautiful to see and really meant a lot to me. The cremation was a valuable lesson about the impermanence of it all. The next was my day to leave Nan. In the morning, only about an hour or two before I was scheduled to take the bus, I met another abbot and was trying to learn about the banners hung there from him, but he spoke really quickly and was too excited to show me his photos of his trips to America. He really liked that I went to the cremation the previous day and gave me a book from the funeral. And then I ran to the bus station and returned to Chiang Mai, looking towards Laos, my next destination. I was sad to leave Nan, but had promised pretty much everybody I had met that I would be back in 3 weeks time, and knowing that made leaving much easier.