Mo Gets the Last Word

Mo here. I’ve been sitting on Shereen’s desk next to the pen jar since the day Shereen and Jack unpacked from our trip. Neither of them ever take me anywhere anymore. But I am not complaining. I’m a Lego minifig. I was meant to take kids into a world of their own imagination, not make my own in the real world. The trip was fun, don’t get me wrong, but this desk is much more my style. No more crazy travels, no more wacky adventures, no more blog posts. I think I’ll stay here in Aspen, at least until someone else picks me up and takes me on a completely different trip. Call Shereen or Jack if you want me to join you, otherwise… that’s a wrap!

Six years later

It’s been six years since I left home with my mother for our trip around the world, and I’m not sure I ever really went back. We set off with tightly packed bags and loosely thought-out plans. Right from the start everyone that learned about the trip told us that it was going to be life-changing, though exactly how was a mystery. The trip is not a well-known fact about my life, not something that comes up naturally in conversation. It’s pretty hard to explain when even I’m not sure I understand it. Most people are bad at math and don’t pay attention to words, so they don’t notice the gap if I tell them I did grades 1 through 7 in Aspen and 9 through 12 in Toronto. Not that I feel bad about it, but it’s a story that takes time to tell properly. Doesn’t make much sense otherwise. When I do tell people, the question is still the same as it was before I left: how did the trip change me? I’m currently at the University of King’s College in Halifax, Nova Scotia (It’s the part of Canada that’s northeast from Maine) studying philosophy. Who’s to say how much of that decision was formed by the trip? I think a better way of phrasing the question is what the trip taught me. This is a question that I may not have a perfect answer to, but I can at least have a response for. Here are some lessons I picked up:

1. Owning very little is surprisingly easy. For the duration of the trip, we were living out of our backpacks. A couple shirts and pants were all I wore on repeat the whole time. The people we encountered along the way tended to live with even less. Especially in the warmer climates, I remember meeting people whose whole lives fit into a daypack. All this helped with the transition to boarding school immediately after the trip. Living in the same clothes during the trip, then a uniform when I got back. Now I pay rent and have things like furniture, but I still don’t own much. Having a closet of clothes is a lot less fun the movies make it look. To be honest, I miss being able to name every single object I had. Being responsible for the objects I own tends to stress me out more than the objects themselves comfort me. It’s just more *stuff* to worry about.
2. Talk to people. Talk to strangers, talk to friends. Chat up the person next to you on the bus and introduce yourself to anyone you see regularly. Friends were invaluable on the trip, and we really couldn’t have done it without all the wonderful people we met on the way. Conversations, discussions, and arguments all start with words. Signs and rules are nice and all that, but far too rigid to accomplish anything meaningful. Language is far more flexible, and flexibility is often the key to getting in and out of trouble. A few kind words can open some amazing doors. And on that note…
3. Keep your head on a swivel. Amazing opportunities pop up everywhere, if you’re paying attention. We overheard a ton of vital information, and never hesitated to jump in on something that was going in the right direction. Read community sign boards, learn the local news, even the town gossip might help. There’s no such thing as knowing too much, learning the wrong thing, or having enough information. Incorrect information is OK too. Being wrong is fine, so long as you’re willing to be corrected.
4. Just about everything is food. And it’s not all bad. I still make lentils and rice, and once I even caught myself missing ant and bittermelon soup. Granted I didn’t love everything, though I will try anything. A lot of my friends are moving into their first houses and learning to cook for the first time, and I have yet to encounter something worse than food cooked over a zho (Nepalese yak) dung fire.
5. Say yes to everything you can, but also know when to say no. The best things that happened on the trip came from saying yes and seeing where it led us. That being said, the world isn’t always as friendly as we’d hope. Bad vibes come from identifying the presence of a red flag without knowing it’s exact origin. Instincts are thoughts we haven’t had time to fully process and are trustworthy ways of staying out of trouble. We tried to keep an open mind for everything and ended up in situations I never want to be in again. It was important to learn first-hand what *not* to do so that I could make better choices in the future. Being prepared to deal with an unavoidably hairy situation is better than being unaware of it, but the further out problems can be identified, the better they can be avoided. Knowing when to turn back can be a more valuable skill than choosing where to start, especially when dealing with totally new decisions.
6. Games are easier to learn than languages. Languages are just really complicated games that take years to learn, but the local equivalent of checkers or soccer can be picked up in an afternoon. Being able to communicate with someone in any form is valuable. Games are as universal as music, and a deck of cards is smaller than a guitar. I don’t know the word “catch” in any language other than English, and I really don’t need to. Tossing small things back and forth is such a basic form of connection that even dogs get the concept. Talking to people is hard, even when they do happen to speak your language, though everyone wants to join in on a game that gets people smiling.

Six years later, those are the six lessons that stick with me. I’m not saying they’re the best six, or the right six, or even that they’re right at all. Six things I learned, and hopefully not the last six.

Looking back, six years after our trip: An entry written to Jack.

Facebook creeps me out. I can think about needing new socks, and ads start popping up in my feed about socks. I was packing for a trip to Israel, and Facebook reminded me that 6 years ago on that day I was in Israel, with you… a few weeks into our trip. It’s that picture of us sitting at an archeological site, chin in hands, hot and bored. It’s been six years since we traveled the world together. Wow. So much has changed… in the world…in our lives….in our hearts and heads. I would say all of those are for the better, except that Trump is president.

 

Often, I look back and can’t believe we actually did that trip. The me now thinks that the me back then was crazier, braver, tougher, and a bigger risk-taker than I am now. Maybe I give too much weight to the trip, but I link it to your choice of going to boarding school. That year gave you the confidence, independence, skills, and vision to get out of your small life in Aspen early. On the one hand, I love that for you, on the other, I have only myself to blame when I was experiencing “empty-nest syndrome” when you were only 14. But I love how we have both turned out, so far.

 

I don’t know all the ways we are each different because of the trip. Who is to say what quality or decision was made because of the trip? Of course it shaped both of our characters, choices, and perspectives in some way…hopefully mostly for the better.

 

I do know one thing…I am better at going with the flow. You may not notice or see it, and I’m not Heather, but the trip gave me lots of practice at letting go of control. It may not look like it, but I have also purged stuff, buy less, and strive for minimalism. I try to “go without” when packing for a trip, stopping before I buy something to check-in with myself that I really need it, and I let go of possessions that are lost, broken, or others need with much more ease.

 

My sweetest and my toughest memories are from Nepal and Cambodia. We both cried the most in Kathmandu, and got the sickest in Siem Reap. Neither was so bad, looking back. I loved the trekking with Dad and the Jacksons most of all, and loved the friends and social life in Siem Reap (even though the work was not so rewarding).

 

What did it do to/for us as mother and son? I’d like to think it brought us closer before we had to separate. I keep that email you sent me “read it all, it only gets better”. I think you wrote it when we first got to Cambodia and times were super tough for us. I’m glad my memory doesn’t hold onto the details, and is excellent at remembering things all a little rosier than it really might have been. I like that about my brain. It serves me well.

 

I’d like to explore more of the world together again, one day. We could be more independent, yet together, on a future trip.

Home Sweet Home

We’ve been home almost two weeks now. I put off writing a blog entry until I felt we had made the transition back into our lives, but now I realize it doesn’t happen that fast and it could be a long time coming. And so I write while in the acclimatization process.

First, some reflections on the trip: I realize now that I took yoga classes in every country we visited except one, and only in Cambodia was it in English. So I have heard “Inhale” and “Exhale” in Hebrew, Turkish, Nepali, and Thai, but not Khmai. We were in India for only 4 days, and although yoga classes were offered in our hotel, I slept through every one of them. So ironically, the only country we visited in which I did not do yoga was the country best known for its yoga.

India was a pleasant surprise. I had braced myself for what I thought was going to be the most difficult experience of our trip—Mumbai. I had read books and seen movies that depicted a place where the sights and smells just attack the senses. I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle it, not even four days. I was pleasantly surprised. Had I just become desensitized from our time in other countries? Did our guide, Hemali, know how to give us just a peek or sniff of the “rougher” side of her fair city, but not enough to overwhelm? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Suffice to say, it was a wonderful experience that was a perfect balance and pleasant in all regards. Jordan’s pictures speak for themselves (see below), so I will spare you the thousand words for each.

During the last few weeks on the road, people had been asking us, “What is the first thing you want to do when you get home?” Jack’s answer was, “Lie down on my own bed, and have a bacon cheeseburger and an Oreo milkshake at Boogie’s.” My answer was, “Snuggle Tiki, and hike and ski the Bowl.” Well, we landed, my mom and dad picked us up and we came home. Jack flopped on his bed for 5 minutes, then went to Boogie’s with my parents. I crawled into bed with Tiki and fell asleep. The next few days was a blur of hugging friends, booking check-up appointments with the dentist/vet/doctor, nesting, laundry, long walks with Tiki and friends, and appreciating every little thing. I got my first hike and ski in the Bowl on Thursday with Sally. She was patient and waited for me on the slow hike up. It was a glorious sunny day with plenty of soft snow. Just as I dreamed it would be.

Jack re-enrolled in Aspen Middle School and his first day back was the first day of the last quarter. He seems to be enjoying the fun parts (woodshop, lunch, recess), reconnecting with friends, and taking the rest in stride. Even though there was snow on the ground, Jack went to school the first few days in flip-flops because that is all he had. Thanks to Zappos.com, he now has a pair of shoes, too.

Jack and I both find ourselves wearing the same clothes we wore on the trip. We have other options in our closets, but we both seem to reach for the familiar. I get overwhelmed with all the clothes I have.

Oh, our first Friday night home, the Groundhog contest was judged at our Shabbat dinner table. Here are the grand prize winner and the close runner-up:

Largest open air laundry in the world

Celebrating Holi with Hemali and her family and friends

here’s just a few on the street

Note the guy prepping veggies down below in his living/sleep area.

he couldn’t get them on his head, let alone get on the crowded train.

5,500 guys pick up, deliver, and return 1,000,000 lunchboxes every day and don’t get them mixed up!

Mumbai’s Macy’s

all you need is chalk, rocks and shells

sweatshop in Dharavi slum

can you find him in the marigolds?

Southernmost point of Mumbai

In a Jain Temple

Send your laundry here and you get it all back

Mo Does Mumbai

OK, so I have a confession to make. I’m Mo, but reincarnated. After 7 months on the road with Jack and Shereen, the original Mo was lost a few days ago. Luckily, Jack is carrying a bag of mini fig pieces, so Shereen was able to assemble an exact replica of me. I could have tried to pull off that I am the original Mo, but in case any of you can detect the lack of cracks in my torso, I decided to come clean. That said, I am the same adventuresome and plucky Lego guy, here to share some more random fun-facts from the trip. All of the photos (except the Holi photos that required a waterproof camera) were taken on Jordan’s camera, and we don’t have the right cord, so those will be shared once we are home.

 

1. Mumbai, which was Bombay until 1995, is home to 22 million people, 50% of which live in slums. It is one of the largest cities in the world.
2. Mumbai has the most expensive home in the world: $2 billion. It has a staff of 500 and has 27 floors for a family of 5.
3. We got to see the world’s largest open-air laundry. Fascinating to see the whole process, and it has 99.9% accuracy getting it back to you.
4. There are 44,000 cabs in Mumbai, many from 1964. That’s older than Shereen.
5. The maximum carrying capacity we have seen to date on a motorbike is Dad, Mom, brother, sister, baby, dog and the laundry. This was in Cambodia. Impressive. We use minivans for such volume in the US.
6. At the community seder at Kinnesseth Eliyahu Synagogue (130 years old and beautifully adorned), there were not only local Indian Jews, but also Jews from Sweden, Russia, Nigeria, Australia, France, and Israel. The shmurah matzah was round and doughy, like roti, not crispy like ours.
7. There are 4,000 Jews in Mumbai.
8. Shereen took a bath in a bathtub in each place it was available, which is odd, because she has a bathtub at home and never uses it.
9. Shereen rode a bicycle in every country on the trip (except India). This made her very happy.

10. Jack has read more than 14 books in 7 months. Some by choice, some by coercion.

11. Jack has had ice cream in every country visited. His most memorable was in Ao Naang, Thailand with Adria Collins.

12. While the 3 of us were on this trip, Jordan climbed in 4 mountain ranges: Himalayas, Rockies, Andes and the Alps.

13. I can count on one hand the number of times Jordan ate dinner at home while we’ve been gone. And have you seen my Lego hands?

14. A massage from a blind person in Siem Reap, Cambodia is $5 for an hour, but worth SO much more. Shereen went twice and grossly over-tipped the man, hoping someone will let him know the bill she handed him does not have a 5 on it.

15. A tuk-tuk in Nepal, Thailand, Cambodia, and India are all different modes of transportation. The most comfortable tuk-tuk award goes to Cambodia.

16. Taxis are the cheapest in the world in Mumbai. Ask to use the meter. Taxis rip you off worst in Nepal, don’t use the meter and settle on a price before you get in.

17. Wallah means “guy” in Hindi. So the guy who fixes your shoe is the shoewallah. The guy who sells you a mango is the mangowallah. Too bad they don’t sell challah here.

18. Our days in Mumbai were all absolutely amazing, thanks to a very special woman, Hemali. Be sure to contact her if you are coming to explore this wild and wonderful city. http://bravobombay.com/

Last Cambodia Post (again, but for Riel)

I don’t think you’ve heard enough about Cambodia. I mean 3 blog posts already, totally not enough. That’s why we (Jack and… well maybe its an “I”) wrote this 4^th blog post on Cambodia! Just to make sure that if you weren’t sick of it already, now you will be! (Fun fact #1: the Cambodian currency is called Riel) (fun fact #2: this is the 50th post ever!)

Lets start with what you know; we are working in an NGO school a 5-minute bike ride from our hostel, the hostel is awesome, and we are fairly happy. So really the only thing that hasn’t been turned into a monologue on the blog is the school itself. It is on a dirt road on a large back road. From the outside, it looks like a normal Khmer house behind some red gates and a small bridge that crosses a sewer. The house is a giant house with a basketball court on one side, a large corrugated tin tent in front of that, and a playground on the other side. The inside of the school/house is a smoosh of 12 or so rooms, a hallway, and a small open space. The bottom level is the wide hallway stuffed with chairs, couches, and tables for staff to work at, with 3 rooms, a library, and a storage area. When you walk up the stairs, it goes from a well-lit, cool workplace, to a dusty, hot, and darker open area. It’s filled with old computers, hula-hoops and pictures, all stuffed into one corner. There are 5 classrooms that branch off that, and one of those continues on into yet another room. All the classrooms are roughly the same size, but none of them look the same. The kindergarten have a bright blue and green room, the middle kids’ room looks like the inside of a porcelain teapot (the ones that are white with blue flowers and vines crawling over them), and one of the classrooms is half wood and bamboo. The desks vary from a few large tables, to no tables (kindergarten doesn’t really need them I guess), to classic bench-desks, and the computer classroom is set up as a horseshoe facing away from the whiteboard. I have to say, though, I really like the different setups. I get to walk into every room, not knowing what to expect (for those of you who would get it, it’s like the Claim Jumper hotel was in Crested Butte, CO). The signs on the door don’t do anything to prepare you either. It’s not like in America, seeing the kindergarten sign and expecting mayhem and seeing the biology classroom and expecting older kids. The class names are Angkor Wat, Eiffel Tower, Great Wall of China, Taj Mahal, Pyramid (of Giza), and (the Sydney) Opera House*. (*: Classes not in order, and parentheses signify things that are not on the signs, but are the full names of the monuments they are named for.). So you walk into Pyramid and find little kids (fairly ironic considering the size of the kids and pyramids), and the next room over is Taj Mahal and the first-aid room/western bathroom. Some rooms just don’t have signs, so not only do you not have any idea what your walking into, you cant find the classroom you want if you do know what your walking into. Ronda (an Australain volunteer) has asked me to remake most of the signs, but they are yet to be printed.

Unlike Marshyangdi, there is almost a lack of work. Correction: there would be if things were normal. The only reason I have work to do right now, is because two busses of Korean 8^th graders pulled up and they are repainting the fence and library, and plowing/replanting the garden. I’ve been helping with that, and talking to the kids who are great, and speak really good English (they are also very… privileged). The other thing I’ve been doing is small tasks for Ronda like making signs.  Mom has been helping out by writing documents on volunteer entry and exit strategies, better lesson planning, and how to plan out a week.

On a brighter note: We just had a really fun weekend afternoon at a lake-beach called West Barai! Mom and 5 others from the hostel swam to the island at the middle of the lake, and I spent all afternoon reading in a hammock and eating snacks. Call me lazy, but it was so nice to not have anything to worry about or do, not having Mom worrying about anything, eating food on a beach, being on a beach, but not in the sun (we had a little bungalow/shack with 12 hammocks), and just generally being happy. Since 10 other people from the hostel were there, I got to meet some pretty interesting people. One of them, Rebecca, convinced me to put Burning Man on my bucket list, because she’s been and loves it.

As part of my “schoolin”, I’ve had to start keeping an expense log. It’s been really cool seeing how much this and that actually cost, and adding it all up at the end of the day. I’m learning that a few small things add up, a free breakfast every day (included with the cost of the hostel room), and free lunch at school everyday has made a huge difference. Food is a lot cheaper here than in the US or Canada, but it still isn’t free. I’ve learned this and so much else, just by keeping a simple Excel spreadsheet.

Movie: well, it’s right here

I had this same thing almost every morning in Siem Reap, but normally with penut butter.

The cutest little kid walking around Anjali

…but made out of Minifigs, dental floss, and plastic bags.

all the Anjali House volunteers eating lunch

Coasting in Cambodia

*Edit: some of the images at the bottom were sideways (anti-gravity tigers might be cool, but slightly annoying to crane your head and look at it), and now they are fixed.

Update: The hotel with a generator upgraded us to the penthouse suite after we posted the last blog entry. For those two nights of the blackout, we had our hostel friends over in our air-conditioned suite for watching movies, playing games, eating pizza, charging their electronics, showering, and enjoying the pool with elephant fountains.

Jack and I bought bicycles. It is a 5-minute ride to where we are volunteering at Anjali House. Celine, Christine and Daan (Belgian and Australian) are friends we made at the hostel who are working at Anjali. They are also here long term (1-3 months).

The yoga teacher asked me to teach her Sunday afternoon classes at the hostel, and I have been doing yoga and learning capoeira with my friends on the yoga terrace. We are the “ines”: Christine, Celine, Maxine, and Shereen (Sherine?). There are others, too, but their names don’t rhyme.

Remember Adria from the photos in Thailand? She is a friend from one of my Birthright buses that we got to spend a day with in Ao Naang. She is coming to Siem Reap in two days, and will hopefully stay here at the hostel, too.

———————————-

Discovery: With just about 3 weeks left to go on this trip, I have become reflective and captured some scattered thoughts and observations about myself.

*I am appreciating the little luxuries like never before, most of them in the personal hygiene department. For example, after a day at work and the bike ride home, I just love going right to the sink and washing my face and then stand under the a/c unit.  I find I am happiest when I can be clean and social, which is so easy at the hostel.

*This computer has been my saving grace. My lifeline. I would not have had the strength out there in Kauk Run if it were not for my ability to lean on friends and family. My dad would wake up early in Aspen to sing us his “Goodnight Song” at our bedtime in Cambodia. Valerie was with me through the wee hours of the worst night of the runs, FB chatting between trips to the loo, and had me laughing so hard I had tears running down both cheeks (that would be left and right on my face, not the other cheeks).

*Angkor Wat. It seems strange to be in Siem Reap for 5 weeks and not mention Angkor Wat in our blog. Jack and I weren’t into it that much. It was the same with museums and most sight-seeing throughout the trip. We are more excited about interactions and moments with people, both locals and other travelers, than we are about sites, even something as grand and impressive as all those old temples.

 *Birthday fuss. I learned that I am not OK with a quiet, under-the-radar birthday. I think I already knew that, but this year I was forced to reconfirm the notion.

*Jack and I are better if we don’t move around too much. We both would rather get to fewer places, but know them (and the people) better.

*I need to be active and Jack needs to sit still, so we need to find the balance in every day. Today, for example, I went for a 3 hour bike ride around Ankor Wat while Jack stayed in the room and played on the computer with friends.

*Being on this trip has actually brought me closer to some people in my life, even though I am geographically much further away from them. Some distant friends resurfaced and sent words of encouragement when they read about hard times in the blog. Relatives who I don’t stay in good contact with while living in Aspen became regular features with comments on the blog or Facebook. And close friends became closer when they supported me through the rough patches, keeping me going and keeping me laughing through it all.

*I can handle the cheaper option (ie: long bumpy bus ride w/no toilet or a/c vs. short flight or $5 shuttle van to airport vs. $10 taxi), but it doesn’t make sense to be so extra uncomfortable or risk missing a flight to prove I can save 100 or even 10 bucks. We can afford to get to the island faster and more comfortably, so why was I leaning towards the harder/cheaper option? Frugality? Trying to prove how tough I am? Game over. Lessons learned: It is not necessary to be uncomfortable or to suffer to learn something. It is also OK to have money and use it freely on yourself.

*I asked Jack, “If you could go back to a place, would you pick Kathmandu or Paradise Resort on Ko Yao? He picked Kathmandu. So did I. Yes, it was cold and dirty and he didn’t love the food, but it’s the people that ultimately make a place special and draw you back.

*I need to talk less. Listen more. Take in the silence more. It’s hard for me.

*I gave myself 3 tests while on this trip:  try to live without stuff, live without a plan, and live like the locals do. I am still not sure why those were important tests for me, but I am feeling a small sense of accomplishment for simply having taken the tests. That’s good, because I didn’t exactly pass them all with flying colors.

I did OK on Test #1, trekking without any stuff. It wasn’t for a long time, but I just needed to experience it to confirm that I can be happy and comfortable enough without my things. Check.

Test #2 was harder: going without a plan. This one caused much stress and anxiety for me. I hated that Saturday night in Bangkok, scrambling for a room at an island resort and a flight for the next morning. What if I got the flight but then no rooms were left, or vice versa? It turns out we got a great last-minute rate on the room and a cheap flight, but I was a wreck. Another time, while in panic mode, we did a desperation grab for a room online that we never used and couldn’t get a refund. Lesson learned. And while standing at a tourist information booth in Ao Naang with our heavy packs and no room at sunset on a holiday weekend, I had visions of Jack and I having to sleep on a bench. Now again, it turned out, after 20 places all being booked, we got the last room at a really great place that was cheap and cheerful. Even though things always worked out for the best during our time “winging it”, I still don’t want to push my luck and do it like that again. It’s OK to research and book ahead. It makes me happy and relaxed, so why wouldn’t I?

Test #3, trying to live like the locals, taught me who I really am.  This is important to know and to not be ashamed of my limitations, but recognize them and respect them. Before the trip, I had visions of always eating/sleeping/ living like the host family. We were able to do that until rural Cambodia. We found our breaking point and were smart enough to back off and return to our comfort zone and not tough it out. I tried to comfort myself with, “I could have done it when I was in my 20’s.” But could I have? And why is that so important to me? Do I measure my worth by how rough I can live and still find joy? And if so, WHY? Where did that come from? Many of you have reassured me that I am plenty tough and don’t have to test that any more. Thank you. Hearing it from enough of you, people whom I love and respect, finally convinced my inner critic that you were right. I needed to hear it from inside me.

*This trip was not designed to be comfortable. That was the point. Jack knows what first class travel and living feels like. I wanted him to experience uncomfortable, and acknowledge that it is not only unpleasant, but that it is the only reality so many will have during their time on this earth. Well, mission accomplished. And as it turns out, we also got a bonus insight, that by spending more money on a fancy hotel, one can become isolated. The cheaper hostel, which we actually find more comfortable, except during the power outage, is a richer life full of new friends, and fun things to do with them.

So Cambodia turned out to be all sorts of great learning moments for both of us, and continues to be, but from a much more comfortable place now….and THAT’S OK.

Will you see the changes in me or Jack when we come back? I wonder. Will we slip back into our previous mindset when we get back to our familiar environment? I hope you will let us know. I am curious. Maybe it is something we will feel, but it won’t be detectable by others.

At the fancy hotel with a generator

at Angkor Wat

I didn’t see the movie, but I liked how this tree is growing on the temple wall.

Right, of course!

after the war

Part of Pol Pot’s hideout

we swam in them.

Shereen, Christine, Celine and Maxine

Only 50 cents each!

and Tyler’s first yoga class ever

At Under Construction, a restaurant.

A great restaurant with Khmer food and Western–even poutine!

note the rebar decor in the background, too

 

 

Cambodia Continues to Challenge – Week 2

A Synopsis of Days 160-165

Monday: We left the village of Kauk Run (which Valerie renamed “Kauk Runs” in her funny FB chatting with me) and checked into the Siem Reap Hostel for the month. For $28/night, we get a nice room of our own w/toilet, shower, a/c and fan, buffet breakfast, laundry once a week, use of the bicycles, books and DVDs to share, and it’s a hip place: swimming pool with floating cow toys, good music, billiards, foosball, board games, yoga classes, massages, multiple lounge areas, good food, friendly and supportive staff, and cool, sociable backpackers from US, Canada, UK, Australia, and all over Europe. http://www.thesiemreaphostel.com/

Tuesday: Jack and I went to check out a school called Feeding Dreams. It was an impressive and large operation, educating, feeding, and providing social services and health care for hundreds of poor kids and their families. The director gave us such a warm, hearty welcome. We also celebrated our return to comfort clinking glasses (milkshake/smoothie) in a hip, air-conditioned restaurant. Back home, we played “Battleship”, swam in the pool, and met some people also at the hostel for the month volunteering. Maxine is even from the small town in the outback of South Australia where I worked in 1991 (and found Spoony). Small world!

Wednesday: Jack woke up vomiting. We both still had the runs a bit, but this wiped him out. I went to see Smiling Hearts without him. That school was not a match for us. Don’t you love all the names, though? Kathmandu also had some schools with names like Little Angels, Young Hearts, and our favorite was Sacred Cosmos (their school van had Gonzo, the muppet painted on it). I then went to see Anjali House on the recommendation of 3 people who are also staying in the hostel who all work there. In the words of Goldilocks, “this one was JUST right.” I found our match.  http://anjali-house.com/   Jack stayed in bed all day, drank sips of water, and slept.

Thursday: We woke up to a power failure. The whole city was out. Jack vomited clear liquids, was lethargic, and had a fever. He needed a doctor. I took him to a clinic. The doctor, dripping with sweat because the clinic did not have a generator, gave him medicine to help him keep things down and the equivalent of Emergen-C powder to stay hydrated. Problem was, he had no appetite. We went back to the room, and I biked around Siem Reap in search of saltines and ginger ale. I found them and came back to a baking hot room. No a/c, fan, lights, wifi,  running water in sink or shower, and no flushing toilet. I couldn’t even call Jordan because my phone battery was dead and we had no way to charge it. I opened our balcony door and the door to the open-air hallway, creating both a slight cross breeze and a flow of mosquitoes. I read my book all day, sticky with sweat. Jack sweated and slept.  I skipped dinner, as my tummy is still not fully back on track, and slept on the tile floor because it was cooler than the bed. Rough night.

Friday: At 5:30am, I began walking the street, looking for lights and listening for generators. The first boutique hotel I found with power was fully booked. But the second one had a room for $140/night. They said they could have it ready by 10am. I went back to the hostel to tell Jack, and he was fine with just sticking it out in the hostel. They were trying to get a generator installed to power the water pump and maybe enough for lights or fans. I channeled my inner Jordan and told Jack I was throwing money at this problem and we are moving for the night. I packed a few essentials in our day pack and moved Jack to the hotel. We have a/c, wi-fi, running water. He is on the mend and had some chicken broth and Gatorade.

Saturday: Power is STILL out in the city. Some say it will be all through the next week, too. We extended our stay in the hotel another night when I learned that last night our friends back in the hostel barely slept. It was really hot, so they opened their windows and doors, lit mosquito coils in their rooms, and wet their sarongs and slept under them to try to stay cool. They now have a generator, but just enough power to pump water to the rooms. No fan, light, wi-fi, or a/c yet. Those who stayed are bonding in this “adventure”, as Gus and Dreiss are pouring free drinks 5-7pm.

So hopefully, Jack will soon restore to full health, Siem Reap will restore its power, we will return to the hostel, and we will begin working at Anjali House so we can tell you all about it. I have to say, this hotel is just what we needed, given the circumstances, but I can’t wait to get back to the hostel. Money can buy you a/c and comforts like wifi access in a power outage, but what Gus and Dreiss have created at the hostel is priceless, and I am glad that is our home for our month in Siem Reap.

Speaking of home…we will be in Aspen one month from now! Wow!

the Tuk Tuks here are really motorcycle pedicabs, and this one is bright orange!

Milkshakes at the blue pumpkin as a “We Survived” Treat!

This is the view of our hostel from the hotel room balcony

Photo taken from our hostel room balcony

as seen from our hostel room with no power (zoom in)

One Week in Rural Cambodia

So we entered the country no problem, despite the Bangkok Air ticket agent’s warning that I might not get a Cambodian visa when we land because I have only one blank page in my passport. She even made me sign an official indemnification form. I had visions of Jack and me stuck in some awful holding tank at the airport, but no one batted an eyelash while processing my visa. Our first day, we saw some of the highlights at Angkor Wat and the Old Market in Siem Reap. We moved to the countryside the next day. The real adventure began.

What’s so hard? It is not easy to explain without sounding whiny, ungrateful, insulting, or sensationalist, but we will both try in our first attempt at a shared blog post.

Housing (S) Being a guest can be intimidating, especially if you don’t know the local customs. I think in the first few hours, I touched an elder above the neck, stretched my legs out sitting in a circle (they were cramped) and thus pointing the bottom of my feet at someone, and ate with my left hand. Now I know, those are all taboo. I brought the absolute wrong hostess gifts. Now that I am here I can see that.

As for sleeping noises, this locale takes the cake. In Israel it was quiet nights everywhere we slept. In Istanbul, it was the chanting blaring from speakers mounted on the minarets every morning pre-dawn. Nepal brought the clanging guards of the nearby munitions factory and monks playing their horns, cymbals and bells in the wee hours. Thailand was relatively silent both in Bangkok and on the islands. Here in rural Cambodia, it is a symphony from sunset to sunrise: the maddening buzz of mosquitos, the loud “eh-oh” of the geckos on the walls, the roosters who didn’t get the memo that “cock-a-doodle-doo” is supposed to just be at sunrise, the engines and horns from the road, and Jack’s favorite– the nasal toned chanting being done over the loudspeaker somewhere nearby.

The visual. The road from Siem Reap west to the Thai boarder is flat, straight, and dotted with small settlements. Kauk Run is the one 28km from the city. Our home is on the roadside. The house is a one-room wooden shack on stilts. The front porch serves as the kitchen and eating area. Some family members sleep inside. Under the porchis for hanging a few hammocks and storing construction supplies like rebar and pvc pipe. All food scraps are flung over the railing of the kitchen/dining porch. Watch your step. The resident chickens, pig, cats and puppy (thank god for the puppy who lets me cuddle his flea-infested fur!) eat up the debris. Other trash gets burned. Next to the house is the shop. It is concrete and tin. They sell construction supplies, fuel, and some random things like mangos and shampoo. The back of the shop is where a few of the family members sleep, including us.

You can get to our room two ways during the day, but only the trickier way at night, when they lock up. The easy way is the steep external staircase to a landing where Ma sleeps. She is grandma, and a nun. Monks and nuns cannot sleep on soft bedding. She sleeps on a thin woven mat on a wooden floor under a mosquito net. Inside is an open space with a Buddhist prayer shrine and a door to our room, which the family worked so hard to set up to be comfortable for their first volunteer homestay. We have a bed, a fan, a pee bucket, and a nightstand. The floor just outside our room has a trap door with a steep ladder down. The journey to the toilet at night involves the ladder and dodging chicken poop, cockroaches, and spiders on the path in the dark to get to the toilet out behind the house. Thus, the pee bucket. I still take many night trips to the loo, due to the diarrhea (see Health section below), but luckily, I brought a headlamp. Once in there, I’m not sure of the proper etiquette or the most efficient way to use it. I did not bring toilet paper, nor is it for sale around here. I am trying to embrace life without toilet paper.

(J) The property. The first house is a small house with what looks like a monster cargo-container stuck to the front of it. Next to it is a little, raised wooden shack with some various cooking supplies and utensils on the porch. Behind it all, there are a few more houses under construction for more family members. Inside the corrugated tin part, it looks like someone set up a RadioShack, Home Depot, and a motorcycle repair shop. Like every other store, they have a corner for Pepsi and snack food products.

This is primitive. Most homes (I’m told 75-80%) in rural Cambodia have no electricity or bathroom. We have both, and they installed a “sink” for us, too. It is a giant clay pot with a PVC spigot into a draining metal basin). It’s sparsely furnished (beds and a few red plastic chairs around the place).

Food (S) In the first two days, despite my attempts to explain I am a vegetarian, I have been served fried frogs (beheaded), red ant soup (they float on top, in case you were wondering), and other foods I have not considered eating before. Jack and I are struggling with the new tastes. We eat very little during the two meals a day, sometimes just the rice. They talk about us. They watch us eat. Grandma is worried and trying to get us to eat. I see people here who have so little to eat each day that our cup of rice twice a day is on par. I supplement with the occasional mango.

(J) Ant soup, fried frog, fried cricket, tarantula, pig fat, snail, fertilized duck eggs, you name it, and they eat it. Our first night here it was really promising, with a Khmer BBQ (a little hot dome placed in the middle of our eating circle on the floor so you can stick your veggies or beef on the dome, or in the soup around it), but that only lasted one night. From then on it was something to the effect of fish and rice porridge, or dried fish* and rice porridge, or just fish* and rice, no porridge. To me, its tastes not-so-hot. Even after they realized that we don’t like the food (I was reduced to eating just rice), they started making us “Western food”.  I still wasn’t a fan. When they come stand over me and watch me eat, I chew on the piece of pig fat so I don’t insult them. *When I say fish, that’s an exaggeration. It’s not very much fish, so really its just rice.

Health (S) Whether from the water or the food, Jack and I have developed some gastro-intestinal issues. This leads to both more practice at tp-free living, and learning how to wash your laundry without letting them help you because it is embarrassing. We are taking Malarone, which creates a slight headache and some minor nausea to add to the GI discomfort. We treat all our drinking water with the Steri-pen, or drink bottled water, but the dishes are washed in untreated water, and our fruit/veg are washed in it, and the meals are prepared with untreated and unheated water. I am losing weight that I always meant to lose. That’s good for my health, or so I tell myself.

(J) Whether it was the unfiltered water, the sheer amount of rice we ate, the chicken poop all over the place, the air, or something else, I’m sick. Not constipated, or flu sick, but diarrhea of the major degree. gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg <- edited out for graphic bowel details

Volunteer work (S) We came out here to be helpful and volunteer. It didn’t really come together. Now we learn that they do not want foreigners teaching during the regular school hours. Here, kids go to school either 7-11am or 1-5pm. Everyone rests 11am-1pm to avoid the heat of the day. That means we are not useful until 5pm. What to do with all those hours in a day?

(J) Or, quite frankly, lack there of. When I say there is nothing to do here, there is really nothing to do here. Ever. The kids get 4 hours of school every day, and an optional English class after school. The English standard is really low here, because most kids start learning it at grade 7. By comparison, Marshyangdi (where we taught in Nepal) students start learning in nursery (age 3).

Language barrier (S) We are in a village where 3 adults speak English, and none of them live with us. The students cannot verbally engage with us yet. Khmer is hard, with sounds that are hard to hear and imitate. We mostly use charades.

(J) Barrier is the wrong word, since it implies that there is a way over it. I think language Great Wall of China is a better term. Everyone in the community speaks next to no English, including our little family compound. Kim, our host, is the only one who has really good English (he speaks with a sweet Cambodian/British accent), but he lives in Siem Reap with his wife and two sons. We live with his mother and extended family.

Heat (S) My body is not used to the constant heat. Even at night in bed, it is hot. Our host family set us up with a fan in our room. It helps, but I am still sticky and stinky 24/7. I don’t know how the women do it, but out here they wear turtlenecks under another long sleeved shirt and even gloves. They do not want the sun on their skin, but that sure looks HOT!

(J) Its hotter than wearing a down jacket, in a down sleeping bag, under three blankets, next to a heater, at noon, in the Sahara, during a heat wave here. Miami is hot, but you can go inside and stand under an A/C unit or swim in a pool.

Isolation (S) We are about 1k from the nearest market (think authentic farmers market with women under tarps selling their duck eggs or bananas). That is the nearest school, too. The only person we have met with a computer is the school principal, and he wants Jack to show him how to use it. People get around on bicycles (one speed, usually 2-3 people on it), or motorbike/scooter (those can hold 4 people and today I saw one with 6 mattresses stacked on the back!).  So you can’t just hail a taxi back to Siem Reap.

(J) We are 28 kilometers from civilization. It’s like “Survivor”, but farther away, in Khmer, no cameras, and its actually happening. There is a “market” not so far away from here, but that’s the same market that sells cricket, frogs and snails, so I haven’t even bothered to go when Mom does. The loneliness gets depressing. I’ve spent entire days pent up in the room, because there’s nothing better to do and it’s a 1000^O outside. Even the locals occasionally just fall asleep in hammocks for hours during the day.

Insects (S) The mosquitoes are worse up here than in the city. We also have quite a few resident fleas, massive spiders, cockroaches, biting ants, fat flying beetles, and tiny ants that are on every morsel of food. At the market, they sell a bug that is the size of your hand, and the crickets sell fast by the kilo.  One night, we were up quite late pinching little black bugs out of our bedding. Jack gave up and slept on the hard tile floor in the end.

(J) It’s nasty. We have to hang everything off of hooks so that ants don’t get into it. I smashed a cockroach, and it made a sound that was definitely not the shoe hitting the floor. It was the sound of smashing some Doritos, try it with your kids, and it makes a sound. If you actually do that, make a video, post it on YouTube, send me the link, and receive a FREE post card and finger puppet of your choice*. Oh, and remember the little ants? When I went to sweep the dead cockroach out, it was absolutely swarming with ants, and they had actually moved it. Remember, the ants are this big  ..    (about the size of two periods stuck together) and the cockroach is maybe this long |———————————-| possibly longer.

*The postcard will be sent right away and will be a staff pick. The puppet will arrive at the same time as Shereen and Jack, possibly later, and is from the earthy-crunchy gift shop in our hostel and probably supports some organization. The postcard can also arrive at the same time as the finger puppet if you choose.

What we liked (to end on a positive note): Shereen liked riding the bicycle along the sandy, bumpy road past homes, water buffalo, mango trees, rice paddies and people staring at the white girl. She also liked learning the dance moves at a local wedding reception, and then being able to do them at the school’s water well and rice bank inauguration party.  Jack liked watching Ti fix electrical things in his outdoor repair shop. We both liked the kindness and concern shown to us, lying in the hammock, and watching the sunset.

Lessons Learned

(J) Well, I learned that just because I’m not scared of bugs doesn’t mean I like them. That just because it’s the 21^st century doesn’t mean everyone in the world can take advantage of it. And that I’m not that tough. I also learned that I hate hot and muggy climates, isolation, and that rice is not my favourite food ever.

 

(S) I’ve got more to say than Jack on this topic. After this week, I waive my white flag. We are on Day 160 and I am humbled. I knew I was in trouble when I started using my pill packet like an advent calendar, counting the days until we fly to India. I brought Jack on this trip so he could experience just this kind of thing, but it got too hard for us. There is a Peace Corps volunteer posted out here for two years, living with a host family. We did not see her, but my hat goes off to her. I’d like to be that tough. I’ve been very judgmental of myself for not being able to adapt. I did do two very smart things this week: I bought a USB stick with an unlimited data plan for my laptop before we left the city, and I used it to reach out when I broke into tears. Friends and family, you were amazing! You made me laugh through my tears. You inspired me with quotes and words of encouragement. It was just what I needed to keep going. To see some of the hilarious and/or supportive words, check out my Facebook page.

So I learned I have softened over the years. My basic needs are greater than they were 25 years ago. That’s OK. I wanted to still be able to be comfortable with so little. I’m not. Now I know and accept this. My inner princess and my outer earth mother had an interesting tug-of-war this week. I also concluded we need to find a better balance between “character building suffering” and remembering that we can shine and give our best to others when we are healthy and comfortable.

I learned to be flexible. The first part of this trip was planned. I wanted this part of the trip to be more spontaneous, which is not in my comfort zone. A few days into our week here, I realized we need to come up with a Plan B, and that we don’t have to tough this out for 5 weeks, as arranged.

I also learned that extreme poverty in a really hot climate has some different challenges from extreme poverty in really cold places, but most are the same. So mosquito nets instead of blankets are desired for bedtime, but getting water, growing enough food, and educating the children are daily concerns. What I found it both is joy in the community. In cold and hot places, I have danced in a circle of celebration, laughed, witnessed incredible community cohesiveness, shared quiet hours, and have been showered with smiles, kindness, and generosity.

NOW WHAT?

So this has been our life for one week, and a really REALLY important part of our trip, as difficult as it was. I am grateful for it, and equally grateful (as well as a bit proud, I must admit), that we lasted a whole week. We have explained to our host that without viable work from 9am-5pm, and without foods we can enjoy eating and digest easily, this is not a good place for us to stay for the next four weeks as planned. Today, we are moving into a hostel in Siem Reap and will look for volunteer work in the city.

We don’t have many photos. It didn’t feel comfortable or appropriate to take pictures around the home, only at the school for the new water well and rice bank celebration. We hope we painted vibrant pictures with our words.

Where grandma, the nun, sleeps

“Saw” means white in Khmer. The puppy’s name is Saw.

Everyone brought homemade rice noodles for the celebration dinner.

To go over the homemade rice noodles

Everyone brought rice. Now they can borrow as needed during hard times.

A ritual where the monks, then everyone, drops rice from their plate into five other plates.

More Thailand pictures

Since there were a few pictures that got left out of Jack’s last post, and many featured ME, I am sharing them now.The shrimp curry was gooooood………..oh, and we dug up a photo that got missed from back in Nepal. I’m in it, of course. Today we move to the countryside in Cambodia. We saw Angkor Wat yesterday. When we figure out internet access, we will back with more posts. Stay tuned! -Mo

this soup was good, but happy Jack’s was better

despite the appearance, its surprisingly easy to make,it’s just hard to find the right curry paste, and kefir lime leaves in america.

Whats better than yellow curry? Yellow curry and rice!

Shereen and her new Thai cooking certificate.

we went into that little cave opening

to get from one island to the next with kayaks

we layed back in the kayak and passed under that rock. dark cave full of bats.

Finally found this photo! It’s from trekking in Nepal.