mickan in world

I knew it was going to be uncomfortable. I was prepared for 2 times 9 hours on a wooden bench without a cushion. But I did not see it coming.

The first day was okay. I mean; my but was quite sore and it was raining and cold for most of the day, but the company was nice and we got there reasonably on time. The landscape was nice, not breathtaking (like the road between Vang Vieng and Ponsavan), but nice. All in all it was quite an agreeable jerney and I had a nice book to pass the time (Papillon by Henri Charriere- read it!).

But, oh my God the second day! I name it the worst day of this whole trip and I sure hope it will remain so.

It probably would have been okay if we hadn't changed boats. The new one was an old, oily floating thing. The benches wasn't stuck to the floor; interesting on a rocking boat. The engine was louder than a Kiss konsert and made it impossable to have any kind of conversation. After about 13 minutes it gave you a splendid headache.

But it probably would have been okay if it wasn't for the storm. It started about 35 minutes after we left Pak Beng (where we spent the night) and it blew right in our faces for the rest of the trip. Wind, rain, waves, we were all shivering. It was raining so much it was hard to tell the Mekong from the air; both contained an equal amount of water. Luckily the boat had a roof- but no walls.

But it might have been fine if it wasn't for me being conveniently stricken with travellers stomach and had to go to the 'toilet' every thirty minutes or so. Nasty.

But sure enough, I might have survived all of this if I hadn't been lucky enough to catch some kind of strange fever (probably related to the changes in temperature these last days, super cold- super hot- super cold). I have first hand witnesses who can tell you that my lips went a beautiful blue color, nicely accompanying my bright red face. I tell you, I was suffering!

Because of the storm the trip took eleven lovely hours instead of nine and we reached Hoixao in Laos after the boarder to Thailand closed (not that I would have managed to get to the boarder anyways). So I checked into a 2 dollar guesthouse, stuffed myself with painkillers and slept for 12 hours. After a careful breakfast I felt up for taking the boat to Thailand. I'm staying in Thai border town of Chiang Khong for the day to recover and I'll take the bus to Chiang Mai tomorrow.

First thing I did here was taking a Thai massage (yes, Jossan I gave it another chance and it was heavenly!) and after som proper food I feel like a new woman. Also, getting my own bungalow for 100 bath (20kr, 2euro) made my mood rise. Hello Thailand!

I am so glad yesterday is now the past; it surely makes me enjoy the present. After a day like that I name myself a hard-core traveller.

Moving on from the farm and from Ban Phoudindaeng was not easy.  I had an amazing two months and I met some truly facsinating and wonderful people. Allthough not moving fysically this might have been my most rewarding jerney during my stay in Asia. Mentally I have travelled to new grounds and I have grown more than I thought possible.  I am truly grateful to all the people at the farm and the amazing people in Ban Phoudindaeng for showing me how beautiful people can be and for showing me the beauty within myself. I  leave the farm as a new person, a person I have come to like; I trust myself now and I feel I can rely on my own judgement.

There is no such thing as an easy goodbye and I grieve the gooidbyes I had to meke these last few days. To the  wonderful,  cuddly, playful kids in the first class; to Jii  who used to come up to me and  wanted to sit in my lap and to Lii  who had the prettiest most mischievous smile I've ever seen, to Toung  who always cried out the answer to all the questions first and with a smile on his face and to all the other kids who simply were the most lovable  kids I have ever met, dressed in the same torn and dirty  clothes every day and with tangled unwashed hair but still so beautiful.

I will sincerely miss all the students in the second class  who let me be there friend without question. Who treted me as a teacher when it was time for class but as a friend  when  the class finished. Enjoying 'One mah' two mah" and "zero, zero, seven, bah!' and celebrating Pi Mai Lao. Always joking, singing, smiling and openly   welcoming. Good people good friends and I will miss them so much!

Houa,  Yeng, Hai and Ong. If you were born  a little closer we would have been best friends. Hanging out with you  made me forget time. I know you will probably never read this but I really love you. I will call you tonight, I promise!

I am writing from the end of a busy week. 

Pi Mai (Lao New Year) is a three day event. Well really it's a three day drunken waterfight, but it is marvellous and exhausting. For the last day of Pi Mai we thought we'd escape the throwing of water by being in the water so we rented tubes (upplasbara traktordack) in town and took a tuck tuck upstream. We spent the day floating down the Nam Song. Chilled out indeed, but we all got sunburnt and looked like four beetroots. The we I'm mentioning so frequently consists of a very nice group; for the floating it was me, Cameron and a Scottish girl, Chery and her Malysian boyfriend Mysoul. Really, really nice people. We have been a good group of people at the farm for the last week or so, well actually, when Cam and I discussed it is almost always a good group staying at the farm. It is as if all the nicest and most decent people from the traveling scene are being hand picked to come and stay here. I guess that that is kind of close to the truth, since it takes a little scouting to find the farm. The people who find it and makes the effort to come here are either interested in organic farming, English teaching or humanitarian projects and the rest just needs a break from the crowd and all the shit that is actually going on while backpacking. But now I lost my focus...

Oh, yes my busy week....

Wednesday a group of five strong and adventurous explorers set of on a trekk to find out what was actually on the other side of the mountain across the farm (we were very curious). It was the four people mentioned above and the fifth was our guide Marc, an English guy who kind of had been up the mountain before. Sort of. He proved to be an excellent guide though and we had a wonderful day!
Our first task was climbing the razor sharp limestone cliffs that formes the mountain side. Here Marc find it amusing to tell us the story of the last time he'd been up there; the time when Mr. Thi's son in law got bitten by a poisonous snake. "He didn't die, did he!?" "No, don't worry, he was paralyzed from the neck down and spent three weeks in total agony but after that he was fine." By the way; based on a true story.
We continued nonetheless up, up, up hill until we came to the top of the pass. Here we saw some really amazing 'rain'forest (in my world it was rainforest, it had amazingly tall trees and it was very green and damp and it had all the sounds of a proper rainforest). Here Marc choose to tell us about the features of a dengue mosquito which we imidiately recognized as the mosquitos buzzing around our sweaty heads. "Don't worry, dengue fever is not particularly common in Laos, I think."
After surviving bridges made out of a single mouldy log and all the other dangers of the 'rain'forest we reached a vally that was totally burnt. Illegal lodging and slash and burn farming is common here and it was a real pity to see it. All those old beautiful trees, and it's spreading. After that we 'macheted' us through a banana plantation (we didn't actually have a machete, but we sure wished we had one).
After a bit of skillfull pathfinding we made our way out to a beautiful, peacefull vally covered in rice fields and with magnificent mountanious surroundings. It took your breath away. We walked through the vally until we reached the other end. Here Marc presented us with the choice of either climbing a small pass to get back or to go through the cave/ tunnel that goes through the mountain. "But I think I should warn you; there were two Austrailan girls who got lost in there last year. They died from thurst." We decided climbing sounded lika a good idea.
After a beautiful walk in a dryed out river we made our way back to the safety of the farm. We were out for over seven hours but we all had a smile on our faces for the whole time; eventhough it rained for the last half hour and we were all soaking wet. It was a wonderful day!

By the way the sewing shop opened today! The girls had their first costumers for sewing class, five people, and they did a great job. I really believe in this project and I'll tell you all more about it later. Gotta run now though.

And also, I just booked my ticket for Singapore; online (very proud indeed). I'll go there on the 13th of May, so that's the latest news.

Miss and love you.

The water is clear and turqoise, cold but not to cold; refreshing. I sink down to my chin to get used to it before I climb up on my inflatable tube and grab the line which will take me into the cave. My feet touch the water and it feels good on my toes which are hot from biking. I turn on the flashlight, take a deep breath and start to pull the line. Surprisingly easy I move into the cave. Soon there is no more daylight and the only sound I can hear are our own breaths and the drip, drip, dripping of the water. I feel alone eventhough both Andrew and our guide is with me, but alone in a good way; the same kind of loneliness I feel when I'm out jogging on a cold, dark and rainy November evening. It is a feeling I enjoy and I allow myself to sink into it to better be able to grasp the beauty of the surrounding cave.
We leave our tubes on a little sandbank and preceed by foot or rather on our hands and knees. We crawl deep into the tunnel under the mountain, there is water everywhere. One time we stop to marvel at the sight och the light from our flashlights reflected in a million tiny drops of water in the cave ceiling. It looks like a starry winter sky and I stop breathing for a moment. We move on and follow the small canals that has formed the tunnel, we see stalactites and stalagmites in curious shapes and colours, in some rooms the walls sparkle from minerals that I cannot guess the name of. We don't speak.
After what might have been half an hour we come back to our tubes and preceed to paddle our way deeper into the waterfilled tunnel that forms the left part of the cave. The water is so cold and it clears your head and mind. We paddle for about ten minutes in the dark and I cannot keep myself from singing. What begun as a shy humming echoes out in the cave, the sound of the water accompanies my song and I feel very relaxed and content. I look up into the cave ceiling and dream about everything and nothing. The thought hits me that this must be what people seek when they meditate; the serene emptiness that is given to me by the beauty of this cave. Tham Loob.