"If it's the beaches' sands you want then you will have them" or "It's the freakin' weekend, baby, I'm about to have me some fun" or "Send lawyers, guns, and money!"

I am extremely pleased with the three song lyrics I chose for the titles of this blog entry. For the first time since starting this blog, the lyrics do not only relate to the entry. They actually perfectly follow the trajectory of the the past few days in Koh Phangan. This weekend was a perfect mixture of paradise, partying, and police. I couldn't have asked for a better island experience.

Part I: "If it's the beaches' sands you want, then you will have them." For those of you who don't know, Koh Phangan (roughly pronounced "Coh-Pan-Yang") is a beatiful island off the east coast of the country in the Gulf of Thailand. If you've seen the Leonardo DiCaprio film The Beach, some of the scenes were filmed on Koh Phangan. We rented a bungalow within spitting distance of Hat Rin, one of the more popular backpacker beaches on the island. I never consider myself much of a beach person until I find myself on one, and then I love it. Hat Rin is a resort for young travelers. It's cheap, breathtakingly gorgeous, and an absolute blast. To some degree, I think that if you've seen one beach, you've seen them all. I'm not going to waste much time describing it, but here are some photos I took:

Part II: "It's the freakin' weekend, baby, I'm about to have me some fun." The island of Koh Phangan is probably best known for its internationally renowned party scene. Once a month, travelers from all over the world decend on Hat Rin for the Full Moon Party, a festival that used to be, as Lonely Planet describes, "a Southeast Asian Burning Man" but has since turned into a spring break boozefest. We were unable to coincide our trip with this month's Full Moon (on the 19th), but that's probably for the best. We managed to hit the Half Moon Party, a slightly smaller affair (though still insane). It's part jungle rave, part Panama City, part circus, part hippie music festival, and a hearty dose of European discoteque. It was quite a scene, and we did not return to our Hat Rin bungalow until the sun was up well over the horizon.

Certainly, I had an amazing time at the Half Moon Party, but the better parties occurred nightly on the beach. Each and every night, scores of bar vendors line the beach. Several more establishment bars blare loud house/dance remixes of famous pop songs. Local teenagers spin, spit, and twirl fire. There is a non-stop parade of games (fire limbo, fire jump rope, fire spitting, musical chairs, etc etc). We did that every night on the beach. It was all quite a blast. Here are some photos of the absurd parties we attended:

Fire twirler





Half Moon Party

Part III: "Send lawyers, guns, and money!" Brace yourself, because this is one of the crazier experiences I've ever had, and certainly the most absurd that has occurred on this trip. Before I get into it, though, here is a disclaimer (primarily for my mom, aunts, sister, and others): nobody was ever in any actual physical danger. In some sense, we always knew that. The only real question was, "How much will we have to pay?" As you read on, keep that in mind.

On Saturday night, we were all on Hat Rin as usual, drinking and hanging out. Josh, Grant, and I were walking from one end of the beach to The Cactus, the best dance bar in the area. Out of nowhere, a Thai police officer in a green uniform (the color becomes important) walks up to us and begins hassling us. Before we knew it, he led Grant up to the street, put him on the back of a motorbike, and drove him away. Still in shock, Josh and I went to assess the situation with some of the friendly bartenders we had come to know. They saw the whole scene, and they told us that Grant was "arrested" on a drug offense (falsely) and would have to pay up to a $1000 bribe. According to them, it would help if we went to the police station to make our presence known.

So, we woke up Mike and headed to the Hat Rin police station. There was nobody there except one guard in civilian clothing, who happened to be asleep on a bench. He told us to check the larger jail at Thongsala. This we did, hiring a taxi to take us to the other side of the island and wait there for us. When we arrived, the police told us that they had no record of Grant getting arrested. They called all of their police, and nobody had heard of him (supposedly). Furthermore, the Hat Rin police are supposed to wear brown uniforms, not green. At this point, they became much more concerned, as did we, because it started to look like Grant had been kidnapped by fake police.

We went back to guest house, where Grant was stressed out and chain-smoking cigarettes. I will not go into the details of his experience (because I'm tired and don't entirely know what happened myself). However, it probably involved all of the following: (1) Grant getting taken to a secluded alley off of the beach and handcuffed to a chair. (2) A strip search. (3) Police smoking pot in front of Grant in a strange sort of taunting manner. (4) Grant getting an ultimatum between a year in prison, a $300 fine, and a game of Russian Roulette (no kidding!). Keep in mind, too, these are all on false charges, and it's going on while the police at the station are currently on the horn to all of their people trying to figure this out.

Obviously, Grant went with the $300 fine (AKA bribe), but he only had a little bit of money on him. Even his checking account was fairly empty (only around $150 in it), so one of the "officers" escorted him to the ATM and cleaned him out. By the time we caught up with Grant at the bungalow, we pieced all of our stories together. The "cop" was supposed to come back in the morning for the rest of the money, but he had apparently been checking in periodically with Grant since they dropped him off. When the corrupt bastard came around again, Josh had enough money to cover the rest of the extortion. We all had to bite our tongues to not make the situation worse. Anyway, the guy drove away, and that was the last we saw of him. The only looming question is whether or not they were corrupt real police or clever fake police. I suppose we'll never know for sure.

This is a somewhat common horror story in Thailand. It's in all of the guide books. Because drug laws are so strict here now, corrupt officials can take advantage of language barriers and traveler's fears to drum up charges and line their own pockets. It's pretty ridiculous. Again, though, we were never in any real danger. I can hear you worrying (I'm looking at you, mom and Aunt Sharon), so please don't.
So that's about it for our weekend in Koh Phangan. It was a few days filled with picturesque beaches, tropical parties, and hearty dose of extortion at the hands of non-police (or, at the very best, corrupt police). Quite crazy. I'm glad to be back in Bangkok after another long travel itinerary featuring taxis, buses, and sleeper trains.

I am finally leaving Thailand in the next couple of days to head north. I have heard that internet is quite scarce where I'm going, so it may be a couple of weeks before I can update this blog. Rest assured that, as soon as I get to an internet cafe, I'll keep you all posted. Still having a great time, and still saying safe (believe it or not). Hope all is going well back home.

"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."

.

"Where rocking horse people eat marshmellow [Pai]s" or "Chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool..."

Pai (pronounced "Pie") is quite a town. The downtown is very small, only a couple of main roads, and each night it turns into a walking street with food vendors, souvenir/trinket stalls, and different types of street performers. According to Lonely Planet and some of the stuff I've heard, Pai used to be a random mountain village. As with all good things, it got picked up by tourists, and it is now a relatively common destination for hippies along the trail. There are probably more dreadlocks per capita here than I've seen since Bonnaroo. In spite of the many travelers in this area, though, the town still has its own unique charm, and it doesn't feel as though the place is being run by travelers.

We booked a small bungalow by the river for our three nights there. It was at a place called Edible Jazz, which is off the main road and run by two elderly Thai hippies and a young Israeli woman. Between the shaded common area, the friendly owners, the great music that played all day, and the pet dogs that roamed around the grounds, Edible Jazz had an atmosphere that left little to be desired:

The grounds at Edible Jazz, our guest house.

Our humble bungalow.

As our guide book readily admits, there isn't a whole lot to do inside the town of Pai except roam the streets gorging oneself on the fried foods and sweets (which doesn't make for a bad day). What truly attracts tourists to Pai is the scenerey of the land that surrounds the town. Rolling green mountains flank Pai on all sides, and there is a lot of great trekking and hiking there. Our second day, we rented some motorbikes and went riding through the outlying areas. We did some really great hiking, visited a waterfall, soaked in a natural hot springs, and climbed Pai Canyon for sunset. I always forget how much I enjoy hiking until I am out doing it again. The views were wonderful, the weather was perfect, and the motorbikes were pretty fun as well:

Me looking like an idiot on a motorbike.

Epic dog.

Pai Canyon before sunset.

Sunset at Pai Canyon.

The next day, we just stayed in town. For a few hours, we went down to the river behind our bungalow. If the Vietnam scenes in Forest Gump had starred Wavy Gravy and Jerry Garcia, this is what the set of that film might have looked like. The guest house owner was bathing the dogs in the water, there were scattered people sunbathing, there was a sunflower garden on a sandbar, and everything around seemed to be made out of bamboo. We had a relaxing time lounging by the river for a few hours:

The walking street is cool, too. If Khao San Road in Bangkok is a crazy traveler's ghetto on speed, it feels like the main roads of Pai have taken a strong sedative. It's very calm and slow. In fact, many of the tourist souvenirs (shirts, stickers, etc.) have slogans like "Slow Down, Save Pai" or "Life is Slow in Pai." And in the few days I spent there, it definitely seemed to live up to that reputation. Here's one photo of the walking street at night:

I very much enjoyed Pai. It's a clean, small, friendly town, and I did not feel like my presence was somehow ruining the economy or the character of the place. Just when I feel that I've gotten off the irresponsible tourist track, though, we turn around 180 degrees and head down to Koh Phangan for the Half Moon Party (I'm in transit currently). It should be pretty fun and crazy. Grant has rented us a bungalow right on the beach, so I expect a very fun couple of days. More to come.

"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."


.

"Leavin' on the midnight train" or "Movin' to the country, gonna eat me a lot of peaches."

A few days ago, Mike and I left Bangkok for the north of Thailand. We began our journey at the Bangkok train station, a huge building where the ecclectic conversations of monks, locals, and travelers echo off of the high ceilings. It's a very cool scene. People all heading in different directions to attend to different business and adventures:

Our particular train was headed for the north of the country in Chiang Mai. It's a long ride (~14 hours), so we bought passage in one of the sleeper cars. It was one of the nicer trains I've ever traveled on:

  

We had the top bunks. Below me was a European guy who didn't say much on the ride. Below Mike, though, was an older woman who was friendly and quite willing to talk with us about her travels and ours. As fortune would have it, she is a Nepali woman who has lived in Kathmandu for many years. What's more, she used to be in the tourism industry to lead trekkers through the Himalayas and other natural areas in Nepal. I told her all about my research interests in the country. Not only did she give us a list of off-the-beaten-path treks to check out once we arrive in Nepal (like the nation's largest ice fall that tourists don't typically find), she also gave me her contact info and told us to email her when we arrive in Kathmandu so that we might meet up for more travel suggestions. It was another one of those serendipitous situations that happens while traveling. Of all the sleeper trains in all the world, I happened upon the car that had a friendly Nepali woman to help me with traveling and potentially establish more contacts in the region, which could potentially come in handy in my academic future. I can't quite explain how these types of things always happen while traveling, but such providence seems to occur with some degree of regularity. Because Asia is such a well worn region for travelers, it's easy to meet people who have already hit some of the places on our itinerary. Meeting a native Nepali woman who knows all of the great treks in the nation, though, was a pretty wonderful surprise.

We arrived in Chiang Mai at around 10 in the morning. Nora met us at the train station. Within moments of entering the city, I could sense the difference from the bustle of Bangkok. There are tons of tourists here, to be sure, but the city has a much more laid back feel to it. The whole of the old city is literally surrounded by a moat, which is only 6 kilometers all the way around. Nora lives inside the moat, so we're never too far from any place in the city. Here's the moat:

 

Our first night in Chiang Mai, we headed to the city's famous Night Bazaar. It's basically just a large market at night, and the stuff being sold is actually relatively expensive (compared to other markets and such). However, it's worth it just to look around. There are lights and live music going on everywhere, so it was really a great scene:

 

We also passed a temple, which I think is a pretty well-known one in the city (I haven't gotten around to looking it up, but I think I've seen photos of it around). Again, that's one of the best parts of traveling around Asia (or Europe, for that matter). It seems like everywhere you turn, there's a bit of centuries-old architecture or religious iconography. Traveling in places like this puts America's age in perspective. We're really quite a young country, and you have about a 0% chance of turning a corner and seeing something like the Notre Dame, the Vatican, or things like this:

It's fantastic to simply walk around a given city and see something breathtaking down any one of the narrow side streets. The Nepali woman on the train lived in Los Angeles for a stint many years back, and as we spoke about it she bemoaned what she called the "Mall Culture" of America and certain cities like Bangkok. Even the most hyper-patriotic among you can probably see her point. In Chiang Mai, you buy food on the streets, in locally-owned restaurants, or at the markets. America has its share of farmer's markets and co-op groceries, but they are far out-sold by the Wal-Marts and chain restaurants. Truthfully, I'm not making any judgments. It's neither good nor bad. In fact, it's probably a bit of both. I ate at a McDonald's two nights ago. I shop at fast food restaurants and chain groceries as much or more than the average American, so, once again, I'm just a complainer who has no delusions about his own hypocrisy.

I had a moment of connection on the train with the older Nepali woman. We were discussing the Chinese embassy in Kathmandu, which happens to be right next to where I stayed on my trip to Nepal in 2008. I said, "You mean right near the Bhatbateni supermarket?" She nodded, and Mike was shocked that a supermarket could be enough of a landmark to trigger understanding. The woman proceeded to explain that more super-stores like it are threatening the magic of Kathmandu, and they're always increasing in numbers. Again, not necessarily good or bad, but it's an interesting thought to consider.


These past two blog entries seem to have taken turns toward negativity, and that's not at all what I mean to do. I don't want to join the ranks of what Sarah Palin calls the "blame America first" crowd. I'm not in that camp. In truth, it's not easy to place blame with any nation or entity in particular. Again, these are just the realities of modernity and globalization.


It's beautiful to see cities like Chiang Mai that are still relatively run with local blood. There are tons of expats and travelers, but it doesn't feel like it has ruined the character of the city. I can see why they moved here, and it's not just because it's inexpensive. It's a great feeling to be able to walk down the street and know the person who cooks your food. At the end of the day, expatriation might be as simple as that in many cases.


Here are some more photos of Chiang Mai:

Reggae Alley, a series of backpacker bars that all feature mostly reggae-infused music. We've come here several times so far.

The view from the guest house Mike and I are staying in.

Our room at the guest house. Around $6-$7 each per night.

A fairly typical garden outside someone's home.

A narrow street near our guest house.

Well, that's about all I've got for now. Tomorrow, we three are leaving Chiang Mai for Pai, a smaller city in the north that is supposed to be pretty great. I will talk to all of you very soon, and I look forward to hearing from you!

"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."


.

"The tourists come and stare at us" or "Oooo Heaven is a place on earth."

I literally just spent about 20 minutes trying to come up with good song lyrics to use as the title for this blog entry. I'm only somewhat satisfied with my choices, but there aren't a whole lot of pop songs about visiting Buddhist monuments and temples. Anyway...

A couple of days ago, I decided to go out on my own to check out some of the sights around Bangkok. Grant, Josh, and Mike had already seen a great deal of them, so I woke up earlier than them and headed out. About 4 hours and many taxi, tuk tuk, ferry, and train rides later, I felt very glad that I did. It was a hot day, but I got nearly all of the major religious tourist sights taken care of in one fell swoop.

The first stop was Wat Arun (Temple of the Dawn), a huge, steep structure that you can hike to the top of and get a fantastic view of the city. It's not too shabby as seen from the ground level, either. Here's was one of the first photos that I took that day:

Then I obviously wanted to hike to the top of the temple. When you get there, there is a beautiful yellow-orange cloth wrapped around the whole structure. Nearly all of writing on the cloth is in Thai, but it's mostly religious people leaving little prayers and notes. It's breezy up there, so watching it ripple in the wind is a pretty breathtaking sight. Here's a photo that hardly does it justice:

After Wat Arun, I hopped on a ferry to cross the river. The boat let me off right at Wat Pho, the amazing temple that houses Thailand's largest statue of the Reclining Buddha. I visited this temple while I was here on Semester at Sea, but it's sort of a must-see when you're in Bangkok. The Reclining Buddha represents Siddhartha's final passage into Nirvana, and the enormous statue at Wat Pho is something of an iconic symbol  in Thailand. It's hard to describe how beautiful it is to see in real life. It's gigantic and gold-colored with mother-of-pearl designs all over its back and feet. It takes up the entire building that houses it. When you initially walk in, you almost miss the forest through the trees. It takes a split second before you realize that all the gold you're seeing is the statue itself. Here's the best picture I could get:

After Wat Pho, I made a brief stop at the Lucky Buddha. To be frank, there was nothing terribly striking about that one. It was beautiful, to be sure, but it was average size and did not particularly stand out. However, next week marks the Chinese New Year, which is a big deal for a lot of people in Thailand, and the Lucky Buddha plays into that, I think.

After that, I went to Wat Indrawiharn, more commonly known as the Standing Buddha. This one is much less attended than Wat Pho's Reclining Buddha, and I'm not entirely sure why. As soon as I saw it, I was instantly reminded of that huge statue of Jesus in Brazil. It's really big, and I loved that there weren't a ton of other tourists around. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of charge by the time I got there, so I had to lift this picture off of Google:

One thing I love about visiting all of these religious monuments is the fact that they are all still in practical use. It's not just some outdated, obsolete religious structure that is only frequented by tourists like myself. When you visit these temples, you will see plenty of Thai laypeople as well as robed monks paying their respects to the Buddha. It's really amazing to watch all of those people kneel before the shrines to pray. Coupled with the scent of sweet incense, it's all quite a scene.

As always, the tourist-local dichotomy arises, too. It's a bit strange visiting these temples to snap photos of these places that are deeply important to the local communities. Of course, I can always rationalize it away quite easily by acknowledging the fact that my tourist entrance fees go directly to preserving and maintaining such beautiful places. However, it's still a troublesome dynamic. I suppose it would be the equivalent of a host of Japanese tourists walking into a Sunday church service in the U.S. and quietly snapping photos. Needless to say, all traveling is done with the best of intentions. We visit these places not to exploit them--and certainly not to destroy them--but, as I once heard Anthony Bourdain muse, "I'm afraid sometimes that because we take pleasure in showing people with these cameras how beautiful the place is that we help to destroy it. I hope we don't."

To be fair, all of the places I have visited thus far are established tourist destinations. I intend to make it off the beaten path a little bit in the coming months, but that's nearly impossible to do in Bangkok. Countless tourists have blazed this trail before me in the past decades. And, certainly, tourism is a huge industry in Thailand, and it pumps in a lot of money into the economy. But what makes me a bit ill at ease is the fact that giving money to the Thai economy has little to do with my motives in this country. I am traveling largely because I feel wonder and curiosity about places like this. So what does it mean for me--a white, non-religious, American--to snap photos of these awe-inspiring religious monuments alongside local Thais who are earnestly attempting to perform their sacred religious rites?

As I mentioned in my last entry, though, these are simply the realities of the modern world. For better or for worse, we are all connected through internet connections, social media, and economic interdependence. The last vestiges of unexplored corners of the earth have all but disappeared. At this point, we can only hope to interact and experience each other with a strong sense of moral responsibility. Like it or not, the histories of places like Southeast Asia are plagued by exploitation, colonial imperialism, and violence at the hands of Western powers. At least now, I guess we can count our blessings that the modern tourists in Bangkok mean no harm to the people and visit with a sense of awe and reverence. It allows me to rationalize this trip, but it's also a very real silver lining to a largely dark cloud of globalization in the marginal world.

OK, too heavy. I miss you all, and I can't wait to see you soon.

"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."


.

"A man walks down the street. It's a street in a strange world."

I arrived safely in Bangkok and made it Grant's apartment with no difficulty. After some catching up, we went out for drinks at the Happy Beer Garden, a great tourist bar. It's a pretty typical looking Thai bar--bright lights, loud music, cheap drinks, a great open-air table area, and European tourists all over the place. The Happy Beer Garden is managed by their friend (and now my friend) Bee, one of the most fun, outgoing people I've met in awhile. You can clearly tell that she loves her job. The best part of all is that we get all kinds of free stuff. My first night, she brought us all kinds of food (roasted nuts, fresh fruit, and some other things that I could not quite identify). Last night, I bought 3 beers, and she ended up returning later with Thai Saki to drink with us. I really enjoy hanging out there because there seems to be no risk of getting taken advantage of or hustled, which is always a danger here.

The apartment (and the Happy Beer Garden) are both within walking distance of Patpong. For those of you who have been to Patpong, it really needs no explanation. If you have heard some of my stories from Semester at Sea, you might recognize the name. Suffice it to say that Patpong is a touristy bar district of the red light persuasion. There are a great number of "normal" bars there, so we had a good time. But it's hard to go more than a few minutes without having a "lady-boy" approach with come-ons. It's about the most ridiculous scene that I can imagine. As soon as we sat down at the bar, the reality of the whole situation started to sink it. I suddenly realized that my trip truly had begun, and that I would not be returning home for quite sometime. It was an exciting realization. As I said in my first post, there is something that I love so much about being surrounded by foreign people in completely alien settings. One can say a lot of negative things about Patpong (certainly I would), but it is definitely an alien setting. It has a crazy attitude about it. It feels as though anything goes--because most things apparently do. Needless to say, it's easy to get into trouble there, so I kept my guard up throughout. I cannot say the same for many of the travelers in that district.

That's one interesting thing about Bangkok. Because there are so many tourists here, certain neighborhoods cater directly to them. Some, like Patpong, are based solely around disreputable businesses. Others, like Khao San, are based more around bar culture (though it has it's share of illicit practices also). Obviously, these places are blast to visit. There are cheap drinks and absurd things to experience. However, it's definitely a shame that so many people never really leave those areas. The first time I was in Bangkok, we tried to go off and do interesting cultural things. Furtheremore, we did all the touristy things like visit the Grand Palace and do river cruises, etc etc. This trip, I will do that again. It's nice that Grant's apartment is in "real" Thailand. It's a business district of sorts. It's not as exciting as places like Patpong of Khao San, but it definitely feels a bit more authentic. The truth about Bangkok is that it's just a huge city like any other--skyscrapers and El trains. It has a whole lot of cool things that you can't find anwhere else, but, in some completely backward way, it's nice to live down the street from a Pizza Hut and near chic shopping areas. I am as critical as anyone of the homogenization of culture across the globe. Regardless of my opinion, though, that's the reality of the 21st century, cyber-connected, globalized world. So, in a certain sense, it's nice to get that "authentic" Thai experience, as mundane and generic as they might seem compared to the faux-authenticities of tourist districts.

In truth, though, I'm not even close to being above tourists districts. We went to Khao San last night, and I had Semester at Sea flashbacks at every turn. Khao San is an unbelievable place, and I cannot even think of words to explain it. If you haven't ever seen pictures (or seen the movie The Beach), you should look it up. It's a really crazy place with hostels and street vendors and knock-off clothing and bars and ex-pats. Every night ushers in another crazy party with crowds of tourists who come and go constantly. So, when I rant about homogenaity and tourist traps, take it with several grains of salt. I love frequenting those places as much as the next guy.

Last night, before we went to Happy Beer Garden and (later) Khao San, Grant's friend Ging invited us four to a dinner boat on the river. It was a beautiful scene. We got to meet all of Ging's friends, and they all came out with us later. The boat was beautiful, and the food was extremely inexpensive and delicious. Here's the boat, as seen from our long table of about 13 people:



In addition to Ging and her Thai friends, we met Trisha and Allan, an older couple (probably in their 60s or 70s) from England. They have been to Bangkok 13 times, and they are about the most adventuresome older couple I've ever met. When it came time to go to the Happy Beer Garden, they came along, too. Not only did they keep up with the drinking habits of a group of 22-year olds, they were interesting and friendly the whole night through. As I've said in the past, one of my favorite aspects as a traveler is meeting other foreign travelers and having great conversations with them. I had another such connection with this random Finnish guy last night at the bar. There's a certain camaraderie among travelers. I will probably never see that guy again, and I doubt that I'll run into Trisha and Allan ever again, but it was a fun night while it lasted. And that's really all it's expected to be. It's a pretty cool scene, though: 4 Americans, 1 Finnish guy, 2 elderly English people, and around 8 Thais, all brought together by no other reason than to have a good time and meet other interesting people. I didn't get any photos of them, but here is one of we four with three of their better Thai friends:



At the Happy Beer Garden. Back (left to right): Mike, me, and Grant. Front (left to right): Josh, Ging (the woman who took us to the boat dinner), Bee (the manager of Happy Beer Garden), and Pi Mai (a good friend of Ging's)

Perhaps the most fun person I have met so far is Leanna, Ging's adorable 3-year-old daughter. We met at the boat dinner, and she has personality like I have never seen on a young kid like that. All 4 of us Americans could not stop talking to her and playing with her. She really is hilarious. When we all went to the bars, Ging surprised us all by bringing Leanna along with us, where she proceeded to stay out until around 1 o'clock (which is aparently relatively common here). What's more, she enjoys drinking beer. Don't call child services--she wan't drinking a lot, and she wasn't drunk. BUT, she loves making toasts and clicking glasses when Americans yell "Cheers!" Honestly, it was one of the most adorable things I have ever seen in my entire life. Needless to say, I needed a photo:

Me and Leanna toasting. She's sitting on the lap of one of Ging's good friends, whose name I did not catch.

I had a blast hanging out with her and everyone else. There are plenty more cute pictures of her on my camera.

Well, that's about all for now. We're having a lazy day because Grant has some schoolwork to do. I'm not sure when the next update will come, but just know that I'm having a great time and am keeping safe. By the way, if you happen to look up Patpong, rest assured that none of us partook in the shadier facets of that district. Probably best for everyone involved. I miss you all, and I look forward to hearing from you.

"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."

.

"Leaving on A Jet Plane" or "Here I Go Again on My Own" or "I'm not done with my traveling, so let's run, let's run, let's run!"

The time has finally come for me to leave the United States again. I have not done any international traveling since my study abroad experience with Semester At Sea, and this trip already feels a bit surreal. After weeks of playing tug-o-war with my insurance company and CVS, I finally have 6 months worth of medications to sustain me throughout my travels. After countless unreturned emails and phone calls to various graduate programs to which I have applied (so far unsuccessfully), I have tied up all of the loose ends and instructed them to contact me only via email. My Peace Corps interview has wrapped up, and I have said a great many goodbyes to family and friends.

After all of that, my journey is poised to begin.

This is the first blog that I have ever kept.  Typically, I keep personal journals (both during my travels and at home in America) and communicate with people via email. However, after much persuasion from various people, I’ve decided to give blogging a shot. I’m sure it’s easier for everyone else, and I don’t want to flood anyone’s inbox with unwanted update emails. If you do want to have more personal communication, which I would certainly welcome and appreciate, you can all email me at bjlinder@umail.iu.edu. Other than that, this blog should be a place where anyone interested can periodically check up on the basics of my journey—what I’m doing, who I’m with, where I am, etc etc.

So where to begin?

As I wrote in the introduction, this trip already feels a bit surreal. I think a big part of that is the fact that I am not returning to school with the majority of my friends. I still do not really feel like I have graduated from college, so I feel more like a dropout than an opportunistic graduate taking advantage of a convenient window in “real world” time. Being in Bloomington as a non-student and attending classes started to make this reality sink in a bit, but I still feel like I have something more important, more goal-oriented, more “real” to be doing than traipsing off to Southeast Asia. Luckily, I’m wrong about this for the most part. My applications are sent, my real life is on hold, and all of my loose ends are tied.

In addition to all of that, though, it’s hard for me to conceptualize what it will be like to be dropped off in the bustle of Asian cities once again. It’s such a different reality from the one I’m currently experiencing in Carmel, Indiana. I feel as though I am attempting to prepare for a long dream, the content of which I can’t possibly foresee. A lame analogy, but pretty accurate, I think.

It’s currently 4:30 AM. In a little over an hour, my mom will drive me to the airport, where I will board a United flight to (drum roll)… Chicago. Less than an hour later, I will touch down.

Barring any snow-related complications in Chicago, I will board a Korean Airlines flight to Seoul, South Korea at about 11 AM. This is the longest leg of my travel itinerary, weighing in at a whopping 14 hours. That’s definitely the most grueling single flight I’ve ever taken, so we’ll see how that goes.

After a brief layover in Seoul, I will board one last flight that will ultimately drop me off in Bangkok, Thailand, where my journey can really begin.

Again, I’m not sure what to expect once I arrive in Thailand. Grant, Mike, and Josh seem to be having a great time there, and I am terribly eager to join them in their adventures around Bangkok. Obviously, I’ll have more details once I’m actually there… so feel free to check back at this blog every once in awhile.

Without knowing any specifics, I can comfortably say one thing: I am VERY excited. If you’re reading this post, then you probably know me well enough to know that traveling is absolutely my favorite thing to do in the entire world. It’s not even dependant on a particular destination. I could go anywhere in the world and feel largely the same high. Too often, people don’t seem to understand what attracts me to traveling. Mostly, it’s my fault because I have such a tough time explaining it. There is something so incredible and empowering and reaffirming about the whole endeavor. From drinking with Europeans in Asian bars to visiting NGOs along the way, traveling really is about seeing new corners of the world and feeling a sense of connectedness with wherever you are.

OK, this is already getting too cliché and way too preachy. I mean it sincerely, though. I really love traveling, and I appreciate the support and encouragement everyone has offered, even when they don’t exactly understand why. I look so forward to this journey, as I will surely never undertake one like it again in my life. If you enjoy reading about it, all the better.

I will truly miss you all while I’m gone, and I cannot wait to catch up when I get back.

As Garrison Keillor always signs off, “Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”

(Yes. I am shamelessly ripping off Garrison Keillor. Deal with it.)