Em di ve Saigon!

I won’t even hazard a guess at when my last blog post was, nor will I look back to confirm my suspicions that it was stupidly long ago. For your reading pleasure, I will offer a short synopsis of my life since then.
It was an absolute pleasure to have my sister come and visit for four weeks over June and July. She explored Ho Chi Minh City as I finished up my teaching, and in the evenings we enjoyed time with my friends and excellent meals. After, we headed out on a three week venture through Thailand and Laos.
We started out in Luang Prabang, where I fell in love. With the town, that is. It was absolutely beautiful: a pleasantly slow town perched between two meandering rivers. Highlights of our long time in LP include, but are not limited to:
Taking a silk dyeing and weaving course at a cultural arts preservation centre on the bank of the Mekong. We learned how to make natural dyes with a variety of seeds, nuts, leaves, and bark. We then, wove our own small piece of silk.
Trekking to a beautiful waterfall. It has many tiers, for swimming, rope swinging and the like. En route, I enjoyed playing small games with the curious Laotian children. The guide told them to be careful or I would shove them in by backpack and take them home. After I insisted on a translation, I turned around and pointed to my backpack, at which point all the children ran away screaming with a delicate mixture of fear and delight.
Time lounging at “Utopia” a river side haunt, perched on a hill side.
Exploring the many grassroots and development programs sprouting up in the city.
We then took an excruciating night bus into Northern Laos. Not long after we were on the road, the drivers cut the A.C. and cranked the startlingly loud Laotian pop music. We had a silent battled brewing for the entirety of the trip; every time we stopped and they disembarked, I would race to the front and turn the music down. This would be unaltered for about one hour and then those tunes would rise one again. The only positive of this situation was that my lack of sleep allowed me to strike up a friendship with a monk sitting behind me, who also couldn’t find rest. At the conclusion of the trip, he stated, “I have called my parents and you will come to my hometown with me for three days .” I explained kindly that I had already booked my next days, but would gladly do so another time.
The next three days we spent at The Gibbon Experience. These days were absolutely wonderful in mostly every way. The Gibbon Experience is an eco tourism project in the Bokeo jungle of Northern Laos. For three days,a group of eight of us, trekked, ziplinned from mountain range to mountain range (300 feet up), and lived in treehouses (200 feet up). See Facebook photos for a more vivid image of this spectacularness. We met some lovely folks—two of whom taught in a project based, alternative, publically funded school in California. Got me curious. Perhaps one the most exhilarating parts of this venture was showering in the tree houses. Standing 200 feet up, naked to the wilds, made me feel like quite an exhibitionist. Brilliant.
After this, we crossed into Thailand by boat, and made our way to Chiang Mai. We stayed at a large hostel/hotel with a pool. Dara and I enjoyed swims, after sticky days of exploring the city. I woke every morning, early, to run about the city. Most mornings it was usually just myself and the monks collecting their morning alms. I most appreciated the contrast of the barefooted monks with their alms bowls walking under Starbucks and McDonald signs. We attended a session at one Wat called “Monk Chat,” during which you sit with two or three monks and chat about nearly anything. Of course I had a huge slew of questions to ask, and my partner answered thoroughly and gladly. I was able to get some insight into this way of life that characterized much of South East Asian culture. One interesting tidbit I learned was that these monks are no longer entirely vegetarian, for they feel that because their sustenance is provided by the community and the community’s diets have changed, they too must adapt their diet. One of our partners wanted to be a lawyer, and so found Dara to be a kindred.
In Chiang Mai, we also enjoyed taking classes in Thai massage, reflexology, cooking, and yoga. Our cooking class turned us into gluttons for a day, as we pestled, chopped, sliced, and spooned our way through a wide selection of Thai dishes. We also enjoyed wandering through a myriad of bookshops and the expansive Chiang Mai markets (so big they require zones and involved kilometres of street).
From Chiang Mai, we made our way to Phuket where we stayed at the colourful Dara Hotel. Dara, in Thai, means star and so it is a much more visible word than in Canada. Dara revelled in her perfect hotel.
From Phuket to Railay—a water access peninsula known for its beautiful beaches and rock climbing. Dara and I stayed in an out of the way bungalow, went rock climbing with a casual, tiny, Rastafarian Thai man. The views were spectacular and all words will fall short in describing this experience. Dara was able to live out one of her life goals, and I was so happy to be able to accompany her in this. We also took a sea kayaking adventure, ate grilled meat and corn on the beach, went for evening runs along the beaches, and ate lots of mango sticky rice.
After our three weeks of travel, I returned to Canada for three and had an absolutely tiring but lovely time with friends and family. Thanks to all of you for making me feel, through your love and care, as though we hadn’t been separated for a year. I was fortunate enough to have my whole family home for a portion of the time. We took to doing sporting as a collective. Running, swimming, hiking. It was so lovely to have this common interest in fitness, that didn’t span all three of us siblings when we were growing up (that belonged mostly to David). Dara is now doing triathlons!
The first few weeks back have been chaotic, for sure. With two new administrators and 20 new teachers our staff is now immense. We moved into a new temporary facility, while our new school building was being completed. We moved in this past week, while, to be honest, construction was still taking place. We witnessed some unprotected welding (bare-chested, bare-footed, sunglassed men), some free-style painting of heights (read: no safety gear). We get the pleasant white noise of drills every so often, and the pleasant smell of plaster dust. The building is immense—a startling six stories tall. Our Grand Opening Ceremonies were yesterday, which were attended by the Deputy Prime Minister of Vietnam (kind of a big deal!). The events were decidedly Vietnamese in style—confetti shooting out of machines, balloons being released (image the Canadian teachers’ horror at this environmental no-no), drum banging, screaming children, etc. All in all, not as bad as it could have been. For all the insanity, it was a happy day for so many who have put heaps of energy into this massive project. Will the ceremonies over, we can move onto other issues---like how to stop the lockers from toppling over and hydroplaning at high speeds down the corridors during rain storms!
Cheratien and I have been making the 16 km trip to and from school by bike. I have enjoyed witnessing the early morning routines of the streets—bustling markets, intestines being thrown in gutters, chickens tied and waiting on the side of the road to be purchased for a lunch time meal, children pedaling to school, new construction, landfills, and so on. Once at school, we go for a swim at the cultural centre and then get ready for the day. Our bike home sometimes occurs in massive rainfall, at which time my feet are often totally immersed in water, and my body entirely soaked by swampy water. While a challenge, these times prove to be quite fun.
A few weekends ago, I enjoyed time in Mui Ne. We had a small place right on the beach. I fell asleep and woke to the sights and sounds of the South China Sea. The Vietnamese staff were lovely and entirely accommodating. We took a jeep trip to the impressively large sand dunes, red sand hills, and a fishing beach. I enjoyed the fly infested fishing beach. I took up conversation with some women shucking shellfish, who informed me that they process nearly 10 000 a day. The dunes provided excellent exfoliation, as the sand was whipping with fierce force. I found my way to the tallest dune and absolutely marveled at the sight. All in all, a lovely way to spend a few days.

I am thrilled to have the companionship of my dear friend Michelle, in only a few short days. She will be here for ten days. We are going to run a mountain race together on the 25th. Whoot.

I shall try not to let such time pass before my next post! Speaking of post—I love to receive it. My new address is 11C5-8 Sky Garden 3, Phu My Hung, Quan 7, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

Much love!