My clothes arrived from Vietnam today! I'm flipping my shit. Winter coat, spring jacket, knee-length skirt, ankle-length skirt, tank top, strappy top, pants, and embroidered dress. Sneakers, sandals, and heels.
All. Tailor. Made.
I just did a fashion show for The Boy. He reacts poorly to anything I buy because, you know, there are people starving in the world and I could do better things with my money. But this time he didn't even give me the lecture! He just said, "No way! That coat only cost $14! But it's great!"
This is a glorious, glorious day. Tomorrow, when I get to initiate some of the new clothes, might just be even better. I'm going knitting in my new pants. Yes sir, I am.
It feels great to be home.
Things It Has Been Hard to Adjust To:
1. Parisian Time
I slept 14 hours last night to recover from jet lag. I only slept three hours on the plane, and had technically left my crib in Bangkok at 10 am, Bangkok time. I arrived at my house at 10 am, Parisian time, which would have made a sweet 24 hours of travel, if it weren't for those six hours between Paris and Bangkok. All in all, anything over 10 hours of travel is bound to screw up your body's rhythm so royally that you will need TWO average nights of sleep to make up for it. 14 hours it was, then.
2. Anything other than veggies-and-rice to eat
Starving because the only thing I had eaten in my 30 hours of travel was a bowl of noodles, I hopped downstairs and bought myself an emergency baguette and cheese. Then I considered puking it all back up again for about three hours as I writhed on my bed in pain. We went with the very wise veggie soup for dinner, which settled much better than the now unfamiliar bread-and-cheese combo. I am, however, planning on doing a strict recovery process in order to get my bod into it's usual love of the low-nutrient and high-calorie baguette and cheese.
3. French
Covered in swollen bedbug bites - something about flying irritated them - I went to the pharmacy. The pharmacist, naturally, spoke French, us being in Paris and all. But oddly enough, I didn't do so hot in the French department. And she was a chatty one, too, so we had quite the conversation ("how did you get so many damn bites in the first place?" opened a big can of worms) and I was amazed at how the language seems to have turned to mush in my brain in just a few short weeks. Still, she gave me an anti-itch cream, a dehydrating solution, and some pills, and by golly, the bites are going away. Ever. So. Slowly.
4. Duties
I have many things I have to do, and honestly, no urge to do them. While I was away, I remember thinking about these things and getting really anxious, almost excited to get these important things out of my hair. But now, back in my semi-normal groove, I'm just not excited by the idea of doing anything quasi-official. This includes going to the Sorbonne and telling them they made a database error, which is not going to be well-received by the incompetant secretaries.
5. French Keyboards
Five weeks is all it takes to put the a,q, m, period, and comma keys all in the wrong places in my head.
Things that Have Been Easy to Adjust To:
1. The Boy
Naturally, I wanted to see him very badly. When I came home, he was still sleeping, and his reaction to my arrival was anticlimactic, as it entailed him swatting my kiss on his cheek away as if I were a fly. Then he realized I was either one helluva a fly, or his cherie, and he woke up and said, "La Frontera! La Frontera! (his nickname for me) You've come home! I need to sleep some more." But two hours later, he woke up and we didn't stop talking for at least six hours straight, so I'm glad he was well-rested.
2. The bed
My bed is the most glorious bed on the planet. Although I haven't yet been to South America or Australia, I can declare this with a fair amount of certainty.
3. The weather
The Boy said yesterday that it seemed really muggy outside, but I felt that everything seemed quite refreshingly cool. I can really dig this sunny-but-not-humid thing for quite awhile.
4. The toilet
Never underestimate the power of toilet paper, toilet seats, and having a door that closes.
5. The phone
I called Kathypath last night in a zoned-out, exhausted mood, but our conversation was good nonetheless. Today, I can't wait to hear my parents' voices, and later I am going to call Omar in Paris to see what she's up to. It's so great to have friends and family within reasonable reach.
So this is going to be a nice, relaxing week, inch'Allah. I have a few things to take care of, but mainly I plan on enjoying myself and hanging out with Omar and The Boy as much as possible. I have to work on both of my web sites a little bit, and I have a book to finish. The Little Guy is coming on Friday with his mom and brothers, and then he'll stay and hang with us for a few days as well. Maybe we'll go to the park or something. I don't know, and don't really care... I'm just glad to be home.
I have to go grocery shopping now because we have nothing 'tall. I plan on buying all the fresh fruits and vegetables a woman can get her hands on in this country because I can't wait to eat some. It really is the little things in life that make a girl happy after so long away.
On our last day in Asia, we had a plan.
1. Eat breakfast
2. Get photos developed
3. Shop some more
4. Get a massage
5. Get a facial
6. Shower thoroughly
7. Sleep
It might seem like that's not very much to do on one's last day, but our grubbiness factor was increased tenfold over the last week, to the point where I just tossed some of my clothes in the garbage can (outside the room) because I couldn't sit in my own stink anymore. To ease the comedown of the end of one of the most wonderful trips of my life, we decided that full-on pampering was the only way to go.
This week we spent on an island in a cabin with no electricity and a very unconventional plumbing system. It rained the entire time, or almost. Back in Bangkok yYesterday, we spent seven hours in the market, tying up loose ends and arranging gifts. Today, we finish the shopping frenzy and get our bodies back to a presentable status, after the beating it took from the island. Tomorrow, we ride planes and sit in airports.
This morning, armed with our plan as we walked out of our guesthouse, I turned to Kara and asked if she had remembered to bring the film because we were going to go get it developed a bit later. Without a word, we turned back to the guesthouse and tredged up the stairs. Kara started feeling around in her bag, and the searching got a bit more frantic, and then it plateaued into a sort of lethargic acceptance that we had lost our film. We went over the lost photos and sat, depressed, amongst the upturned contents of Kara's bag. We had little documentation of our trip.
Our assumption was that the film fell out en route to somewhere. I asked her when she last remembers seeing it, and it was over a week ago. Deseperate, I suggested we call the owner of the guesthouse where we stayed in Cambodia, and that we also check with the guesthouses we stayed at earlier this week in Bangkok.
There were two, next door to one another, because we had switched after a night since one of them was just full of drunk 18-year-olds. Kara went to one, and I to the other.
In all our trip, Thais speak the best English by far. But I don't think they know the word film. I spent at least five minutes explaining, sure that they didn't have it anyway. They asked me for my room number, but I didn't know. Finally, I said, "Small plastic bag with four film."
I swear the moment she pulled it out of the drawer I thought I was hallucinating. I breathed in and exclaimed a breathy "Thank you!" followed by a more squeely version as I realized our long lost film had been recovered. I flew out of there and ran down the street to the other guesthouse, where I saw Kara gesturing to a young boy (she later told me that she had been referred to him when the other people at the guesthouse didn't understand the word film). "Kara!" I waved, triumphantly holding up the plastic bag.
We giggled and thanked God and replayed the morning all the way to the film developing place. I just couldn't believe they kept it, couldn't believe the guesthouse had it after all.
In fact, I'm totally ok with that guesthouse now, even though their mattresses had bedbugs and I am covered in bites.
So we're going home in high spirits. I can't wait to see the miracle photos later on this evening. I'm excited to pack up my stuff and head home. I wrote my final email to The Boy, letting him know I'd see him in about 48 hours. I've got great memories, some jazzy gifts, and PICTURES! It's been quite an adventure, but I'm ready to get back to the land of toilet paper and fresh vegetables.
Thailand = tourists.
That's our overall feeling.
Here's how it worked: we took the most painful bus ride in history out of Cambodia. The roads were full of potholes, and at one point our driver had to get out and set up some sort of contraption to get us out of a major rut. On the other side of the road, a truck was unpacking all of the bags of rice it was transporting, hoping the lighter weight would help it get out where it was stuck just spinning its wheels. Our bus and their truck sat in the mud for at least 20 minutes, but we made it through in the end. The whole ride was quite an adventure.
The girls on the Cambodian bus all rode for six hours holding their breasts. The road was so bumpy, we couldn't possibly do the ride any other way. It created an odd sort of comraderie... six hours of not even being able to hold a conversation through the jarring and rattling of the bus. When we finally spilled out of the bus, we all sat around on wooden benches, just staring into space and allowing our intestines to reorganize themselves.
Then we crossed the border into Thailand. Suddenly, the roads were paved, and we were being given an entire double-decker bus for ten people. The excitement of the new bus was pathetic, in retrospect. After such a harrowing bus ride out of Cambodia, we were like kids on a playground, checking out the bus with exclamations of, "Oh! And the seat reclines!" and "Oh look! The windows are clean!"
This made me initially love Thailand, but after being here for a few days, I've decided I prefer the road less travelled. Cambodia wasn't trampled by tourists, and I didn't feel as if I were just a part of the greedy, poorly-dressed western masse that had come to invade the country. Thailand, however, feels like grounds for one big hedonistic party. I've seen so many drunken tourists (three of them at 8 this morning), bellies hanging out, girls in bikini tops on the street, and men with their Thai princesses for the evening that it makes me wince.
Still, though, I'm glad we did our trek in the order we did. Coming back to Thailand is going to help ease the transition back into the West. We still have a few days left, and we're going to use them on the beach like everyone else. The Thai are friendly and things are easy-peasy here: everyone speaks English and transportation is affordable, comfortable, and timely. It's still pleasant and a nice way to wrap up one helluva vacation. I just don't foresee myself coming back to Thailand after having seen the other parts of southeast Asia.
We're off to an island for a few more days, where we are pretty much guaranteed to see lots of bloated pink bellies. By next weekend, we'll be back in Bangkok, where we'll head for the weekend market before spending our final day (Monday) just wrapping up odds and ends - and maybe getting a facial or something so that we don't feel so scuzzy for the flight home.
Both Kara and I are trying to find something else to wear on the flight; I don't want to submit the person I am next to on the plane to the terrific and terrible smell of my five-week vacation. My clothes are all rank and I can't wait to throw out every piece of stained and ripped clothing I have brought along. Nothing has escaped the dirt of Cambodia, and most things have stretched and become so disgusting that I hestitate to wear them even here, where disastrous fashion is the norm. I dream of the day I get to go home, take a shower, maybe put on heels, and wear some new, clean article of clothing. The crazy thing is that that day is now only a week away.
Today will be our last day in Cambodia. We've absorbed the culture and have done the obligatory tourist stop at Angkor Wat. In general, we feel the timing of our trip has worked out perfectly. Kara and I are both the most pathetic tourists to have travelled southeast Asia: we really don't care to see the typical sites, preferring to stop in a cafe and drink sweetened coffee instead of visiting another wat or some royal palace. Still, though, Angkor Wat was a must-see, so we did it. It was cool enough, but neither of us felt it merited a 7-day pass or anything. I don't know what people do there for seven whole days.
So now we're planning on rounding the bend back into Thailand. We're going back to Bangkok for a day or so - hopefully to catch a Thai boxing match while we're at it - and then will head south for a few days (more beach time) before coming back up to the city for our final weekend. Should be wild.
We're both feeling good and have adjusted to the heat. I can't believe how quickly time has passed... at this rate, before I know it, winter will be here. Luckily, by then, my tailor-made winter coat should have arrived. So no worries.
I finally bought the batteries for my digital camera two days ago, so I've managed to snag a few photos. Unfortunately, most of our pics are on 'real' film, and I doubt we'll digitize them.
I did, however, get some snaps of the monkey family we saw yesterday off the beaten path at Angkor Wat. We had said, on multiple occasions while checking out the site, "Where are all the monkeys? Lara Croft: Tomb Raider is so unrealistic.' But I guess that it wasn't so unrealistic after all, because there really are monkeys there. It was very exciting for both of us... the Camobidans thought our enthusiasm was pretty funny. As Kara put it, 'It would be like if someone came to America and got really excited about all the pigeons.'
But dude, we saw monkeys.
So there we are. I honestly can't believe we're going to Thailand tomorrow. This trip is passing with lightening speed. Yesterday we were surprised to find out what day of the week it was... I still feel like it's sometime mid-April, but here we are, July 16. I head home in 10 days. That's insane.
Last night, it rained so hard that the spattering sound on our tin roof kept us up most of the night. We didn't really mind though... we've been waiting for a rain storm most of this trip. Everyone warned us, "Oh, you shouldn't go to southeast Asia during the rainy season!" But, honestly, we've been begging for rain. Thus far, it has only rained once in Laos, once in Vietnam, and now once in Cambodia. "Rainy season" my ass.
We're in a sort of strange little town on the Cambodian coast called Sihanoukville. This is where Cambodians come to vacation, so the beaches were pretty much packed yesterday (Saturday) upon our arrival in the late afternoon. Today, however, we expect them to clear out as everyone returns home for the work week. That way, we'll be able to get down to the very serious business of getting a deep, dark tan.
Thus far, I really like Cambodia. The people are mellow but willing to help, and the ease of travel makes it more pleasant to get around in than Vietnam or Laos. We're going to hang out on the beach for another day or two before heading back to the capital for a stopover on our way to Siem Riep.
A few days ago, we passed the halfway point in our trip. Both of us agree that the first week was the slowest, probably due both to the fact that Laos is extremely calm and easygoing and that we were adjusting to the travelling lifestyle. The second week or so flew by in Vietnam, and I expect that things will only speed up from here. Both of us are pretty much in full-on travel mode, and we're finding things easier to get done. Travelling is a skill and we've been sharpening ours.
My main discovery since Vietnam has been my love of motorbikes. In all the countries we've been in, this is the main mode of transportation. At first, we were a bit scared to hop on the back of a motorbike driver's ride with our backpacks, but we're getting used to it. Actually, we're learning to love it. Scootering around town is so practical and is a good way to see things. I have fantasies of buying myself a little scooter to get around Paris in upon my return. Maybe I'll do that right after I win a lot of money or write a bestseller.
We made it into Vietnam in the craziest of circumstances. We honestly thought for a moment at the border that our driver had gone off with all our luggage. But luckily, things were fine.
We drove straight into Dong Ha, a town near the beach from which we would connect to other cities. Feeling adventurous, Kara and I strapped on our backpacks in search of the train station with no map and terrible directions.
The search took over three hours, although the train station was less than two km away. It was boiling hot and we were both dripping with sweat, but the Vietnamese help we had along the way kept our enthusiasm running. Whole groups of people would literally come over and ask if they could help, patching together their English in an attempt to get us to where we were going.
Finally, a good English-speaker helped us out and we made it to the station, only to find out that all trains were booked for the next eight days,
Funny.
In the end, though, it was a great thing. We opted instead to take a morning bus out of Dong Ha, heading to the beach town of Hoi An. Upon arrival, the city was having its Full Moon Festival: the entire city turns off the lights and is lit by lanterns and candlelight. Both of us were hard-pressed to remember a place more beautiful and endearing. It was also extremely romantic, which was lost on the two of us girls travelling without our boys.
Still, though, a great place. We're in high spirits, despite the raging, raging heat. Oddly, everyone told us that we were coming in the rainy season, but we have only seen rain once - and only for half an hour. I could really use a little rain to cool things down...
Kara and I are lame. We took a bus to Savannakhet, Laos in hopes of gradually making our way to the Vietnamese border over the next two days. The buses in Laos are... um... interesting, and we thought that cutting up at 12 hour journey into two six-hour journeys could be a better way of going about things.
The trouble is that the bus system here is minimal. Upon arrival, we went to our lovely guesthouse (literally a bedroom in this nice family's home... at the equivalent of $2.50 a night) and enjoyed the small town of where we're staying by walking along the Mekong river and having a beer on a patio.
The next day - yesterday - we went to inquire about leaving on a bus to head towards Vietnam. It turns out that those buses only leave every even-numbered day of the month at 8 am. This means we has missed the bus that morning. So, instead of leaving as planned, we are leaving tomorrow - a whole two days longer than we planned on staying in town.
This means we've gotten to know this place pretty well. The people are absurdly friendly... they yell hellos and how are yous from their front stoops whenever we walk by. For all their niceness, though, we're ready to motor. There's not much by way of dining (we've frequented the same two restaurants on numerous occasions) and we're covered the entire place on foot several times over.
Although we are both big fans of Laos - and especially of the people who live here - we're ready to move on to the Vietnamese portion of our trip. There's only so much small-town Laos fun to be had.
Our first stop in Vietnam: the beach.
Just a quick note. Kara and I arrived safe and sound, with as little difficulty as can be expected when one flies for over 20 hours. We actually found one another at the baggage claim before going through customs, more or less stumbling into one another. It was handy, and a great way to start the journey.
Kara and I have spent the last day and a half wandering around Bangkok... a city we enjoy (great shopping, it's insane) but feel ready to leave. I had been told by several people that Bangkok is dirty and scummy, but we have both marveled at how clean it is here. The people are friendly and this has been the perfect place to transition into travel mode. Nonetheless, it dawned on both of us that we don't feel that the city life is what we're after, so we are taking the night train to Laos this evening. After we cross the border in the morning, we'll most likely spend a day or so in the capital (Vientiane) and then head up to the surrounding villages for the days following.
That means, probably, no internet. But we may be able to stop in the northern town of Luang Prabang, where we think we'll spend Saturday.
We slept (poorly) in our first guesthouse. Our verdict: don't take the guesthouses next to blasting rap music, and we're going to need our own bed sheets. Still, we've both managed to recover from our excessive jet lag in one evening. We're thankful that we're young and can bounce back so quickly... we managed to stay up until 10:00 last night (even though neither of us slept on the plane) and, although we both spent two hours in the middle of the night wide awake (not the same two hours, unfortunately), we slept from 4-10 am without any difficulty.
We're feeling good today and are looking forward to what tomorrow brings.
Well, I'm as ready as I'm going to be.
I'm excited, but I have to admit that I'm a lot bit sad about leaving The Boy. His normal bravado has disappeared and he's become truly glum. I've gotten tears in my eyes on two or three occasions at the thought of a five-week span without him. This is pathetic. I can't believe I've become that girl. Anyway, we're off to dinner this evening to spend my last remaining hours in Europe together before the long flight.
I think I've just got a bit of the jitters. I'd be lying if I said I didn't. I'm just worried about missing my bed, my shower, my friends, and my man. I'm also really hoping I won't be entirely cut off from the news, because that's one habit I just can't crack. But, missing things comes with the territory when you travel, and I suppose it just means that things are good enough back home to be worth pining over when away. That can't be a bad thing.
I'm all packed. My backpack - already considerably smaller than my previous bag brought to Europe - is only half full. Kdogg's bag is even smaller than mine, so I figure we'll have some communal spillover space on my side. I'm fine with that. For right now, the bag is ultra-light and certainly manageable. I'm impressed with my ability to streamline. I've somehow mastered the skill over the years, one of the few things I can honestly say I'm good at.
I believe I've closed up shop in Paris to the best of my abilities. Last night was a lovely dinner with The Girls to say farewell for now. Kathypath and I won't see one another for over two months, due to poor planning and general stupidity on our part. Omar is fortunately still going to be in Paris when I get back, so we'll get to spend more quality time together. And Beccarah should be back in Paris before I get home at the end of July.
This morning, my flight company informed me of a change in schedule via email. Apparently this is normal with Vietnam Airlines. I'm only getting in an hour later than expected, which isn't tragic. On the return flight, however, a two-hour layover has turned into a ten-hour one. I'm not too thrilled about that. Ten hours in the Hanoi airport? Jaysis.
In the end, I've got my journal, books, glasses, and Tylenol PM ready for the flight over. This will be the first time I fly without music, and I can't believe I'm attempting such a feat on such a long flight. Still, I've gotten in a lot of practice flying since graduating high school, so I'm not too worried. Just like my mama raised me, I have a fair amount of literature to keep me occupied. For 20 hours.
Tomorrow morning, I know I am going to be a babbling idiot when it's time to say goodbye to The Boy. In the interest of self-protection, he usually makes some asshole comment before my departures like, "It's not a big deal. You won't be gone long." This usually has the reverse effect of comforting him but upsetting me. I know he's just trying to play cool when he says it, but it makes me feel that my leaving is of little importance to him. This time, however, his cool has already started fraying. That makes leaving a bit more miserable. I have to admit to a fair amount of guilt: I hate to think of him tinkering around the house and sleeping alone. I guess that just means I love him.
There you have it. To all my friends and family: I LOVE YOU! I'll be thinking of everyone and sending along updates as much as possible. Have a great couple of weeks and I'll be in touch!
Hugs and kisses all around,
L
Kdogg and I bought out tix to southeast Asia yesterday. We did it simultaneously on the phone, so as to better plan our arrival. The idea was that we could trip out at the newness of the place together by meeting up in the Bangkok airport and then beginning our journey from there as a unit.
So we perfectly timed out ticket-getting so that I'll just have an hour-long wait before she arrives, and then on the return, our flights leave within two hours of one another. Somehow, she thinks something went awry, because now we are arriving within eight hours of one another instead of one. Details, though.
The fact is we have our TICKETS and this means this trip is becoming a reality. I can't believe it! I'm so excited! Enough so that I actually used some exclamation points! Repeatedly!
So it's settled: June 21-July 27, 2004. This will be the voyage. I'm sure you'll hear all about it.
And yes, right now is time for finals, so what better time to spend hours and hours on the internet researching travel options? We've altered our route a bit (mainly to avoid a certain area where our malaria pills won't work) and thus need to check out other options. That sounds like a perfect study distraction to me.
