Until the next adventure

It hardly seems possible that I have been home from Asia a little over one week.  After forty straight hours of traveling, we arrived in Oklahoma City on Sunday, March 13th around 10 PM.  I had such mixed feelings as I walked through the airport I'd stood in six weeks earlier before my departure to India.  I was happy to be back, because I had missed my family and friends so much (and of course the dogs :), but I knew that coming home signaled the end of one of the most memorable and incredible adventures of my life.  We had an excellent welcome home from my incredible friends, and the excitement of Match Week for residency to keep us busy with parties all week and the ceremony on Thursday.  We are moving to Denver for my intern year!  I've always dreamed of living in the mountains.  As things have slowed down, I've had time to reflect on the adventure I had and the places and people across the world that I am aching for.  I am posting below what I wrote on our flight from Bangkok to Dubai, then Dubai to NYC on Saturday evening, March 12th, as we flew through the night and morning and traversed time zones high above oceans and land:
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I woke up Saturday morning and could hardly believed it had arrived: Our departure from Asia.  Six weeks had seemed like such a long period of time before I'd left home, but it had flown by so quickly.  I made a conscious effort, everyday, to appreciate each wonderful and novel moment and aspect of getting to work and travel in these wonderful countries.  The last day was no exception, and we made an early trip to Chatuchak Market, the largest market in Thailand, to take in the must-see attraction and to do some last minute souvenir shopping.  The subway stop for the market was next to Bangkok's gorgeous city park, and the green grass spread with trees, walking trails and interrupted by ponds made a nice contrast to the urban landscape.  The din from the market grew as we approached, and we were soon within its stalls and aisles which stretched in every direction as far as you could see.  The market covers thirty-five acres and has more than 5,000 stalls within its realm.  The individual stalls and stores were interconnected by narrow walkways and the entire arrangement was covered, trapping in the heat and creating a suffocating environment as the day wore on.  Some of the stalls were no bigger than a typically-sized American home bathroom, while others were larger.  The variety was endless.  You could buy anything imaginable, from a bird to a stun gun and everything in between.  I loved all of the hipster Thai clothing that seemed to be in every corner, but I controlled myself and bought a few gifts for family and some mementos for Landon and I.  Landon has a strong aversion to shopping, but was such a good sport.  He let me wander along for a good 1.5 hours, after which we met up to check out the best part of the market...the animals!  I was completely enamored with a litter of Golden Retriever puppies which Landon had found earlier and led me back to.  There were about seven soft, fluffy balls of puppy rolling around in an enclosed pen, and the shopkeeper let me pet each precious one.  I showed her a picture of Max on Landon's iPhone, and her smile showed me that she was a true dog lover like me.  Landon patiently followed me through a few more shops, after which we escaped the growing human traffic of the market for the air-conditioned subway back to Sukumvit where our hotel was.

With only a few hours left in Thailand, we decided to get the true 'Thai experience' and went for a Thai massage.  Kelsey had told us that anything less than two hours was a 'foreigner massage', and to get the true experience it had to be two hours in order for the masseuse to isolate each muscle.  Well, that's exactly what happened.  After going upstairs to a dimly-lit room with curtained beds, we donned cloth pajamas and began two hours of Thai massage that was simultaneously painful and luxuriously good.  The masseuse began with the tips of my toes and ended with the top of my head, in between stretching my body in impossible positions and popping every joint.  I was worried it might have been too extreme for Landon, but as we sipped hot tea afterwards he was quite relaxed and had really enjoyed it.  Landon and I had a tasty lunch of red curry in coconut milk with duck and chicken stir-fried with red peppers and Thai basil.  We finished it off with my favorite Thai dessert, mango sticky rice, then headed back to the hotel to meet up with the girls for quick showers before we caught a cab to the airport.

I looked out the cab window the whole way, trying to fix every detail in my mind before we got to the airport.  I have seen such a small part of this geographically and culturally vast continent, but it has captivated my heart and every sense for the past six weeks.  What really took me by surprise is how comfortable I felt, a testament to the good people I met in my travels.  I feel like I have covered a lot of ground, literally and figuratively.  I thought it would be interesting to break the literal part down into some concrete aspects:

Six weeks
Five Asian countries
Five types of currency-rupees, Singapore dollars, rupiah, ringgits and baht
Five Indian States-Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Uttar Pradesh, Andra Pradesh and Rajasthan
Sixteen separate flights to travel from Oklahoma City, to and through Asia, then back to Oklahoma City
One long Indian bus ride (after that hellacious 9 hour bus trip from Vellore to Pondicherry we took trains)
Six overland India trains
Four boat rides (a houseboat and a canal boat in Kerala, a boat to the Gili Islands, and a riverboat down the Mae Ping in Chiang Mai).
Two bike tours (one in Bali, one in Thailand...ok maybe three bike trips if you count our hilarious ride from the hotel to 7-Eleven in Chiang Mai).
One zipline tour through the jungle.
Countless rickshaw, tuk-tuk, taxi, teksi, taksi, subway, metro and city bus rides.
Miles of walking on city streets, inside hospitals and clinics, neighborhood streets, village roads, mountainsides, irrigation tunnels, beaches and bridges.

Though the physical distance I've traveled by various means and modes has been significant, I've covered greater distance personally and spirituality.  Seeing poverty in its most naked form has made me understand that malnutrition, neglect and lack of education are formidable and even greater epidemics than HIV.  Watching doctors make treatment decisions based on resources has made me understand treating every patient is a privilege that not all physicians have.  Meeting Hindus, Muslims and Christians that work together, live together and enjoy each others differences demonstrate, as Landon said, how religion should be, tolerant and non-judgmental.  I was so aware of God everywhere in India, and in the places I traveled to afterwards.  I think that this heightened awareness came from being in such a foreign place yet feeling his presence so strongly, be it in a temple, a church, beside the ocean or in the eyes of another person.  He is truly everywhere and in everything, I just have not always been looking.


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I realized today that I hadn't really finished writing in my blog.  I think I was actually ignoring the task, reluctant to do it, because that would truly mean that my adventure, my journey in Asia, was over.  I get so sad when I come home from traveling, feeling as if it will be endless days until I get to take off again to another unseen place.  I read this quote by Anthony Bourdain that succinctly explains how I feel:

"It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be, the more of it I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn.  Maybe that’s enlightenment enough, to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom, such as it is for me, means realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go."




I was struck by how much it captured my thoughts as of late, and how I had spoken almost these exact words (though with much less eloquence) to Landon as we were on our way home.  I consider myself so blessed to have traveled more than many people ever will, but with each trip I only kindle a greater fire within myself to see and do more.  With every new country and culture I love and embrace, I become acutely aware of the ones I have yet to discover. 

The India crew met for dinner this week at Gopuram, the most authentic Indian restaurant in OKC.  We all closed our eyes in reverence at the mix of spices and incredible flavor, savoring not only the familiar food but the memories we have of our time in India.  The owner of the restaurant, who happened to be from Chennai (the city just two hours from Vellore that we flew in and out of), came over to chat with us as it was late and we were the only patrons in the restaurant.  We chatted about the food, about our trip and about traveling in India, but what touched me most was the unspoken understanding between us of a country and people of such wonder that words cannot begin to describe.  As we left, he directed us to a writing on the wall beside the door.
"That is written by Mark Twain.  Though you can't put all that is India into words, he does a very excellent and beautiful job."

And so I will end my blog with Mr. Twain's quote, a man I admire not only for his incredible prowess as a writer, but even more so for his love of travel and the ability to put it in beautiful words that speak to me so deeply.
“This is indeed India; the land of dreams and romance, of fabulous wealth and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags, of palaces and hovels, of famine and pestilence, of genii and giants and Aladdin lamps, of tigers and elephants, the cobra and the jungle, the country of a thousand nations and a hundred tongues, of a thousand religions and two million gods, cradle of the human race, birthplace of human speech, mother of history, grandmother of legend, great-grandmother of tradition, whose yesterdays bear date with the mouldering antiquities of the rest of the nations—the one sole country under the sun that is endowed with an imperishable interest for alien prince and alien peasant, for lettered and ignorant, wise and fool, rich and poor, bond and free, the one land that all men desire to see, and having seen once, by even a glimpse, would not give that glimpse for the shows of all the rest of the globe combined.”—Mark Twain, Following the Equator, 1897.

Until the next adventure....

Sara 







 

Bangkok By Day, Dinner Party By Night

Our last full day in Asia we spent touring Bangkok and doing a bit of relaxing.  The morning started with a scrumptious Scottish breakfast.  Scottish breakfast in Thailand may seem strange to some, but it seemed fitting because the hotel's charming owner, Kevin, was Scottish, and the small hotel was a quirky and fun blend of Scottish and Thai flavors.

We then cabbed it to Wat Traimit in the Samphanthawong district of Chinatown.  Wat Traimit itself was simple in its beauty, a towering four-storey temple built in the typical style we had seen in the wats in Chiang Mai.  However, the real attraction was what resided inside Wat Traimit... Phra Phuttha Maha Suwan Patimakon!!!  Otherwise known by it's less tongue-twisting name, "The Golden Buddha", it is the world's largest solid gold statue.  Landon told me what he had read about the shiny deity's unusual journey to his revered status on the lofty top floor of the temple, and it was so interesting I have copied part of it below:

In the early 1930s, reconstruction works in the banks of the Chao Phraya river near Chinatown required the destruction of an old abandoned temple that housed a stucco-painted statue of Buddha.  Despite the fact that the statue was not so attractive, its destruction was not an option.  Thus it was decided to move it to Wat Traimit, a pagoda of minor relevance (like hundreds of other Buddhist temples that exist in Bangkok), keeping the statue in Chinatown. The temple didn't have a building big enough to house the statue, so it was kept for 20 years under a simple tin roof.  In 1955 a new building was built and the monks decided to install the statue inside it. A crane was supposed to move the statue carefully, but a cable broke and the statue fell in the mud, an event that was seen as a bad omen by the workers, who ran away from the place, leaving the statue on the soil. It was the rainy season and, as for confirming the bad omen, a terrible storm came and it lasted the whole night, flooding the whole city.  At the dawn of the next day, the abbot of the temple came to evaluate the damage and started removing the mud. He observed that the wet plaster was cracked and under it was a statue made of solid gold.  It is thought that the statue came from Ayutthaya and it was disguised under plaster to hide it from the Burmese, who were besieging the city. After being moved to Bangkok, its true composition was forgotten for almost 200 years.

Fascinating, yes?  I loved that story.  It is just an example of the old cliche that appearances can be deceiving.  Despite the impressiveness of the gold behemoth, the top floor of the temple had amazing views of Bangkok's surrounding Chinatown.  Our next stop was outside the pristine white walls that surrounded the sprawling complex of the Grand Palace and its temple, Wat Phra Kaew, regarded as the most sacred temple in Thailand.  As palaces go, this one was most unique due to its rich colors and characteristic adornments.  My favorite part of the massive temple complex was the intricate array of colored-mirror mosaics that covered the facade of every building.  Standing in front of the walls, I could see many tiny reflections of myself in blues, greens and reds that blended to make larger reflections if I stepped back.  It reminded me of the lovely collections of antique glass that my Grandma Earlene loved so much.  Touching the smooth surfaces of the mirrors brought me back to childhood days in her house in which she'd let me take them off the shelves to carefully hold them.  Grandma is on my mind and all around me here.  She would have loved to see all the intricate and fancy temples that are enormous versions of the art and glass pieces she loved to collect.  As I have come to learn, these temples are not only revered for their inherent beauty, but for the treasures they hold inside, be it statues of precious metals or a king's ashes.  In this case it was yet another the former, this time 'The Emerald Buddha', a small green relation of the golden counterpart across town.  His story of how he came to his honored position on the top of a tower of gold and jewels is eerily similar to the circumstances surrounding that of the Golden Buddha.  I won't repeat the similar story of it being discovered by chance after it was covered in stucco, but there are some fun legends that involved lightning, elephants and war-loving kings.  The Emerald Buddha, which in fact is actually solid jade...a small detail that was discovered after its naming and never rectified, us quite a fashionable deity because his golden attire is changed by the Thai king himself at the change of every season.  He was quite in the mode in his winter attire when I laid eyes on him along with the throngs of worshippers that repeatedly bowed on their knees at his altar.  Honestly my favorite part of the temple were the beautiful paint and gilded murals on the walls of the covered walkways on the courtyard's perimeter.  They depicted scenes from the Ramakian, the Thai national epic, and I tried to make sense of the monsters, wars and beautiful countryside the paintings depicted.

Heat and exhaustion drove us to lunch in an air-conditioned restaurant followed by pedicures and neck and shoulder massages at a massage parlor by our hotel.  After six straight weeks in my Chaco sandals tromping around Asia, my feet were in desperate need of pampering.  After quick showers we beat the crawling Bangkok traffic by taking the metro to the home of Steve and Carmen, long-time friends of Cristine's parents who have lived in Bangkok for the past ten years.  Steve is a pediatrician turned global health advocate who works for UNICEF in Bangkok, a Carmen is an ardent defender against child exploitation in Thailand through her work with ECPCA.  Their daughter, Kelsey, is a 25-year-old young woman who recently returned to her parents home in Thailand after working for an NGO for the past two years.  They all had incredie stories from their beginnings in international work to their current plans and activities.  I picked Steve's brain as much as I could about his advice regarding how to best plan my residency training and career to be able to work in healthcare and human welfare in a more global way.  After a month in India and several week-long mission trips at other times in my life, I've realized that making a significant, perpefuatung impact is done at a much earlier step than just prescribing medications or performing a surgery.  There's so much that can be changed in terms of human health and human rights through education and building up social infrastructure where one doesn't exist.  Steve had great ideas for  both Landon and I, as a future physician and as an engineer, to make the changes we want to see in the works.  It was really touching to hear Carmen explain the intricacies of her job and the barriers she faces in working against the sexual exploitation of Thai children with the police corruption that is everpresent in developing countries.  The ESCPA is a truly amazing organization that was the forerunner in specifically defining the rights of children and their status as individuals whilst separate from their parents who deserve free access to the justice system without having the danger of being marginalized or misrepresented.  She works with many international organizations, and Kelsey proudly joked that hers was the only mother that had Interpol on speed dial.  The funnier thing was that it was completely true.  We spent many hours yesterday evening sharing incredible home-cooked Thai food, travel stories and glasses of red wine.  Their hospitality was genuine and warm, and it was with true regret that we bade them goodnight and goodbye since we were headed home the next day.  I confessed to Carmen that my six weeks in Asia had flown by, and that I wished I could stay longer.  I don't think I'll ever feel like my traveling is completed, no matter how many places I go.  I guess that's the point of traveling though, to continually seek out the unknown, and that which is unknown within the known.                 

Night Bicycle Tour of Bangkok

Yesterday was mostly a travel day as we made our way from Chiang Mai to Bangkok.  However, Landon had arranged a wonderful evening activity to end our first day in Bangkok: The night bicycle tour!  I've done several bicycle tours in my life of interesting cities, but never one at night.  It got rave reviews on TripAdvisor, but I was midly skeptical of how much we'd be able to see by night.  It was incredible.  I feel like we got to see a hidden, quieter and more peaceful side of Bangkok from riding through its streets and alleys at night.

First things first, we arrived at Grasshopper Bicycle Tours to get fitted for our bikes and helmets, and have our bikes equipped with appropriate safety lighting.  We mounted our trusty bikes around 6:30 PM, and began the ride through alleyways teeming with shops, restaurants and the busy end of the Bangkok business day for small buisness owners.  Our tour guide, Wudee, was a forty-five year old Thai man in impeccable physical shape with a love for biking and the outdoors. Jules and he got quiet chummy during the ride, and we learned that he had lived thirty years in Chiang Mai prior to coming to Bangkok has a hotelier then running his own treks and white-water rafting.  Wudee pointed out several interesting sights like a famous Thai university on our way to the ferry dock, and I had to narrowly avoid crashing into things because I was turning my head at every angle to catch the rapidly evolving scenery around me.  We were on an urban adventure, up stairs, down stairs, through alleys, across bridges, in markets, sometimes walking the bike, sometimes carrying it, and pedaling furiously the other times.

We boarded a ferry boat to cross the Chao Phraya River, and had great views of the electric night horizon, all the sparking lights on Bangkok in all arrays of colors and brightness.  Wheeling our bikes off the ferry, we continued through the urban jungle and arrived at Wat Arun, or "Temple of the Dawn".  Wudee explained Wat Arun's important role in the early history of Bangkok.  After the fall of Ayuthaya, Thailand's ancient capital, the conquering Burmese king Taksin took control of Thailand and established the new capital at the site where Wat Arun stands.  The temple was named after the Indian god of dawn, Aruna, and also as a symbol of the beginning of a new era, the dawn of a new capital city.  The temple and its compound are absolutely breathtaking, especially at night.  There is an 82 meter prang (enormous Khmer-style tower) in its center, and numerous slightly smaller but equally beautiful towers radiating around the central prang.  The whole thing from a distance is astounding, but the detail up close is even more impressive.  There are endless ornate floral mosaics made from broken, multicolored Chinese porcelain that give the incredible work of bold and powerful architecture a delicate appearance.
We were given special entrance to the wat at night through the bicycle tour, and it was so unique to be allowed into it's sacred gates by night without the crush and bustle of all the other tourists.  Our small biking group of nine, plus the temple guards, were the only ones around, and we were free to wander for a long time to take pictures and admire the radiant glow of the temples in the clear and cool night. 

Our next stop was Wat Pho, and we cut through the "neighborhoods" of Bangkok to reach the beautiful temple.  Biking through more narrow alleys, we passed many people eating dinner, watching TV, conversating outside and waving to the group of bikers whizzing through their nightly routine.  We had to duck several times top pass under low-lying awnings, and the alleys were sometimes so narrowed and lined by people, animals and other hodgepodge that I had to brake often.  Wat Pho was as beautiful, if not more than Wat Arun.  We arrived at a perfect time to see the pure white crescent moon hanging between the peaks of the temple's monuments.  The compound hosted various chedis, or enormous mosaic-covered towers that housed the remains of several of the Chakri kings.  Porecelain-covered walkways move around the perimeter, blending into spacious temples with awnings and statues of dragons and other mythical creatures.  Wudee informed us that Wat Pho is also the national headquarters for the teaching and preservation of traditional Thai medicine, including Thai massage.  There is a very famous massage school located in the compound, and the students and teachers still follow the ancient stone inscriptions depicting massage techniques from early Bangkok history.  Once again, we enjoyed the peace and tranquility of Bangkok's most famous monuments at night, free from the massive crowds and oppressive humid heat.

The last stop before heading back were the night market and the flower market.  To get there, we biked along the river, stopping to watch the lights of the bridges change along their rainbow spectrum as large dinner cruise boats full of merriment and laughter passed below.  The night market wasn't much to see, mostly knock-off designer brands of every type of merchandise one can imagine, but the flower market was incredible!  It spanned both sides of the city street, with one side entirely devoted to flowers used for religious purposes. The religious side was mostly the traditional yellow margiolds used to make the wreaths and flowery strands that are seen adorning statues and alters in the temples and even in taxi cabs all around Thailand.  The other side had flowers in every color of the rainbow plus ones in between.  There were types of flowers I'd never seen before, and ones in colors I didn't know existed.  I had no idea that orchids came in so many vibrant shades.  The smell was intoxicating, and we wandered the stalls for a long time, gently touching soft petals and admiring their beauty before returning to our bikes by the river. 

Sweaty and exhausted we took a cab home from the city center and turned into bed.  We all felt as if we had seen a hidden part of Bangkok, a more calm and peaceful side that would surely dissolve into something equally wonderful in the daylight hours to come.

First Tastes of Thailand

We had breakfast on the Mae Ping River Monday morning, sipping coffee and fresh juice and enjoying the peaceful morning.  We decided to hire a driver to see the sights of Chiang Mai, and we were delighted with the mode of transportation he arrived in: A red car!  The 'red car' is the Northern Thailand version of a taxi, and consists of a pick-up truck with a camper in the truck bed and padded benches on its side.  It made for a fantastic ride as we weaved in and out of morning traffic, picking up and dropping off locals on the way.

Our first stop was the Bhuping Palace in the mountains west of Chiang Mai.  It was quite a distance above the city, and we had wonderful views of Chiang Mai nestled in the valley below as we continued upwards.  Built in 1962, the Bhuping Palace serves as the winter home of Thailand's royal family.  The palace itself was elegant but simple, with the most elaborate part of it all being the well-manicured and exotic gardens.  There wasn't a spot that didn't hold the vibrant colors of nature, and we walked along paths lined by brillant red flowers and shaded by towering trees.  The water reservoir that served as the source for the needs of the palace and gardens was also lovely, with several intricate spinning fountains in the middle.

Our next stop was a short distance away, a hill village we deemed a tourist trap and scampered out of after snapping a few pics.  Unfortunately that is the way with many of the hill villages that tourists are taken to, expecting to see living culture but instead confronted with knock-off designer sunglasses and factory-manufactured 'handicrafts'.  Luckily our next stop a few miles down the mountain was better, and we were all impressed by Wat Prathat Doi Suithep, a Buddhist temple considered to be one of Thailand's most important religious sites.  The 309 steps to the top are guarded by the brilliant twin green dragons whose scaley bodies stretched from their heads at the foot of the stairs to their tails at the summit.  The climb to the top was no joke, and we all stopped several times to admire the views of Chiang Mai behind us.  Once inside the temple gates, we paid 10 baht for the obligatory cloth covering to make us appropriate for the temple, and we removed our shoes entered into the main courtyard.  The temple is said to have been founded in 1383 when the first chedi, the center towering monument, was built.  Over time the temple has expanded, and been made to look more extravagant with many more holy shrines added around the chedi.  The original copper plated chedi is the most holy area of the temple grounds, and many worshippers knelt around it, praying and lighting candles.  Within the site are pagodas, small rooms filled to the brim with golden statues, paintings, jewels and other fanciful treasures.  We sat in one of them during a ceremony in which one of the Buddhist monks blessed the people kneeling below him with water he sprinkled from reeds he held in his hand.  At one point Landon got chastised for not kneeling properly, so we decided we'd had enough and walled the rest of the courtyard before getting popsicles and heading back to the red truck.

Our lovely chariot had pictures of baby tigers posted all over it, so we asked our driver to take us to the Tiger Palace in Mae Rim, about a half-hour drive away.  I will admit it was yet another tourist trap, but one I was glad to be caught in because I got to pet and cuddle Mimi and Euro, two adorable three-month old tigers.  The trainer told us they sleep eighteen hours a day, and Euro was definitely in the act and hardly moved when we petted him.  Mimi, on the other hand, was quite rambunctious as she stalked the cage, keeping her trainers busy as she frolicked around.  Her eyes were a bluish-purple hue, and though she was precious, I knew her tiny mouth held some vicious teeth that would do damage if she decided my arm was a snack.  The Indo-Chinese tiger is really quite beautiful, lighter in orange color than the Bengal but with a similar patterns of black stripes.  

After late lunch at the Tiger Palace, we made our way to the last stop on our tourism trail, Wat Phra Singh, located in the western part of the old city centre of Chiang Mai.  Construction on Wat Phra Singh began in 1345 when King Phayu, the fifth king of the Mangrai dynasty, had a chedi built to house the ashes of his father King Kham Fu.  The temple evolved to include several more structures within the beautiful compound, but the entire thing fell into disrepair during the Burmese rule of the area from the late 1500's to late 1700's.  It was only when King Kawila assumed the throne as King of Chiang Mai in 1782, that the temple was restored.  The whole temple complex underwent extensive renovations under the famous monk Khru Ba Srivichai during the 1920s. Many of the buildings were again restored in 2002, and the result is a pristine but busy center of education and training for young men to become Buddhist monks.  Though it was much simpler, I actually preferred it to the ornate Wat Prathat Doi Suithep we'd seen earlier.  It seemed lively and a functioning temple, with all the boys, young men and monks bustling around in their traditional orange garb.  I loved the gardens, which had many signs tacked up with pearls of wisdom like "Ignorance is the real evil."

That evening the girls and I made like locals and borrowed bikes from the hotels to pick up some food and drinks. We all giggled hysterically as I pedaled a bike made for someone half my height and we narrowly avoided all modes off traffic that sped by us.  The bridge across the river gave us a gorgeous view down the Mae Ping, one that distracted Cristine a bit until she realized her bike didn't have handbrakes so she had to make a graceful stop using her Chaco's.  We enjoyed a night in, sitting by the river at our guest house, listening to music, talking and sipping the elegant Sprite, Pomegranate and Orange Fanta martinis that Landon concocted.

We awoke Tuesday morning to the excitement that awaited us: A ziplining tour in the Thai jungle with Flight of the Gibbon!!!  After breakfast by the river, the staff picked us up in a van filled with other traveler that would also be spending the day on the tour.  There were three British hipsters, an Australian couple that ran an English school for poor children in Phuket and the four Oklahomans.  The van drove us one hour outside Chiang Mai to the small village of Mae Kompong, our launching point for the excursion.  We were expertly fitted with body harnesses, helmets then signed the security waiver and headed into the jungle.  The 1500 year old rainforest was breathtaking, and getting to swing and jump around in its lofty heights was fantastic as we rode the two kilometers of zip lines and crossed sky bridges in the rainforest canopy.  I'd been ziplining twice before, but this was the longest course and most exhilirating one I've done.  The variety between the ziplines was great, riding some like Superman, landing in nets, and being lowered hundreds of feet to the forest floor.  The hours of ziplining were followed by a traditional Thai lunch back at the village, then a hike up to beautiful Kompong Falls.  I enjoyed getting to know Tina, a woman about my mother's age, and the teacher at the English school in Phuket.  Her passion for the children she teaches is inspiring.  Her goal is to empower them with English so they are able to get a job in Thailand's busy tourism industry and avoid a life in the streets.  She gave Landon and I her card for the "Phuket Has Been Good To Us" Foundation, and told us to come teach whenever we can.  Sign me up!  

Returning back to Chiang Mai we took a boat from the bank by our hotel to town and had a fabulous dinner of traditional Thai food at the river's edge.  The setting sun danced on the river, and the ornate hanging lanterns illluminated the quiet early evening.  We explored the night market a bit after a dessert of taro in coconut milk, and slept well that night after all the activity of our busy day.

I woke up on Wednesday with so much anticipation it was almost unbearable.  We were going to the Elephant Reserve!!!  Before coming to Thailand, Landon and I looked up several treks that including elephant riding.  We were shocked and saddened when we found out the terrible working conditions and treatment of the beautiful elephants, and their exploitation in Thailand's tourism industry.  Our concern led us to an organization called The Elephant Nature Park.  Founded in 1990, the park serves as a safe haven, rescue and rehabilitation center for abused elephants in Thailand.  The self-funded park seeks out and buys abused elephants from trekking companies, logging camps, breeding farms and street begging operations, and brings them to the park to heal and live a more peaceful life.  I was already in love with the mission before I had even set eyes on the beautiful elephants, but as we pulled up to the peaceful park and got my first glimpse of them I was speechless.  Located 60 kilometers from Chiang Mai, the park is cradled in a beautiful forested valley and bordered my a river on one side.  There is a large complex of wooden buildings interconnected by decks and bridges that serves as the home base for the staff and volunteers of the park.  The staff works tirelessly for the elephants.  They prepare the hundreds of pounds of fruits and vegetables the elephants eat each day, they educate tourists and volunteers, they bathe the elephants, provide medical care and are occupied all day with the routine care of these amazing animals.  At the park, each elephant has a mahout, or trainer.  Rather than teach the elephants tricks like a regular trainer might, the mahouts are the beloved friend of their elephant, responsible for their well-being on a daily basis.  We got to act a little bit like mahouts, feeding the elephants and bathing them in the river.  I was amazed by the incredible amount of food they eat.  I was delighted when they would take huge chunks of watermelon and while cucumbers from my hands with their strong and agile trunks, expertly bringing it to their enormous mouths to crunch in several bites.  They put down several hundred pounds of food each day, and I could see why when my heaping laundry basket of fresh produce was gone in five minutes flat.  Throughout the day I learned the stories of many of the elephants, the majority of them terribly sad.  There was Jokia, a blind elephant rescued from logging camps.  Her owner had purposely blinded her as punishment when she refused to go back to work after the death of her baby.  There was Lilly, a young female whose owner had purposefully addicted her to methamphetamine to coerce her to work.  She had come to the park on death's door.  My heart hurt the most for sweet Mae Do, an older female with a broken back from continually being put into restraints to be forcefully bred on at one of the cruel commercial breeding operations.  Her back was deeply swayed and her body controrted in impossible and painful ways when she walked, and I had tears in my eyes when she gently would take food from my hands.  I just don't understand animal cruelty.  I don't.  Looking at the scars and bony deformities on the backs of the elephants rescued from trekking and elephant riding companies, it made me realize the responsibility I have to be an informed, conscious tourist and just in general life decisions.  We watched a really great documentary about the efforts of people in Thailand promoting better treatment of elephants through petitioning against using elephants for street begging, trying to end the horrific native process used in the villages to tame elephants and educating the people of Thailand about the shrinking populating of these incredile animals.  In the past few decades, the number of elephants in Thailand has dropped from 100,000 to 5,000 and continues to decrease.  

The best part of the day was bathing the elephants in the river.  They get bathed twice a day and you can tell they love every second they spend in the cool river.  We splashed water all over them with big buckets, and their ears flapped with contentment as they showed their agreement by splashing water on themselves with their trunk.  The whole day was so wonderful and peaceful it was somewhat surreal, and it was with reluctance that we got back in the van to head back to Chiang Mai.

That evening we asked Te, the kind and smiling owner of our guest house, to recommend an authentic Thai restaurant with really spicy food.  We were tired of getting the tourist version of Thai food, which lacks the characteristic fire of Thai food that we craved.  Well, we got what we asked for.  There wasn't a tourist in site at the restaurant our hotel driver dropped us off at, and we all had watering eyes and noses and burning lips as we chowed down on Tom Yum soup, red curry chicken, spicy salad and lots of crisp vegetables.  We finally got the taste of Thailand we had been looking for, and the result left us hastily scooping coconut ice cream in our mouths at the end of the meal to cool the fire.  We hoped we'd built up a little tolerance for the spicy food we'd be sure to eat in Bangkok the next day!         

Missing My Sweet Grammy Earlene

The reason I haven't blogged the past few days is because I've just been to sad to sit down and write.  My darling Grandma Earlene died early Wednesday morning after a painful battle with lung cancer.  She had come to live with my parents in Edmond after her diagnosis in October, and because Labdon and I had just sold our house in preparation for a residency move, we had the blessing of being my Grammy's 'roomies' for the past few months.  We had so much fun with her and spent many happy hours talking, reminiscing, playing with dogs and loving the sweetest moments with each other.  Her short term menory had been quite affected by vascular dementia, but her long-term memory waa seamless and stories from her past flowed from her like a river.  She gradually got sicker over the past few months, and I worried to my mom that I shouldn't go to Asia because of it.  My mom looked at me as if I was insane and told me I was utterly crazy, and that I know my Gram well enough that I knew she wanted so badly for me to do my rotation in India and travel.  She had been quite the traveler in her younger years just like me, and loved the thrill of setting off for a new place with new people to meet.  I knew my mom was right, but it was still so hard for me to go, and to be in India, getting updates by phone on her health and happiness, both of which varied by the hour.  She lived her life with joy and so much enjoyment of the most special things until just a few days before her death, planting flowers with my mom and a lake trip with my parents and Landon to Arkansas, to see my other grandma who was her dear friend from their days in Kansas, raising my parents who were sandbox buddies before they fell in love as adults.

I had been talking to my mom a lot as Grammy Earlene got sicker, and my mom had a feeling on Tuesday night that Grammy would probably leave us very soon.  When Landon hugged me so hard when we got back to our hotel after the ziplining tour, I knew even before he spoke that my sweet Grammy had left for heaven already.  I wanted to go home immeadiately to be with my family, but my mom reminded me that wasn't the plan, that I was doing exactly what Grammy wanted me to do, living life.

So I've been finishing the final days of the trip I planned, seeing the beauty of the amazing wonders I told Grammy about before I left.  Though she couldn't remember exactly where or why I was going, her excitement matched mine.  She lived for her family, and if her first grandchild was going on an adventure, she'd be right there with me.

Her service will be on Sarurday in her hometown of Saffordville, Kansas, just miles from the farmhouse I grew up visiting and loving her in, making soany memories.  My flight gets home just more than 24 hours after the service, so I will be there through something I wrote to remember just a small part of the incredible, loving person that was my Grandma Earlene.

This is what I wrote for her:

My Grammy Earlene was an incredible woman.  She was one of the strongest women I've ever met.  Raising three girls on her own required a kind of courage that in today's time is remarkable, but for a woman in the 1960's was truly incredible.  As a little girl staying out at the farm, I marveled at her fearlessness in living all by herself out in the country.  Sleeping upstairs in her house, I would be scared of the shadows the tall trees outside the windows would make, their branches looking like monster's claws in the glow of the big streetlight in the backyard.  I'd crawl into bed with her and immeadiately fall asleep under her protection.  She was a successful but compassionate businesswoman, her efficiency and skill in running the nursing home matched only by the love and kindness she showed to all her patients.  She knew each of their stories by heart, and I loved watching their faces light up when she'd talk with them about a special memory from their past.  It seemed like everywhere we'd go in Chase County, somebody would know my Grammy and have a reason to come up and thank her, tell her a story or give her a hug.  She was an honorable, highly-respected woman that taught me at an early age about integrity and the satisfaction of doing your job proudly and well.  Grammy lost so many people that she loved early on in her life, but she shared her love so freely and openly with all of us.  She was a survivor which can make people hardened to love from suffering so much loss, but her love as my grandmother was unhindered and unconditional.  

My Grammy was also one of the most fun people I've ever known.  We have had so many good times together in which we couldn't do anything but laugh.  Some of my best memories are the times I spent alone with her in the summers at her house.  I'd go into work with her, usually with Jenny, and we'd go talk to the people in the nursing home.  We'd periodically stop by Gram's office to check in with her, and she'd always have a suggestion on who we should talk to next, who seemed lonely and could use a walk in the garden.  After work we'd go out to eat, get ice cream, watch a movie, or I'd practice driving her blue Cadillac on the back-country roads by her house.  Though I was an underage, terrible driver, she sat relaxed in the passenger seat, giving encouraging smiles and tips.  I loved to play the piano and sing with her at the nursing home, at her house and at my mom's house most recently. She could still remember the notes well and we loved to sing together, especially hymns and popular songs from her younger years.  Of course music brings to my mind one of her other favorite things: dancing.  We'd put on CD's and dance on the wooden floors of her living room for hours.  I loved watching her dance with Ben and Brian at my wedding, and most recently she'd laugh at my goofy dancing to her favorite records at Mom's house when I'd try to make her laugh.  Even a few weeks ago I'd pull her up to sway with me and she loved it.  We both shared the love of travel, and it was fun to talk about our favorite trips together and hear her experience of seeing the volcanoes in Hawaii after Landon and I went there for our honeymoon.  She loved to shop and took me so many times for school and just for fun.  Her eye for beautiful things was endearing to me, and I still love to touch all of her lovely jewelry, fancy hats and glassware that she had collected for so many years.  Her closets upstairs held so many treasures that she always let us rifle through.  Playing dress-up at Grammy's house was the best, and nothing made me happier than seeing her smile as Jenny, Hannah and I came prancing down the stairs in fancy dresses from her past.  She let her grandchildren set up roller-skating rinks in the basement, dabble in her nicest make-up and perfumes and took us for long walks to Taddy-Pole Crick.  She loved the outdoors and shared that love so strongly with us, and I have fallen in love with the beautiful Flint Hills that she adored so much.  Some of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen were with Grandma, standing facing west at the edge of the pastures by her house.

The health problems that burdened Grandma in the last few years of her life brought her to see me more often and gave me opportunities to return just a small bit of the infinite love and care she had given me as a child.  I am thankful for the times I got to take her to her cardiologist.  We'd hop in my car, blasting Frank Sinatra the whole way there, dancing in our seats.  She'd flirt in her gracious manner with every member of the office staff, both male and female, and charm everyone in the office.  She'd often tell Dr. Prasad that her granddaughter was going to be a doctor like him, and her pride was so touching to me.  Grammy always made it evident how proud she was of me and her other amazing children and grandchildren in the way she attended every school program, ball game and graduation of ours.  After her appointment we'd usually go to Kaiser's, a restored soda fountain in downtown OKC that had a live piano player on most days.  We'd eat humongous milk shakes together and people watch.  Grandma knew so well the pure goodness of talking and relating to another person, and she'd often wander over to chat with the people at the next table, especially if they had little children.  Almost as much as people, my Grammy loved animals.  She passed onto us her love of all things great and small, from the beautiful monarch butterfly she preserved in her glass china cabinet to the multitude of cats that ruled the roost at her home over the years.  I think that people who truly love and appreciate animals are unique and gentle spirits, and my Grammy was tireless in the way she cared for so many of them.  I treasured the way she treated my dogs, Max and Lucy, giving them the most tender caresses and words at all times of the day.  She could watch them wrestle each other for hours, and I knew when she scolded them it was just for show.  Her mischevious streak we all knew so well loved watching those two roughouse.  She also welcomed Landon like he was born her grandson, and in the way she loved him, he was.  Her face was beaming when she saw me wearing her wedding pearls on my wedding day, and her presence with me on that day, like every other special day of my life, was a blessing and a memory I will always treasure.

When I left for my rotation in India, I knew it might be the last time I'd ever hug my sweet Grammy.  We'd gone to breakfast as a family that morning, and afterwards we stood in the sunshine together and I told her goodbye and hugged her as tightly as I could.  I told her that she was the best grandma in the entire world, and that I loved her so, so very much.  She asked where I was going, and Mom told her that her grandaughter was adventurous just like her and was going on a trip.
"How wonderful!" She said brightly, and she hugged me so close and so tight it felt like she knew it might be our last hug too.  I am now missing her like crazy, hardly believing this world can go on without my Grammy.  My mind and soul are full of memories of her, the sound of her laugh, the twinkle in her eyes, and the way her hands would rub mine or stroke my hair when we would sit together.  I wish that I could be home with everyone right now to give hugs and words of comfort, but I know Grammy is glad I took this trip, and she is on one too.  I only wish we could share our stories about it like we always did, but I know she is happy and enjoying it beyond our human understanding, loving us in her special and perfect way like she always did.  Landon said something the other day that made me realize that Grammy was at peace and ready to say goodbye to her beloved family.  He reminded me about how lately she had kept saying,
"Well, I guess it's time for me to go home.", with an excited, joyful tone in her voice.  Landon said she was likely talking about an entirely different home than we thought, and that is such a beautiful way to describe my Grammy feeling ready to leave this world and head back to the arms of her precious Lord.

Dolly Earlene Grace Cleeton Lind, my Grammy, I miss you and love you so much.  Your life will always be remembered by your family that loves you so incredibly much.  Welcome home.

I decided to keep blogging because she would want me to keep recording this adventure I'm on.  I feel her so strongly with me here that I find myself whispering something to her often, knowing that she'd love a certain sunset or a stray cat on the corner.  I miss her so much and it feels like the pain will never be healed, but my memories of her are a calming, reassuring presence and I know now that she is free, eternally joyful and on her own adventure.   

A day in Kuala Lumpur and Our Arrival in Thailand

We had a fabulous evening in Kuala Lumpur.  We dined on the bamboo patio at  the very hip Bijan, enjoying cold Tiger beer and typical Malaysian cuisine like mango leaf salad, chicken curry and fresh fish.  The spice was excellent and just enough when combined with the other exotic flavors.  After dinner we walked the city for several hours, passing by busy Times Square and thousands of people out enjoying the evening, as many as if it was the middle of the day.  Kuala Lumpur has the dressings of a typical booming modern city, but also with a funky Southeast-Asian flair that is all its own.  Curtains of electric blue light strands hung from the many towering trees in the city, draping in places over the above-ground metro that was a silver snake slithering past massive electronic billboards and skyscrapers of all shapes and brightly lit colors.  There were several remarkable buildings ablaze against the skyline, but the most impressive by far was the Petronas towers.

Completed in 1998, the twin towers stand 1, 483 feet tall.  They were considered the tallest structure in the world until 2004 when their incredible height was surpassed by Taipei 101, but they still remain the tallest twin buildings in the world.  They are built on the deepest foundations of any building in the world, an astounding 120 meters.  Eighty-eight stories tall, the towers are connected by the highest two-storey skybridge in the world on floors forty-one and forty-two, 558 feet above the ground and 190 feet long.  I was surprised to learn that the bridge itself is not attached to the main structure, but designed to slide in and out of the towers to prevent it from breaking during high winds.  The bridge was also the setting of the climax of 'Entrapment' when Catherine Zeta-Jones scaled across it.  Even though the numbers and measures above used to describe its proportions are incredible, they are no comparison to the splendor of setting one's own eyes upon it.  We saw the tips of the sparkling white towers peeking above the skyline numerous times as we walked toward them, but it wasn't until we were directly at their base that you could truly appreciate their fantastic construction and beauty.  The circular, rounded part of the tower reminded me of a stack of intricately-painted bangle bracelets, the windows and metals of the towers reflecting like blue precious stones and gold.  The rounded part then joined with the alternating square and triangular shapes that ran from the ground to the lofty spire at the top.  It was a modern creation of contrasting geometric mastery that flowed together in impossible beauty.  The entire thing was luminescent, radiating a pure white light that made the twin giants appear ethereal against the night sky.  We all laid on the concrete for a long time gazing up at the Petronas tours, listening to Landon marvel at the engineering it must have taken to build them and then just laying their in captivated silence.  Seeing the towers was the finale of the night, and we caught a cab back to the guest house and went to bed.

The morning we woke to was bright and sunny, and we made toast and coffee in the guest house kitchen and packed up our bags.  We took a cab to the central train station where we stored our bags and hopped on a train that would carry us to the Batu Caves.  Julie was especially excited and visiting the caves was her idea after she met someone during interview season who had been to them and highly recommended seeing them while in Kuala Lumpur.  They were only a thirty minute ride from the city centre, and even from the train windows the height of the cliffs into which the caves were carved were impressive.  The Batu Caves are a holy place for Hindus, and the world's largest statue of Lord Murugan, standing 140 feet tall, guards the bottom of the flight of steps that lead up to the cave entrance.  Along the way to the steps stands another statue of impressive height, a 50 foot statue of Hanuman, the noble monkey and helper of the god Rama.  His pastel green figure I had often seen in Indian temples.  He greeted me like an old friend as we stepped off the train and immeadiately began sweating in the blazing sun.  The golden statue of Murugan was indeed impressive, as were the 272 steps that led up to the entrance of the cave at the top of the cliffs.  We started up them, stopping intermittently to take photos of Kuala Lumpur below us and to catch our breath.  The view of the city when we reached the top was stunning, and we stood a moment to gaze upon the urban landscape before going into the cave entrance.  The caves were enormous, and several separate caverns connected to form a tunnel several stories wide with stalagtites pointing their gnarled fingers into its vast interior.  There were altars and temples in everywhere inside the cave, smiling Ganeshas and Vishnus peering out from every recess and cranny, recreiving offerings and prayers made by the worshipers who knelt before them.  The light from the flames burning outside one temple cast a warm glow over the cool interior of the cave as we climbed yet more steps to reach the main temple which was guarded by hordes of monkeys.  As monkeys go, these were the cute but mischevious ones who like to steal your stuff, and we watched in fascination as one grabbed a bottle of juice from another tourist and scurried up the rock, stopping to unscrew it then tilt it back for a drink.  

Descending the same 272 steps we reached the bottom and got back on the train to head back to the centre station.  Julie and Cristine were taking a later flight to Bangkok, so we hugged them goodbye and took the KLIA Express train to the airport.  We had wonderful views of the city and its surroundings of dense tropical forests as the train sped to the airport.  After arriving in Bangkok, Landon and I had some time to kill in the airport before our flight to Chiang Mai, so we sat in Starbucks awhile to sit and read.  I couldn't help but think of sitting in a Starbucks with him two months ago back in the U. S., planning the very trip we are on now.  We had our first Thailand meal at the airport, which was actually quite excellent and spicy.  I am hoping to up my threshold for Thai chili and spiciness while I'm here!  We met up with a sweaty Jules and Cristine who had ran all the way from immigration after their flight was delayed.  Back together again we boarded the Bangkok Airways flight to Chiang Mai and touched down around 10 PM.  Landon had arranged an airport pick-up by our hotel, the San Pee Seua, and we were warmly greeted and transported to our hotel in a beat-up pickup truck by our welcoming and grinning driver.  The hotel is incredible!  Located on the outskirts of Chiang Mai along the Maeping River, it has beautiful gardens and a green lawn that slopes to the river.  We stood on the wood floor of the open back porch, gazing out past the colorful hanging lanterns of the trees that swayed in the breeze coming off the river right below.  Our accomadations are a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment with beautiful wooden floors and ornate dark-wood furniture.  There's a balcony overlooking the river, and I know the view from it in the morning will be lovely.  So excited to be in Thailand for the next six days!           

Crazy Kuta, Back Together in Singapore, and the Road to Kuala Lumpur

We spent our last hours in Indonesia in Kuta, the beating heart of Bali's lively tourism industry.  We picked up a few gifts for family and friends, and had lunch at an Indian restaurant.  I honestly wasn't expecting it to be very good or authentic, but as I savored the first bite of naan and mixed vegetable curry, nostalgia washed over me and I felt an ache for the wonderful country I'd left last week.  The food was delicious, and I vowed once again to learn to cook Indian food well when I return.

We spent the rest of the day walking along the populated beach, enjoying the refreshing breeze that swept across the water.  There was much preparation along the beach walk for the evening's celebration of the Hindu new year, and the whole crowd had an anticipatory excitement about it.  Landon and I visited the memorial to the victims of the Kuta bombing at the Sari Club.  Seeing their individual names and nationalities, etched into the stone, made the horror and sadness of the senseless act very real.  The site was in the absolute center of the blocks of bars, nightclubs and major tourism strike.  I had wondered why they chose to target a place so certainly occupied by foreign tourists, but it's clearly apparent why. They not only aimed to take innocent lives, but to destroy the spirit of joy that makes Bali such a desired place to visit for people from all nations and walks of life.

Landon I walked the streets of Kuta for several hours, taking in the frenzy of activity that was in preparation for the parade of ogoh-ogoh's to chase away the bad spirits and welcome in the good for the Balinese/Hindu New Year that began the next day.  We had seen a lot of these fierce and fantastical ogoh-ogoh's being constructed throughout the week, and we now saw them in action.  When carried on bamboo-rod platforms by groups of twenty young boys and men, these constructions of all faces, shapes and colors stood at least twenty feet high and were quite fearsome.  We watched parades of many-headed demons, fierce warriors carrying swords that were ready to impale vicious monsters and also creatures that have no definition in terms of species or form.  We sat on the edge of fountain in the main park of Tuban for some time by the pre-parade ogoh-ogoh staging area.  We watched families gather together in the merriment of the day, greatly enjoying the Indonesian people celebrate such a lively and entertaining part of their culture.  After getting some ice cream, it was time to head to the airport.  Thankfully we made it there before all the roads were closed due to the parade and in preparation for the upcoming Nyepi Day, or the Day of Silence.  The next day the entire island of Bali would be on complete lockdown.  The people of Bali would spend the day in quiet reflection, not-speaking, fasting and not engaging in any sort of activity, really.  I was sad to leave Bali, but glad that we wouldn't suffer the fate of the tourists left in Bali on Nyepi.  They had to remain in their hotels and couldn't leave the grounds.  Because the hotel staff was also observing the day of silence, there was only a skeleton crew to deliver limited food and service to the guests.  When I talked to a Norweigan couple who had visited Bali seven times and twice during the Balinese New Year, they said that the hotels even turned off the pool pumps so people who wanted to swim had to do so in filthy water.  It seems a little extreme, but Landon pointed out what a meaningful day it must be if you were Balinese and I had to agree in the beautiful simplicty of it all and the peace that spending a day in silence in the company of your loved ones would bring.

We arrived in Singapore around midnight, and went straight out to a nightclub to meet up with Julie and Cristine!  As soon as we set eyes on each other we rushed forward and hugged each other in tight embrances.  It was good to be back with my traveling crew, sadly minus Michael but happily plus one Landon Grace.  The girls were out with Julie's college friend Elise, who had recently moved to Singapore for her husband's job along with their 14-month-old little girl.  I could tell that living in a foreign city with a young child was difficult, but Elise was so sweet and charming and I told her I knew she'd find her niche in time.  Their posting is for two years after which they'll likely return to Dallas.  We ended the night at a bar in Clarke Quay, telling our stories from our week apart over overpriced beers.  The girls had had such fun in Rajasthan, and I laughed at their stories of a camel they named "Zenk" due his unfortunate possession of a Zenker's diverticulum (or so they thought), their dancing with the locals at a traditional Rajasthani restaurant and their beautiful camel ride through the sand dunes in the Thar desert.  We all lamented leaving India, going back over our beautiful time there, a trend that will continue even after we get back to the United States.  They had quite the adventures in Bali as well, and I admired their bravery at renting a moped in Ubud!  I was so happy to be back with them, knowing our foursome was going to have fabulous adventures together in the week ahead.

We dragged ourselves out of bed at 9 AM after only going to bed around 5:30 AM, and headed to catch our bus to Kuala Lumpur.  Now, after our experiences on the lovely India buses, I wasn't expecting much out of the "luxury bus" that Landon had booked.  Man was I pleasantly surprised!  Our five-hour journey to Kuala Lumpur was in an air-conditioned and clean charter bus supplied with personal TV's, Wi-Fi, a delicious Malaysian meal and seats that reclined.  Fantastic!  I watched "Marley and Me" when I wasn't gazing out the window at the gorgeous scenary of the Malay Peninsula as we traveled north from Singapore.  The geography was quite different than Singapore.  As the blue of the water receeded from view, the landscape was overtaken by what I can best describe as a true jungle.  Palm tree forests grew rampantly and wildly in every direction, and the hills rolled along with our rapidly moving bus.  Arriving in Kuala Lumpur I was shocked by the sprawling, modern city, resplendant with green gardens, fountains and gleaming skyscrapers.  Though it began to pour rain immeadiately upon disembarking the bus, we could still see much of the skyline and excitedly pointed out the imposing and majestic outline of the Petronas Towers whose twin figures we were famliar with from pop-culture (the movie "Entrapment", a highly entertaining flick with Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones.  Watch it, you'll love it.)  Landon arranged for us to stay at the Sahabat Guesthouse, a charming blue-painted villa near the city centre.  It is clean and quaint, with white-washed walls, quirky art decorations and each room is named after a spice.  Cristine and Julie are in Lemongrass, and Landon and I are in Lime.  How lovely.  Tonight we plan to experience some of the incredible Malaysian cuisine of Kuala Lumpur and then enjoy the nightlife of this thriving city.  Tomorrow we go to the Batu Caves and its famous temples, and after a day of exploration head to the airport to catch our flight to Thailand.

Enjoying every moment, always thinking and missing my loved ones back home, and grateful for the ones here with me.