7 am Phou Khoun, Laos, 1/22/15 “All things are full of weariness;
a man cannot utter it;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
nor the ear filled with hearing.
What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done,
and there is nothing new under the sun,” Ecclesiastes Chapter 1
And so it goes, dear readers, there is nothing new that I, a farm girl from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, can regale you with that you have not heard or seen or read in some similar fashion from yet another wandering soul or narcissistic blogger or selfie-tripping tourist. I can only offer what Polonius in Hamlet knew, “To thine own self be true” and the persistent notion that I must write.
On the one hand, I am filled with dread to expose my private self; paralyzed with fear that my ramblings will not be witty or wise or worse, sloppily crafted. Yet, on the other hand, I am driven to expel the rumination(s) that rattle around my brain and settle, like a leaf on the sea, to the page. So, what shall I write about? Time will tell.
Yes, I will write about my travels, not in a day to day diary per se, although this may occur if I deem the day interesting enough, but more about themes, about people, about stories, about places, and my observations, however limited by my Western world view. While some posts will occur as a result of being a mere mortal, with the accompanying baggage, most posts will be generated by bicycling in Thailand and Laos and by living in Thailand.
The road to Luang Namtha, Laos, 1/13/15 To illustrate, the other night, over his 4th glass of cheap, red wine (most cheap wines here are, sadly, of an unpleasant nature, unlike the cheap thrills gained by red wine from Trader Joes, and no, they do not support me - yet) an expatriate lamented his failed marriage and alleged betrayal by a Thai woman. Although this same story has been repeated ad nauseam by many a Westerner in the exotic Land of Smiles, maybe the telling makes him laugh at himself. Maybe the writing offers a cautionary tale or a sense of wonder to the reader: who’s fooling whom?
Dressed to kill, Mae Salong, Thailand, 2/10/15
There are also stories that need to be told about experiences which have yet to render my penned voice. After visiting the Vientiane museum, Cooperative Orthotic and Prosthetic Enterprise (COPE), and learning of the horrors of America’s secret war on Laos, I was so distressed by my birth nation’s horrific actions on the gentle Laotian people that I stored those memories in a part of my brain that I promised to visit later. For the little boy who perished from a “bombie” (unexploded bomb) while trying to support his family, and for the parents who cry for him, I will tell the story again.
No, I cannot promise fantastic pictures from my “not-so-smart” phone camera, nor will I ask you to follow me on Twitter or Instagram. Further, I promise not to stage pictures - unless I forewarn you - and to use only photos taken by myself or my husband. I do ask one thing, for you and for me, the ability to be forever curious: curious about your world, about my world, and the world of others, however many times the same stories have been repeated. My story is yet another nuance, and the hope for a collective solace in our never-ending growing under a jaded sun.
A red sun gives hot birth to a new day over our room at Jansupar Court, Chiang Rai, 2/24/15
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