tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79957921324518768372024-02-21T03:37:06.840-08:00The Wandering Mind of Sandi FieldJust a regular girl out traveling this beautiful world.hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-9804168762459918552014-03-17T03:54:00.001-07:002014-03-17T03:54:09.128-07:00I'm baaaaaaaack!Hello, old friends! Have you missed me? That's right, I'm back! This time, I'm in Thailand, looking for a job teaching English...or any job for that matter. So, let me catch you up...<br />
When last we spoke, I was living with Norm hoping to save money to get back to Thailand to earn my TESOL certification to teach English as a second language. Norm and I were planning to work out a situation where I could be gone for a few months each year, and he was planning on getting a passport.<br />
Then, real life set in. I went through a series of crappy minimum wage jobs, making it impossible to save money, and the lack of money gave way to my dependency on Norm, which in turn gave way to us being at each other's throats. We fought constantly, and I felt stuck. I suppose he did to, because over a year later, I still lived there even though I really didn't want to and he was still letting me, even though he clearly didn't want to. The hate in that house was overwhelming, and all the shiny happiness and optimism I'd brought home with me had been replaced with depression and anxiety. At least, I had managed to get my TESOL certificate early in the year, but it was just wasting away in an envelope in the corner of our room. Ironically, on the last day of the course, Kathy the instructor went around the room, asking us each a personal question, and the question she asked me was, "Sandi, what will you do if things don't work out the way you'd planned?"<br />
Thankfully, as I may have mentioned before, I have the two best grandmothers a girl could ever ask for. The grandmas took pity on me and for Christmas/birthday, they decided to give me just enough money to purchase a plane ticket and sustain me for at least a couple of months while I look for work in Thailand. I can't thank them enough...but I will keep trying!<br />
So here I am, back in Thailand, for nearly a month now. It's definitely not as easy as I'd hoped it would be. I think I can hear that damn question from Kathy in my head every night as I try to sleep. Frankly, nothing ever works out as planned, but it still always seems to work out.<br />
I am currently sending out resumes at least twice a week, and I've gotten a few responses to set up an interview, but no actual interviews yet. I have also decided to send my resume out to China...just in case. China is my backup plan, as there is no money or home to go home to, so giving up is NOT an option. See, China offers more than Thailand anyway: reimbursement of flight cost, free apartment, and about $2000 a month. Also, I can Skype interview for positions in China, something Thailand doesn't really do, so I could have a job and an apartment all set up before getting there. I can hear all my lovely little fans wondering, "Well, why the heck didn't she just go to China in the first place?" American life took a toll on my confidence and also, added a bit of fear. I am super nervous about being a teacher. 120 hours doesn't really feel like enough training, especially when you consider that you'd need at least 4 years of college to do the same thing in America. I wanted to learn to teach somewhere that I at least didn't also need to acclimate to a new country and culture, as well. But now, being here and remembering how this all started and how new it was then and realizing how much I love it all now, somehow makes China seem more "do-able." The goal was never to travel to teach, the goal was to teach to travel. I had planned to go to China next year anyway (and somewhere new each year after), so there shouldn't be anything holding me back from doing it now.<br />
So stay tuned, fans, there is definitely more to come! I will keep you updated, and I promise to post pictures of my adventures as well. Send me happy thoughts and job vibes until then.<br />
P.S. I missed you, too.hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-42653005428005427392012-08-31T13:03:00.001-07:002012-08-31T13:03:40.314-07:00Until we meet again..."Did you ever finish your blog?" My grandma asked me this a couple of weeks ago when she was out here visiting, and the sound of her voice sounded like teenaged me had forgotten to take the garbage out...again. I guess, I did leave all of you--my lovely fans--just kind of hanging, so here it is...the big finish.<br />
When we last heard from our super heroine, she was full of big plans for the future...has she followed through? Well, no, not exactly. But I'm working on it! What is the plan now? As the Thais would say, "Same, same. But different."<br />
The original plan was to get my old job back and save up enough money to drive across country so I could take care of Grandma while she heals from the knee surgery she needs. Once in Florida with her, I planned to work on saving enough money to get back to Thailand ASAP to obtain my English teaching certificate. I wanted to make it back to the States afterwards in time for my high school reunion, and then immediately apply for jobs in South East Asia.<br />
Well, first, my old job had replaced me. No biggie. I hadn't asked them to hold it, and I was not-so-secretly relieved to be forced to go elsewhere. Second, while talking to my <em>other</em> grandma, she let slip the big question, "What if Grandma doesn't have the surgery? I really don't think she's going to have the surgery." Since she had such a hard time healing from the first knee surgery, I knew my grandma had been putting off the second knee, but I didn't know she might not actually go through with it. So I called her up, and asked her, "Grandma, are you going to have the second surgery or not?" She said, "Well, I'll tell you what I told my doctor: I'll have the second surgery...when hell freezes over." With that being said, my grandma is a feisty old lady...uh, sorry Grandma...feisty <em>young</em> lady, and she sticks to her guns. So we talked it over and realized there was no point in me saving money in California to go to Florida to save money to go to Thailand. The jobs are even scarcer in her town than mine, so it would make the most sense to simply stay in California and save money for Thailand.<br />
I am currently back together and living with Norm. It is definitely a big adjustment for both of us, but we are doing our best to figure it out. He has very generously been supporting me since I got back to America, while I ease my way back into the real world. I recently got hired at Macy's, and I still plan on saving enough money to get back to Thailand ASAP (my goal is February) to earn my English teaching certification. <br />
I love travel, and I love Norm, and now we have to figure out a way for me to love both. We have tentatively agreed that if things continue to work out for us, that I will travel for about 3 months a year. It may be hard to find work overseas without at least a 6 month commitment, but there are definite possibilities, and I am also considering Mexico as a possible place for future employment, which would make occasional weekend visits to and from Norm, more of a possibility. And the biggest news for anyone who knows Norm...he has agreed to apply for a passport! I so want to share my new world with him, and although long term travel is not a possibility for him for at least the next 5 years (when his son graduates high school), I am more excited than even he knows at the thought of a tiny blue book with his name and photo in it.<br />
So I'm home for now, and let me tell you, it's not easy. At the beginning of this adventure, I remember reading all of the travel guides and noticing that each one made sure to include a chapter about coming home. They spoke of reverse culture shock. They spoke about the lack of enthusiasm your friends may have about your tales. They spoke of "ways to cope." I laughed. But it's true, it's all true. You come back a different person--a person you love, a person you are proud of, a shiny, sparkly, happy person. But everything is as you left it, and as soon as you get settled it, you remember why you left it, and your glitter dulls. Responsibility comes rushing back, and the world starts revolving around money again. What's a girl to do? So what do I do? Hmm...well, I obsessively stalk my fellow travelers' facebook pages, especially the ones still out on the road. I arrange and rearrange all of my trip photos into collages. I take cold showers with my eyes closed and pretend I'm in a hostel (I really do). I pinterest like crazy hoping to find a hobby to make the time go by faster. And more than anything, I keep reminding myself that everything I do now will pay off later. This all started with "The world begins at the end of your comfort zone." Well, I'm as uncomfortable as hell, so bring it.<br />
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Thank you to everyone who has followed me on this incredible journey. Thank you to God for bringing me home in one piece. Thank you to everyone I met. A special thank you to my awesome Grandmas for all of their support and help through my trip and my life. Thank you to Jenessa for the occasional password reset when my email got hacked on the road (3 times) and the wi-fi wasn't good enough for me to change my own password. Thank you to Aunt Sandy for the occasional bank run. Thank you to Little Bird Hostel in Chiang Mai for attracting the biggest bestest group of friends I'll ever meet in one place...twice. Thank you to Asia Dave for all your pre-trip advice and inspiration (especially and most obviously, the tip about Little Bird). Thank you to the Vietnamese nurse and the flight attendants on the very first flight. Thank you to the guy at the airport in Bali for the five bucks.<br />
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Bali</div>
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Slowboat to Laos</div>
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Wat Pho, Bangkok, Thailand</div>
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Bali</div>
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Laos</div>
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Memories</div>
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Chiang Mai, Thailand</div>
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The White Temple (Wat Rong Khun) Thailand</div>
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Cambodian border</div>
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Memories</div>
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Chiang Mai</div>
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Wat Pho, Bangkok, Thailand</div>
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hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-68210228514804332632012-06-06T01:21:00.001-07:002012-06-11T02:35:50.573-07:00Best Laid Plans Exactly two weeks from today, I will be on a plane going home to California. Oh, it hurts my heart just to think about it! But don't worry your pretty little heads, oh lovely little fans of mine, this story is not over yet! I promise all of you, this is only the beginning of my journey, and I'd love it if you would continue to come along.<br />
So here's the plan (well, tentatively)...<br />
I fly home June 20. Once there, fingers crossed, I can get my old job back. Yes, I remember how happy I was to "retire," but it's only for a couple of months. In August, Disco Kitty and I will be road-tripping from California to my grandma and Ethan in Milton, Florida (just outside of Pensacola). On the way we will see the Grand Canyon, Carlsbad Caverns, Austin, New Orleans, and anything else that piques my interest along the way. Hopefully, Disco will not hate me for making him ride in a car of some sort (hopefully mini-van or even better, camper) for 2 to 3 weeks, but I can't stand the thought of drugging him through an airplane flight.<br />
Once in Florida, I plan to live with Grandma and Ethan, get some sort of job (hopefully, office work), take a class or two at the college, and most importantly, convince Grandma to get her second knee surgery out of the way and support her through recovery.<br />
In the meantime, I will be saving up for my next trip. "And what will that be?" you must be asking. Geez, you're always so nosey. Haha, well my pretties, I hope it doesn't bore you that I am not planning to go into uncharted territory just yet, but instead, I am planning to redo parts of this trip...only better.<br />
Next March, I want to give India another try (yes, India) by attending their Holi Festival. Also known as the Festival of Colors, Holi is celebrated through most of India to mark the beginning of spring with a giant colored powder fight. If you don't come home to your hostel looking like a walking rainbow, then you haven't left the house. <br />
After Holi, it's back to my home away from home, Chiang Mai, Thailand, to get washed off at Songkran. Thai's celebrate their new year with a giant nation-wide water fight, and I missed it this year by only two days by going to India.<br />
I plan to stay in Chiang Mai after Songkran long enough to get certified to teach English as a second language...it's cheaper to do it here than at home. I'll then fly home to hit my 20 year high school reunion (oh god, 20 years??), then apply for jobs teaching in Laos or Cambodia. I don't think I'll have to pay for that flight back to South East Asia, because many programs pay for your flight and an apartment as long as you commit to teach for 6 months to a year.<br />
After all that, who knows? The world is my oyster and all that jazz, right? And like I said, these plans are tentative. Anything could change and quite possibly will. I have definitely learned to let fate tell me where to go, and I have no doubt that it will. So keep following me, because we still have a long way to go!<br />
Now here's a couple pictures of Angkor Wat to hold you over until the next blog post. Sorry I don't have more pictures of Cambodia yet, but I've spent most of the first week sitting on my butt in the hostel, thanks to a clumsy (maybe slightly intoxicated) roll of the ankle...<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvuPFLS0qeJEYz4CY7Oyus4VfKy6emdxdcb648tG_WPAIWLRAqXMvvZgkWtTOWI7fqcGeJNe-c6BD4XduiauwzvqldJf87odrQSYqLDenackmMihqahbOXnJbLbhbq6FDxkX1fv1xXIY/s640/blogger-image-1879796100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvuPFLS0qeJEYz4CY7Oyus4VfKy6emdxdcb648tG_WPAIWLRAqXMvvZgkWtTOWI7fqcGeJNe-c6BD4XduiauwzvqldJf87odrQSYqLDenackmMihqahbOXnJbLbhbq6FDxkX1fv1xXIY/s640/blogger-image-1879796100.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9nRT0nD0WvWE2WHnNb3ragl7-LWdr5uHIAh522cafaA3SBdFEpO4gbqCpExzfTvoxrh1nftmJ7m7UE_LZLVeW42RZK4dAapMVZlvd3pM0tpMRsG6E48RV90mQrTyyggwzHGaxWGmbf8/s640/blogger-image--694606857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCcZ-eHXHSJcdQQeucWGA3xLPIQtOw3wQf6P6mkUxAOO3Cr6knEZ_hB66UJoBPk1Q15Yjxws2Ayjy2d1CfMNmERfCZeJKYfaSykXJaBfPkbSrrsKv0jMAot2Mjcq_ImjmAOhAvxQtzlJ8/s640/blogger-image--1995567781.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjSL00ZJQrw-mb-mq-W6MvxmRjH0mhDdGfnnAiTRXcmCEiO-1CMJmZ8XPmiiInTnX8j0EXWl-weqYB4-1IgY7liaFfDCbadnd7lU2xY1nrM7rDxJIIwPAIojFLjc2X0nl6Lzvdv-qxbQ/s640/blogger-image-1226015802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjSL00ZJQrw-mb-mq-W6MvxmRjH0mhDdGfnnAiTRXcmCEiO-1CMJmZ8XPmiiInTnX8j0EXWl-weqYB4-1IgY7liaFfDCbadnd7lU2xY1nrM7rDxJIIwPAIojFLjc2X0nl6Lzvdv-qxbQ/s640/blogger-image-1226015802.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-9826276221037888982012-05-27T19:45:00.001-07:002012-05-27T20:07:27.938-07:00Chillaxing in Chiang MaiSo this time, I'm writing to you from my bed on a sleeper train in Thailand...a MUCH better ride than the sleeper bus of India. It's been a while since we last talked, almost a whole month. I do apologize, sweet fans of mine, but I have been taking a holiday from my holiday, chilling in Chiang Mai this entire time and well, I just didn't know quite how to stretch the days of lying by the pool and the nights of drinking at my favorite reggae bar into an entire blog entry. But here goes...<br />
I went directly from the chaos of India to the comfort of Little Bird hostel, hoping to find some more of the magic that I had experienced there two months before. I knew I could never recreate the family of friends I had made there the first time, but when in less than an hour of me dropping my bags and picking my bunk, Natalie, a welsh friend from my first round at Little Bird came into my room, I knew things were off to a good start. Like me, she was also escaping to her safety zone. Her boyfriend/traveling partner had gone to a meditation retreat at a monastery up north and instead of biding her time in Bangkok, she'd opted for a second dose of good old Chiang Mai. It was so good to hear her adorable little welsh accent as we caught up on the time we'd been away and reminisced about the times we'd had together. <br />
As if one old friend wasn't treat enough, I also had Charlotte from England and Jason from Australia to meet up with. Charlotte and Jason had been here on my first trip, staying at Little Bird while searching for English teaching jobs. Now roommates in their very own adorable and insanely inexpensive apartment, I spent most of this month hanging out with them. Charlotte and I especially, became very close, as it's been a while since either of us has been in one place long enough to have a "bestie." I had forgotten how much I love girl talk and gossip, and I miss her already. <br />
Hmmm...so let's see...I must have done something more than work on my tan and swap secrets with Charlotte. Well yes, every now and then. <br />
I went to a Muay Thai fight. I did that last time, though this one was a bit different. The first 4 fights were between children, for one thing. Young boys, some couldn't have been more than 10 years old. It was interesting I guess, but you do feel a little weird just chilling with a beer while watching a couple kids beat the crap out of each other. Thankfully, the last two fights were adult matches and one of the fighters was even an American guy from Alaska...he won, too! <br />
I also spent a day with a new friend, Chris, filling in for his friend Robbie, who was much to hungover to move. Chris and I went to see a crocodile show where he actually got his picture taken sitting (and even standing) on one of the croc's back! Wanting to keep all of my fingers and toes in place, I refused to go into the pool area, but I did get to reach over the fence to hold one by its tail...which didn't last long (slippery sucker). I was quite happy to be separated by the fence as he slithered away. We saw a monkey show that day, too. A bit humiliating for the poor furry little guys, they rode tricycles and played basketball and did all sorts of other silly tricks. <br />
My favorite thing I did was by far the ladyboy cabaret that Charlotte and I went to see. A proper drag show, those ladies do put on a great show! One even did a number to Frank Sinatra's "My Way" where he started out dressed like Marilyn Monroe, then as the song progressed, removed his falsies, his makeup, his wig, and his dress so that by the time he sang the last big "I did it myyyyyyy wayyyyyy," he was wearing a suit and looking like the man he starts out as every morning. It was pretty amazing to watch the transformation in reverse.<br />
I also spent an evening at Charlotte and Jason's place where their friend Ah cooked up a feast of traditional Thai food (and yes, I even liked some of it), saw a couple of movies (The Avengers and American Pie Reunion) both of which rocked, caught a traditional thai holiday parade (completely by luck), pet a baby elephant while visiting the Chiang Mai zoo, and spent a weekend giving the town of Pai another shot (it is truly way more fun when not suffering from the horrible head cold I had last time) where I swam in a waterfall, saw some canyons, and got covered in day-glo paint at the Spicy Pai full moon party.<br />
All in all, I loved my decision to do Chiang Mai, round 2. I got to see old friends, met new ones, and had some of the best times I've had on this whole trip. Now I'm heading off to Cambodia, and let's just say it's got a lot to live up to. <div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFqvlaRHzmTOn4EjN8lh3bo6PHQiMVpGyxDLNiXe42UdvAkSc2q9mEazCr6t2x5paDBINFz8Kz4XZVe3OaScI01mSoGFg3_BNuqooEK5okSc2n-mTRjWneiSPuleXHOpTEj22OjwAzQU/s640/blogger-image-469335806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFqvlaRHzmTOn4EjN8lh3bo6PHQiMVpGyxDLNiXe42UdvAkSc2q9mEazCr6t2x5paDBINFz8Kz4XZVe3OaScI01mSoGFg3_BNuqooEK5okSc2n-mTRjWneiSPuleXHOpTEj22OjwAzQU/s640/blogger-image-469335806.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PFZxnpaa5mbSxgYmi9k8daMZsnTVIx3Bxo_bckYGEWTXAbwc-kgfJQ7bhdI1VbJXPiSWGhKjVTtAo4ixJ-6_50uELZdXk0vD7uqH5T9lxIxIG6g7bhKbypObqbrcd_92ruTofRWSllk/s640/blogger-image-61515488.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz-uahfWU5o9x0IdIJMDlNY8FldBq5pu1jWdVps9xEZOK3oXIKIvS9jbZDkfJj4Y1nVJL6OVAmTj8Y3I7Pv347QSFRTYQDXudtKqywKZk6RN7hsgI9DqbddgJQFoNM8wZw2elFjGS0hw/s640/blogger-image-687439438.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3E674Kz6RAYwSpSsyPVrDleFyu6k-qt6tAc-c2YbZTTRWxuStlOelrKBytZnGZybfTPj0qWRoOM9s_tNF3Z9eg_4qPdZ90U8Y_zaxx8vJIf2t1Jy6NT9nUJy5Iqu_iwsW3x9s-qWsWtE/s640/blogger-image--187725510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3E674Kz6RAYwSpSsyPVrDleFyu6k-qt6tAc-c2YbZTTRWxuStlOelrKBytZnGZybfTPj0qWRoOM9s_tNF3Z9eg_4qPdZ90U8Y_zaxx8vJIf2t1Jy6NT9nUJy5Iqu_iwsW3x9s-qWsWtE/s640/blogger-image--187725510.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-27709178876728944502012-04-28T20:17:00.001-07:002012-04-28T20:42:54.908-07:00Famous, Frantic, and Furious, part two Before I finish the story, let me just tell you all, without any regrets, I gave up on India and left a week early. It is simply not meant to be traveled alone by a female. I'm not saying no girl could do it, I'm not even saying I won't go back, I'm just saying its hard as hell and I met one other girl who gave up early and another who's about to, because it's that's how hard it is! Now back to the story...<br />
So by the time Andrew and I had made it to our fourth city in a week, I had completely shut down and barely spoken a word in two and a half days. But our fourth town, Udaipur, was much more welcoming than any other we'd been to (or any other I'd go to, for that matter). The men rarely leered and the four month old guesthouse we'd found was beautiful, clean, and ever so friendly. The first day there, I ran some errands and let Andrew go sight seeing alone. When we met up, he asked if I wanted to go to dinner. I<br />
said sure, and he said, "Ok, but first we're going to talk." Not asking or even suggesting, just telling. Whatever. He asked what my problem was and I told him. I was tired of being so rushed, I was tired of him complaining about the parts of India we couldn't change, I was tired of him, and I was just plain tired. He said he refused to keep traveling with someone who wasn't talking to him, and I said, "That's fine but there's not much we can do since you've already booked the next four trains." He said he'd give me my money back and I said, "Sounds good." So he left the next morning and after 7 frantic and tearful calls to Grandma (I use wi-fi for calls and the Internet kept dropping), I decided to spend the next 5 days in Udaipur and then fly down to Pune to visit my friend Mickey (a young gay Indian I'd met in Bangkok). From there I'd go to the beaches of Goa and then on to Kochi, where my flight back to Bangkok was scheduled. <br />
The first 4 days with Mickey were great fun, even if he was a little anal retentive..."Wipe off the bathroom sink when your done, I don't like to see water on the counter," is just one of many examples. But Mickey hung out in a group of wealthy young partiers. He took me to grand parties at fancy hotels, he had a servant, and his friends took us out to eat at restaurants nicer than I'd ever stepped foot in. On the fifth night, Mickey made it clear that partying was much more important than my happiness or my safety, and when he said, "These are my friends forever, you're just a visitor," we'll, that pretty much summed it up, and I hit the road the next morning at the crack of dawn. I decided to skip Goa and Kochi and just hightail it out of india. Four rickshaws, two cabs, one hired car, one flight to Bangkok, two subway rides, one 12 hour bus, and one tuk-tuk ride later, I have safely made it back to Chiang Mai, Thailand, my favorite town on my trip so far and back to A Little Bird hostel, my home away from home, where I might just sit out my entire 30 day Thai visa. I just arrived a couple hours ago and have already met up with old friends, Charlotte and Jason and had one of Tip's famous smoothies. I am in my happy place and it feels so good. Here are a few more pretty pics of my own private hell (India).<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGSduwbPZL85sGHhQR-aHJN8yC0SYPgUccLwqKMGI1_D7fbebMBzYktjUHRK9JcVoK6hcpzW0ENJuaEGvrL9DlJPZir9Rb6mZiruTjGkV53YNAQE1zKALioT5b51EqomH81M_jyke7Bw/s640/blogger-image--2042406199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGSduwbPZL85sGHhQR-aHJN8yC0SYPgUccLwqKMGI1_D7fbebMBzYktjUHRK9JcVoK6hcpzW0ENJuaEGvrL9DlJPZir9Rb6mZiruTjGkV53YNAQE1zKALioT5b51EqomH81M_jyke7Bw/s640/blogger-image--2042406199.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVv9koLn-re98iPmvoaqVOEeyCXj5wi0Vo3DlmTdrLR3zWPYNDh1cPFPCunxg1o6SbfzXvVL9EXkiKI1WMNK7v-nO8nLTBtvPVj81PbunoWJr66zMzRTjQig57C1TKUeYu5_0dcKbLAk/s640/blogger-image--475979426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVv9koLn-re98iPmvoaqVOEeyCXj5wi0Vo3DlmTdrLR3zWPYNDh1cPFPCunxg1o6SbfzXvVL9EXkiKI1WMNK7v-nO8nLTBtvPVj81PbunoWJr66zMzRTjQig57C1TKUeYu5_0dcKbLAk/s640/blogger-image--475979426.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8rvfqF5Eky0gS94ZXcC5djbXM_Bi0MYF55nE90_bD7IF-RIjm95ErzHPrUcWPwTEjrnhx7-TeqFtEe95xiSZ-sq5x6En17XdxN-914xhwdmvDtvir9JDsmJpyv6XDhSIETCZDJmnJ28/s640/blogger-image-847672545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8rvfqF5Eky0gS94ZXcC5djbXM_Bi0MYF55nE90_bD7IF-RIjm95ErzHPrUcWPwTEjrnhx7-TeqFtEe95xiSZ-sq5x6En17XdxN-914xhwdmvDtvir9JDsmJpyv6XDhSIETCZDJmnJ28/s640/blogger-image-847672545.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2FRU6IxQ1YGiW84KS0R9dB2rAMDkA5k23BUYKNK8byylDeb8BoXp6PyGZ4dKTj5zFHsM8b6RKyVjDUhuRStsmw2UMVWoRuNSpYETK_C214gBM7DUuJFQhPZEGUxY0QyjQay8AWKbf2nE/s640/blogger-image-1527909316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2FRU6IxQ1YGiW84KS0R9dB2rAMDkA5k23BUYKNK8byylDeb8BoXp6PyGZ4dKTj5zFHsM8b6RKyVjDUhuRStsmw2UMVWoRuNSpYETK_C214gBM7DUuJFQhPZEGUxY0QyjQay8AWKbf2nE/s640/blogger-image-1527909316.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTNUoeRVjSQPrsWZCYRYuZUYFVcuR7KJ2OP08AYWTgj1xzajfLnPapIspd90ORz7pkdzE_OYOhzAOJ4BNKdF0PRdSrkd2V_pYsV9mBmOcZ5_m-ufC_rHlvFxvrg8acqnRhP-2Zsp5XWg/s640/blogger-image-203314413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTNUoeRVjSQPrsWZCYRYuZUYFVcuR7KJ2OP08AYWTgj1xzajfLnPapIspd90ORz7pkdzE_OYOhzAOJ4BNKdF0PRdSrkd2V_pYsV9mBmOcZ5_m-ufC_rHlvFxvrg8acqnRhP-2Zsp5XWg/s640/blogger-image-203314413.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicaBbUuN806VuA4TOQoPC7lbRt-qZuKh_rugJJjYKppiXEkLEDwd0PiAf49lFdrZC12euKnM7LoDUH7Smrz1_EUhXXcS8pJukIFGvOoFsTxLXhL_vhsMx1JK45V67_qLEsoECd1NAGCCc/s640/blogger-image-441862939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJGBzhn9CzxSIQkwLPjCpf347Bv6aXlUe4STX7N0HnbgADsIVZ4RiWRUBV86mGeef8ZuMM7VGZW_N6lJWIY6ON4GssFP3BndtzprOqCNd1egsZivzNbsnpc0G7ks7-J7-Jz1G3NzjXqw/s640/blogger-image-930657558.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-1337694778783089962012-04-24T04:06:00.001-07:002012-04-24T04:06:22.593-07:00Famous, Frantic, and Furious...Part 1 I am currently lying in "bed" on my first ever sleeper bus in India on my way from Udaiper back to Jaipur for a flight to visit my friend Mickey in Pune. Well, if you could call this "lying." Basically, I'm crammed into a bed that's less than 2 feet wide and 5 and a half feet long, made even smaller by the fact that I also had to fit my giant backpack as well as my daypack and my purse in here with me. I am literally bouncing four to five inches into the air every few minutes, and I am closed in by a sliding tinted window that's meant to be for privacy but really, I think it's the only thing keeping me from bouncing off my bed and into the aisle below. To top it all off, I decided to try and type out this very blog on my iPod between bounces, because I knew I had been neglecting you, my sweet devoted fans.<br />
A lot has happened since we last talked, so let me catch you up. I spent a glorious week soaking up sun on Koh Chang, an island in Thailand. I did manage to try half a happy shake. I would have had a whole one, but the guy who picked them up forgot mine, so while another friend shared his with me, the guy went back on his scooter to get mine...AFTER chugging his. BIG mistake. My happy shake ended up splattered on the road, the scooter ended up smashed, and my poor friend ended up breaking his jaw in two places! Moral of the story: don't shroom and scooter. Half a happy shake didn't do much, but I did walk back to my guesthouse alone and caught the end of Sherlock Holmes with the Thai guys that live there, and let me tell you, in spite of everything I'd just seen (my poor friend was not a pretty picture), I was pretty damn happy to be watching what seemed to be one of the best movies ever, even though I'd missed the first hour and a half and the voices kept switching from English to dubbed in Thai, because of the lightening storm rolling in. Pretty damn happy to be watching Sherlock freaking Holmes, for Pete's sake!<br />
After Koh Chang, I went back to Bangkok, picked up my visa for India, and a week later, flew to Delhi to meet Andrew, the guy I'd met in Laos.<br />
Before I get into that, let me just take a break to brag that just now, I managed to unpack and repack my giant backpack to get to the warm flannel pj pants and long sleeve t-shirt at the very bottom, then change clothes, while bouncing like a popcorn kernel, all while wearing my trusty headlamp, because even though the air con in my bunk works all too well, the light doesn't work at all. <br />
Now, back to Delhi...and Andrew. Well, it all seemed fine at first. We met up in Delhi where he had booked us into one of the shittiest of shitholes (pardon my French), but I didn't mind--it had a tiny tv and I found a couple cockroaches but no bed bugs. On the 3 and a half hours of sleep I'd had, he took me on about 8 hours of sight seeing, mostly on foot. I didn't want to be the whiny American so I powered through. Over the next week, we took 2 trains, 1 bus, saw 4 cities, at least 3 forts, and numerous other sights that I can't even remember because I was so freaking exhausted! I kept trying to tell him that it was too much, too fast and that I was going way over my daily budget, but he either wasn't listening or didn't care. By the time we got to Udaiper, the 4th stop, I had just shut down on him and had barely spoken a word in 2 and a half days. I mean, what's the point in talking to someone who won't listen? <br />
To make matters worse, being a white girl in India is one of the biggest challenges I've faced on my journey so far. The first couple of days, I could make light of it, parts of it weren't too bad. Every little girl under 16, looks at me in awe and smiles like they'd just seen a famous Hollywood movie star. Men and women come up and ask if they can take a photo with me. Little schoolboys politely introduce themselves and then question both Andrew and I about our homelands. "Cause I'm a celebrity, woohoo," I would joke to Andrew. But it was the leering that got to me. I'm not exaggerating when I say that EVERY single man that we walked by in the first 3 cities would just stare at my chest as they passed us. The ones walking with their wife and children, the ones riding bicycles or driving rickshaws, the one's running food stands...EVERY single one, no matter how flattened and covered I kept them. At the tourist sites, men were constantly sneaking photos on their phones, some wouldn't even try to hide it. Working at at the front door of a strip club for 7 years helped me to ignore it for the first 3 or 4 days, but by about day 5 when we were out at night looking for a place to eat, and some man tried petting my back and shoulder while Andrew was busy gawking at some Bollywood movie theater (which also pissed me off because from the outside, it looked like any other freaking movie theater), I'd had enough. I lost it, bawled my eyes out, and ended up calling my grandma at home for the first time on this whole trip, to calm me down. She did her best of course, because she is awesome, but it was too late-- I was hating India and I was hating Andrew. <br />
Let me pause again to tell you that our bus just stopped for a half hour break to use the restroom, smoke cigarettes, and/or stock up on snacks, I was the one and only westerner among the three buslloads of people and one of only about 15 women all together. Needless to say, I drew quite a crowed as I stood there smoking a cig, surrounded by at least 30 men, ALL staring...and whispering, laughing, and occasionally pointing. You'd think I was standing there naked as a jay bird, instead of covered fully by the long sleeved t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms I so artfully put on earlier. <br />
And with that, I must say, to be continued. It's 1:30 in the morning, I'm tired, and my iPod battery is running low. Hopefully, I have wi-fi tomorrow so I can publish this and brain power enough to whip up part two. I'll add some pics now of some of India's finer points, including nome other than than...the Taj Mahal! I love you all, and I promise to pick this up where I left off in the next few days.<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIg4FcRhMqvNDHvau-KoGT4EsZqiNsjabVnJZaV5wPzGO98Fb3j8tesToXAYQHQfE0LoNB0uuXET38JYr3ZBacjL3rrps9csteQKVFCeaFUt2IxWfm2piz3rbkvfwOQ9yJzV3m_27AGYQ/s640/blogger-image--251055148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIg4FcRhMqvNDHvau-KoGT4EsZqiNsjabVnJZaV5wPzGO98Fb3j8tesToXAYQHQfE0LoNB0uuXET38JYr3ZBacjL3rrps9csteQKVFCeaFUt2IxWfm2piz3rbkvfwOQ9yJzV3m_27AGYQ/s640/blogger-image--251055148.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3h_Wdbwxsgl1s0y140dy6B9F9pD6YjBkAS1BxmQDaD6gK3G6ZdJqhuy-hG335bhbMrP45coaNUiAx9QlON7MV2MV_tAY44nQ0UBrK7oNvdrW_Vyww52VZiR3cLotKI1WEPUckxpyVn0/s640/blogger-image--2050009337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50Qe0jSX6ZVf_xNHeNFEerNRuBcKua_JhEU1ey9dYsd1wBlzqpCcJhZrMZdep5HJCJOo3m9aslQt-OR1WPSrc_MqUONybGb1TCrAk9C7QaPDk_kqJfOErGanMoAnZ0aDsy6z8NLTrJWQ/s640/blogger-image-1004857398.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-36150379738881868632012-04-02T23:59:00.001-07:002012-04-03T04:09:40.098-07:00Foreign relationsOk, I'd like to take this blog to discuss a few other topics besides where I'm at and what I've been doing, but since I don't want to let down my adoring fans (32 now, I think!), here's the short version:<br />
Took the slow boat to Laos, where I rode elephants, went tubing, drank a lot, and learned to kayak. On a day when I was deciding between getting the extended 60 day visa to go back in to Thailand or go straight from Laos to Vietnam and Cambodia and wishing I had someone else to do all the planning and decision making, an Australian friend was wishing for a travel partner to go to India with, so BAM! India is back on the itinerary! Took the night train back to Bangkok to secure my Indian visa and now I'm hanging out on the Thai island of Koh Chang until April 7th when I will head back to Bangkok to pick up my visa and wait for my flight to India on the 11th.<br />
Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Facebook. On behalf of myself and all my fellow backpackers, I'd like to thank Mark Zuckerberg for creating Facebook. I've heard some say, "I don't know what backpackers did before the Internet." But more than the Internet alone, Facebook has had a huge impact on backpacking and I don't know how we survived without it. With only email, my grandma would have only heard from me every few weeks, and a few close friends would have heard from me even less. I would have come home to missed birthdays and babies, new jobs, new relationships, new homes. Earlier in this blog, I said that I didn't plan to contact home too often while I was gone, and I take it all back. I have enjoyed bringing all of my friends and family members along for the ride as much as they have loved coming. On the rare bad or lonely day, it's been comforting to know that I can simply log on and complain, and almost instantly, my friends back home are there to cheer me up. Gone are the days when I would have had to send a pathetic tearful email and waited for hours, if not days, for the recipient to see and respond. It has also opened up a whole new line of connection with fellow travelers. I'm sure before Internet, if you made a new friend on the road, you exchanged addresses, vowed to stay pen pals for life, wrote once a month for a while, then slowed to once a year before eventually losing contact all together. Email may have prolonged this a bit, but Facebook has given a more realistic option to being able to stay "friends forever." Not to mention it has helped tremendously while I'm still traveling. I can go to a new town or country, and by updating my status, my fellow travelers can suggest good cheap places to stay, or even meet me at my destination because they are headed there, too. I have not met one single backpacker who didn't have Facebook. There is a term "flashpacker," used to disdainfully refer to the type of traveler who carries a suitcase with wheels instead of a backpack, wears a full face of makeup to go on the organized "trek" they paid hundreds of dollars to join, always stays in private rooms because the idea of sharing a dorm or even a bathroom is beneath them, and carries an armload of electronics to stay connected to the western world they paid so much to leave behind. But even the dirtiest, smelliest, hippiest backpacker can be found hunkered up in a hammock, updating their Facebook status and loading a new profile picture. So thanks Mark Zuckerberg, the backpacker community owes you big.<br />
I'd also like to talk about the lack of American travelers. I have met tons of Germans, hoards of Australians, and plenty of English, Dutch, and Swedes. But with the exception of one magical moment in Chiang Mai, Thailand, when there were 7 of us at once, I very rarely run into fellow Americans, and even rarer still, American females. Most Americans use the excuse, "I can't afford it," even though we are considered to be possibly the richest country in the world. "I don't have the time," is another good one since I'm sure we have the highest population of tv watching couch potatoes, myself included of course. And "I can't do it while the children are young," seems just plain silly considering how many giant families of Australians and English I've seen trotting their kids around Thailand, through the streets of Laos, and dining in Bali. It's no more dangerous than a trip to Walt Disney World or Hawaii, and probably cheaper these days than the gas it would take to get a motor home across America for a summer trip to the beach...and a lot more culturally rewarding and educational. Sure, I could easily be considered a hypocrite since I was able to afford this by living rent free for nearly a year, but I guarantee, I'll never get that lucky again, and I have no intention of letting this be my last great trip. A little less shopping, a few more meals cooked at home, and foregoing expensive cable channels is really all it will take. So, what are YOU waiting for?<br />
Finally, I'd like to address the opinions other western countries have of Americans...it's not good. It's often been suggested (especially in the George W. Bush era) that Americans tell other travelers they are Canadian. Some even go so far as to sew a Canadian flag patch on their backpack! When another westerner (someone from a non-Asian country) hears my accent, the polite thing to ask is, "Are you Canadian?" Not because they can actually tell the difference between a Canadian and American accent, but because they would never want to offend some poor sweet Canadian by accusing them of being an obnoxious American! I even have a friend who whenever asked where she is from, quickly follows up her answer of " America," with the disclaimer, "but I am moving to Australia." Now, I'm not some intensely patriotic American girl who thinks my country is the only one worth living in. I think it's a big beautiful world, and who knows where I'll end up? But no matter what my forwarding address becomes or how many digits are in my phone number, I'll always be American, and denying that seems as pointless as denying that I have brown eyes or giant size 10 feet. I would much rather change people's perspective. My English friend Emma once told me in Chiang Mai, "Sandi, I'm really glad I got to meet you and some of the others, because until now, I had a pretty poor opinion of Americans based on the few that I'd met. You guys have really changed my outlook on Americans." BEST COMPLIMENT EVER. So get out here and help me change the world's opinion..and if I haven't convinced you to go buy a ticket yet, here's a few pictures that may help...<br />
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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSwjSYKkr6uvWzC4p4A8DDe6p7nuCMnaVFFwblaw8EqyXMktIN9TPItUSfKoxP3xx6Uu9faiCgKxI_HbSwm85XYSqSEboFZPE2BU3ma05843KnE9jxa9GCyJG-oN3EepuBNJwDb-zZ4g/s640/blogger-image-418437519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSwjSYKkr6uvWzC4p4A8DDe6p7nuCMnaVFFwblaw8EqyXMktIN9TPItUSfKoxP3xx6Uu9faiCgKxI_HbSwm85XYSqSEboFZPE2BU3ma05843KnE9jxa9GCyJG-oN3EepuBNJwDb-zZ4g/s640/blogger-image-418437519.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-81938666890218351602012-03-15T08:14:00.001-07:002012-04-10T08:23:06.664-07:00I am aliveSo here I am, did you think I'd forgotten about you, my lovely fans? Yes, I know it's been a while, but I've been busy. <br />
Chiang Mai, Thailand is so far my favorite place, as A Little Bird hostel became my home away from home. It's funny, my new friends will gladly tell you I didn't do much while I was there. I started each morning with a wonderful fruit smoothie from Tip, a very sweet young Thai woman, and ended each night drinking with new friends, while most of the days were spent at the hotel pool or eating burgers at Duke's (yes, I still love my western food). At times, I felt guilty for not doing anything I couldn't do at home, but then I realized that the people I was meeting were the kind of people I left home to find...my people. As many of you know, it's always been important to me to find friends without the usual American racial biases and homophobias. Not that every American is racist or homophobic, but well, more often than not, they are. And not that every traveler is as open-minded as I'd like them to be, but well, more often than not, they are...even the Americans. I've learned so much from the people I've met, about America, about the world, and about me.<br />
When my new friends heard that I planned to wait to go to Pai (about 4 hours north of Chiang Mai), they said, "No! Come with us!" I was so touched by the invitation, that off I went.<br />
Admittedly, Pai was a little out of my comfort zone. It was an adorable little artsy town that I would love to see more of, but we stayed at a hostel that felt like more of a young, party crowd. When I got there, I was miserably sick with a head cold and so I landed myself in a hammock where I spent most of the next four days. I did manage to peel myself out for a little partying the night of the full moon when we christened Spicy Pai hostel with its first ever costume party. You'd be surprised what we backpackers can do with a little duct tape, tin foil, and leaves.<br />
From Pai, we brought a few extras back to Chiang Mai with plans of staying together through a trip on the slowboat to Laos. What used to be a ride on the space left on cargo boats down the Mekong river, has now become 2 days (with an overnight stop in a seedy little border town) on a giant boat with tightly crammed, very uncomfortable, bus-type seats. The border town stops (one before catching the first boat, one before catching the second) were miserable. Bed bugs, spiders, power outages, hunger, and uncomfortable sleep were bringing a new level of crabbiness to our little group and I was convinced this country hated me. But we finally made it to Luang Prabang, began going our separate ways while we still had enough love for each other to remain Facebook friends, and in spite of an unfortunate incident where I slammed two fingers in a door (nearly breaking them, and probably needing stitches, but band aids will have to do) Laos and I are slowly becoming friends. I spent today swimming in waterfalls, tomorrow we will be taking a boat ride through caves filled with discarded statues of Buddha, and I'm pretty sure I may have found an elephant trek that doesn't involve animal cruelty for later in the week. I even found myself saying today, that if I decide to get my English language teaching certificate when I get home, that I think I'd like to find work in Laos. Laos and I might become lovers after all.<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIW__RPjLPNpE0YJoQX37O2Ro47dkrIIz19EjtD1oNbNXrkGAFHvX0SqexH8dK-tcIKjOjgEfGykunw5SA4FH8VSYRV7iWIjGrpaAYyRvvg8owgp1EHFIoQsWnWG7OtzGe-e4DVwoANFk/s640/blogger-image-589596137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIW__RPjLPNpE0YJoQX37O2Ro47dkrIIz19EjtD1oNbNXrkGAFHvX0SqexH8dK-tcIKjOjgEfGykunw5SA4FH8VSYRV7iWIjGrpaAYyRvvg8owgp1EHFIoQsWnWG7OtzGe-e4DVwoANFk/s640/blogger-image-589596137.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozk25UvCGYlR1rStoARrTbUTxWnS9OgRav3mEoTov4SewQcU9rdgUrJx6JjCz2_ljzzyu46VJBHjMnjMB0NrgpPEXK5Oh1NTs-388LSc00Kk8KQEwbcWtutYhe3gCAexHekV6lZlljL8/s640/blogger-image-1124810374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLpscNlr3qM_n-mDV1aVHrAV6oWdtM2o_fkQBtCUAY9vhqpJELMHr2iDl7uPdZQkaNqJZQIm9Fb-OMGufyRPHVzs0OcOCkfYeW6IyyPmrRpqIl-48gRvEbTP4gKlACrWWd8kIkVMZhans/s640/blogger-image--1540801095.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXNtSffL45r305JRWpAE2qQzwKqwG4PwSeA2g8GavBwIzugaMfWgc7KYY366U6wkr6WjOF6A66893XwAdIrtuj3orea-KVCYQ70rpcOw6XWPGS7hnRCt2JMPP_14u109J7X2R-zAHIiTw/s640/blogger-image-1119711072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXNtSffL45r305JRWpAE2qQzwKqwG4PwSeA2g8GavBwIzugaMfWgc7KYY366U6wkr6WjOF6A66893XwAdIrtuj3orea-KVCYQ70rpcOw6XWPGS7hnRCt2JMPP_14u109J7X2R-zAHIiTw/s640/blogger-image-1119711072.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-37025591581927324932012-02-24T02:51:00.001-08:002012-02-24T04:08:57.699-08:00BONUS POST: The Whole Thing (the place where I stay & a buttload of
Instagram fun)So I've met quite a few westerners who run restaurants around here, including a smart Californian who just opened up what seems to be the first Mexican restaurant in Phuket town (yay, tacos!). And I was talking to Tommy the Scot about the price. Apparently it's against the law for foreigners to own land here, so I asked about the rent. "We'll, it depends on the place, but this whole thing," he says, "is only 9000 baht a month. This WHOLE thing." What that means is that "this whole thing," including the upstairs: enough space for about 12 beds well divided, each with a nightstand and plenty of room to walk, a wall of storage lockers, another whole side I noticed yesterday that I think is just used for extra storage for the store, and the downstairs: a very large space that is an antique store with glass cases full of tiny cars, walls of Beatles memorabilia, and as if it were made for me, LOTS of classic VW merchandise!<br />
***Side Note!...I keep forgetting to brag, but how crazy is it that I am staying at the one place where an entire car club of classic volkswagen owners, all young 20-something Thai guys except for the one beautiful dread locked South Korean guy (I wish I could take his picture without feeling like a stalker, because he's like super model status!) all hang out/work/eat/drink/and occasionally stay?? And I get to see their adorable bugs and buses everyday!<br />
Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah, the downstairs also doubles as a cafe/bar so the back side also has the kitchen and in the middle are the two showers, two toilets, 3 sinks, and one urinal...ALL of this is just under $300 a month!!!<br />
That's insane.<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikC2ibwxA8I-ZVZNCzLTPXuKk3s47Bo9CIfEnPn-FhfP35KNmOr9_fJ014_wfr71PhmJo7dOLiwKeELl4tigO_WZYKCeQbvEJFF09pIW4lagoGfbqXpPq_Ew2CVMUcPAXV2ieSejwLwqg/s640/blogger-image-1956508849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikC2ibwxA8I-ZVZNCzLTPXuKk3s47Bo9CIfEnPn-FhfP35KNmOr9_fJ014_wfr71PhmJo7dOLiwKeELl4tigO_WZYKCeQbvEJFF09pIW4lagoGfbqXpPq_Ew2CVMUcPAXV2ieSejwLwqg/s640/blogger-image-1956508849.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJIJ-gEMrXaaXzvizAd5v7jysxUSR29fjw5JF0sF2jjhJfiMf7fxqYxVD5SfwYhRlnZimEqOSfWy9Wbq1Z3fpnhPq5M3wJjYRASutjUUSgCPekpTXcYlZuk7vV7PpkS5wq9NmNEJtTz8/s640/blogger-image--977130047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRBTSBr7hsvuojgJ35fnTkVcaAqfmnvP4UY2HEKBPFvP1aEuwJI2dsC9ffOrScVRdAphotYqqBYWrQQngwuYT9Eibr0uHFb-WwOGFotL9OJWHg7NtupzVk8g8enkR33r7hYX6A-dSDp4/s640/blogger-image-1698301182.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivleeCYKJbT_qQgFyxBDEcs6HlylbapUS6n2LX8rG5NQQk1QiK5bmol_HGN-FYmh0zEsP52MQZfm8WahKaP-wC4o0xHymmsPkv1gK3KoFppaNAX-U2LHKgtn5Zu1DmRbUbstHyn-9WxNY/s640/blogger-image--1987685330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivleeCYKJbT_qQgFyxBDEcs6HlylbapUS6n2LX8rG5NQQk1QiK5bmol_HGN-FYmh0zEsP52MQZfm8WahKaP-wC4o0xHymmsPkv1gK3KoFppaNAX-U2LHKgtn5Zu1DmRbUbstHyn-9WxNY/s640/blogger-image--1987685330.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyjbwiIf_AAl83w9VKV6kyzXVpjUernPOXyyFgaJuCPiquLhuyohH0O3BFxAkkD8lBSKGHJO2JyX2XmUKFG9_n7BcdiCtV63epGwPtxYrpd_jFF74TgDxZuIsJoDRa0wFGivPIT83GOA/s640/blogger-image-1125680163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxjYK4NtxH5gtRMKHVVAz7tWgb7xTrQxD4ejpGijm0Hcthyphenhyphen4EGCwz0PSTkqixJDhaz9G3bJ8sd-UGF1tIiF0-og7Bu-W2VwuJ56c0s6Pe3IZcLrlPItQt4hlNFa8nlwhI-4GbCdQF7PY/s640/blogger-image--1087882121.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-46933122901140850612012-02-22T06:08:00.001-08:002012-02-22T17:33:55.843-08:00Everyday AdventuresWell, I've been trying to wait until I did something exciting before I posted a blog, but this heat is killing me so the only real Thailand activity I've participated in since arriving in Phuket (sounds like poo-ket, not what you were thinking) is getting a genuine Thai massage. But today I ran errands, so I thought I'd tell you about that. Trust me, it will be better than it sounds.<br />
First off, the list:<br />
1.find a place to get laundry done.<br />
2.find a pharmacy<br />
3.find an ATM<br />
4.find the bus station<br />
5.find the market<br />
6.find lunch<br />
7.find my way home<br />
8.write this blog<br />
Obviously, the key word being the hardest part, "Find."<br />
So when I got up this morning, I stumbled downstairs to the antique shop/cafe/bar to find Tommy the Scottish wanderer who managed to wander into Phuket 3 years ago and hasn't left yet. Tommy used to rent an apartment but now stays in the bed next to mine upstairs. Don't worry Grandma, the beds are all separated by sheets like hospital beds. Tommy is also my go-to guy for my many many MANY questions (as well as a very generous joint roller--pretend you didn't hear that, Grandma). Unfortunately, Tommy's accent is a thick mixture of Scottish and English (he lived in England for years and considers that his home) so I frequently ask him questions only to ask again the next day when there's no music playing maybe, or better light, because if I stare at his mouth, I generally have an easier time figuring out what the hell he's saying. Anyways, Tommy gives me directions to the bus station and the market, and I think I kind of understand where he's saying the pharmacy is. I'll find an ATM myself along the way, and he is dropping off his laundry so kindly offers to take mine as well. Sounds easy enough, so off I go. <br />
I manage to find the a pharmacy, I have no idea if it's the one Tommy told me to find, but it will do. I needed a pill that would be like Benadryl to help ease the itching and swelling of the million mosquito bites I've managed to get, and I needed this little green tin Tommy had shown me because it's supposedly what the locals use to stop the itch. I've never seen a local scratching their skin off like I do, so I figured it was worth a shot. Oddly, the Benadryl was the easy part. She gave me some pills called Tofexo which I of course checked out on line before taking, and yup, same thing. But trying to describe the little green tin, that was a challenge. She kept giving me creams which I already have and hate, until finally I spotted a similar container and she then put it together and found me the right stuff. Pharmacy...check.<br />
Now for the bus station. I find an ATM on the way. Nothing too difficult there, you press a button and it switches to English. If only the people all had a button like that, I'd be set. ATM...check. I had to ask a couple times for directions, but since people just kind of wave you in the right direction, it's hard to tell if that's the way they want you to go or if they just want you to go away. I finally find a giant building with a flashy picture of a bus, a bunch of Thai symbols, and the website phuketbus.com. This has to be it, i'm pretty sure that was the website i saw the schedule on. I walk inside, but instead of a bus terminal, I'm in a tiny office with 4 computers and two women. "Um, is this the bus station?" I ask, confused and sweating profusely from the 91 degree walk. "Where you want to go?" I tell her Bangkok, Saturday night. First class VIP, please." "You go tonight?" "No, I go saturday." You feel like if you cut out a few words maybe she'll understand you better. But she doesn't, "You show me," she says as her silent partner whips a calendar out of thin air. I point to Saturday. She tells me the bus leaves at 7, be there by 6:30. I repeat the details a few more times: VIP first class, because I read that the middle option has no toilets...er, bathrooms...everyone from every country but America just refers to the bathroom as a toilet (I still feel a little gross every time I say it). 6:30 at night right? Because you have to take the night train so you end up in the safeness of morning when you get to Bangkok. How much? And this is where it occurs to me I'm at a tourist agent, not the bus station because she asked for 75 baht more than the website had said. So yeah, it should have occurred to me when I walked in, but like I said, I was slightly delirious from the 91 degree heat and God knows what percentage the crazy ass humidity is. And frankly, the extra $2.45 was totally worth the 10 minutes of air conditioning! So I paid for my ticket and went on to find some lunch and the market, making a mental note that i need to find the actual bus station before saturday and check with Tommy to make sure the ticket is legit. Bus ticket...check (hopefully).<br />
Tommy said if I got lost at this point, ask someone how to get to Robinson's. It's a big department store near the market, "down by KFC and McDonald's and all that." Tommy, you had me at KFC. Mmm...mashed potatoes and gravy, here I come! I ask the ladies at the "bus station" which way to go and stumble back into the heat. I meander through the market stopping to look at any dress that wasn't size tiny, and trying to keep an eye out for panties and sports bras because I totally didn't count on sweating thru two changes of clothing a day, but the sizes aren't really marked so I figure I'll have better luck at this department store that everyone loves...probably because it's the only department store. <br />
Just when I think I can't make it in this heat, I see my old friend smiling down on me like a beautiful mirage in a sweltering desert...Colonel Sanders, oh how I've missed you! Ok, so I have to point to things on a menu and I have no idea how much anything is until she rings it up, but the important thing is yes, they have mashed potatoes and gravy. The real deal. Lunch...check.<br />
Actually attached to KFC, Robinson's is more like a mall than a department store, with its food stands and an entire grocery store inside. There were at least 3 floors, but when I saw how the prices rose significantly from the first floor to the second, I didn't bother going any higher. Instead, I walked around the grocery store taking pictures of weirdness for all of you. Disposable panties, what the hell? Broccoli juice, seaweed or Peking duck flavored potato chips, and of course the obligatory assortment of dried fish snacks...blech!!! <br />
No luck with the bras and panties. The panties were all cutesy and the bras...well, I don't know what size I am, but it's NOT A-70. What the hell is 70? Probably centimeters, but I'm not about to ask the tiny flat chested salesgirl what enormous number she thinks I'd be! Shopping...maybe some other day, so for now...check.<br />
Time to find my way home, and amazingly I did. Almost entirely by accident and covered in sweat when finished, but nonetheless I made it. Honestly, the most difficult part of what I thought would be a much more challenging day, was trying to ask Nim, the girl that runs the hostel, where I could store my newly purchased wedge of watermelon til morning and then trying to understand where the hell she was telling me to put it. I swear she kept telling me outside, under something, but I think she was trying to tell me where I could eat it. Whatever, it's in the cooler now and hopefully will be in the morning. <br />
And now I'm lying in bed, finishing up this blog post and adding some pictures: the little green tin, the grocery store oddities, a couple dress shops, and some of the beautiful buildings around Phuket. Ok, so this was long and probably not that exciting, but all I promised was that it would be better than you'd think. Write this blog...check.<br />
Night all, peace and xoxo from Thailand.<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupnE6bg2TPcNlQcNn0vEQoCarL-zbCobmLEWpQLCiG0YTBXGZv79sF06SeWX-LOMbVH6H1SmFxXlzhobmvPQUzylYHfj4Aggie2dhuIBg0o9w61iAUP20wUglMr6GEol5moJhPMutqi0/s640/blogger-image-1334397770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupnE6bg2TPcNlQcNn0vEQoCarL-zbCobmLEWpQLCiG0YTBXGZv79sF06SeWX-LOMbVH6H1SmFxXlzhobmvPQUzylYHfj4Aggie2dhuIBg0o9w61iAUP20wUglMr6GEol5moJhPMutqi0/s640/blogger-image-1334397770.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsZy2mlVmFN-p4YOlqIAjxzs0cmDWILnVhrU1EZY3-HV4uE-gientU7aD2ia8puBB2KhS_AsktBmaFIscXuV1joLBbYmUzz2FvhPQ4Byy0N3nKF4XpafZ-Izmepr1gffEc2SNAXMJkM0/s640/blogger-image-2044499824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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-a tall cold Bintang (local beer) on a warm night<br />
-a chocolate banana milkshake on a hot day<br />
-finding cheddar potato chips amongst the many fish flavored ones<br />
-seeing thousands of Balinese gather together in their finest sarongs and head wraps to celebrate Kuningan Day<br />
-cuddling the little guesthouse kitty, because I miss my Disco.<br />
-holding an orangutan at the Bali animal park<br />
-multiple days, multiple beaches<br />
-getting a massage IN MY ROOM for less than $9<br />
-Facebook...enough said<br />
-an air conditioned Internet cafe<br />
-watching the sunset on the beautiful rooftops of Ubud from my balcony<br />
-swimming in a waterfall<br />
-watching the women weave tiny baskets for their daily offerings to the gods every morning, then seeing them EVERYWHERE<br />
-living within walking distance to a giant supermarket<br />
-finding Dove conditioner at said supermarket because I have no idea if "hair fall" is the same thing<br />
-being able to smoke a cig...ANYWHERE (sorry, Grandma)<br />
-riding on the back of a scooter past rice fields, palm trees, mountains, and beaches<br />
-finding the best tacos I've ever had...in Bali!<br />
-fulfilling my "new dress addiction" for $8 a dress at the outdoor market<br />
-moving into a new guesthouse and instantly making AWESOME new friends<br />
-a plate of watermelon and orange slices for breakfast, because the guesthouse owner knows they are my favorite<br />
-having my camera handy and going slow enough on the scooter to catch the family of geese casually crossing through traffic<br />
-watching the Balinese children find so much fun without any fancy American toys<br />
Happiness isn't...<br />
-riding on a scooter down a mountain for nearly 5 hours in the freezing cold rain<br />
-waking up before 7am each day, thanks to paper-thin walls and the screaming baby staying next door<br />
-nearly getting run over by a family of 5 all on one motorbike<br />
-the German boy constantly commenting on my refusal to eat the cheap Balinese food...sorry, but rice, fish, and veggies are the same to me in any country...gross<br />
-potholes! The scooter riding is killing my ass!<br />
-trying to buy plane tickets to my next stop online and having my card declined for no apparent reason<br />
-finally getting my ticket and then having the guy at the Internet cafe say "machine must be broke" when my ticket doesn't print and not being able to explain to him that maybe it just needs paper or ink<br />
-ants and tiny spiders...everywhere! I try not to think about how many I must have eaten<br />
-being embarrassed to admit I'm from the same country as the Guido from New York at the end of the bar<br />
-trying to download a movie in the dark outside my first guesthouse and getting barked at by one of the scarier Bali dogs. Stray dogs are everywhere here and I passed on the rabies shot<br />
-@#%^ roosters!<br />
-saying goodbye to new friends<br />
-the keyboard on a German laptop<br />
-running through the rain to retrieve the electric converter I left at my old guesthouse<br />
-French guys...they fulfilled every stereotype<br />
-a new mosquito bite every day<br />
-losing my breath after a few flights of stairs. Heat, altitude, and smoker's lung...not a good combination<br />
-squat toilets<br />
-leaving Bali, but...<br />
Happiness is...<br />
-moving on.<br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHG_UDzMcC1XN6ZWlDdtqWoaG2DsFTnAAUfV2r5bY5RpwxjGcbZKMalK92TzVVvhGVyO9iHzMUO-MSKyThUGtjAnlidZA0eCiYzr5Mms94gE0kadn-vwZbbqAdaNpV-IhnMVVGxlpQZZU/s640/blogger-image-448681070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHG_UDzMcC1XN6ZWlDdtqWoaG2DsFTnAAUfV2r5bY5RpwxjGcbZKMalK92TzVVvhGVyO9iHzMUO-MSKyThUGtjAnlidZA0eCiYzr5Mms94gE0kadn-vwZbbqAdaNpV-IhnMVVGxlpQZZU/s640/blogger-image-448681070.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9G9NT4Ti1O9t0xf6IK4vYWrG3uonrOaIDMmLFQz6fqJlKG6Iugt1E4DCwy4YpALCAsNwA0IsOrq9s6s70cpuhwjo2vWdALEYRptf8IGuPeKVRkBbZz_2LTi_SDgaxc7WcbS8TAU74yc/s640/blogger-image-425078091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9G9NT4Ti1O9t0xf6IK4vYWrG3uonrOaIDMmLFQz6fqJlKG6Iugt1E4DCwy4YpALCAsNwA0IsOrq9s6s70cpuhwjo2vWdALEYRptf8IGuPeKVRkBbZz_2LTi_SDgaxc7WcbS8TAU74yc/s640/blogger-image-425078091.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4p4N36Xsn-0TJxf70hQgYIG1ZZPxx1IVY5iU43el5b8hIhJyjhBzWRQK03mJjs3kVPPkrJH2IFXDYutsA91F8de7v7JEHWQlFDk-xUbd5K0C6KEJVQTWvISyD7uKB36GcTZzp00tXdfg/s640/blogger-image-1018198840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4p4N36Xsn-0TJxf70hQgYIG1ZZPxx1IVY5iU43el5b8hIhJyjhBzWRQK03mJjs3kVPPkrJH2IFXDYutsA91F8de7v7JEHWQlFDk-xUbd5K0C6KEJVQTWvISyD7uKB36GcTZzp00tXdfg/s640/blogger-image-1018198840.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-54703875920835365712012-02-08T01:51:00.001-08:002012-02-08T01:51:08.101-08:00Always Read the SignsAhh...Bali. So I've been here almost a week now, and I have loved almost every minute. I ended up only staying at the first guesthouse for two nights. It was beautiful, but had no wi-fi, and how could I leave my adoring fans in the lurch? <br />
The new guesthouse, for the same price has wi-fi AND hot water...not to mention some new friends. I've been spending most of my time with a 20 year old German guy named Flo in a pink t-shirt (had to throw that in there) and a thirty-something Englishman, Dave, plus a few other friends we've met along the way. <br />
My first day out in Ubud, I found my way to Monkey Forest. It's quite literal in its title, a forest full of monkeys. They sell bananas at the entrance which I passed on, but because of the many tourists, you really don't need a banana to get a monkey's attention because they just assume you have one. One little guy just hopped in my lap and hung out for a bit, before chewing on my yellow bag which probably appeared to be one big banana. It has always been a dream of mine to hold a baby monkey, but let me tell you, when the first one tried to scale my leg, I screeched like a little girl and practically flung it across the forest!<br />
A few days later, my new neighbors and I rented scooters and rode around the island stopping at two different beaches. I rode on the back with Pink Shirt, I mean Flo. When I told my mom of my plans, she asked why I didn't drive my own. If you saw how people drive here, you wouldn't do it either! Most roads have two lanes, but it doesn't seem to matter, and I'm not sure there are speed limits because I haven't seen a sign for one yet.<br />
Over the course of the day, we probably got lost 7 or 8 times, but the people here are so nice ( and maybe a little bit nosey), they pull up right beside you, ask you where you are going, and then point you in the right direction before you can even ask.<br />
We kept the scooters a second day, and headed in search of more beaches, with a stop at the Floating Temple. A bit disappointing, it was not actually floating, simply surrounded by a moat. The sign outside said it was strictly prohibited for menstruating women to enter, but figuring, how will they know? I entered anyway. Apparently, the gods of Bali were not amused, as karma took it's toll on the way home. What should have been a 3 hour drive down the mountain turned into 5 hours in the freezing cold rain on scooters! But the waterfalls we saw that day made it almost worth it.<br />
Though I truly love my traveling buddies, I would like to get to know more of the locals. But Ubud is definitely a tourist town (almost a Balinese San Francisco, very artsy), and it's hard to make friends with people who need your money much more than they need an American companion. Also for some reason, they speak very quietly in conversations so not only do you have to listen closely to get past their accent, you have to listen extra closely just to hear them. But like I said, they are very nice so listening closely is quite worth the effort. <br />
I have not starved yet, thankfully. Western food is abundant. Spaghetti seems to be everywhere, though always spelled differently, as well as tacos, burgers, and even French fries. I know, I know, "Try the Balinese food" the pink shirted German boy keeps saying. But I'm not a foodie, and perfectly happy sticking with what I know whenever I can find it. I want to see temples, and beaches, and monkeys, but I never said I wanted to eat fish soup or sea grass.<br />
Love to all from Bali, I promise to write more soon!<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGcdE9vSAv4UyWg1DABTr56ANMgyanHpcKtKDqnthLiVvebUv_2Qk-29luvIAQCWq-dkNjFyDsWRVi_GDYHyBykIl7JjORFWV6Ycc_YdoWQ8_Q6cpPhskP9NtWef7i1aviZQHREpX6oQ/s640/blogger-image--1671584263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGcdE9vSAv4UyWg1DABTr56ANMgyanHpcKtKDqnthLiVvebUv_2Qk-29luvIAQCWq-dkNjFyDsWRVi_GDYHyBykIl7JjORFWV6Ycc_YdoWQ8_Q6cpPhskP9NtWef7i1aviZQHREpX6oQ/s640/blogger-image--1671584263.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YfisLVfjAnc5s5GANLGjfQkAr8-8YEGK1y-NfUebvuTH5Qqgu0x8DmuCwUg57sjBhsfqCkZceg8IgUvEWDi0HPJJmYRP9jB2CPCiTSDgXrSrf28alygKum1s0rtNs1ok4Uh_5vzUpVU/s640/blogger-image--709437035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2HYMlvVGX9GWp_7UR9EigSr6v9vPURiKddM8VhW6ghBod4EAMXlzLGxN973_GFmDfks1uZblrj8Jh9G1Ej3aEXfBtE3FtaTV49Ieb7t69v3v9oiyd2jZZdO7AblaGkzeDLozW4i5r62Y/s640/blogger-image-1057056960.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-50528480647886747522012-02-02T17:45:00.001-08:002012-02-02T17:47:59.806-08:00Lizards and Frogs and Snakes, oh my!So here it is, my first post from on the road...and what an adventure it has been so far! I haven't done anything interesting so far, and yet everything I've done has been interesting. <br />
First off, the Valium that was supposed to calm me down for my 21 hours of flying left me throwing up in an airplane bathroom for nearly ten hours. The flight attendant actually announced, "Excuse me, but we have a passenger in need of immediate medical attention. If anyone is qualified, please identify yourself."I couldn't be more embarrassed but Nga, a very sweet nurse on her way to see family in Vietnam, and a young American EMT whose name I didn't catch, came up to check my vitals and calm me down. Plus I got moved to first class which I must say was pretty freaking awesome. I mean, they don't just get better food and more leg room, they get better headphones, better slippers (yes, everyone on the plane gets slippers!), and their seats lay ALL the way down...if only I wasn't too delirious to enjoy it. <br />
Since they told me I wouldn't be able to get on my second flight in my condition and used the words ambulance and hospital, Nga helped me explain that I couldn't afford all that, nor could I let my checked bag go on to Bali without me. So instead, they had three medics waiting for <br />
me, who checked my vitals, gave me a shot and some meds, and cleared me for my next flight.<br />
On the second plane, I sat next to a nice American woman who travels to Bali all the time on business. She told me Ubud (you may recognize the town from Eat, Pray, Love) would be less hot than the beach,and gave me the name of a street with lots of good, cheap places to stay. She also helped me through customs and getting my visa.<br />
I found a sweet private bungalow for about 15 dollars a night...I'll try to post the pics on here, but if it does not work, I will put them on Facebook. <br />
Oh, sidebar: anyone who is reading this, but does not actually know me, feel free to add me on Facebook as well. It's under Sandi Field, just try to include a note that you know me from my blog. <br />
Nature at the bungalow is very in your face. Besides an abundance of mosquitos, a GIANT moth (at least that is the closest species it resembled) flew around my room then landed high on my wall last night. I grabbed the board that's used to lock my door (straight Flintstones style) and tried to shoo it, but could not reach, when suddenly from the space between the bamboo woven wall and roof comes a freaking 10 inch lizard who freaking eats the giant freaking moth! So now I have Larry the lizard instead of a moth! Larry eventually went back where he came from, but let's just say, I slept with the light on after that!<br />
I also found a tiny frog sitting on the ledge of my outdoor tub, and watched a little garden snake slither on by as I drank my morning tea on the porch. Thankfully, the creatures seem to keep to themselves,though I could have done without the ant filled toilet I woke up to. <br />
Well, time to explore. Thanks for following me, I'll get back to you soon. Love from Bali.<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSnHE5Dh_Iw79ErxHxRvraIA34yuNXj3-9rwqhH8dfBsshSzMJQ05ZYOGpQrpBZ7CLzZT9oDO6btBTOsTz-b1Eg8GsFYrz4gQdgT4LYDNcvii_5fEb95nNINpODc03rUb5Jbrcuuw_6Q/s640/blogger-image--433926982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSnHE5Dh_Iw79ErxHxRvraIA34yuNXj3-9rwqhH8dfBsshSzMJQ05ZYOGpQrpBZ7CLzZT9oDO6btBTOsTz-b1Eg8GsFYrz4gQdgT4LYDNcvii_5fEb95nNINpODc03rUb5Jbrcuuw_6Q/s640/blogger-image--433926982.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1JjgnzLdsnauYHbrRZj18vZ5CYDEvMCs48i2Y-hPCxIa0VQjG9YJe1ok3TcaqeEdclweLgANUEranVCXfkMDf8NGxLlZGQw6ERa7Rxs1sXgXlFSVbJYM2-utTXHp7ufWCXR4Uc69yp0/s640/blogger-image-1671384867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1JjgnzLdsnauYHbrRZj18vZ5CYDEvMCs48i2Y-hPCxIa0VQjG9YJe1ok3TcaqeEdclweLgANUEranVCXfkMDf8NGxLlZGQw6ERa7Rxs1sXgXlFSVbJYM2-utTXHp7ufWCXR4Uc69yp0/s640/blogger-image-1671384867.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5r3Peuo5C8pz2DHLmWf_U-gJCanVZRWpn8Q5TAikZ3yz66J4WMl1gy98MqwqNd3aURJdnY0hzfsdtyUq-DRVSsuym_kt3QRsGM3nbfdt-vm3yKQ6BhuIq0sXFQxZlB8wHQzypF98uEbs/s640/blogger-image--202343036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5r3Peuo5C8pz2DHLmWf_U-gJCanVZRWpn8Q5TAikZ3yz66J4WMl1gy98MqwqNd3aURJdnY0hzfsdtyUq-DRVSsuym_kt3QRsGM3nbfdt-vm3yKQ6BhuIq0sXFQxZlB8wHQzypF98uEbs/s640/blogger-image--202343036.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinTGUd0lHzBmsMr5V3dQAncvfpclVkgYmhq6-a-MN1MujZ1ZbOSwbvBBIU6Ji-Wnm-rhRYr8ZR8LV03N2VrHVfsznu7-1pgQV8NKQpwUFcNtyOcrzggZGfkG0xTihqXouYT7AJ4M7TlEc/s640/blogger-image-1306448449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinTGUd0lHzBmsMr5V3dQAncvfpclVkgYmhq6-a-MN1MujZ1ZbOSwbvBBIU6Ji-Wnm-rhRYr8ZR8LV03N2VrHVfsznu7-1pgQV8NKQpwUFcNtyOcrzggZGfkG0xTihqXouYT7AJ4M7TlEc/s640/blogger-image-1306448449.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7rBg7Jc275HSbqKdeV1iPTrFqMqnwP4ywuEIa_bvv5EIOgyFM8E_GtPi6xL7Mhnwip4No04eRj-7skC8vItT9rIkR1RXWsGz33TLo6aygXIoGof40EMYC5wcYoGP3PJXnqlOKV2fNPE/s640/blogger-image-851984590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7rBg7Jc275HSbqKdeV1iPTrFqMqnwP4ywuEIa_bvv5EIOgyFM8E_GtPi6xL7Mhnwip4No04eRj-7skC8vItT9rIkR1RXWsGz33TLo6aygXIoGof40EMYC5wcYoGP3PJXnqlOKV2fNPE/s640/blogger-image-851984590.jpg" /></a></div>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-41280003766563194342012-01-20T03:40:00.000-08:002012-01-20T03:40:40.333-08:00Pants on Fire Ok, so I lied. There will be no pictures just yet. I'm lazy...er...I mean, busy...and I haven't gotten around to it. But I am here, as promised, blogging to my now 19 dedicated fans.<br />
It's hard for me to slow my thinking long enough to focus on what to say. I mean, I am TOTALLY freaking out right now. I'm done with work tomorrow, and I leave in 11 freaking days. Just staring at that sentence makes my heart pound and my breath hard to come by. E...LEV...EN... FREAK...ING... DAYS! And something like 21 hours in the air, of course. Oh my god, there goes my breath again. I try so hard not to think about the flight, but I get a mild panic attack just thinking about getting on a plane to say, Wisconsin or Florida...or Vegas even, which is why I rarely if ever fly. And now I'm gonna be stuck in a plane flying over the freaking ocean with flight attendants who according to the reviews online may not even speak English, for almost an entire 2 days (when you add in the layovers)!!! TWO FREAKING DAYS...ON OR NEAR A PLANE. Thank God for Vallium.<br />
The goodbye thing is kind of wierding me out, too. I didn't think it would be hard to leave work, that's for sure. I have friends there, of course, but I'm not really super close with anyone <em>anywhere </em>(other than my grandma) so I didn't think it would be hard to say goodbye, especially for just six months. But people seemed to think I'd be coming back, and now that they are asking, they seem to be shocked that my answer is no. For anyone reading this who is unaware, I have been working at a strip club as the doorgirl (hostess, not bouncer) for the past seven years. And I've pretty much hated it for the past three. It's just really hard to deal with drunk people five days a week for eight hours a night for seven years. Regardless, the club has been my family out here for a long time. We've had our ups and downs, but like any good dysfunctional family, you fight, you cry, you drink, you love. And though I'll be back in 6 months, I don't plan to stay in California long and I definitely don't plan to take my job back, so yeah...this is kinda goodbye and that is kinda sad.<br />
And then there's Norm. He told me the other day he hadn't read my blog yet, and that, "I'll read it when I'm ready." It sounded so sad when he said it, it really stuck with me. I've loved him for a really long time, and I've never doubted that he loves me. I feel really grateful that he chooses to spend the last of my time here together, even if he is a cranky butthead about it. I don't blame him, I'm just grateful. Much like leaving the club, Norm knows now that when I do come home, I probably won't be in California long, and that this is kinda our goodbye, too. I try to keep an open mind. Maybe when I find myself, I'll find that he really is my forever. But Norm is afraid I will find my forever out there in the world, and even as much as he loves me and as much as I love him, I am really hoping that <em>the world</em> will be my forever.<br />
But don't fret, my dear followers! Even all the sappy goodbyes and paralyzing panic attacks can't keep me down! I am on my way to adventures unknown, and I intend to drag you all along every step of the way! Woohooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Only eleven freaking days!<br />
hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-13808496266684966922011-12-02T15:41:00.000-08:002011-12-29T14:56:13.428-08:00A letter to my doubters... It's no surprise to me that a lot of people didn't believe I was actually going to take this trip. Hell, I was one of them. What surprised me were the supporters who seemed to think it was a great idea. What surprised me even more was that most of those "supporters" were full of Oscar Mayer B-O-L-O-G-N-A! As soon as I bought the backpack, everything became real, because as one of the bouncers at work said, "Sandi may not always do what she says she's going to do or finish what she's started, but if there's one thing Sandi doesn't do, it's waste money." The trip is on, and now that everyone else is realizing it, their fears are starting to surface. Great timing, folks.<br />
Look, I love everyone who loves me enough to be concerned, but it's too late to be concerned now. The best thing for you all to do is think of it like I do--pretend you're a crazy hippie if only for this next thought: <br />
<em>Everything in my life is pointing me in this direction. I have NEVER felt so sure that I was doing the right thing at the right time as I do at this very moment. So if this is the case, then whatever happens bad or good is what was meant to happen. </em><br />
<em> </em>It's this thought that gets me through my terrible fear of flying, and I am hoping it will give you all a little bit of comfort as well. If you need some reassurance that's a little less...well...hokey, than here's all that I have:<br />
1.People have been doing this for years. Women have been doing this for years. In fact, most of where I am going is along what is known as the "hippie trail." It's been called this since the actual hippies of the 60's began traveling these routes, these SAME routes, that people, women, hippies have been traveling for years...Did I mention I'm not the first one to do this?<br />
2.I am not an idiot. Yes, I have my stoner moments, occasionally misplacing things or losing track of time, but I have been living alone for years now in less than the best neighborhoods, and I'm still standing. Common sense goes a long way and I was raised with plenty of it. I promise to not go walking down dark alleys, not go out late at night alone, not get too drunk to know what I'm doing when there's no one looking out for me...In other words, I promise to continue to use the exact same common sense thinking that's kept me safe from harm all these years in America.<br />
3.I will be reachable, and so will you. Gone are the days when you would have had to spend your time waiting on a month old postcard to see that I am safe. Internet cafes are EVERYWHERE. I have this blog, my email, and facebook. I also have an ipod touch, and oddly, wifi is apparently much more available in 3rd world countries than first world. I can video chat, and also I will have a phone number on it to send and receive text messages. A lot of travelers stay too connected to technology and never really get to experience the now unless they are reporting on it so with the exception of this blog, I am hoping not to spend too much time contacting you all, no offense, but at least we all know that the option is there.<br />
I hope, I have put a few worries to rest. There are plenty more arguements I could go into--the abundance of crime and danger in America, the welcoming people of Thailand, even my hair-brained arguement that everyone you hear of that gets kidnapped was traveling with a group so see, I am actually safer traveling alone--but like I said, it all boils down to common sense. I am a smart girl, I'll be fine.hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-32373897542088619122011-11-11T15:36:00.001-08:002011-12-05T13:55:39.318-08:00An interview with myself So obviously, until I actually go on the trip, there's not a whole lot to say. I mean, I have never been at a loss for words so I'm sure there's plenty I <strong><em>could</em></strong> say, but this blog is for my trip so for once, I'll try to stay focused.<br />
I thought I might take a few minutes just to quickly answer the random questions that anyone who doesn't stalk my facebook wall might ask. So here goes...<br />
<br />
Q. Where do you plan to go?<br />
<br />
A. Originally I planned to start in Bali and work my way up. Now that I'm leaning more towards starting in Thailand, Bali (being very far to the south) is still up in the air. But besides Thailand, I plan to go to Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia. If I make it to Bali (Indonesia) than I will most likely also go to Malaysia. At some point, I will go by plane to India, but I haven't yet routed my itinerary for there yet. I am trying to be as flexible with dates and destinations as possible. I am planning on at least 6 months so I will totally be free to go at whatever pace I want.<br />
<br />
Q. Where will you stay?<br />
<br />
A. From what I have been reading, hostels are mostly in Europe, guesthouses are more common in South East Asia. Pretty much the same thing-- very cheap living and you get what you pay for (less than desirable shared bathrooms, bedbug possibilitie, etc.) but I think the rooms are a little more private than the dorm style hostels. And whenever I'm near a beach there are little bungalows you can rent for like $4 a night. I'd like the chance to stay with a family and really experience the culture, but I worry about the food thing. It's considered very rude to waste food, especially rice, and I am a very picky eater and not a big fan of rice. If my friend goes with me for the first few weeks, she has an American friend who lives in Thailand, and we should be able to stay with him for at least a few days.<br />
<br />
Q. How much money will this cost?<br />
<br />
A. Gosh, you're nosey. Seriously though, it's sooo cheap. Staying in guesthouses for under $10 a day, finding meals for under $4, there are some places in India where you can get by on $12 a day. I am budgeting for roughly $1000 a month, and it should cost much, much less. Airfare from here and back should put me back about $1500 and I am not sure yet about the price of the flight to India, because I think it will be cheaper to buy over there. <br />
<br />
Q. What kinds of things do you want to do?<br />
<br />
A. Like I said, I want to be flexible. I know once I get on the road, the possibilities will be endless and I'm sure to find things to do that I had never dreamed of. But there are a few things on my list of very-much-hope-to-do's...<br />
*<strong>Thai Elephant Home</strong>- while many places in Thailand are known to exploit their elephants, beating them into learning how do play soccer and do other lame tricks, the Thai Elephant Home is known for it's "happy elephants." Each elephant has it's own mahout, a keeper who cares for him, cleans him, feeds him, trains him, loves him, even sleeps beside him! These men truly love their animals and the love is returned. And for your stay there, which can be as little as a few hours to as long as a month, everyone gets their very own elephant that you learn to train, and bathe, and feed! It is definitely on my list.<br />
*<strong>Suan Mokkh 10day Silent Meditation Retreat in Thailand</strong>- a program designed to educate beginners, they guide you (in English) through ten days of silence and meditation. You sleep on concrete beds with mats, though I suppose you could use your own wadded clothes as a padding; you get only two very scarce vegetarian meals a day (no sneaking food in); no phones, laptops, etc...Just complete concentration on yourself, your peaceful surroundings, and whatever it is you are trying to find. I love that you can't even make reservations by phone or email. The retreat starts on the first of every month, and you have to just show up in person on that day so they can see with their own eyes that you're not some crazy crackhead looking for cheap rehab...because to me, the craziest part of it all is that the whole ten days costs a total of only $67.<br />
*<strong>Vang Vieng, Laos-</strong> apparently you can rent innertubes and float down the river, stopping along the way at makeshift bars that specialize in what is known as a "Happy Shake." Exactly what it sounds like, a milk shake with marijuana and/or mushrooms, and sorry Grandma, but I just might have to try one out. They also have a very high zip line course I am considering. I would never bunjee jump, but I've always thought zip line could be cool. Don't worry, I won't try the zip line on the same day I try the Happy Shake.<br />
Of course, there are lots of other ideas, but I don't want to spoil too many surprises.<br />
<br />
Ok, I suppose that's enough for today, now I'm off to work to make some more money for those Happy Shakes.<br />
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<strong>Thai Elephant home </strong><a href="http://www.thaielephanthome.com/index.php">http://www.thaielephanthome.com/index.php</a><br />
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<strong>Suan Mokkh 10day Silent Meditation Retreat in Thailand</strong> <a href="http://www.suanmokkh-idh.org/">http://www.suanmokkh-idh.org/</a><br />
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<strong>Vang Vieng, Laos</strong> <a href="http://wikitravel.org/en/Vang_Vieng">http://wikitravel.org/en/Vang_Vieng</a>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-79467795714524504082011-11-04T04:28:00.000-07:002011-12-03T15:55:31.529-08:00Crunch TimeToday, I took my friend Angel aside and said in a very serious tone, "I need your help." <br />
"Okay..."she answered in a slow concerned tone.<br />
"I need you to help me cut the cord...I need you to help me get rid of...my cable."<br />
<br />
Yes, it's official--due to the sale of my building and thanks to Obama for signing a bill in 2009 that gives me the legal right to 90 days in my apartment (take that, smarty pants realator jerk), I am now planning to begin my journey around the end of january/beginning of february. And holy shit, that scares the bejesus out of me.<br />
There is so much to do. I still have to find a temporary home for my cat Disco, sell all my stuff including my car, organize the party/sale to do it, buy my plane tickets, buy travel insurance, make some extra copies of my passport pictures, buy a backpack and all the random stuff that will fill it--ooh, I need one of those compass keychain thingies, and ooh, I need to learn how to use a compass, and oh my god, am I even spelling compass right?<br />
So I try to calm myself by thinking of all the things I've already accomplished. I got my passport, got my shots, researched the hell out of this trip, ordered my ipod touch (I can video phone home wherever there's wifi!), started this blog, bought a pair of those cargo pants that zip into shorts...yeah, I'm totally ready.<br />
And then, there's the cable. Yup, it's gotta go. Anyone who knows me knows how truly hard this is for me. Much harder than getting rid of a boyfriend, cable has been with me my whole life! I was the first kid I knew to have HBO and the first kid to get the Disney Channel (you used to have to pay for it). In the days before DVR, I used to record one thing on my VCR at my apartment, and have my grandma using both her VCR's to tape two other shows. I have issues, I know. I've always said if there was a support program for people like me...well, I'd probably watch it on tv. <br />
But that's it. It's gotta go. To save money, it should have gone along time ago. I mean, most of my shows are accessible on the internet, but my problem is that I like to multi-task. I like to be on my laptop doing things like this blog while I half-ass watch whatever I saved on my DVR. I realized last night, however, as I looked around the room at the overwhelming amount of stuff I own that must be organized into a sale, that there are no magic fairies to swoop down and do it for me. I need to be half-ass watching my tv shows on my laptop while I keep myself busy, sorting through the multitude of accumulated crap...I mean the multitude of really awesome stuff that all of you, my wonderful friends, plan to buy from me so that I may see the world.<br />
So Angel is coming over on Monday to rip the remote from my trembling fingers and drive me to the cable store to return the best lover I ever had--my cable box, while I cope by testing out one of the valiums my travel doc gave me for the flight.hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-50413107063440729962011-10-24T19:23:00.000-07:002011-10-24T19:28:23.356-07:00Just me and my swagger... The other question I get asked constantly is usually phrased as, "You're not going alone, <em><strong>are you</strong></em>?" Somehow, me being with someone else as clueless as I am about how to do this is much more comforting to people than me going it alone. I do have a friend who is interested in coming for the first few months if I leave in April, but it is looking like outside factors might be bumping up my departure date quite a bit. And that's okay. I've always wanted to do this alone.<br />
Part of it is because I went to San Francisco twice with my best friend Reggie, and he will be the first to tell you, I relied on him too much. I don't learn things unless I do them myself, and with Reggie and his handy-dandy iphone, I was pretty much free to research where we should go and let him handle it from there. So when he left early on the second trip, and I had some time to myself, it was raining and I was bored out of my mind, no Reggie and no iphone. I hadn't found my own travel swagger, I had always had Reggie's. I want my own swagger.<br />
Mostly though, my reason is in this conversation I had with my grandma (shout out! I love you Grandma):<br />
<strong>Me:</strong> "So do you think what I'm doing is weird? I don't mean do you think <em><strong>people</strong></em> will think this is weird, I mean do <strong><em>you</em></strong> think this is weird?"<br />
<strong>Grandma:</strong> "Sandi, I don't think anything any of my children do is <em><strong>weird</strong></em>, I just think it's different than what I would want to do."<br />
<strong>Me (So happy that my grandma is so awesome and that she referred to me as one of her children):</strong> "But do you get why I want to do this?...why I feel like I need to do this? It's just that, let's face it, I didn't do my job as a mom, I didn't finish college, I didn't find a career--I don't even know one I'd want, I don't have a husband or a family or a house. I'm 35 and I haven't accomplished <em><strong>anything</strong></em>. I just feel like doing this would be such an accomplishment...something I could say I did...something I could say I finished...all by myself."<br />
And my grandma? Yeah, she gets it.hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-84484391737905319002011-10-22T16:47:00.000-07:002011-10-22T16:47:04.980-07:00But why Asia and India? This is one of the questions I get asked most often. I love to watch people crinkle up their nose and say, "Oh I'd love to travel, but I wouldn't go <strong><em>there</em></strong>." Oddly enough, two or three years ago, I would have probably said the same thing. I mean, let's be honest--Those of you who know me can agree, I've always been the pickiest of picky eaters, afraid of bugs, and yes, I'll admit it, a bit of a drama queen. So originally, I had decided to backpack around Europe. Like most of the nose crinklers, I liked the idea of eating my way through Italy, smoking my way through Amsterdam, brushing up on my french in Paris, and visiting our old exchange student in Germany. Then last year, I started helping friends edit their term papers, and I decided to take an English class at the university to brush up on my skills so I could charge for professional tutoring. When I couldn't get the class I intended on, I decided just to take something that interested me enough that I wouldn't lose the desire to be back in school. I ended up with World Religion, and I loved it. Learning about the Eastern Religions like Buddhism and Hinduism in class and reading Eat Pray Love at home...the seed was beginning to grow. When my professor decided to take a day off from teaching and show us slides of his own backpacking days, I was hooked. I adjusted my trip plans to include six months in Europe and six months in Asia, then changed it to about four months of Europe and eight months of Asia and India. Eventually, I realized that financially one month in Italy could buy me three in South East Asia, so I finally settled on six to nine months seeing South East Asia and India...and no Europe at all. I want to see the temples of Thailand more than I want to see the churches of England. I want to see monkeys more than I want to see museums. I saw a video clip of a man in Vietnam peddling a bicycle that towed a cart stacked at least twelve feet high with packages, weaving it's way through the traffic like it was no big deal. Such a simple, silly image, but all I could think was, "That's what I want to see. I would NEVER see that here." I want to see things I would never see in America, and Europe was beginning to look more and more like just a fancier version of home. I want an experience, not just a vacation. I want to be challenged. I want to prove to everybody, especially myself, that I can do this and frankly, Europe just sounds too easy.hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-80412310655555616612011-10-21T05:15:00.000-07:002011-10-23T15:17:28.325-07:00A Series of Fortunate Events My decision to go backpacking was really the result of a series of events. Like I told my grandma, if I believe in signs or omens or whatever you want to call them, then there have been many and they are all screaming at me, "This is your destiny."<br />
Here are my many influences. I can't remember if this is the exact order they occurred in, and there is no order of importance, they all made an impact. Hang in there, this entry gets long...<br />
<br />
1. I saw (and eventually read) <em>Eat Pray Love</em>. Yes, I know how cliche that is, but I spent weeks after watching it unable to fall asleep at night, because I couldn't stop thinking about the way my life is going vs. the way it could go. Elizabeth Gilbert's breakup with her husband and her relationship with the boyfriend she left behind were so similar to my own relationship issues. A lot of people criticize the author as someone who screwed over the men in her life to childishly escape the "real world." It's hard for people who haven't experienced it, but sometimes you just realize that the life you are leading isn't the right one and you have to fix that. And most of the time, changing the rest of your life means leaving some of the old one behind.<br />
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2. Just as I started being able to sleep again, my amazing friend Krista and her amazing husband Stephen followed the call from an amazing God, and moved her three amazing kiddies to Africa to help the children of Swaziland. For weeks upon hearing this, I again couldn't sleep. Knowing that someone I knew could do something so brave and so unconventional made it really hard to deny that I had that same capability to do something AMAZING.<br />
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...Let me pause this list to make something clear. When I say these events kept me from sleeping, I am in no way exaggerating. As a child, we've all spent Christmas Eve or the night before our birthday, unable to keep our mind from spinning with anticipation to the point where it was a struggle to fall asleep. And as adults, we've all had times full of so much stress and worry, that we've lost sleep while endlessly going over to-do lists and worst case scenarios in our heads. Well, what I was going through was a combination of excitement, joy, and grand possibilities all rolled up into a ball with fear, stress, and horrible outcomes. Now with the trip actually being planned, trust me, that giant ball of crazy still keeps me up at night. Hence, the late night blog entries. Now, back to the list...<br />
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3. My apartment building went into foreclosure. Our landlord went AWOL, so we all (me and the three other tenants) stopped paying rent. If it hadn't been for this lucky streak of awesomeness, I would still be behind on all my bills, struggling to buy ramen and cheap wine with no possible way to save a dime. I've lived paycheck to paycheck since I started getting paychecks, especially since I moved to California. I only wish I'd realized my destiny early on, as I did not really start saving for my trip until many months into the foreclosure, but it was nice to spoil my family at Christmas time. The building finally sold yesterday.<br />
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4. After hearing about Krista's journey, I ordered four books from Amazon. Three of them were about volunteering abroad; the fourth was a book called <em>Vagabonding</em>, by Rolf Potts. I thought it would just be a book full of some semi-useful tips about traveling overseas--buying plane tickets, what to pack, you know, that kind of thing. I severely underestimated it, and now I like to call it "the book that changed my life." <em>Vagabonding</em> is like an infomercial selling the idea of long term travel. All of the books on volunteering said you really had to commit to six months to a year in order to get the full experience. Reading <em>Vagabonding</em> made me realize that if I was going to commit to six months to a year of anything, I wanted the freedom to come and go as I please and I wanted to see as much as I possibly could. It also convinced me, and I believe it could convince anybody, that long term travel is completely and utterly possible for EVERYONE. It's not just a book of travel tips, it's a guide to a new lifestyle. I recommend this book constantly, and I've loaned my copy out twice already. In fact, if you are reading this blog, go buy the book. You are obviously thinking, "Wow, look what Sandi is doing. That is so cool. I wish I could do that." Whether you are locked into a job, have children, or don't think you can afford it, <em>Vagabonding</em> will convince you that you can.<br />
<u>Happy Little Disclaimer</u>: I am in no way trying to talk anyone out of committing their summer, their year, or their life to overseas or at home volunteer work. There are many great organizations and people like Krista out there who need help. But as I have learned, tourism IS a way to help. Many of the countries I am planning to see have a struggling economy that relies solely on tourism, and every single dollar I spend is helping their country to survive.<br />
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5. I missed a period. This one was a doozy. My boyfriend and I had been together for a year, but it was our second time around--we'd dated for two years, four years ago. We had a goal of marriage and a baby, and we were calmly moving toward it. I had made it clear the first time we dated that if we stayed together, I would eventually want a baby, and he wasn't a fan of the idea. But the second time around, he was completely on board--we'd even argued over baby names. Then I missed a period, and everything changed for me. "Oh my gosh, I don't want to have a baby." This was a huge revelation for me because not only did I not want one right now, but I wan't sure I even wanted one in the future. "Oh my gosh, I do not want to marry my boyfriend." This was also big, because even as I am typing this right now, I love him truly and deeply. But we are <strong>so</strong> different. And the differences that we have are fine for just the two of us, but they would affect so much of how we would raise a child that we would be sure to f*** a good kid up. There was also the possibility that I wasn't pregnant, but maybe the missed period meant there was something wrong with me and I couldn't have anymore children. "Oh my gosh, I don't know if I could stay with him without the promise of a baby." How odd that I wasn't sure if I ever wanted a baby, but I wasn't sure if I could stay with him without one. Yeah, I can't explain that one either, but there's one thing I knew...trip or no trip, baby or no baby, we had to break up. By the way, there was no baby. My period came the following month, and Planned Parenthood assured me my pipes are all still in working order.<br />
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So that's pretty much what got me here. I may have missed a couple of signs...doesn't everybody? but I still figured it out. This is my destiny.<br />
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Where to read Krista's blog <a href="http://prince-fam.blogspot.com/">http://prince-fam.blogspot.com/</a><br />
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Where to buy <em>Vagabonding </em><a href="http://amzn.com/0812992180">http://amzn.com/0812992180</a><br />
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Where to buy <em>Eat Pray Love </em><a href="http://amzn.com/B0042816YK">http://amzn.com/B0042816YK</a><br />
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Where to get a pregnancy test <a href="http://www.plannedparenthood.org/">http://www.plannedparenthood.org/</a>hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7995792132451876837.post-9787309551494388462011-10-11T04:44:00.000-07:002011-10-11T04:44:07.768-07:00A little intro... "The world begins at the end of your comfort zone." I heard this quote and I can not get it out of my head. I am currently gearing up to jump far beyond my comfort zone, all the way to South East Asia and India. Everyone keeps asking me how they can keep in touch while I'm away so I figure I'd better step out of my comfort zone a little early, and get the hang of this blogging business. Besides, you're probably wondering why I, Sandi Field, the girl who doesn't like rice, bugs, or, airplanes decided to sell everything I own, strap on a backpack, and fly to the other side of the world. So here goes...hazypinkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10237393724271872370noreply@blogger.com0