Chiang Kong to Luang Namtha to Nong Khiaw to Luang Prabang

I left Chiang Mai Thailand midday Friday the 16th, i was sad to see it go, it's a really wonderful city. I took a six hour bus ride to Chiang Kong Thailand, and i met a guy from the Netherlands on the bus , sharing our likes and dislikes about John Grisham (he was reading) and Tom Clancy (which i was reading). Villim and I checked into a hostel when we got there, Great place overlooking the Mekong river and Laos. i sat and wondered what the Communists would be like, how scary they would be in the garb and utter distaste for western culture. It was in this hostel i met the only deadhead i have met yet. Richard from California had seen over 300 shows, since 72'. Jealous was i of course. We also met another guy from Holland and a guy from Greece and after two days in Chiang Kong, we had played it out, features included, giant catfish, 4 feet plus long, a Thai Elvis and Micheal Jackson impersonator/ performer/ air guitarist, and the second most spicy meal i have ever had, green curry fried rice. I was forced to sweat through that whole meal. The four of us decided to team up for the next few days and took a pickup ride to the Thai boarder crossing with (in total) 2 Dutch, 1 Spaniard, 1 Lithuanian, 2 South Africans, 1 Greek and 2  from the Czech Republic, with a Thai driver and 1 American keeping track of it all, amazing to meet so many people from so many places in one place. Crossed the boarder and luckily, because everyone needed US currency, i went right to the front of the line, then straight to the back because i forgot to fill out my exit card, damn! had to pay for my visa in Laos, with US dollars, thought that interesting and odd. "Can i pay for this in Kip", Laotian currency, fingers pointing to the sign and a disgruntled look, "30 US dollars",  he had been through it for the last 10 years ever since Laos opened its boarders. Here is where he had been sent to work, taking that finger out and pointing at the US Dollar sign to every confused foreigner, day in and day out. He looked beyond board and frustrated, and i don't blame him, they taught him to point but not how to say "US dollars only". Boarders aside, which are never fun, no matter where you go, so far Laos has been a trip, starting the first morning when Georgio the Greek went on and on about his fish breakfast that no one else had eaten, convincing me even that i would have loved fish for breakfast. His joy didn't last too long as he lost his breakfast in the mini van on the way to Laung Namtha, four times. Quite curvy as it turns out, the Lao mountains are. A new Spaniard, David, joined us for the ride and we have spent, the five of us, three days together. Hitting the streets of Luang Namtha the first day, exploring Laos by mountain bike the second day and by motor bike the third. We mountain biked for 4 hours, we had a late start as someone hopped on one of our bikes and took off for an hour, still am not sure why or who did it but the bike owner came riding back to us with it. No one speaks much English here and getting  a round is certainly more difficult yet more interesting too. The scenery was beautiful, hills, huts, pigs, cows, temples, rice paddies and jungle lined dirt roads. We stopped to take a picture and noticed a homemade rice whiskey still, nothing like a fresh from the tap shot of hot rice whiskey to start the day and then again on the way back to end it. The next day I got a 125cc Susuki moped, Villim the Dutch was apprehensive and rightfully so, he dumped his bike over .4  seconds after getting on it. He was fine after some minor first aid. After a trip to the repair shop we got the bill for the damage, 120,000... Kip about 30 usd, I am currently a kip millionaire, no big deal. we headed to an Aka village, the long way. The day before we had tried to mountain bike it there, then trying to walk it, then finally quitting it, darkness started to fall as rapidly as the temp which reached to a low of 34 degrees. So the next day we were determined to reach the village, this time we brought some fire power, we road the long road through the mountains to the distant Aka black Thai village. I had such an amazing experience in this small hill top village. We were like five aliens landing on a foreign planet, the children came running out to great us, women and men stood with big smiles. I, in front of about 30 villagers, preformed my only magic trick an got a lot of ohhs and ahhs and was subsequently asked to do it again 10 more times. We all drove home that night, five metal steads charging into the sunset with wide grins. The next day, Villium and Arian and I decided to head to Nong Khiaw Laos, An amazing little town nestled in a valley connected by a long bridge, I had a bungalow with a porch and hammock over looking the Nam uh River, It was a fantastic spot. i spent three days there, hiking to caves used by the pathet Lao government during the Indochina wars , i hiked my way to waterfalls and two villages where i was greeted with smiles and a sat in a hut and shared fresh oranges with some of the locals, none of who could speak more than one word of English. The communist flag hangs high in this town but you would never know it. Life with or without the flag changes nothing for these people. i was in awe of the beauty and simplicity of it all as i sat by the river over looking fisherman and children splashing around in the water in there respective ways. I grabbed a boat back to town and was able to see the mountains from a whole new angle. The limestone Karats were formed 250 million years ago when tectonic plates smashed into one another, pushed these mountains from the earth. Over the years slowly they have been eaten away by monsoons and have formed the most beautiful shapes, they look like a rock climbers paradise. In contrast to how old they are, the Himalayas are only 50 million years old, crazy right? Villium and i decided to head to Luang Prabang yesterday, leaving Arian. We were once 5, now only two but as we checked into a guest house, looking at the client list, we had found Georgio, who we had left 5 days before in Luang Namtha. Just dumb luck, so last night we drank some BeerLao, sat and took in all the excitement that was Christmas eve here, not so much for the locals but the foreign contingent is the highest here than anywhere since Chaing Mia Thailand so it was a blast. Woke this am, looking at our xmas tree ( i found a 14 foot bamboo pole in the jungle and have carried it for 4 days so we can decorate it for xmas) so by tonight, a few BeerLao cans and some other junk will be hanging off it, which with be hanging off our balcony overlooking the main street. I am pumped. I had to bribe the slow boat driver who took us down the Mekong yesterday to take it with us but it was worth it. Everyone seems pretty jealous of our tree, because they stared at me carrying it for the last 4 days, i know those looks, Villim swears they were looks of bewilderment but i know better. Soon every house in Laos with have one for the 25th. Well, that's the news that's fit to print. I miss you all on this day, as everyday, but i hope you have a wonderful Christmas and you stay safe and happy. Much love, Jah bless and a Merry Christmas. 

the 4 horsemen 

Villagers amazed at Davids hair, they all wanted to touch it. too great

the face of the communist threat in Laos, keep your guard up

a life unchanged

the bside of the bridge, we would make our way in a small wooden boat for 6 hours don this river to the Mekong

Sunset from the best side of the bridge in Laos. Villim and i sat here three nights in a row and marveled till the sun went down. we watched as couples held hands, so we held beers and our bamboo pole, we were just as happy. we are not gay, not that there is anything wrong with it

Photo catch up 2, Thailand

My first of many, many, many temples. They brought this HUGE Buddha down from Northern Thailand a few hundred years ago. Bangkok Thailand

Ringing bells, Golden Mount, after my trip to the tailors, Bankok Thailand

The Enlighened one, Golden Mount, at the top, two Jade Buddhas in the back

Two HUGE guards, doing what they doing what they do best, Temple Arun, "Temple of Dawn" Bangkok Thailand

Part of the Temple of Dawn, made from pieces of pottery left by the Chinese Junks which needed to dump weight, Amazing temple but not my fav

Stuppas, you can see the staircase to the top right about ^ there to give it some scale, massive

 free meal courtesy of the King on his birthday, cubed blood and various organs

The great "Reclining Buddha" of Wat Pho, each Buddha Image, one of eight i think, shows a different part of his life. This is where he reaches Nirvana. its at least six stories long, mother of pearl inlay on his feet. My favorite Buddha, Bangkok

Adding gold leaf to a Buddha shine

The small and gentle giant Goen, taking pics for his mom of the flowers Chiang Mia, Northern Thailand, my home for the last week

Muti headed Naga, or "mythical serpent", 14th century abouts, Wat Chedi Luange, Chiang Mia

Enjoying a cappuccino today, just under a buck

Hippo at Chiang Mia Zoo where i spent all day today

Yep, he got this close, i mentioned he needed a tooth cleaning but all i got back was puzzled looks

Feeding the Elephants, i gave him bananas and he gave me snout snot, the price you pay, i took it as an even trade this guy is only 27 years old. Well that's it for now, i have a ton more photos of course, more later, got packing to do, hope to be Laos tomorrow or the next day or the next. Jah bless

Photo catch up 1, Hong Kong through the Philippines

The first of many firsts, showering while standing on the toilet, first hostel, Kowloon Hong Kong

I want YOU on this trip. self portrait uno Hong Kong

Dinner with the interior decorator, pigs blood time, Hong Kong

Anyone want any chicken ass or intestine on a stick? me either, Makati Philippines

Pacquiao fight with the Rojas Fam, Makati Philippines

ENCA farm, WWOOFing it in Acop Philippines

First day of work, Mr. Machete time. Glad i brought some Carhartt gloves, slice of home

This is where i took my first shower after 4 days of sweating it out in the Jungle

This is how good it felt.

Sunset on the farm

The Swiss couple, Maude and Vincent, miss these guys, oh and Ollie the cat, miss him too, not his fleas

My favorite tricycle, of course, Bontoc Philippines

hangin with the locals, Banaue Philippines

The beach kids, Raneer in the front, Mika on the right and Janiepoe out back, Pundakit Beach Philippines

They had to take a pic of the white face, under my bamboo hut

Sunset on the beach, i have a million of these, i will spare you the rest

Island hopping in a banka

One of the three featured in the sunset... second to last day in the Philippines

Chiang Mai

Three nights ago as i sat with Goen, Toben, a youngish German, who was eager to drink that night and seemed like he was not going to take no for an answer and Anthony the oldest and i would use wisest, but that't not really the right word for it, most traveled? he had a walk, a steady calm, a confidence of sorts, an Australian, with dreads. And me, seeing his long dreads made me a bit jealous as i removed my hat to feel my bald spot. Goen had met these two on the internet and they were all planning the slow boat trip down the mighty Mekong into Laos. I was not part of the plan, it was OK, i had my own plans and the nagging fortune from the day before in the back of my mind. Having spent the last two days with Goen i knew i would miss his company but was also ready to go it alone again. After they made there plans, dinner was on everyone's mind, so we set out for the Sunday walking market in hopes of some delectable street food. It is never hard to find in Thailand as abundant as mosquitoes. We hit the flooded market four strong, it was the largest group i had ever been with in my month long trip and it felt odd. It gave me the feeling of walking down shakedown street one looking back for the others, making sure no one was left behind. Anthony reminded me of Colin, seemingly to stop without notice and seemingly unworried about losing the group. I have come to terms with Colin's way of doing things on his own time and so i did for Anthony even though i was STARVING and wished he would put some pep into it. We entered a temple grounds right off the main street that had traffic blocked to turn it into a walking street, i love that. As we entered there was a makeshift food court, i also love the term food court, the idea of so many options so close together. I love a food court. We dispersed and decided to meet again at the tables with our chosen meals. Goen and Toben, able to speak the same language, went one way and i lingered trying to decode a menu as Anthony plotted along to one of the many carts. We all seemed to enjoy our chosen meals as we discussed, mouths full, who was going to buy and try the fried crickets first that we had all encountered on our trip. I had green curry soup with chicken and bamboo with noodles, it was amazing and spicy. Toben bought the crickets and we all stared at each other. Many of you very well may have had them before, but for me, at home in Vermont i remember the way they smushed when i stepped on them when i found them in the basement and the idea of that happening in my mouth was not that appetizing. we all grabbed one and with a cheers down they went. Nothing really, i was expecting something, but it was just crunchy. No big deal. Everyone seemed disappointed haha, i can see their faces. Goen after his second trip around the court and never full no matter how many meals he ate took them, as no one else wanted the rest, some 100 crickets. He reminded me of Chuck "you know me, i could always eat" i have heard him say a million times. We walked back to our guest house and on the way i bought some fresh pineapple. The Thais sell fresh fruit everywhere and sometimes they have these little packets of salt, sugar and chili ground together to dip your fruit in, quite nice really. we got back to our place and Anthony, reminded Toben of the early hour in which there trip would commence as he ordered a round of beers with a knowing smile, he headed for bed. One Aussie down we looked around and picked up another. Dorrian was his name and i grabbed my cards and dice and taught all three how to play, 3man, 7/11 doubles, up the river down the river, golf and of course, Asshole. All of which are American drinking games for you old folk reading this. The night passed with laughter and the shouting of Chuck D, i don't know how to spell it but its a Thai version of "cheers". After i had particularly hot hands at 7/11 doubles, Toben decided i was in need of a good natured headlock as he was on the receiving end and had been doing all the drinking. As he let go he said, arm around me "are you sure you don't want to go with us tomorrow"?, Goen seemed to heartily agree that i should. Even beer's effects on social moral aside, it felt good, i mean why wouldn't right? I debated, and as the night ended and the seven flights of stares seem to go by in a blink of an eye i was doubting my plan and my fortune from the day before "you should not go" i read. The next morning came and i awoke with a smile. I was happy, truly and a bit surprised and a little impressed. I decided to get some brunch it was close to noon anyway. I headed out for some grub, green curry was on my mind. I found it and a laundry mat, i was beginning to smell, mental note of its location. I tried to find a huge temple that i could see from the hotel and i walked into a sign on a different temple wall that offered mediation workshops every Monday at three. I checked my watch, Monday, 1:00 pm, awesome. I found the temple that i was looking for and walked by a bunch of westerners talking with Monks and as i made my second lap around the grounds i stopped and looked unaware of the sign just in front that said literally "don't just stand there and stare, come talk with a Monk about Buddhism", i chuckled to myself. Not really knowing what i want to talk about i sat with three Monks, i asked about suffering and loss and burdens to carry. We discussed reincarnation and finding your calling in life. I left admittedly tearful, for a whole host of reasons. I sat with 15 minutes to spare before my mediation workshop and thought about those who i have lost and wondering where they were in the world now, assuming reincarnation is real. It was nice to know that the world had not lost all my friends and family members spirits. That maybe they were here around us not as a being that hovers over us as i have liked to imagine them, but as other people, or birds or the like. i walked to my mediation session feeling better. I entered a small temple and was unsure just what i would find and i found a Monk sitting with his eyes closed as i knelt to make my silent approach (always be lower than a monk is) his eyes opened and i sat down in a cross between bewilderment and awe as he spoke. I felt like this was something mind alteringly special, and that i had just stumbled upon it, so haphazardly. Suddenly the hairs stood up on the back of my neck and i knew my fortune had been right all along, this was the start of something.    

Bye bye Bangkok, you almost killed me

I left Bangkok for Chiang Mai last Thursday on the night sleeper train. I spent two days on Khoa San rd in Bangkok and after two nights of 4am bedtimes i had seen enough, plus my feet hurt from dancing all night. I had spent the nights drinking and dancing with an Englishman, drinking with him but not dancing i should amend my statement. James was a good bloke who lives in Australia now. A seasoned vet of travel i absorbed as much of his wisdom as i could as i do with every traveler i meet. The day i was to leave Bangkok i waited for my Swiss friends to arrive at Khoa San rd, in the heat, trying my best to re-hydrate after all the Chang beer had forced it from my body the night before. At two in the afternoon i was no further in my quest as it seemed i had been when i was checked out of my hostel at the wee hour of 11 am. Feeling sick, tired and irritable as i was forced to undergo more harassment from every street vendor as i had been for the last two days. Brazen in there attempts to sell you something, they would often interrupt you at dinner, grab your arm as you walked passed or follow you for half a block assuring you that you would look great in a Thai suit. The Swiss couple, Maude and Vincent, smiling as they called out my name, lifted my spirits but did little for my throbbing head. We hugged and embraced and i instantly remembered why i loved them so much. They were happy, confident and always seemed to be smiling even when an argument ensued in french about some fact that seemed to have been disputed many times in the past. They were both able to readily stand there ground but end the small disagreement with a smile and a wink to me, content in their camps. I dig it. It was great to see them and catch up, they had spent one more week at the farm and i was anxious to know how it went. After a too short, hour and a half we hugged, said our well wishes and parted. Them on a seeming endless guest to find a copy of lonely planet India, in french, and I to the train station. Always worried about arriving on time, i got there with almost two and half hours before departure. I was excited to head north but it did little to help my energy level. I found solace in a bowl of noodle soup with pork that was delightful for the cost, 1 USD. After trying to read but still feeling under the weather i gave up quickly. Boarding he train and finding my berth i wondered who i would meet in the other three berths that made up our sleeper room. A rather large but outgoing Slov ( i have since been told that his 100 kilo weight was nothing abnormal for his country and i day dreamed about a country full of giants) was the first and an English girl second followed by a Thai man who spoke not one word of English, we waited and waited as and hour plus passed after our supposed departure time, running on Thai time i heard over and over again. The Slov, named Goen had brought three beers and he offered me one with a smile but i told him i probably had at least three in my system still and that i probably wouldn't touch the stuff for days to come (i would be proved wrong about that prediction the very next day) After a pleasant but cold sleep i woke in Chiang Mai our trip had taken 16 hours but i only noticed about three of them, thankfully. Exiting the train i had no plan, no place to go, no one to go with but there was Goen, in the same boat, we headed for a taxi. I am always aware of my presence and never wanting to impose myself on others, i  find it awkward to say "want to try this together?" but i am getting better at it. We arrived at our first guest house and entered looking for lodging. The lowest price point was 150 Bhat, about 5 bucks but they were full and the next price point was 250 (eight and a half USD)  but it came with its own bathroom, small balcony, fan, queen sized bed, a cold water shower but haha, no toilet paper, written right on the room list. I took it, knowing i would want to find a cheaper room the next day i asked that if anyone left from the 150 rooms that i be considered, "Cahhhh" the Thai said behind the counter, deal struck i headed up the 6 flights of stares, there was no elevator. That night against all my predictions i found myself drinking at a bar complex made up of two authentic reggae bars with live bands and three that rotated reggae with some pop and r&b. I have found a bar heaven if there ever was one. One drink turned into many and there i was dancing again to a live reggae roots band with my giant Slav friend and a Fin we had picked up along the way. If there was one time or place that i knew my friends would like the most it was here alongside the sounds of the Jamaican people. I missed you all, but as i have had to do many times i pushed those thoughts aside in an effort to concentrate on the now, to enjoy the moment, to live here in this time and not what could be or might have been (coincidentally that being a a Buddhist principle was at odds with the last of the five Buddhist precepts "no intoxicants", this trip might find me returning a lay Buddhist, with some exceptions of course)  but we stayed till they kicked us out even then lingering outside the doors with other travelers sharing trip advice, where to go, what to see and how best to get there. Crashing on my bed again pledging to not drink again for a few days i slept. Yesterday brought a late rise but a new, cheaper room with a giant king bed, it must be two queens put together (i only utilized a third of it last night) but no bathroom and on the 7th highest floor. This hostel might be my favorite yet. Yes i have to share a bathroom but the toilet actually has a seat, a real, attached, toilet seat, this one perk was worth extending my stay (which i have since done for a at least four more days) I wish i had packed a bag full of toilet seats i could make a killing over here. My hostel is funky with Buddha statues everywhere, a fish pound, it must have been a grand hotel in its hay day but with no elevator most tourist with money will not be lugging there stuff up 7 flights, it fell into disrepair but still sports a good sized decently clean pool. Lucky again. swimming that morning i was able to shake most of my ills. after a walk to a market and having some wonderful street food, extra spicy, i felt normal for the most part and decided to make the trip with Goen to a hill that loomed over Chiang Mia, where a elephant, white as snow, had trampled though the jungle carrying a Buddhist relic on is back till it died, there on that spot the most beautiful and one of the most sacred of temples was built and when i arrived, Goen in tow i was blessed with holy water kneeling in front of a monk, given a bracelet of holy cotton and had my fortune read though a process in which you kneel in front of a Buddha, shacking many sticks in a wooden cup till one falls out. You get the number off the stick and proceed to read the fortune that corresponds. Mine was "you should not go" i had been debating leaving Chiang Mai for Laos early to float the Mekong with Goen and a Austrian he had meet but something had been saying in my mind to stay and so, on this holy mount, this sacred place my mind was made. I would stay and say goodbye when the time came. The temple aglow, can be seen from my window high and distant in the hills and looking at it for a while last night I believe i am making the right choice even if it means being on my own again. i was able to say no to another round of reggae music and slept from 9:30 to 11:00 am i find myself in great spirits and looking at Goen this morning his eyes barely able to open i knew i had made the best decision. he agreed, he looked like death and i felt sorry for him as he climbed the never ending staircase for more sleep. Spicy fried noodles and a 50 cent fruit (pineapple and orange) everything is right in the world. tonight is the famous Sunday night street market and while i wait for the giant to rise from his giant slumber i write to you all. Be well my friends! love and peace

Long Live The King!

Hey all, I arrived in Thailand two days ago. I got into the city late and by the time i got to my hostel it was 11 and since i started my day a 4 am being driven by tricycle to the bus stop by a guy with no shirt or shoes that everyone calls Tarzan, i was wiped. Slept late, for me these days, but when i did get my butt in gear i jumped a water taxi in search of the fabled backpacker ghetto Khao San Road. My map was not the best one and i am not the best map reader and the Thais don't make it easy, i wound up in front of the first of many temples i would see in my first two days. Giving up on my search and deciding a temple would be a nice start too, i entered. Always weary of anyone that is overly friendly, "backpacker rule number 1", i was stand offish when a man asked if i wanted to go inside. I asked with a grin how much and even with his broken English i could understand the word free clearly. "Today free, all Bangkok temple", why i asked, "King Birthday". Well luck shines on me again. Whipping out a map he proceeded to give me the best route to see as many temples as one man can see in a day and alerted me to the fact that the Thai government, with its deep love for there King, had given the tuktuk (three wheeled taxis) drivers a mandate to ferry any foreigner around the city Wat tripping for the whole day, for 20 Bhat, about 65 cents USD. Well, look at that. So i jumped in, forgetting "life rule number 1", nothing is free in this world, nothing, except love, and in Bangkok that costs too. So off we went, i was told i could take my time, and he would be waiting when i got out. So i experienced my first temple where an enormous standing Golden Buddha is erected (take a look, http://www.lawstude.net/2008/03/temple-of-standing-buddha.html ) it was an amazing sight, i learned how to pray, and for a small donation i was able to write on a roofing tile. I can't tell you what i wrote because then it won't come true, well, that's not true, i made that up. But suffice it to say if any of you start a run of good luck you can thank me later or you can thank me by sending me money, that works too, whatever you feel comfortable with, i mean, you know i AM all alone out here, starving, living in squalor... just sayin, i mean you do love me right?:)  But if for some off chance things don't go your way, that ones on you. After my first temple i was alerted to the fact that we would need to make a pit stop. Alright, sure where too i asked? "Rob a white guy alley, beat up a foreigner corner?" "Just the state sanctioned travel agency so i can get a gas stamp", refer to life rule number 1. O.K., so there i was looking stupid in a travel agency, that i didn't need to be at, not needing any info, looking at a rather unhappy agent and after about 5 minutes i said, "i might be back.". I wouldn't be, but back into the tuktuk i went off to my next temple. The Golden Mount (check it out http://www.sacred-destinations.com/thailand/bangkok-wat-saket-golden-mount.htm)It was amazing, they all are really, each in its own way. After climbing the 300 stairs and banging on my fare share of gongs and ringing my fare share of bells, i was back in my tuktuk, "i am sorry sir we have to go to the official Thai Fabric Exporter". Before i could ask anything he hit the gas, well shit, aight i guess, i mean i can help this guy out right? i mean all i am paying is what, 65 cents. So there i was sitting in front of a tailor, looking dirty, and certainly not someone who looked like he wore a lot of suits, i spent 15 minutes going over fabric styles, suit dimensions, colors until i leaned over and said "look buddy, i am not sure that i really need a suit you know, i am backpacking for a year and well, there is no way i am fitting this suit in my bag for 10-11 more months you know?" Well damn if he didn't have an answer for that one. "today in honor of the king we will send it home for free!" dang it all King! I took about 5 more minutes before i said i would think about it and come back later. i wouldn't be coming back. On to the next temple Mr Kong, or Kang or Kung! i never did hear it just right. Getting out i heard a large growl in my stomach and realized that i had forgotten to eat. Surely my driver would not want me to experience all these temples on an empty stomach i thought. i walked the street outside in search of food. Food is never far and i noticed a lot of white people eating at a few outside spots, (backpacker rule 22, where white people go is most likely not as cheap or authentic) so i turned and right there i saw a feverish line of Thais and some where yelling, who knows what. So i decided to stand in line, everyone was eating what looked like noodles on a plate and a bowl of soup. As i got to the both, i was handed a portion of noodles. I looked back and there was another white guy behind me, i asked "do you know whats going on here?" he didn't, but noticed that there wasn't any money exchanging hands. Maybe its free i thought, he thought that could be the case as we shuffled ahead to where the soup was being ladled out. (i remembered life rule number one and scanned for a tailor or travel agent. i didn't see any) i got my soup and tried to ask how much and just got a bunch of bows. Maybe the King had something to do with this truly free meal. So i sat on the side walk and finished the noodles, delightful. Then i was able to truly inspect the soup, I went digging and found an egg that looked as if it was from the 50's (they eat those here) some more congealed blood and what i could only guess was some animals dietary track. I was going to have to pay for this meal, my price was eating it, damn rule number 1! i tried a little of everything repeating Lauren's mantra over and over in my head "do it for the stories, do it for the stories, oh that intestine is chewy, keep going, do it for the stories" i couldn't finish it, well i could have but i wasn't about to get sick all over the street. That was one story i could do without. Full and happy i was on to the next temple. It was not as majestic as the first two but no one was there so i got a hands on look and walk through with a very helpful lay Buddhist. As i exited, i noticed no Mr Keng, "Mr America sir" My driver had gained about 75 pounds and grew a beard. "Driver had to go, i take you the rest of the way, for same same price". No that's not a typo, "Same Same" instantly became my new favorite saying, and i hear it a lot. All right, didn't matter to me really, one driver as good as another and one tuk tuk being as good as any other, same same, i got it. "Sir we go to Chinese Jewelry store, you look interesting, no buy look, look only, 10 minute only" ahhh crap. So, there i was, "oh THIS is jade, no i think i like that red one, oh that's 1,000 dollars huh? that's it? oh dang it doesn't fit, how about this one? how much is that?" wondering if my act was working, the facial expression never changing, i guessed not. "oh you have postcards! i will take three" Frowns. snatching them out of my hands and into a bag. Phew, that over with, alright lets Wat. "We go to tailor first", my driver said, "that's it i'm done, no more, you have sucked the life out of me", "what u mean Mr America?", "nothing, i am going to huff it from here" but looking around i had no idea where here was, "alright! one more and then that's it" it was getting late and i didn't want to be late for the Kings Birthday party. So there i was again, another tailor... blah blah blah after sweating it out over prices i would never settle on for 10 minutes i was out the door. Thank the gods. I didn't have much energy after that, that last tailor was quite persistent on getting a down payment. i proceeded on to the festivities. It was like nothing i have ever seen. There are some seven or eight million Thais in Bangkok and every last one of them was there. It was the biggest birthday bash on the planet i have no doubt. It also was a claustrophobic's nightmare. I watched not understanding one word, not one, for about 3 hours some singing, candle lighting, fireworks, flag waving and Chinese lantern floating it was over. trying to get out of the heat that was made by so many bodies in one place i wandered in the direction i thought my hostel was in, a river of lanterns floating over me climbing ever higher. I had to stop and ask directions and was told the nearest skyrail home was too far to walk to. I decided i better try and walk less i get in another TukTuk and have to stop for cloths and jewelry five times on the way home. so an hour plus later i was on the skyrail, two trains and 4 blocks later i was "home". Tired, feet sore, i collapsed on my bunk hoping my other seven roommates wouldn't make too much noise...it had been a good day in Bangkok.

My sun sets on the Philippines

This will be my last blog post from the Philippines, i leave for Thailand on Saturday. I spent my most wonderful day here so far yesterday when i finally rented a Banka to take me to the islands you can see in this pic (it was taken from my front porch). When i got to Pundakit beach, where i have been living for the last week, i knew that somehow i would get to them (not that it was some great feat, you just need money, but still). They seem deceivingly close, maybe close enough to swim to i first thought. But after watching the many boats leaving for them everyday and watching them turn to tiny dots on the horizon my dreams of getting there for free where dashed. Asking around town i was quoted 1000 pesos repeatedly, once even 1500. i held out and as i made friends that owned boats of there own there price growing less by the day but running on what is referred to as Filipino time, those offers never materialized. Still i stayed hopeful that i would get there for less but as the days wore on i was preparing myself for the real possibility of hiring anyone at any cost. As luck would have it the ever resourceful Auntie Olivia mentioned that her brother had a boat and he might be able to take me. The next day i was offered to be taken for 350 as long as my guide Richie could fish while i explored. I spent the day hiking the big island, exploring the old Spanish outpost that sits swallowed by an ever determined jungle to reclaim what was once apart of it. I finally was truly able to put the snorkel gear that i had lugged this far to its proper use. Harvesting my inner Jacques Cousteau i marveled at the sea life, coral and fish. I caught a long glimpse at a eel, watching it hunt from afar, very afar. I saw my first rather good sized octopus. Fish that were small, large, schools and loners. I saw fish with such bright psychedelic colors i knew right away it must be a deadhead. I watched fish change colors as it laid lazily in wait for its next meal, Jimmy Buffet fan i figured. Some were scared of me at first sight, others stared at me wondering much as the locals do here "what is this white face dong here". I found my ample belly helped me coast above these miniature seas city's without much effort from my arms and legs, much like my snorkel gear, i was thankful that i was able to use it finally, for a good purpose after lugging it all this way (besides scaring the averagely slim locals). I was ferried to all three islands and found the crystal clear waters of lore. Getting an early start i had swam, skipped stones and searched for that ever elusive perfect sea specimen that i could take home with me for four hours, all before lunch. I watched as Bankas jockeyed for position in a sea alive with jumping tuna. The tuna i watched unaware that their feast of small fish, their effort for survival, would lead to there eventual demise, and my next dinner. I ate fresh tuna, fried with... wait for it... rice! what else? Sigh. I will not miss that part of the Philippines. As the day wore on i climbed an outcrop of rock and suffered my first casualty a small but relentlessly bloody cut. i at first paid it no mind, but remembering some fact about sharks being able to smell blood from some ungodly distance away. I stayed put till the pressure i was applying would stop it from making me the whitest and slowest moving target in the sea. I have had to swim all these days with a shirt on, having no one to put lotion on my hard to reach middle back. It was odd at first, common place now and i have been able to avoid the suns fiercest weapon. The day came to an end and my driver, do you call them that? my captain had caught nine tuna, both of us satisfied, well, the only words spoken to each other that we both understood were those understood only by the widest of grins. It had been a wonderfully fulfilling day and i mentally checked seeing the islands of my to do list as we coasted through the blue waters that reflected the tremendously blue skies above. Many of you no doubt have swam like i swam and seen fish and sea creatures greater then these but for me, it was paradise fulfilled. Landing on the beach and thanking el capitan i set out to quench my ample thirst under the trees you see in this picture. The rain began to fall and i welcomed its cooling ability. It had been the first drops of rain since i had gotten here. I was able to finally convince myself that my cloths smelled bad enough to do a wash. So, this AM as i sat with my coffee reflecting and writing in my journal while watching the sea and my cloths drying.

To the children: You will never read this, but i wish you well. Raneer, your big smile and easy laughs have made my days funner and reminded me of my younger brothers. At 4 years old you are smarter than your age and even though all you do is repeat the words that i say someday you will understand them and have a bright future, stay curious. Ronnick, the trouble maker of the group. I can tell your life hasn't been an easy one and i choke up a little seeing where you spend your nights. i hope i was able to impart just s little bit of guidance in you. You often worked your darn est to get me to buy you something, repeating Jack, chips, jack chips over and over, but i was proud of you when you returned that necklace to the man who dropped it, i know i made you but you did the right thing and look you got the chips after all. Janiepo, i truly hope that black eye was gotten by some wrestling match and not the proverbial "fall down the stairs" i fear the worst. i have not met your parents as i have most the other kids but you have been forced to grow up early. i have seen you carrying your little sister everywhere even though you yourself, not to long ago needing carrying of your own. Mika, stay cute little one, your mom loves you. And little baby Justin who was born to the Bungalow family not more than 10 days before i arrived here, you have a great cook and caring mother and a fun and smart farther who wakes up early to fish and stays up late working in the store. I don't know most of your names but i enjoyed showing you my only magic trick, your the only ones that ever really liked it haha. Be well and safe.

To the other friends i have met, some of you may read this, Rona and Kevin, thank you for taking me in and giving me a free place to stay and someone to talk to, joke with and sing with, even though i hated every minute of my Aerosmith renditions, you were encouraging. Aunti Olive, thanks for trying to help me get to the lost waterfall as i will always remember it and thanks for being a good friend, i have really appreciated it. In a land where i have none you were the closest thing to. Rondell, Ludi, Benz, Raymond, Mr. Bert, Marie the chef, Oliver the fisherman, Rob the cop and your wonderful wife who cooked for me on your one day off. There is more but thanks, truly and as many of you have said, come back, you have to come back. I just might. I will certainly try.


In closing, it is with bittersweetness that i leave the Philippines. Happy to be heading west, but sad to go away from the closet thing to home i have felt yet. Its only been three weeks, I know haha, i am making it more dramatic per usual right Lauren :), but thanks again. Get on that trash problem and put down the rice for one meal and i will definitely be back. promise. Alright Thailand, you ready for me?

Right down by the beeeeach

I am alive. I am also doing great, this week has been ridicules in more ways than one. Boarding the bus to manila i wondered what was awaiting me on the magical ride that is Filipino public transit. Sitting i noticed that the seat in front of me was moved and re-bolted to the floor and coincidentally a few inches closer to me. I wedged my legs into position, i literally had my knees jammed into the back of the seat in front of me. I wondered if everyone was as uncomfortable. As i looked around i noticed men with there legs crossed and girls wiggling there feet free and easy. Dang! I tried to stay positive, "its only a 9 hour bus ride, it will go by quick". When getting a bus ticket in many places you pic your seats by signing your name in one of the empty spaces on grid. There was no one to blame but myself, unlucky pick i guess. As i wondered what had happened to the old seat that had to removed the bus began to fill. The man in front of me took his seat and just that little pressure kept my leg from moving even the slightest without help from my arms. As the night grew later, we all tried to get some sleep many people reclining there seats to add to the comfort of riding a bus for 9 hours and the man in front of me was no different. shocked awake by the seat slamming my knees as he tried over and over to lower the back. i leaned over the seat and said "sorry man, truly but its not a broken seat its my legs that are preventing you from moving back", most Filipinos know some English at least enough to get around and this man stopped instantly. As i swallowed a motion sickness pill to help with the roads rolling hills. i dosed off again, only to be shocked yet again buy the same maneuver. i hadn't gotten through to him. I tried again, actually many times that night but still have the bruises at a testimony to his lack of English understanding. As we came into Manila at 3 am we were told for our own safety we would be allowed to stay on the bus till daybreak, that was a new one for me. So there i slept. After calling "my guy" in manila to procure his cab, i sat wondering what the next week would bring. Krystle, my friend from Boston has a stepfather who has a brother who has a place in San Antonio that i was free to stay at along as i wanted. The details were a tidbit light and my instructions on finding the pace slim. Regardless, after three buses and a taxi and a total of 15 hours transit i was coasting on a tricycle on my way to Pandakit beach in search of the "Surf and Sun" of which my driver told me he knew its location. I had stared at him, feeling that he had no idea where it was, but asking four or five time varying my sentences he assure me. So there i was rolling in town, the first stop, a place to ask for directions wahhh wahhhh haha. i think he and my favorite bus passenger were cousins. No one had heard of the "Sun and Surf resort" They all talked for what seemed like a decade in tugulog me sitting there trying to explain what the word surf meant, "no, NOT surfing. Surf." Finally i said the proprietors name "Kevin" Having no last name i figured it was a long shot, but instantly everyone said "Ahhhhh Kevins place, yeah sure sure", lesson learned. I go there to find a charming bungalow right on the beach. When i say on the beach i mean in the sand, nothing separated me from the deep blue green waters but a small fence and a fewr bankas (Filipino boats that look like a big canoe with outriggers). As i set my things down i noticed that the bamboo hut had no lock. Hmmmm, not good. But i was assured with a laugh that my things were safe there when i asked if they had a secure spot for my things. "everyone is afraid of Kevin" i was told, can't wait to meet him i thought! Alarm bells going off in my mind i tried to think about what i would do with all my stuff, not wanting to leave it unattended, ever. I sat down still in awe of the beauty to a wonderful meal cooked by the resident chef Marie. Fried chicken?! there wasn't a menu, i had just been asked if i was hungry, there wasn't a price list either but i was staying for free and that all i needed to know. It was hands down the best chicken i have had. Feeling slightly better about my predicament. i sat lazily looking out at the beckoning water. Three large island lay not far from the beach and i wondered if i could swim there. I tore off my dirty cloths (the last hostel forbid its residents from washing cloths but did offer a cleaning service, how convenient! i opted out. never the one to worry about smelling a little, or a lot) and jumped in. Wow, the familiar feeling of the ocean and the wonderful lapping of the waves lifted my spirits. This week has been amazing and the most expensive thing i have bought was sunscreen, no one uses it here. I have been hiking with a friend i have made named autie Olivia. She was to be my guide (for free, others wanted 500 pesos) to hidden waterfalls. We trekked for 3 hours and when there was a split in the river and i was asked which way i wanted to go, i wondered who was guiding who. As the mountain stream grew smaller we were forced into the bush, pushing our way threw, me guiding, her following till i said i had had enough, tired in the 90 degree heat we trekked back. Maybe another day, or guide i thought. I have eaten fresh tuna brought in from the resident fisherman, oliver and cooked whole on the grill. I have been invited to cock fight training camp, feasted on a homemade meal a couple made just for me. I have been treated to what feels like 1000 rounds of brandy, drinking it, sometimes reluctantly, almost every night as bottle after bottle is passed around the table each taking a shot till it is done. Just when i thought that would be it, another bottle would materialize in front of me. I have been brought to the local market and treated to fresh coconut milk and spent a long night playing "Sorry" with the locals, their all locals here and i am the only "white face of white monkey" anywhere near here. Most girls say they want my eyes and my large nose, exclaiming in front of the boyfriends and husbands that they wished there respective mate had those features, making me just a little bit uncomfortable, to say the least. There have been some sketchy moments too,when at night i left my bungalow to take a picture of the sunset over the beach (we face west and they have been the sunset of legend proportions) one guy shouted out from the darkness "hey buddy, where you go?" knowing that my bungalow was without a lock. i thought, well nowhere now damn it. ( i have since used what i call the trifector of security measures, a Bandana, a cloths line and a padlock) When a beach jewelry dealer would not stop looking at my watch and trying to trade me the same Chinese made necklaces that they sell on all beaches (substitute the name pundakit beach for myrtle beach or ocean city) and me trying to explain that it was worthless, (i had bought the cheapest they had at target) him pronouncing "Timex! i want this watch, trade me watch", i have not worn it since. Or when after a few brandy rounds someone produced a snack called "Ding Dongs" and i explained that i often call my friends that when there being stupid, or vise versa. When that didn't go over well and i was asked to explain what i meant hoping someone would chime in with a joke or anything really to cut the tension, and no one did. i apologized to the man who's favorite snack i had offended (it was time to call it a night). But all in all its been paradise and i have had a great time joking with the children that often come by to ogle at the "white face" with all the odd trinkets that they have never seen before. I am getting to know people here just in time for me to leave. I wish i could stay but the road calls. Just three more days... wish you all could be here with me and i missed you all dearly on thanksgiving. i will through one back on the beach for all you stuck in the cold rain and snow. Krystle, thank you for going out of your way. Thank you a million times over.

Bontoc to Sagada to Banaue

Leaving the farm was hard but it felt good climbing up the mountain on my own again. when i reached the top dripping in sweat i had my first cold drink, a San Miguel, in a week. I really took the simple pleasures of refrigeration for granted and i pledge never to leave the fridge door open again Mom, promise.  I hopped a Jeepney back to Bagio then a bus to Bontoc, took maybe 6-7 hours. Some of the bus's here have two seats on each side of the aisle like normal but another fold down seat to make it a 5 person row. In my mind i kept thinking about just how i would hurdle these people in the aisle if a fire or other emergency were to occur. An emergency seemed plausible as we careened around corners meant for half a car in a bus clearly made pre soviet union. Most of the mountain roads here take the high route where in Vermont most of the roads are in the valley. We were high enough for my ears to pop and at some points at the very tips so much that there was nothing but air on either side of the bus. My plan was to go to Bontoc for there Sunday market where my guide book said there might be elder head hunters that come down from the hills to sell the fruits of there labor. I decided to head to the Bontoc museum to learn some more before i came across any of these elders as to not become a trophy from some simple slight. It was interesting, not mind blowing but for a buck i could swing it. There were a few photos taken in the early part of the 20th century with men minus there heads that i found grisly yet fascinating. I read that head hunting was practiced for no real reason except the towns people were bored. They would get all bored then work themselves up and head out for some fresh heads. Given the way they lived (the same way for 2000 years) i would think they got bored often. After i left i no longer felt hungry for some odd reason and i made my way to the market. I didn't see any elders really, at least not in tribal dress but i did see some butcher shops that were equally as unsettling to my stomach as the headless men. without refrigeration the meats layout on display in the heat and i kept thinking that "maybe the pig (whose head was on display) was just killed" but probably not. As i passed each butcher shop the men and women would wave a long stick with a handkerchief on it to scary away any fly's in hopes that i would consider buying a choice cut like the intestines or eye sockets. I didn't, instead i bought a homemade cinnamon bun wheel the size of a medium pizza for 50 cents. On to Sagada! This hip mountain town is where white people like me seem to cluster. Caves and waterfalls abound and cheap homestays make leaving hard. I decided to spend two nights there for 5 bucks a night, not bad, not bad at all. The power was off in town for most of my stay but i was able to get out and do some treking on my own. I walked to the caves to see Sagada's famous "hanging coffins". Guided tours were available but the price for one person was the same as three so i decided to check out the caves myself. As i descended into the Sumaging cave just as far as i cared to go, even with my fancy boots it was slick and i could hear the little chirping of thousands of bats. As i walked up a guide and five Filipinos where headed down and i couldn't help but notice that the guide was wearing flip flops and two of the men where wearing no shoes at all, wow. immediately i thought to tell them that i think there must be a lot of bat shit on the ground and they might want something on their feet but then, haha, i thought they must know. Maybe they like bat shit? Maybe its good for calluses or dry skin? while i thought of this they stopped me to see if i cared to join for 100 pesos. A two hour cave tour for what was normally went for 500-800 pesos was a great deal. I was thinking it over when a man with two gold front teeth and no shoes put his arm around me an urged me into the immense dark hole in the earth. There are times when you are traveling, anywhere, states or abroad when something just doesn't feel quite right. Staring into his mouth and looking back into the cave this was one of those times. I was in the forest by myself and no one knew i was there. Becoming a real life Gollum minus my money and my pack suddenly seemed like a real life possibility. i had to decline, i kicked myself a bit for not being more adventurous but i have heard many stories from other travelers and they all start the same "i knew i probably shouldn't, i didn't follow my instincts or something seemed wrong but i said F it" so i quickly got over it and headed to my next cave. The Lumiang cave's entrance was full of ancient wooded coffins stacked high against the wall. This place was sacred and you could feel something when standing at its six story entrance. An eerie calm maybe. I left there and headed back to my room to grab a shower, i was drenched from the hike, only to find that the power was out and cold showers were the only thing going. i am learning to love them. Its less about the pleasure of the shower and more a game about trying to get in and out, clean, as fast as you can. After a decent night by the bonfire with some other travelers drinking rum and pineapple juice (a 1/5 cost 1.75 usd :) ). i woke early and went back to Bontoc in hopes that the power was back on so the only ATM in town would be working. i was in luck. I boarded a Jeepney to Banaue a two hour hair raising ride through the mountain where landslides seem to take up half the road in many places. This was rice terrace country, i stared out the window at the beauty of it all. Endless mountains and valleys covered at least partially with terraces .i was in awe as i finished my cinnamon bun and last of my water but was jolted out of this wonderful landscape dream when the woman on my right asked very politely if i wanted her to throw my trash out the window. My heart sunk as i shook my head and said thank you anyway and with a shrug she tossed hers. Thus is the paradox of the Philippines, bewildering beauty marred in part by trash that no one seems to care about. The rest of the ride went by decently as i watched the woman on my left pick lice from her daughters hair and toss them out the window. That sort of trash throwing i was ok with. i discretely  tried to wiggle a few centimeters farther away but no luck this Jeepney was packed. Banaue is home to a UNESCO world heritage site, these rice terraces are supposed to be the eighth wonder of the world but were recently taken off the list and i am not sure why but couldn't help thinking trash and poverty to be partly to blame. The mountains here are those of legend and appear on the filipino 1000 dollar bill. I took a tricycle to the top and spent my afternoon ooohing and aweing. Night fell as it always does around 6pm and i decided that i would make my first trip to a local bar. I don't have a lot of money to spend at bars so this was a treat. The only place open was "Friends country music bar" haha, damn! ah well from the noise i figured it was hoppin inside. Well i was wrong. I was the only patron but settled in with a "Red Horse Extra Strong" anyway (6.9% for about a buck a bottle). The house band was on a run, willy Nelson, John Denver and Elton John haha so i decided to stick around. It was a sight to behold. Well, things picked up and by the end of the night i was arm wrestling the locals as we hoisted our glasses to anything and everything. i lost more then i won that's for sure but had a hard time saying "no thanks i don't arm wrestle". It was a really fun night and wish you all could have been there with me to help them sing jimmy buffet in style.

WWOOFing it up

They call me Mr. Machete
I've been eating lots of rice
with very little spaghetti
hackin all day, through the trees
got lots of water but can't make it freeze
there isn't any power, in this valley
sticking to the map like i be Randy McNally
No need to get lost, almost cold enough to frost
all the cats and dogs have thousands of fleas
that rice wine's got me beggin on my knees

haha, i had a lot of time to think this last week while at the ENCA farm in Acop. For those of you that are not familiar with WWOOFing, a little background might be necessary. Essentially you agree to work a full day on an organic farm (there are hundreds of WWOOF locations worldwide) for three hots and a cot. So i signed up to pull a weeks worth of duty at a small family farm in the jungle or the Philippines... I arrived on Monday to warm smiles from my host family and lots of wags from there eight plus dogs of every shape and size. Corky was my favorite, the little guy only had one eye left but he was still rockin, and itching. In fact they all were, itching, a lot. Now I, being a dog lover, but also being very allergic to flea bites was caught in a dilemma from the first moment i opened the gate till the last moment i left six days later. To pet or not to pet? I arrived just in time for the family meal and over pigs feet and rice i was told a little history of the family and the farm. During the Japanese occupation Grand Mother Colosan was forced to flee into the valley and hid in a cave for a good portion of three years. Her brother had joined the military, American Army actually and the Japanese were hunting down all family members of those who served the enemy. She survived and had eight children all of which still work on or in one way shape or form for the farm that is in the same valley where she hid for those three long years. One of the daughters, Olive, lives in the valley at the farm and it was with her that i was to spend the next week and share so many laughs with. Olive's father fought the government for 30 years over the farms land rights in dispute was 45 hectares of thick lush green valley. He won his fight and now there is a beautiful organic farm and education center on the land he fought so hard for. After lunch i jumped into a very old jeep and we took off down the mountain towards the farm. I have been on a professional jeep tour before and they have nothing on Bob and this mountain road. He seemed to know what i was saying when i told him what a great driver he was but for him, its just part of his day and i don't think he realizes, or maybe it was that he didn't understand me at all. His smile said enough. From there Olive and i walked with our gear over two rivers, using only a small tree as a bridge. I fell right in the second river, once i got off balance, my pack took me down. I was only wet up to my knees but it was a heck of a way to start.
The farm itself is beautiful. Traditional hunts blend into the surroundings and guava, papaya, jackfruit, lemons, limes, oranges, two types of coffee plants, bamboo, editable ferns, orange ginger and wild tomatoes grow everywhere and all you need to do is pick them and enjoy. I was joined by a french speaking Swiss couple and for the first four days we hacked and pulled our way through the jungle with a machete and sickle clearing paths that had been swallowed up by months of neglect. It was hard work and i was forced to work in my sandals because my shoes where still wet, of course. To my surprise there were few creepy crawlies lurking under the brush (i expected a spider or snake, rat or some unknown fungi to pounce at any moment) except for ants of all sizes and colors, many of them biters. Damn ants, always up my pant legs. If anyone has seen the movie Platoon or Apocalypse Now (both were filmed in the Philippines) you know what type of jungle we were dealing with. But Olive fed us well, and kept our energy up with a different entree every meal, always with rice, always. i had rice coming out of my ears. Vincent and Maude the Frenchy Swiss were great company and we had lots of laughs as we sweated it out in heat. I took only one shower that whole week and it was in a river all to myself that flowed from a cave the size of a minivan as fresh as water can get. We boiled all of are drinking water on wood stove which gave it a smokey taste i grew to love. Olive brought only two of the family dogs (snow white and brownie) down with her to the farm joining the three resident cats (Ollie, Sophie and the little Tinker Bell) and the 33 some odd free range chickens (trying to count them was impossible). There was only one rooster, a trouble maker that was made to be caged and he seemed to crow whenever he felt like it in a sign of defiance. So when he crowed so did I and I consider myself something of a professional at this point. On the fourth day we bribed Peter (a college plants science major and native Filipino) to bring us some rum, gin and "something local" from up high on the ridge where the small town of Acop was located. He did not fail us and after we picked some lemons, limes and oranges we had warm rum and cokes, gin and orange juice's and some of the local fire water (homemade rice wine, a big bottle of it). Trying to save enough for my last night on the farm a day later. The walk up the hill took about an hour, straight up the mountain and i decided to let bob drive my large pack up the night before i left. As i gave bob my pack he gave me a new WWOOFer Madalena, she was Portuguese but had spent several years in the states and her English was as good as any. It was my job to show her to the farm and so we set off across the first river, she made it across but i warned her that the next crossing was the hardest. It felt odd, i felt like a seasoned vet showing the new recruit the ropes. As we approached the second crossing, i gave her all the tips i knew, but no luck, in she went backwards up to her neck. I pulled her free of the river that had grown from the recent rains and we laughed on the rocks. She fit right in and that night I taught the three others how to play a few popular drinking games from the states golf, up the river down the river and bullshit but it was Asshole that truly amazed them. They fell in love with it, making sure to write all the rules down of which there are many. we played into the night and when all the booze was gone we played some more. I woke the next morning with a very sizable headache only to stand at the foot of the mountain that i was about to climb wondering what those Filipinos put in the rice wine beside rice. I made it out however, in one piece taboot, still amazed at the week i had just had. I miss the Swiss couple and Olive very much and wish i had gotten to know Madalena better, they are truly kindred spirits. In closing i want to thank Lindsey Hunt for turning me on to WWOOFing in the first place, without you going out of your way to tell me about it i would never have had this life changing opportunity. Thanks buddy. So that was my WWOOFing week. I was off on my own again to Sagada north about 6 hours in the hills of the Cordillera, it was time, my shoes were growing mossy.

Manila to Acop

Riding north from Manila on the Victory Liner was a lesson in off road, big rig driving. But we were on a road, at least as good as any i have seen here. The bus driver, clearly a professional showed me just how it was done. We passed cars, flashed our high beams, honked and road bumpers for the entire 6 hours, swerving and breaking only to gun it again when semi clear of what ever obstacle had gotten in his way occasionally oncoming traffic. I arrived at Bagio city just after 3 am, i had been told it would take closer to 7 hours but we made it in just over 5. I, not having a place to stay and not caring to venture into the unknown darkness that was the sleeping city, decided to camp out and make my home for the night right there under a handful of eerie incandescent. i woke many times, but for good at sunrise with the need to find the local "comfort room" as they are so eloquently called. I can say that one thing is for sure, no matter what they are called i have encountered not one that i would deem comfortable. As i left the comforts of the local bathroom I over heard the song "no soy americano" and i remembered a little dance preformed by the great Oakley masterminded by Alan and Kris. I turned a corner and could see some possible miscreants milling just outside the door and as i approached all but one stared at me as i emerged. The one who didn't was singing along with the song. He was nudged and looked up also."think fast i thought" then in a spur of inspiration i did a little jig. Nothing. one second, two seconds (maybe the longest of my life) and the man who had been singing started again and i did a little more dancing, laughter erupted and i was applauded as i walked past. Phew. The Filipinos are very warm people if you just get past there often hard exterior. With a smile i headed to town in hopes of making contact with the farm. My phone was not working just when i needed it most of all. In times of doubt i am learning to just sit and be patient, so i sat and had a cup of coffee on the outskirts of town and by the time i had finished my second round i had talked with the farm and was confident of how to get there. Walking into Bagio in the wee hours of the morning, on a Monday was not very intimidating. A few directions and a number of pointed outstretched arms urged me to walk a little furthur where i could find Dangwa station. I got there looking for a Jeepney (local transit of unknown origin, many are Mercedes) to take me to Acop. A very nice gentlemen told me that in fact i was wrong and that they leave from a different terminal. They use the word terminal but really street corner would suffice. Off again i went in search, after a few more stops to consult the locals i was told more than once, "Dangwa station". By this time i the streets where flooded and quite a bit more intimidating. Was this man wrong? Or was the farm and everyone else wrong? Back i trode up the hill and was soon approached by the same man. I told him of my quest and he assured me that he was right, in fact so sure he walked me nearly all the way there. Everyone else was wrong, go figure. I loaded into the back of a Jeepney about to depart.The Jeepney can hold up to i would say 25 people and more if you care to ride on the roof. the one hour trip would cost me 21 pesos. Just about 50 cents. Imagine going an hour for 50 cents in the states. there seemed to be no formal way to give the driver your fare. People just simply paid when they chose and passed the fare, person to person to the driver who navigated the streets full of people, debris and a large amount of stray dogs with one hand as his other made change. Passing the change over his shoulder, back it went to whoever it was meant for. Each Jeepney has a colorful name and elaborate decorations. On my trip i decided to jot some of the better names down. "Cold Dessert", "Shadow Chaser", "Midnight Blue" and my personal favorite the "Diana Ross" these names were just some of the many hundreds we passed. Apparent in my Jeepney was a few "wear your seat belt" signs. What was not so apparent was where the seat belts could be found. Certainly not on the seats and certainly not on the roof. As i sat i reached into my bag and pulled out a sack of clementines i had picked up for breakfast. i pulled on the bag and like a volcano shooting bright balls into the air they went everywhere. i quickly said, "oranges for everyone!" (as they are called by those who don't know how to say clementines in English) but only a few seemed to know what i meant. quicker than i could say "would you mind handing me that" i had them all placed nicely in my lap with smiles from all. I was thankful but wondered if anything could be easy for me, just once. I still laugh thinking about it. Beyond the city i was amazed to find that we were in fact high in the mountains. something i could not tell in the dark of night when i arrived. Steep ravines cascaded down all around as we bumped our way to Acop. A quick bang on the ceiling to stop and a very thankful "salamant" i was standing in the middle of a very small Filipino town with no real idea of what direction to go in. I was directed to the local Municipality Center. Off i went a tid bit nervous about what the next week would hold for me.

Pacquiao, the legend

When i came to Manila i was asked almost instantly after getting into the cab, if i was going to watch the fight. "fight"? i asked. "Pacquiao vs Marquez"! I shook my head. A frown grew across his face and i instantly decided it was best to change my answer less i end up a statistic. "Maybe" I said. "who do you want to win"? he hit the brakes and looked in the mirror, "Pacquiao"! Picking up on his tone and eye language i chimed in "Yeah me too, totally, i hate that Marquez guy" He didn't buy it but he took mercy on me and i was driven directly to my hostel. i really didn't give it another thought but the next morning the security guard that i had chatted up the day before asked me "are you going to watch the fight? see the streets"? i looked around and they looked empty, "Everyone in the Philippines is watching it" he said. He suggested i watch it across the street at a hotel that was offering it with a brunch buffet. The idea of getting in on something that was captivating the country was too good of an opportunity to miss and i wandered over to check it out. It was 9:30 am and i was told in fact that there was only one ticket left. I bought it on the spot for 700 pesos (about 16 bucks) and was told i better get a seat on the double. "Salaman", utilizing the only word i knew. Surprised looks and giggles from the ladies behind the counter reaffirmed the notion that even if i butchered it, showing that i am making an effort goes a long way. If you are like me and not a boxing fan, you might have missed the biggest thing to happen here in a longtime too. As fate would have it, i was in the elevator on my way. the fight was scheduled for 1:00 pm but at almost 10:00 am the room was packed with some 300 people. I found an empty seat and was told i could leave my complementary water on it in order to hold it and go take the shower i so badly needed. so there i left my headband and water. I hurriedly packed and showered and was back with all my gear for the fight of the year. I went to my seat and was informed that in fact it was taken. I looked down and sure enough there was my headband and water. "no, no, this seat is taken" i was told again, "this is my husband" pointing three seats down. Apparently that fact won the disagreement. Not knowing what to make of it, not wanting to make a big deal about it, being the only one standing, the only white guy in the room and the only one wearing two backpacks, i searched the sea of curious faces for an empty seat. Not 5 seconds had gone by when someone said, "here, take this one" she got up and moved and boy was i thankful. "Salaman, Salaman" grins all around and i found myself sitting within a family of six. Parents, their two daughters and their daughters husbands. I was asked who i was rooting for and the whole family and indeed anyone in ear shot turned and waited for my answer. Having learned my lesson, i threw some shadow punch and pronounced "Pacquiao"! extra loudly so that there was no mistake that this odd looking white guy was firmly in their corner. Cheers and pats on the back from the Flores family and a particularly happy look from Mother Flores. The Flores family and i hit it off them taking pics of me and i them as they told me about their golden boy Pacquiao. I learned not only was he the welter weight champion of the world but a congressman, singer and actor. From what i gathered this was the third fight between him and Marquez (all you sports people are shaking your heads no doubt wondering where i have been for the last few years) With one draw in the first fight and a particularly contentious win for Pacquiao in the second. This was going to be a battle for the ages. The two had a rivalry that was compared to Muhamed Ali and Joe Frazier. How lucky to have been able to be there for this monumental event. the beginning of the fight started with the singing of the Mexican and Filipino national anthems. I stood with the whole room for the Filipino anthem and was in awe of the beauty of it really, really great anthem. Then, i heard from the speakers, "its now time for the American anthem". As i stood and removed my bandanna, i was clearly the only American but when it finished no one clapped harder then the Flores family, bless them. The fight was a nail biter, 12 rounds of pounding and punishment from both sides. Girls shrieked when Pacquiao was hit and men cheered when he was able to counter. Almost everyone in the crowd was pretty certain that he had lost going into the final decision. As luck would have it, Pacquiao, the pride of the Philippines, held onto his title. The room went crazy and i found myself hugging and highfiveing everyone in arms reach. Just another wow moment from across the globe. Ok, on to the bus terminal for my 6 hour overnight ride north. Miss you all.