When I was waiting to board my plane to Bangkok last week, I figured that buying a few extra bottles of water wouldn't be such a bad idea. And when I found some ridiculously over-priced bottles and proceeded to pay for them, the cashier asked where I was from and then, where I was traveling to. Within minutes, without prompting, she told me that the reason she had never traveled was because she had had a baby too young and was currently expecting. I felt nervous, awkward, and short for words. I looked around, as we humans do, dodging the bullet right in front of us. When my eyes returned to meet hers, I let out a sigh and told her that a baby sounds exciting and now her son will have a play mate. She looked at me, smiled, giggled under her breath and told me to have a safe journey. I walked away, towards to my gate, and smiled as well. It's amazing, I remembering thinking, how easily people will tell us their whole life stories, even if all we have time for is a small exchange over a few bottles of water. It just takes one.
Bangkok is hot. humid. smoggy. It's a city where motorbikes and mopeds are a licensed form of taxis and the only reason I haven't ridden one yet is because whenever I have needed a form of transportation other than my own legs, I had a backpack and god knows if I got on a moped with my backpack, I'd last about a hot two seconds before falling backwards. So, when my pack starts to lighten up or I just want some fun, I'll hop on the back of one of those. In the mean time, I stick to the almighty tuk tuk. Pronounced, took took, the tuk tuk is a rickshaw, but holds up to 6 people and for some strange reason is much more expensive than an air conditioned taxi. I always thought it was because it is more of a tourist attraction, but plenty of Thais take them so I've given up trying to find a reason to explain that one.
There is rarely one person on a motorbike and even two is far from the norm; It is more likely that you will see four, five, or six (the most I've seen so far). Yes, it happened in Cambodia when I saw : (from front to back) a baby on daddy's lap while daddy drives, another baby in front of mommy, mommy and the older kids behind her. I kid you not.
The combination of tuk tuks, mopeds, motorcycles and bicycles make for a beautiful dance through the streets of South East Asia. I like to describe it as a kind of fast and dusty version of Swan Lake, where people drive until they might hit someone, forgetting about traffic lights or right of way. There are two rules for crossing the street, don't run and don't stop. I have never seen someone get hurt and I suppose it is because almost everyone knows the rules and they bend and glide their bodies through the humid air with a perfect balance of confidence and humility.
Out here, life happens - it is all on the street, completely in my face and the only thing to do when I think I'm going mad is to laugh because underneath it all, it is a breath of fresh air.
My roommate's name is Poppy, and she looks exactly like her name sounds - short, oompa loompa style, flaming red hair, English bred, and a fantastic mixture of freckles and sheepishly pale white skin that makes me smile. Sometimes I call her my little red popsicle. She entails me with stories of her family, her home, her friends and her experiences. We share our lives with intimate details because the reality is that when we part ways, there will be no obligation to return to one another. There is this unbreakable bond that originates from the simple fact that we have all come to travel, to get away and embrace the bizarre. Traveling is staying present, reckoning with the past, accepting the future.
And then I turned 25 - We celebrated with a drive to and through the Cambodian border, and a surprise dinner party with a Cambodian family complete with cake, a birthday hat and fireworks. The food was phenomenal and never ending; Sometimes local kids came over to practice their English with us- it was a nice change from the incessant 'madam madam madam' I heard everywhere else I went.
We were in Cambodia for one week- a country whose people are as sweet as sunshine and are slowly trying to turn themselves around after the reign and terror of the Khmer Rouge. To date, more than 50% of the population are under 18 and while I have done my best to speak with the local Cambodian crowd at bars or on the beach, it seems that the notion of family is completely upside down. Most children don't have grandparents and while this will change as time goes by, it is important to remember that this country's definition of what we call a family is different beyond comprehension.
And then when we were eating dinner, watching the celebrations for a new moon and water, a massive group of Cambodians began to panic when the bridge they were standing on started to sway. After we returned from dinner, which was one mile from the bridge, hundreds of people were dead.
Today the whole country stood still, paying respects to those who have passed.
We spent the day driving to Vietnam. It was a five hour journey from Cambodia, almost half of it was spent on a rather narrow path carved between two rain forests. Of course I had to go to the bathroom which just made for quite the calming road trip- at one point, a boy came running towards our car and slammed his hands on the hood in a successful effort to nab some money off the driver in order to let us pass- human road blocking at its finest.
When we drive from town to town, I see a few huts off the side of the road and I wonder if the people inside are related or grew up together- It looks like the simpler life, where children manage to amuse themselves for hours on end with a ball or some big banana leaves - their lack of side walks and gates makes waving hello the most natural and easiest thing to do.