Day 3 on the Farm

I just worked one of the hardest days of my life, and for the most part, I enjoyed it! Using just a hoe, I tilled through a patch of hard clay, getting it ready for a new planted box. My arms ache, my hands are covered in blisters, and my legs are about as sore as they were after the half-marathon, but I feel like I actually accomplished something. The hard work feels great after spending two weeks in Laos moving about as much as a sloth while indulging in far too many beers, sticky rice, and ice cream. That's not to say however that I'm not going to be ready to leave in 4 days--I'm totally pooped!

The most terribly horrible thing happened today, my iPod broke! That little thing goes everywhere with me, makes long bus rides enjoyable, lulls me to sleep when the frogs and crickets are overpoweringly loud, and I discovered today, makes working on the farm fun. Listening to my half-marathon training play list made 2-hours of swinging a hoe over my head, ripping through brick-like clay absolutely fly by. I really hope I can find a repair place in Bangkok, otherwise I may have to consider buying a new one. I simply cannot travel without it!

Day 2 on the Farm

My second day on the farm was much easier than the first. Today, I primarily weeded through the overgrown vines and shrubs, cutting back just enough to provide some relief to the many suffocating plants. Things sure do grow in the tropics! By lunch time, I had pulled enough overgrown vines and other pesky plants to create a pile as tall as me. By 5pm, that pile had grown 3 fold. There were considerably more clouds in the sky today as compared to yesterday, so the intense afternoon heat that had sweat dripping from every inch of my body, including the tip of my nose, was much more tolerable today. Wilat taught me how to make Tom Yum Kum, a popular sweet and sour seafood soup. Much like a red curry, we used ginger, chilies, lemon grass, and shallots to create the soup's base, and added oysters and prawns for some extra deliciousness! As promised, I took detailed notes so that I can recreate it for you guys once I get home.

While I am enjoying my time here, I am seriously contemplating staying for only 1 week instead of 4. I am expected to work from 7am-5pm, 6 days a week. Now that would be fine if I was getting paid, but while I'm spending next to nothing, my bank account isn't growing either. Working that much, there's no time, let alone energy, to see or do much else. I was hoping working here would allow me to live and work in the community, but I feel very isolated. There's one other worker, but he speaks no English, and Chicka, a WWOOF'er from Japan who's been here 10 days already has the same complaints as me. Plus its winter, so while there's plenty of work to do, it doesn't involve the planting or harvesting of produce, which is what I really was looking forward to. If the hours weren't so long, or if I could have an extra day off each week so that I could take day trips, I think I'd be happy to stay longer. But I'm not traveling to work, I'm here to experience cultures, to go on treks, to ride bikes, to eat great food, and to have a fantastic time. Unfortunately, working here isn't quite helping me accomplish any of that, except maybe the food part! I'll put in a week and then decide, but right now, I am seriously considering cutting my time here short to make room for a stop-over in Burma.

Baan Wasunthara

I arrived early this morning in Chiang Mai after a sleepless 13 hours on an overnight bus from Udon Thani. After hoping off the bus, I caught a sungtao (shared taxi) directly to Baan Wasunthara. Wilat was waiting at the gate to greet me, along with his two dogs Tony and Emmy. His home and land are amazing. Originally from Surat Thani, in southern Thailand, Wilat and his British wife, Lesley, decided to settle down in Northern Thailand after Bangkok got to be too crazy and land costs on the islands skyrocketed. They bought their property 2 years ago, at which point it was an old rice paddy field. No tree, no greenery, just mud surrounded by gorgeous mountain views. They designed a custom built home that epitomizes Asian simplicity and elegance and created a landscape of lilly ponds, an abundance of tropical flora, and Asian inspired sculptures. It's an oasis in the middle of a quiet, traditional farming village and right next door to a monestary. Wilat's current project is to transform 1 hectare of his land into an organic garden. So gar he's got rice, a few varieties of greens, mangoes, papaya, bananas, and chili peppers. And that's where I come in. Lesley and Wilat recently built a set of bungalows complete with kitchenette and bathroom to house WWOOF'ers until their garden is complete. In exchange for a full days work, you get a private room, access to the kitchenette and bath, as well as two home cooked meals, and all the ingredients you could ever possibly need for a do-it-yourself dinner. The work is hard and the sun is intense, but I am really thrilled about getting to learn as much as I can about organic farming. I'd love to have a huge organic garden when I finally go home, and I can't think of a better way to learn. Plus, Wilat is really into cooking and has promised to teach me how to prepare some of his favorite dishes, his homemade yogurt, and his famous sesame seed bread. Wilat and Lesley seem to have exactly what I want at home--so trust me, I'll be taking notes!

Hello Thailand!

I've made it back to Thailand. The grand South East Asian loop is almost finished. I arrived in Udon Thani just after lunch time and headed straight for a bank to exchange money. Turns out they won't take Lao Kip here unfortunately, so I'm stuck with nearly $20 worth of Lao currency! But I was really excited to see that you can take out large sums of money from the ATM's. In Laos, the most amount of money that will be dispensed from an ATM is 700,000 Kip, or just over $70. To make it worse, they stick a $2 fee on every withdrawl, plus whatever my bank at home decides to charge me! Unfortunately, the ATM here in Udon Thani gave me huge bills, bills that few people will actually have change for. So, spotting a large shopping mall, I headed inside to find change. And then I saw it. Dairy Queen. Oreo Blizzards. I had to have one. The blizzard was fantastic, just like at home. Perfect. I devoured that little cup of ice cream while the employees scrambled to find some change. Two birds with one stone...ice cream and change all in one!

So now, I'm waiting at a bus station for a few hours before I catch the overnight bus up to Chiang Mai. I'll be in Chiang Mai for at least the next 3 weeks, primarily working on the organic farm. I have no idea what to expect when I arrive, so its pretty exciting! All I know is that there is another WWOOF'er working on the farm until February 9. I do know however, that I'll get my own room and bathroom and have access to a kitchen so that I can finally do some cooking. As nice as it has been to eat out 3 meals a day for the past 3 months, it sure would be nice to have some home cooked meals.

Goodbye Laos!

The ride back from Vang Vieng to Vientiane was so much fun. Confident in my ne found control of the bike, I let loose a bit and cruised along at a pace that was exhilarating...I couldn't wipe the smile off my face or keep from laughing out loud! Jen had a minor stumble, but was back up on her feet in no time, with only a few minor bumps and scrapes as proof of her fall. We got back to Vientiane in under 4 hours, half the time it took us to get there and enjoyed our last night together over a ceremonial Beer Lao and spring rolls on the Mekong. Today I'm heading down to Thailand where I'll start work at Baan Wasunthara Organic Farm in a few days. Jen and Sam are headed south too, making their way to Cambodia via central and southern Laos. I absolutely fell in love with Laos and am really sad to say goodbye. Two weeks was not enough time. But, there are many many countries still left on my checklist, so I have to keep moving. See you in Thailand.

Tubing in Vang Vieng

Tubing in Vang Vieng, no wonder it's South East Asia's backpackers rite of passage. We woke up to thick, low clouds and cool weather, not ideal by any means for spending all day floating down a cold river. After breakfast, Sam, Jen, and I had conceded to forget tubing and instead spend the day exploring the countryside on our motorbikes. We drove a few kilometers north of town and pulled off the main road when we spotted a small, hand painted sign indicating that there were caves nearby. Following the subsequent signs, we left our bikes at the entrance to a village, an old footbridge that didn't look sturdy enough to handle the passage of 3 motorbikes. The village was swarming with children, most of whom were bathing in the creek flowing through the center of the village. The other children followed us, giggling to the cave. Turns out there was an entrance fee for the cave, so we turned back.

The day's warmth had started to pick up and we each began shedding a few layers. Tubing was starting to sound better and better. The sun tried to peek out from behind the ominous looking clouds, but mostly his attempts were shrouded. Oh, lets just do it, I said to the group. Wwe're here, we have to tube. And so we did. We drove back into town, paid for our giant tractor inner tubes, hopped on the tuk tuk to the starting point, and we were off! Within minutes of splashing into the river, we approached the first bar. Tons of Lao people were trying to persuade us to stop for a drink, bamboo poles in hand ready to pull us to shore, Bob Marley humming from the loud speakers. We kept floating. A small set of rapids, around a bend, and then we see it. Spring Break. Hundreds of bikini-clad, Beer Lao drinking, 20-somethings dancing to bass-bumping American hip hop, swinging from 20 meter high trapezes launching themselves into the river below. Where in the world are we? We stopped at the first bar we came upon, welcomed by a sign claiming Free Jumping, Free Bananas. This is my kind of place.

The people watching was fantastic--hoards of British gap year kids stumbling over each other, drunk and trippin' on god knows what, middle-aged men dancing in the middle of the river trying to reclaim their youth. It was like being transported to the set of MTV Springbreak.

After finishing my beer, I scramble up the ladder to the platform above. Momentarily I stopped to read the bright yellow sign. Jump right, shallow on the left. Oh great. How can I possibly aim when I'm about to jump off a platform holding onto a trapeze that's dangling precariously from a crane barely clutching onto the side of a mountain? Three...two...one says a voice behind me. I'm flying, oh my gosh this is so much fun, I can't believe I'm in Laos! At the peak of the swing's pendulum I let go, falling, falling, falling, until I splashed into the river below. I didn't aim far enough to the right, well I can't say I made any attempts to guide my descent at all, and my toes scraped the river's rocky bottom. You guys have to do it! I shouted.

And so it continued all afternoon. Floating from one bar to the next, drinking beers and watching all of the wild people who I was sharing this experience with make complete fools of themselves. By the time we got back, it was nearly dark and cold. We were starving and couldn't stop talking about devouring a plate of hot, crispy spring rolls. After a wait that seems to drag on into eternity, the spring rolls arrived. They were better than I could have imagined. What a great day! Tubing in Vang Vieng is an absolute must.

What's with the karaoke?!?

I really want to go to sleep, but for the past 3 hours there's been an insanely loud live band playing just a few meters from our window. The keyboard heavy music is accominied by the overzealous, out of key singing of a guy who probably thinks he sounds way better than he actually does. Every few songs he turns the mic over to a woman who's voice is less than harmoic, more along the lines of screaching. The crowd seems to love them though, maybe they are great performers? Or maybe its Asia's obsession with karaoke that's making them so popular!

On the road to Vang Vieng

We set off this morning after a rather rocky start of not being able to find a guesthouse willing to store out bags, not able to find a bike rental shop willing to let us take their bikes outside the city limits, and constant bickering between Jen and Sam over the stupid, little details. But by 10am, we had it all sorted out and were on our way to Vang Vieng, or so we thought. Getting out of Vientiane proved to be the hardest part of the day. Without a decent map to guide us, we relied on a cmpass and street signs to find out way north. While we eventually made it out, it's not exactly the most efficient way of getting around. After 2 hours of riding in a mostly northerly direction, we pulled off the road to ask for directions. Over a funky lemon-lime flavored energy drink and lots of pointing, we figured we were at tleast headed towards Vang Vieng, if not by the most direct route. Back on our bikes and Jen gets run off the road by a mother and her son on a motorbike who come barrelling down the road from seemingly nowhere. Toppled over in the dirt, oil starts spilling from Jen's motorbike leaving a vast puddle of oily muck beneath her. Concerned. we search out a mechanic in hopes of getting what we assume to be a problem, fixed. A few hundred meters and numerous bewildered looks later, Sam finds the mechanic who explains that oil leaks out when motorbikes tip over. Nothing to worry about. Great, another hour lost I think to myself. By this time its nearly 1pm, the time we had anticipated arriving in Vang Vieng, and still we're nowhere near the half-way point. We are rewarded however from this point on with magnificnet rolling, twisty mountain roads. Despite the fact we had no idea where we were, we had a great time riding on those roads. The traffic was minimal and the scenery was great.

We eventually met up with Road 13, the road that leads directly from Vientiane to Vang Vieng. By inadvertantly taking back roads and logging quiet a few extra kilometers we managed to avoid road construction, big trucks, and of course, I'm convinced had a more enjoyable, scenic ride. 8 hours later, we finally made it Vang Vieng, found a decent guest house, and made a bee-line to the nearest restaurant. Having not eaten since breakfast, we were faminshed. It's safe to say that I devoured my bowl of vegetable curry and sticky rice!

First Set of Pictures from Laos

Enjoy!

The Cost of Tourism

Laos is a country where there are few true sights to see. Unlike other South East Asian countries where tourists go for specific reasons, Angkor Wat in Cambodia, the stunning beaches of Southern Thailand, and the fascinating history of Vietnam. Laos doesn't have that draw, but it still manages to attract millions of tourists every year. Laos for many people is the old South East Asia, a place where you can get away from the masses and enjoy life as it was 50 years ago. But all that is changing. With so many tourists coming here, you're almost guaranteed to find Westerners on any rural bus or in any town or village that is listed in a guidebook. Laos being such a small country, its no wonder it difficult to see the true, old Laos. But why is that something that we want? Tour companies boast of home-stays in traditional villages and guided tours to remote villages. But this makes me uncomfortable. Scenic villages and traditional houses are charming to look at, but they are horrible to live in. Pretty girls working in the fields look quaint and colorful on postcards, but a day's backbreaking labor in the sun in barely sufficient to provide them with basic subsistence. How can we go into these villages with our expensive cameras snapping away photos to share with our friends back home just to impress on others how well traveled we are? Look at the exotic places I've been! It makes me really uncomfortable. These poor and marginalized communities are being besieged with the values, images, and materialism of affluent society and have inevitably begun to desire the same symbols of status. What effect does our presence truly have on these communities? Many would argue that it brings money into places where subsistence farming was once the way of life, allowing families to pull themselves out of absolute poverty and to send their children to school. While this is true, I also believe the presence of Westerners has a negative impact as well, one that is much deeper, hidden from the eyes of tourists, but one that is destroying communities.

Everyone has the right to pursue a better, easier life; one in which your children can grow up to be more successful than you. But where do we draw the line? How much culture, tradition, and values is it ok to sacrifice in the name of convenience and household goods like satellite TV and video games? Is it really worth ostracizing your teenage child to the city in hopes of him sending enough money home in order to buy the latest gadgets? Is it ok to keep children home from school to help run the guesthouse and restaurant that caters to the new influx of Westerners on your tiny, remote village? All this is obviously beyond the control of any single person, village, or nation. It's global urbanization that we need to somehow curtail. I'm not sure what the answer is or if there is an answer. Maybe we just need to find a way to live in this new world, a world that is getting smaller and smaller; a world where remote, untouched lands are disappearing. Tread lightly is my best advice.

Luong Prabang to Vientiane

Jen, Sam, Trevor, and I got on the 7:30am bus from Luong Prabang to Vientiane this morning. The bus ride was beautiful, but the winding, hilly roads had a handful of passengers heaving into plastic bags which made for a not so pleasant ride. We only covered about 150km today, but it took us 9 hours. In those 9 hours I was able to finish the Jodi Picoult book I picked up in Muong Ngoi and delve into Sex Slaves, by Louise Brown, a non-fiction account of the sex trade industry across Asia. The author is able to bring to light the social and cultural manifestations of the sex trade industry , while also bring forth coives of some of the worlds most silent and abused women. The book is fascinating.

Trevor decided to stop off in Vang Vieng, about 3 hours north of Vientiane. The rest of us continued on to the capital city. I have run out of pages in my passport, so my primary order of business in Vientiane is to pay a visit to the US embassy to have more pages added. There's an Indian Embassy here as well, so I may be able to take care of the Indian visa while I'm here as well. We'll probably only hang out here long enough to take care of the passport and visa stuff, and then head north for Vang Vieng, where the primary activity is tubing and hanging out by the river. I've been dying to rent a motorbike since arriving in Asia, and now that I've got travel buddies with the same interests, I think now's my chance. So, Jen, Sam, and I are going to bypass the direct bus to Vang Vieng and instead rent motorbikes and take our time enjoying the mountain roads and karst scenery leading to Vang Vieng.

Luong Prabang

Luong Prabang is a really nice town. Set along the banks fo the Mekong, the streets are lined with well-maintained, French-colonial buildings, big trees, colorful flowers, and nearly antique Mercedes Benz left over from the days of the French colony. I spent the day walking through town, visiting numerous Wats, enjoying my fill of fruit shakes and fresh springrolls, and taking care of all of that stuff that you can't do when you're in a remote village, like catching up on the blog, going to the post office, etc. Even here I have errands to do! But I did have the oppotunitity to flex my alturistic tendencies today by dontating blood at the local chapter of the Red Cross. There is a desperate shortage of blood in Laos and many lives are lost in emergeneices everyday because there is not enough donated blood to go around. The staff was eternally grateful and very professional, plus, I found out that my blood type is O-....universal donor. Too bad they won't let me donate blood in the States, I'd be in high demand!

New Pictures!

CHINA

Muong Ngoi to Luong Prabang

We just arrived in Luong Prabang after a full day of boat and tuk tuk travel. The boast ride from Muong Ngoi to Muong Khoi was uneventful except for the great little rapids we got to go down. However, the tuk tuk ride all the way to Luong Prabang was anything but. Once we piled into the back of the pickup, all of the seats were taken, so Sam, Jen, and I claim the center seats. These are wooden seats designed for preschoolers and line the center of the cab. Trevor unfortunately wasn't able to claim a seats quickly enough and was ostracized to the bumper. Yes, he spent 4 hours sitting on the bumper of a tuk tuk. To my left is ayoung woman with her 2 small children, the youngest of which was absolutely terrified of us. He'd take one peak from beyond the secure comfort of the cloth tying him to his mother and start screaming. Hysterical, can't catch your breath sobs. She'd yell at him, pat his bottom, force her lactating breast into his mouth. But nothing could take away his fear of being surrounded by falang, white people. Finally, he wore himself out enough to fall asleep. Next to the woman and her children was a kid in his early 20's from Canada who we'd met in Muong Ngoi. He'd been there for three months, not doing much of anything...I suspect the opium got to him. Opium is a major income generator here and as such many Westerners come to Laos just for that--cheap drugs. This kid validated my suspicions when I asked him how long he was planning on staying Lunong Prabang and his way too laid-back, dazed response was, Oh, I'm just going there to get more money, they I'm going back to Muong Ngoi. Right, ok.

Goodbye Muong Ngoi

I am really going to miss this place. Muong Ngoi is one of those rare treasures that hasn't yet been exploited. With no road and no electricity, the pace of life here is slow and clam, flowing with the river, waking ans sleeping with the sun. It is so quiet, so peaceful, so remote. The only sounds you hear during the days are the shrills of monkeys somewhere in the thick canopy, the chattering of birds, and the soft lull of the river. The night air is filled with frogs and crickets conducting a grand symphony. Next year electricity is scheduled to arrive and shortly after that a road. It won't be long before the shores of the river are lined with bards catering to the Westerners every whim, guest houses piled on top of each other, and hoards of drunk, bikini-clad Americans, Canadians, Europeans, and Australians are floating down the Sam Om in inner tubes. One more paradise lost in the name of progress.

I can't believe January is already 2/3 the way over. Time seems to be absolutely flying by! This is my fourth day in Muong Ngoi and so far my days have consisted of short hikes, paddling up stream in a traditional Lao canoe, swimming in the chilly water, warming my body on the sandy banks, reading to my heart's content, and of course, lazing in the hammock overlooking this beautiful place. I was planning on leaving today for Luong Prabang, feeling a little guilty that I haven't seen more to Laos yet, but I just can't muster up to leave. Maybe tomorrow. Today I'm going to enjoy the market that only comes to the village every 10 days and once it warms up a bit, I think another canoe trip will be on the agneda. As for now, a cup of strong Lao coffee sounds great!

Muong Ngoi

Muong Ngoi is the most beautiful place I think I've seen in Asia. Aside from its beauty created by the fantastically green-blue Nam Om river, perfectly blue skies, and densely tree covered rugged peaks, this one street village has everything you could possibly ever need, from saunas and massage to a pharmacy, to great street food vendors. Plus, despite tourism being the village's primary income generator, there's no feeling of being in a tourist trap. The only access tot he village is by river, so the tourists who make it here are something of a different breed. Not loud, not obnoxious. Just looking for some peace a quiet. The locals are overly friendly and generous, don't hassle you to buy things, and most speak enough English that holding a conversation consisting of more than Hello and Thank You while pointing to what it is that you want to buy is entirely possible. Many people I've met here come planning to spend a day or two and are still stuck after a week. There are tons of hiking and river activities to keep you busy for more than a few days, so I plan to hang here for a few days to enjoy the perfection that I have found.

Sam, Jen, Trevor (another lone traveler that we met) and I are sharing bungalows overlooking the river. Complete with a hammock, stellar views, and located away from most of the other guest houses in the village, I couldn't really ask for a nicer place. Plus we've got a semi-private beach where we've been having nightly bonfires!

Muong Kwa

It seems to be that in Laos there are more people needing rides on buses than there are buses to accommodate. Alarmed by warnings of other travelers, I showed up at the bus station ready to buy a ticket to Muong Kwa at 7am. By the time I showed up, already a queue had formed and the ticked office hadn't even opened. 45 minutes and a whole lot of pushing later, I was able to snag one of the much desired tickets on the first bus to Muong Kwa. There's nothing remarkable about Muong Kwa other than its a nice place to wait for the next boat to Muong Ngoi, my intended destination for a few days of just hanging out. Seems that's what there is to do here in Laos, just hang. Grab a good book, sit back and enjoy the slow place of life around here.

I've met a nice couple, Sam and Jen, from Michigan. It's nice to have some travel buddies again. We checked in to a guesthouse here in Muong Kwa and even better than the great views of the river is the pet monkey. He's just a baby and so fluffy and cute! I feel bad for him though, he's got a look of sadness in his eyes that breaks my heart a little every time I walk by. I've been giving him bananas a couple times a day and that cheers him right up!

China to Laos

I took the first bus from Mengla this morning to the border town of Mohan. The border crossing was so simple and laid back. The border guards on the Chinese side were conversant, joked with me, and were so friendly! Most, if not all borders I've crossed have been incredibly formal and strict. The guards never talk to you, unless out of necessity, rarely look at you other than to confirm that your face matches your passport photo, and push you along like you're a splinter in their foot. It was such a pleasant change! Laos was very much the same. Nice, curious, genuine people. I crossed the border with a man from England, who unfortunately epitomized the loud, obnoxious foreigner stereotype. His words were obscenely loud and condescending and he moved with a "holier than thou" air that was completely revolting. To top it all off, he became so aggravated when a language barrier presented itself, exponentially increasing his volume and frustration. Why he travel to places like China and Laos is beyond me. I'm just glad we weren't traveling in the same direction for long!

After a series of bus and tractor rides, I arrived in Udom Xai, a dusty little town in North-Eastern Laos. I'm just staying here for the night on my way to the Nam Om river. So far, I can't say enough good things about Laos. One of the biggest reasons I wanted to come here was fro the sticky rice. I know it sounds silly, but to be honest that's pretty much all I know about this country. But I'm happy to say that sticky rice was the first food I ate here and it rocked! The food in Laos appears to be much like Thailand, minus the tear provoking, lip searing heat. A funny thing happen today regarding food. I ordered a plate of noodles for dinner and was brought a fork and spoon as my utensils. I attempted to eat the noodles with the fork, but it was so difficult and awkward that I had to ask for chopsticks! I can't believe the use of a fork isn't second nature anymore-- a tell tale sign that I've been in Asia for too long!

The people in Laso have been incredibly friendly and surprisingly, the majority of street signs are in both English and Lao (what a welcomed surprise!) and a good number of people speak some basic English (again, this is great!). There's a feel about South East Asia that I really began to miss in China. Maybe its the warm weather or the bright smiles, I'm not sure. But I sure am happy to be back!

I'm off to Laos!

I was planning on spending the day in Menghan, a small town just south of Jinghong where a many Dai minority people live. But because I'm still battling severe congestion and I'm running over budget, I decided that I'm going to start my journey down to the Laos border rather than spend another day in China. So, today instead I am going to have a nice leisurely morning in Jinghong before catching a bus to Mengla around noon. I was hoping to upload my pictures of China, but can't seem to find an internet cafe where that's possible. So unfortunately you're just going to have to wait a bit longer!

I'm happy to report that I survived the night with the Robby, the Spanish guy, but opted last night to stay in a dorm room with a woman from NYC and another from Israel. Yesterday I treated myself to a massage at the local Blind Massage School, which was worth every penny. I tell ya, sleeping on hard beds, spending countless hours on uncomfortable buses, and carrying a 25 pound pack, really makes for a knot-filled, aching back. Now if I could just kick this cold, I'd be as good as new!

I'm off to enjoy one last cup of Yunnan coffee. See you in Laos!

The Green Wall of China

I just read this in China Daily. Pretty scary.

If you visit Beijing in spring and experience the sand storms that send residents rushing around with plastic bags over their heads, you may not be surprised to hear that the city may one day be swallowed up by the Gobi Desert. Only 150km away, the winds are blowing the sands towards the capital at a rate of 2km a year, with 30m dunes closing in. In their wake, these massive dust storms have left entire towns abandoned and environemtnal refugees numbering in the millions. They've also brought about bizzare weather effects, such as 'black winds' and 'mud rains,' even finding their way across the Pacific to drop grit on Vancouver and bring unreal sunsets to San Francisco.

The problem is overgrazing and deforestation, for every month 200 sq km of arable land in CHina becomes a desert. China's government has pledged $6.8 billion to plant a 'green wall' of millions of trees between Beijing and the sands; at 5700km long, it will be longer than the Great Wall of China. Under the scheme, the government pays farmers to plant trees and is claiming a partial victory despite ongoing problems, such as tree dying, over-irrigation, erosionm and corruption. China's State Forestry Administration states that desertification has slowed from more than 10,400 sq km annually at the end of the last century to about 3000 sq km since 2001. But while the frequency of sandstorms has apparently decreased since the 1990's, their intensity has increased: one storm in 2006 dumped an estimated 330,000 tons of dust on teh captial. In 2006, China agreed to work with neighbouring countries to combast desertification in northeast Asia.

Bus ride from Jiangcheng

The bus ride from Jiangcheng to Jinghong was long, slow, and bumpy. The windows were shaking with such intensity, I thought for sure at least one would shatter. The cool of the early morning departure meant closed windows, more than a few cigarettes, and plenty of spitting. I've already shared the smoking habits of the Chinese, now for the spitting. Spitting is a cultural phenomenon here. Nut just a little spit, but big, back of the throat, loogies. It's not just the men, but the women too. It has something to do with getting sickness and disease out. At one point, the government tried to ban spitting in order to clean-up its image by fining spitters, but a the habit runs far too deep for a little fine to make any difference. So the spitting continues, on the street, in restaurants, on the buses and trains, in the bathroom anywhere. Nowhere is it inappropriate to spit. The man next to me on the bus was the king of spitting--literally every few minutes, dropping a big one of the floor right next to my feet. Sick. Plus, he smelled like he had just crapped his pants, and every time I tried to open the window as he was lighting up a cigarette, he'd motion for me to close it. Luckily he got off the bus when we stopped for lunch!

About 3 hours into the journey, a man and his wife got on the bus with three squealing, squirming bags...pigs. The squealing didn't stop. The frantic squirming just intensified. 15 minutes turned into 30, which turned into an hour. All of a sudden, the bus came to a screeching halt. The pigs had escaped. Running explosively through the bus, desperate for an escape, those poor 3 little pigs ran under the seats, over baggage jumped up onto seats, trampled over people. People were screaming, hands and body parts flailing every which direction try to catch the pigs. But these pigs were determined to break free and redefine their fate as supper. The littlest one jumped, right out the window! He took off down the road and into the hills. The other two weren't so lucky. They were eventually caught and summoned back into their bags, kicking, fighting, squealing the entire time. The squealing got to be so loud that the driver put the pigs in the luggage compartment under the bus. But we could still here them. Those poor pigs. Makes me never want to eat pork again after seeing what they had to go through!

I arrived in Jinghong beyond ready to get off that bus and itching for a nice, hot shower. With Lonely Planet as my guide, I followed the map of the city in the direction of a few mentioned hotels, figuring they'd be easy to find. One again I am mistaken. I walked up and down the streets, got in a cab (who only pretended to know where I wanted to go and then proceeded to ask ME for directions!), got out of the cab, walked down a few more streets, and then ended up close to where I started. Frustrated, I asked the first foreigner I saw if he could point me in the direction of a decent hotel. Sure, sure. He said in a thick Spanish accent. He proceeded to lead me back to the hotel where he was staying, explained to the guy at the front desk that she's my friend from California, she's staying with me. Perplexed, I followed him up to his room. Two beds, that's a good start. I'm not so sure about this though. Can I really trust this guy? But he seemed innocent and genuine enough. And so, I plunked my stuff down and finally got that shower I had been dying for, although it wasn't hot. Cold would have to do.

Geez!

Wow, I really have you guys spoiled! Look at you begging for blog entries after just a few days. I've been out in some really remote parts of southern China and far away from the internet, so I apologize. But, I'm finally in a town again, so read on!

Exploring Jiangcheng

Tromping up the side of an unmarked, very ungroomed hill in search of a nice place to sit, read, and enjoy the scenery, I conceded to heading back down to the bottom when all I found at the top were a few scraggly trees, obstructed views, and not so accommodating seating. Making my way up and then down the hill was a nice trek until I realized that the tall grasses and underbrush that I was tromping upon was likely teaming with unknown creepy crawlies. Hurriedly I made my way down to the pasture where I began, to be greeted by a man in a suit. He came over and talked to me in Chinese, pointing to the hillside, smiling merrily. After a few minutes of happy chatter, he went back to collecting plastic bottles, leaving me to enjoy the bright blue, cloudless sky, and the never ending green hills.

I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the grass, bathing in the warmth of the sun, letting my mind wander through memories, as my ipod played through some of my all-time favorite songs. The Grateful Dead, Jack Johnson, James Taylor, The Weepies, Elvis Costello, Michael Buble, and The Allman Brothers. This is one of my favorite play lists to listen to when I'm in need of contemplation, for wandering thoughts, for dreaming of the future. It reminds me of summers with my dad and car trips with my mom. It gets me dreaming of my future, reminds me of how much I have waiting for me at home, and how much unknown I've yet to discover.

Alone in the pasture, I belted out my favorite lyrics and danced when my feet felt like moving, completely free of the constraints that the presence of others imposes. I spent the entire afternoon indulging in my silly whims to just be. What a funny sight I must have been for the poor villager passing by. But I had an unexpectedly extraordinary day.

The Money Fiasco!

So it turns out that my ATM card doesn't work in either of the 2 ATM's in town and none of the banks exchange US currency. I thought last night that the hotel had accepted my $10 bill, but this morning they shoved it back at me and said no, no, no! At a complete loss of what to do, I headed towards one of the banks, determined to get my money exchanged. One of the boys form the front desk accompanied me and did the talking for me. I just tried to look as desperate as possible. No, try to ATM , was the response he got. But everywhere I try the ATM, I get an Out of Service message. Next bank. Same reception. We can't help you. Now I started worrying. I have plenty of money, but no local currency. No way to pay for my hotel. No way to pay for my bus ticket out of here. And according to my hotel representative, no internet. Now I find that hard to believe, but whatever. How would I pay for it anyways?

It's been a good 45 minutes and I'm in a worse spot than when this whole fiasco began--I've lost hope that I'd be able to exchange money. What the hell do I do?!? I wanted to try calling the customer service number on the back of my debit card, but needed to buy a calling card in order to do so. I wanted to go on the internet to check my pin number, just in case I somehow forgot it, but apparently there's no internet in this entire town.

The boy from the hotel calls his boss and explains the situation. After he hangs up, he turns an looks at me. He doesn't know what to do either. Slowly, heads down in panicked thought, we walk towards the hotel, unsure what else we can do at this point. As we approached the steps of the first bank, we both stop, knowing that this is the only place capable of helping me. Even if its against protocol, I have to convince them to help me, I thought. I walked up to the glass window, placed my $20 bill on the counter and plead with them. They couldn't understand the words that I was saying, but I think they understood the desperation that I wore on my face and the panick in my voice. Grudgingly, the man behind the counter took the bill, and headed for the back room. He emerged a few moments later with a little machine, which he proceeded to plug in, and once it had warmed up, ran my bill through multiple times. Maybe he was checking to see if it was a counterfeit note? I'm not sure. But, after running the bill through a few more times and checking the exchange rate on the internet, he handed me 146 yuan!! If there wasn't a big glass window separating us, I would have leaned over and kissed him!

Full of relief and a new found confidence, we walked back to the hotel, I paid my dues, grabbed my bag, and headed next door to buy a bus ticket to Jinghong. I open up my Lonely Planet guide and point to the Chinese characters next to Jinghong, indicating my desired destination. No, no, is the response I got. Complete with hand waving and head shaking, the overly tired, agitated lady tells me there's only one bus per day and it leaves at 6:30am. You've got to be kidding me! The phrase running wild in my head. You've got to be absolutely kidding me!! Earlier this morning I was told there was a bus at 10:40, and Lonely PLanet says there are multiple buses each day. Great.

So, here I am back at the hotel. I downgraded to a cheaper room so that I'd be able to eat today. Between 2 nights accomodation and the bus ticket, I'm left with just barely enough for a meal or two. This is a pretty grubby town, but seeing as its a good two hours from even a small village, there's got to be some nice places to explore. I guess I'll just walk along the road and head up into the hills and see what I find. Thank goodness it's warm here!

I've arrived in Jiangchen...

The bus to Jiangchen left 2 hours late, and thus arrived well after dark. As such, my ability to go in search of an ATM was obliterated and I had to somehow convince the guesthouse owners to accept my $10 bill. After much skepticism that the US bill was real, that it was in fact really worth 70 yuan, and that I wasn't trying to rip them off, they agreed to let me stay, but only in the most expensive room. At 40 yuan, its not something to cry home about, but I was hoping to pay half that. The room is China's backwater version of a presidential suite. It has a sitting room, free filtered water, clean beds, and satellite TV. Granted the bathroom smells of a backed-up septic tank, there's no hot water, and the rumble of the buses arriving and departing from the station below will likely create for a disruptive nights sleep, but I have nothing to complain about. I was stupid enough to venture into rural China without enough local currency. I just pray I can find an ATM tomorrow morning that will accept my debit card, otherwise there's no telling how long I'll be stuck here!

I'm out of money...

I'm in a bit of a pickle. I'm running really really low on Chinese currency and can't find a bank that wil change US dollars or an ATM that will aceept my card. I'm in a town called Luchen, on my way to Jinghong. Tonight I'm staying in Jiangchen, another 5 hours from here and I pray they have a Bank of China ,an ATM, or tat the guest house will take pity on me and accpet my US dollars. With only 8 yuan left, I barely have enough for dinner, let alone a night at a guesthouse or tomorrows's bus ticket to Jinghong! At least I have some peanuts for the road...

Yuanyang, China

I've spent the past few days in a remote little town called Yuanyang. The tow is know for its spectacular rice terraces and as such, tourists from all over China and the West flock here. Yuanyang was by far the most laid-back place I've visited in China, with only a handful of foreigners and only a single Chinese tour bus. (Typically the tour buses line the streets of popular destinations!)I met Florian on the bus ride from Kunming to Yuanyang and once we arrived, we immediately met Sophie and Paul, and Pauline and Cedric, two couples from France. Florian being Swiss spoke French as well, so I was the odd man out in terms of language. But Sophie quickly came to my rescue as my translator. Born to English parents, but having grown up in France, Sophie was my link to the others in the group. The six of us spent all of yesterday enjoying the rice terraces. From sunrise to sunset we marveled at their beauty and the sheer effort it must have taken to construct them. Hundreds of hillsides have been transformed into agricultural land, the bounty of which feeds most of Southern China. Despite the fact that the terraces were bare, albeit filled with water, their beauty remained. Not quite the green hillsides that are boasted about by the travel companies, but the glistening water-filled terraces brought a beauty all their own.

Thank You for Smoking?

As much as I've enjoyed China, I'm not sure how much longer I can tolerate the smoking. I'd guess that 75% or more of Chinese men smoke. Not just a cigarette or two, but one after the other, constantly. For leisure, they smoke cigarettes out of massive bamboo pipes, thus exponentially increasing the amount of smoke they inhale with each drag. It's terrifying to think of what a stronghold tobacco companies have on China and the public health implications that will ensue. I've spent hundreds of hours on trains and buses in the past 2 weeks, burying my face in my jacket, hoping to somehow filter the tobacco-filled air that I am forced to breath. On an 8 hour bus ride, its not uncommon for a Chinese man to go through a pack or 2 of cigarettes. Multiply that by 15, and you've got a smoke filled coffin! I've been congested and coughing up phlemg since I got here...I suspect its a direct result of the incessant second-hand smoke. It's disgusting and I want nothing more than to get away from it. It hope its not as bad in Laos!

Dali, China

I really like Dali. There's something very comforting about it. Last night I enjoyed a fantastic wood-fired pizza, a movie on the flat screen TV at the guest house, and now, I'm sitting in a coffee shop, next to a wood fire, warming my hands, listening to a great assortment of American music, drinking a cup of pipping hot Yunnan coffee. This is the first time I've let myself splurge on the indulgences of Western comforts, and its really nice. It's like having a little piece of home when you're just in the mood for something that's not China, not Asia, not foreign.

I spent a good part of today on a rented bike, trying to get to Erhai Lake. While I never quite got to my intended destination, I stumbled upon a bustling, colorful Bai market that captured my attention for at least 2 hours. Villagers were selling everything from tobacco to melon seeds and noodles, to meat, jewelery, and wardrobes. I tasted a few of the odd concoctions that were being sold, however I was never quite able to figure out what I was eating. First was a bowl full of giggly, off-white chunks covered in bitter honey. The texture was like an animal product, but it tasted like soy. Two, bird-like pecks at the goop was enough for me. Next,was an egg-shaped ball of stringy, powder covered hair and nuts. It was an assault on my tastebuds and never made it to my throat. So much for being adventurous!

I'm Back!

I'm feeling like a whole new person! After feeling like scum for the past few days, I was literally sick of being sick. I spent my entire time in Lijiang holed-up in my bed--nauseous and cold. I didn't eat for 2 days, it was to cold to shower, and I didn't change my clothes for 4 days. I was feeling so gross! I had been really looking forward to doing a 2-day trek along the Tiger Leaping Gorge, about 60km north of Lijiang, but obviously wasn't feeling up to it. Instead, I opted for a 1-day visit to the middle-section of the Gorge, which was rather disappointing. The Gorge is formed by the great Yangzi river that runs between the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain and the HaBa Snow Mountain. According to legend, a tiger jumped across the river, and thus its name was born. Tiger Leaping Gorge. The river was nothing spectacular, the scenery was nice, and the weather was frigid--it made for a rather unexceptional day. It's another one of those natural attractions that have been turned into an overpriced, over hyped tourist attractions.

I left Lijiang this morning for Dali, another of China's preserved old cities. The old city is sandwiched between the 4000m tall Jade Green Mountains and Erhai Lake. Thankfully there are far fewer Chinese tour groups clogging the quaint cobblestone streets, but still you feel you in a bit of an amusement park. Lonely Planet boasted of the amazing hot showers (24-hours a day!!) and immaculate western toilets at the No. 3 Guest House, so you can be assured that I made a beeline for its front door. The showers really were as good as Lonely Planet made them out to be (or maybe it was the fact that it was my first shower in 4 days that made it so good!) and the sight of an actual toilet, you know the kind you sit on, not the open trough, squatting kind that I've become accustomed to, well that just made me giddy! And to top it all off, my bed has a heating pad and the restaurant's cook claims to make a mean chocolate brownie. What more could I ask for? A personal masseuse for less than $5/hour? Well, they have those too! This couldn't have come at a better time.

Still Sick

I must have eaten something yesterday that really disagreed with me, or I've got something slightly more serious. Around 6pm I was heading to the bus station, wanting to get there before it got too dark. As I was walking down to the station, I started to get a funny feeling in my stomach which wasn't a big deal at first. But by 7pm, I was nauseous and had the chills. Taking respite in the bus, I laid down and tried to get warm with the blanket provided. But I just kept getting colder and colder. My body was shaking uncontrollably to the point that my muscles started to ache. Desperate for warmth, I grabbed a blanket from the seat next to me, wrapped my scarf around my head, and bundled my hands in my gloves. I could feel the warmth building between my skin and the blankets, but the shaking continued, I couldn't get warm on the inside.

The bus started to fill with people and it quickly became apparent that one of the seats was missing its blanket. I said nothing as the driver searched high and low for the missing blanket. He accused locals of stealing the blanket. He searched other buses for the missing blanket. He was becoming frustrated and furious. I pretended to be asleep and unaware of what was going on. There was no way I would give it up. I was simply too cold. Maybe I was being selfish, but in the moment there was no other option.

I woke up smothered by the blankets. I felt like I was suffocating. I frantically tore the blankets off me, pulled and tugged until my head was free of the scarf, my hands free of the gloves. My mouth tasted of metal, I needed water. But there was no water, only the cool condensation from the window to stop the heat. I couldn't escape. And then the shivering, it returned with avengance. Cold, hot, cold, hot. It was the longest night of my life.

The darkness was endless. With each episode I'd look out the window peading with the sun to show its first flimmer. But everytime the stars instead put on a spectacular show. Buckets of stars danced in the sky, their backdrop a midnight black that can only be found in the most remote stretches of the earth.

Kunming, China

The train ride to Kunming was uneventful, although I did get a lot of sleep! I'm feeling much better today despite the fact that I still sound pretty gross. I arrived in Kunming at 12pm today, earlier than I expected and immediately booked an overnight bus ticket to Lijiang. With more than 8 hours to spare, I spent the day walking and eating my way through the city. Although there isn't much to see, I managed to widdle away the hours by wandering aimlessly through the streets. I used to think that I had a good sense of direction, but between the twisty, curving streets of Hanoi, and my inability to read street signs here in China, I've gotten lost more times than I can count in the last 2 weeks. Today was no exception. I had hoped to make it to a Green Lake Park to spend a few hours sitting under the trees reading, but to no avail. Despite my inability to find the park, I did happen upon a pretty cool doughnut shop. Of all things, it was called Dona Doughnuts! Yes, that's right, Dona!! I've only ever met one other person with my name and we happened to be named after the same person, my great-grandmother. But to have a whole doughnut shop named in my honor, well that's pretty cool! of course I had to stop in and enjoy a Dona Iced Coffee and a few Dona Doughnut Holes. I couldn't stop smiling all afternoon thinking of what a coincidence it was to stumble across that little shop. Alright, I'm off to go grab some dinner and then make my way to the bus station before it gets too dark.

I'm Sick

Well, its finally happened. I'm getting sick. I've been battling a sore throat for a few days, and was hoping that by pumping by body full of mandarin oranges, water, and plenty of sleep I might be able to keep it from developing into something more. But today I feel like I'm walking around in a daze, and all I want to do is sleep. But unfortunately I'm in Guilin waiting for a 5pm train to Kunming. With more than 5 hours to spare, I've wandered around the city looking for a place away from all of the people out taking advantage of the New Years Day sales. I found a park to sit in for an hour or so, but the overly sweet shrill of music coming from the children's amusement park nearby didn't do much for my yearning to find a warm, dark place to hole up in. Luckily I spoted a youth hostel across the street from the train station and have taken solace here. The comfy couches, the fire, the low drone of Fleetwood Mac, and the warm drinks were exactly what I needed. I can't wait to sleep on the train. There's nothing I want more right now than to be laying down, dreaming of the comforts of home.

New Years Eve

So much for spending New Years Eve in the tropics! Its absolutely freezing here! The temperature today never got above 9 degrees Celsius, which was really bad for my fingers during a 3-hour bike ride. I tagged along on a ride that Dingo was leading for a family from New York. It was so fun to ride through the villages, across rivers, and amongst the mountains. But the roads were busy with other tourists and it was an obviously well-worn route as the women were selling all sorts of Chinese trinkets, kids so accustomed to tourists didn't even look up as we rode through. But the scenic countryside was well worth the brutality of the bitter cold!

I spent the evening with Dingo and his girlfriend, warming our hands over the fire in his shop, enjoying a fish hot pot for dinner, and strolling down the festive, packed streets of Yangshuo eating more than my fill of my new favorite sweet treat. I don't know what its called or what its even made out of, but its fantastic! The goopey, blackish-blue porridge is served warm with your choice of assorted toppings. It's the perfect way to warm your insides during a cold winter night.

I was supposed to ring in the New Year at China Climb with Dingo and his friends, but after a multitude of confusing directions, 45-minutes of walking up and own the streets of Yangshuo, I gave up, bought myself a beer and watched Beijing's New Year's Eve celebration on TV from the comfort of my cozy bed. Plus, I had a great view of the fireworks from my window. It turned out to be a great night. Happy New Year!