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Published: February 20th 2010
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Well I've been feeling like this blog needs a wrap-up now that we've been home in snowy Colorado for a couple of weeks. Some last thoughts and observations:
If you find yourself traveling to Thailand, while in Bangkok’s airport take a moment and marvel at the number of garbage cans that are
everywhere. On your way
into the country you won’t notice anything out of the ordinary but on your way out somehow the same airport has been transformed into a wonderland of trash bins. Thailand seems to have all but outlawed garbage cans on its streets and at its attractions…you spend half your days looking for a place to throw your garbage and subsequently stop buying ice cream at 7-11s because an ice cream wrapper is a wretched thing to carry around.
There was a funny moment while in Chiang Mai when we were in the Sunday walking street food vendor area, the whole place is just teeming with people and when 6 o’clock chimed the loud speaker came on (they really love their pole-mounted loud speakers there) and out belted the national anthem right on schedule. We had been told about this tradition at some point so
a tidy utility pole in Chiang Mai
no wonder the internet is always down we knew what was going on but while we were standing there, as it was getting revved up, in walked two Europeans who suddenly found themselves in a Twilight Zone episode. They had just been on a busy street full of happy walking talking people, turned the corner and walked into a scene where everyone was standing stock still, arms at their sides, totally silent. The looks on their faces was priceless and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
While visiting Umong monastery, a lovely quiet wooded place on the outskirts of Chiang Mai we were given a pamphlet describing the day of a monk there. It basically went like this: Wake up at 4am. Meditate. Pray. Eat. Rest. Meditate. Collect Alms. Rest. Meditate. Eat. Pray. Sleep. Other than the waking up at 4am bit it didn't sound too bad. But after looking around I noticed that the young monks seem to have another line item in their day. Do lots of work around the temple: scrub floors, paint walls, shine up the chedis. All Buddhist men, from what I understand, have to do a monk stint -not all of them make it a career of course but
it means that despite the exotic looking robes they're just men, some with tattoos, some with an affinity for remote controlled air planes, some plugged into ipods or shopping for the latest in high-tech gear. I missed out on an opportunity to do a Monk Chat and I regret that. At certain temples they make themselves available to tourists to answer whatever stupid questions you might have about being a monk and Buddhism. We passed by a Monk Chat in progress but all of the monks were taken at that moment and I must have been hot or tired or aggravated or something because we didn't pursue it. What a shame. Sometimes it's hard to think outside of your current state of mind. Especially for someone who has perfected the art of perfectly grumpy moments.
After surviving Bangkok for 24 hours we started the long journey home. Coming back there is a lovely 160mph tailwind at 40,000' that carries one 4 hours faster through the space-time continuum that separates Taipei from San Fran. Not only was the jail sentence lighter, the plane was half empty, Todd requested (and scored) bulkhead seating (about 7' of legroom instead of eating your
knees) and there was free wine flowing every 15 seconds or so. Not that I needed that with my trusty Ambien which I took with the timing of a seasoned veteran the second time around). So when I came out of my drug-induced stupor I found out with irritation that there wasn't even enough time to watch the movie I had been planning to enjoy. How annoying! Stupid 10 hour instead of 14 hour flight. How the hell are you supposed to get anything done in a mere 10 hours?
Well that flight followed the three hour flight from Bangkok and preceded the three hour flight back to SLC. We had decided that unless we landed and were unconscious with stupidity we'd hop in the truck and start home. I mean, why not when your plane lands at midnight? The six-hour drive would put us home at about 6am, just in time to get Maisy dressed and on the bus in time for school. Great plan. We were doing just fine for about an hour when the first of the pea soup fog encased the truck in a vertigo-inducing delirium. That was fun as we inched along at 10mph.
grilled squid on a stick
a yummy appetizer before a big bowl of fish stomach soup We looked back on the fog fondly when the snowstorm hit a little further down the road. Weee! Blinding snowstorm AND fog! That sucked. But finally we broke through the other side of it all and got the truck back up to a respectable speed. I was hallucinating by the time we made the turn onto 491 at Monticello. I must have been because all I could see as the ever so slowly emerging gift of daylight revealed the world around us were 15' snow banks lining the town of Monticello. I still don't know if that was real or not. I'm told it was. Dove Creek, Pleasantview, Cahone, each became a quantifiable measurement of how much more focusing on the road I had to do. Finally the last turn, a strand of drool dangling from my slack jaw, neurologically damaged but alive....and home. Warm girls in my arms, the incredible Grandma Holly steering the ship flawlessly, great friends acting as linebackers....so lucky so lucky. What a great trip. We're terribly infected now with the travel bug. We have about 100 years of traveling to fit into too little time. Patagonia, western China and Tibet, New Zealand, Peru, all of
a spider as big as Todd's hand
happy to have seen this thing before walking through it's face-high web Europe...they're all high on the list. With a little luck we'll be back out there exploring the great big beautiful world before we know it!
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