"Sometimes the best place to find a helping hand is at the end of your arm."

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July 5, 2010

Sasha
Today we hiked though the jungle to a cave. We woke up for breakfast at 7ish and after an hour long bus ride and an hour long boat ride we arrived at "lunch." Lunch was at a dock where we were able to jump off to go swimming. Then they served us a "typical Thai meal" which consisted of a fried fish about a foot long, rice, sweet and sour soup, chicken bits and vegetables. It was all on a raft made of bamboo and one had to walk carefully around the "dock" as to not fall through.

The scenery on the trek was absolutely stunning - but mostly I looked at the ground to make sure I knew what to step, climb over, and avoid so I feel like I missed a lot of it. Because this area has never been touched glaciers, its in it's most natural form; extremely tall hills that are all completely covered in greenery surrounding us totally. This area is allegedly older than the Amazon basin.I was the only one who wore my flip flops - and I love my reefers! They gave me great grip, and every time we waded through a river all the mud on me got washed away. I was carrying water bottles for my mom and I (that we never drank) the whole time though, so I didn't have my hands to balance which was pretty tricky. But I didn't fall really, except sliding in mud a few times, so I consider myself lucky. I did get a few leech bites, but after I flicked them at all I didn't even feel them. My left flip flop did break when I slid once, the part between the toes came out, so I had to walk all the rest of the way careful to keep my foot in the shoe. I love these shoes though so I hope I can find a shoe guy to sew them in. The same part broke on my mom's in Bangkok and this guy just fixed it right up for her - 20 bhatt, which is about 66 cents.

The cave was really really cool. Every other person wore a head light and we had to creep in this small hole, past a waterfall. When we walked in it reminded me of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie when they go into a cave... There were no bats, thank god, but there were toads, and spiders.

Every 17 years the cicadas come out (in the US it is only 8 years, go figure). The babies live underground, then rise for two weeks and then mate, and afterward the female promptly kills the male.There are rubber trees all around the forest from Brazil that the British brought. Along with palm oil and petroleum these are their major industries.They have a huge flower called Raffles after the founder of Singapore who worked for the British East Indian Company. It blooms in May and June and stinks of rotten meat to attract flies. It's about three feet in diameter and is legendary here.

Pennelope
Khao Sok Lake and Sasha is wearing the shirt that I bought when her father and I were in Yangshoo, China back in the 80s. How strange to see these clothes living a new life. Almost like a reincarnated memory, my daughter, my double. The childhood fantasy I clung to since I was 12 years old; making a list of my kids names so I wouldn't forget, so I would be ready to bestow such an important homage, their names. So much apart of one's identity, it had to be perfect. Sasha's name was always at the top of the list. My youthful footsteps that so long ago meandered the streets of Yangshoo full of delight with her father and awe at all that had yet to be lived. I see my ghost, or better my spirit, super-imposed on her body, her life, her identity so different than my own. So much is to be unfolded, revealed, and lived. It is almost in the vision of that shirt that I too wore in so many photos that represents youth, innocence, hope, and the illusive clean slate of opportunity. I forget and am reminded of the barriers of youth; the perspective that 75 is old and that being a senior citizen seems musty and ancient to her yet, it seems something just out of my grasp. A gasp at a longed for opportunity to come and not so very far away if I am lucky.

The synchronicity of events of our two lives sandwiched by different memories and "paninni-ed" together, melded into one new thing. She comes from me, my dreams, my hopes. She exists autonomous in this ageless place who's rocky cliffs have existed always. Our tiny long-tailed boat passes over the lake, same as countless tourists before us. I feel the history unknown, watching us. And from above the gulf of where we are going and what will be, the timelessness of this geography brings out the recognition of our human immorality. These memories of mine, of my youth, my beginnings, remind me how little we can convey. How limited is my understanding of my parents and grandparents. I wonder at my callousness and indifference and lost opportunity.Then I breathe. I know I'm not unique. It doesn't really matter at all. Just as it seems impossible to capture a moment lived now, to translate the abundance of smells, the transition of time and place, I do not at all feel capable of bringing into words my past. In part because I myself feel strangely cut off, amnesiac, about my own life - which I guess is no surprise as without photos our history falls into that fuzzy foggy blur zone. This is why our family's history is so well documented - images to trigger memories.

I wonder how much this reverie on mortality reflects the absence of my parents, the recognition that the torch has been passed. I am now the eldest generation. I wonder if in part it reflects the "coming of age" of my children and thus being marginalized by youth. Then again it is the reality of being unexpectedly "set free" and the need to reinvent myself, sort out a new identity of who I want to be and the reality that is reconfigured in the mirror and so limitedly reflects who I am. The youthful innocence of choices once again descends on this aging body. Where will it lead me? Am I to believe in destiny after all?

It all feels very zen. I stop, look at these thoughts, hold them to the light, let them weigh in, and let them go. Hopefully, leaving the calm of a meditative space behind. Hopefully finding peace, if not enlightenment.

Crafting a new life with boldness and intrepitude. With blind fingers outstretched, feeling for the perimeters and encountering a vacuous space. Never one to hesitate, I falter. How far to push? How much to let it all ride? Knowing that the rules for one don't necessarily translate. Though I can wonder, "How can you accept that?" Why does it not infuriate you? Is it callousness or apathy that enables this double standard of how we judge people? Do we all just choose our battles? lower our expectations? Revel in our safety and comfort of the guaranteed maternal watchful eye? The vigilance that can be counted on? Double standard, unfair. You betcha! But perhaps so it is.

About Shaun
Shaun's group consists of three guys and four girls. We met one at the airport, a really nice guy who's family comes from Nigeria and with whom Shaun seemed to bond with immediately. And at 6am that's saying heaps. There are also kids from Chile, Israel and Mexico, a diverse group. Lia, the groups leader, was a Barnard grad from NJ. she's spent a lot of time in Guatemala so Shaun no doubt has a lot to talk about with her.

The first days were spent in Mexico city, visiting the museum of anthropology, the "zocalo" (main square), the cathedral, frida khalo museum, and the pyramids of Teotihuacou (where it rained and reminded Shaun of our visit to Tikal years ago.) supposedly they went to see the ballet folkorico and had discussions about Mexican culture. I'll have to take that last part on faith, Shaun did report on the pickup game they played in the park with the locals.

Cordoba is home to 135,000 people and was founded by the Spanish in the 1600s. The economy centers around ranching and agriculture. There are snow capped peaks in the distance and hiking trails through the coffee fields. This summer seems to be proof that his astrological forecast is true. Last summer when we were in sri Lanka and went to get our palms read, the reader had little interest in telling us about our lives and kept referring to our son/brother and his charismatic leadership abilities.

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Comments

[lyn familant]

feel like I am with you all
Today recieved entries through July 5 (by the way, I am receiving them twice...maybe I am listed with two emails; if so, you only need [e-mail]). I love reading about your adventures, especailly in the two, very disticnt and different voices. I learn from Sasha about the day-to-day, which is fascinating, and from Penny, I feel like I'm on a spiritual journey. You are both beautiful and compelling writers. Can't wait to hear more.