From Ants to Elephants

My first weekend here me and the roommies decided to go on a camping adventure, despite the fact that Brooke was really sick and should have been in bed. We went to a place in the mountains about three hours from home. The drive was amazing and beautiful. I saw everything from wild elephants to truck bumpers made out of trees.

About half way to our destination all the water I had been drinking finally got to me. My options were to go on the side of the road or stop at a little shack/house, yeah not really sure what it was. Well not being too skilled at going in the wild I opted to stop at the house. Thankfully my roommate could speak the language and asked if we could use the bathroom. Through the back of the house and damp kitchen floors was a little wooden door...when Brooke opened the door all that went through my head was the psycho theme song...it was a squatty potty. I should have chosen to go in the woods!!! Instantly I had stage fright and after along time of hovering over the hole in the ground I asked Brooke if she could turn some water on somewhere. She turned on the the sink of the ladies kitchen and finally I was able to go. The next challenge was trying not go let it get all over my pants. I was mostly successful.

The squatty potty: place your feet on the wings of the porcelain (if your lucky) oval, squat down and do your business. Then flush with a cup full of water. Mastered by Kelly on July 20, 2007. Thankfully I just had to go number one!

This picture really says it all...Brooke; the always singing, always smiling one. Staci; more mysterious, a little mischievous. And you know me...

So one pit stop down and still 2 hours to go. As we climbed the mountain the temperature got colder and the fog got thicker. It was a narrow and steep road, with at least a dozen intense switch backs. Finally to the top, it was cool and misty, we arrived at our destination, and it was evident by the surroundings we were not going to be ruffing it. The setting was in a little valley surrounded by mountain peaks, flower, bamboo and banzai gardens. We got the keys to our little cabin, six beds a bathroom and a tv.

It was rainy out, but I was antsy and anxious to explore the new place. So I drug my two roommates one of which was still very sick, out in the rain to the flower garden. Then the drizzle turned into a down pour and we were stuck under a beer umbrella until it let up.

Making It Home

The first few days here are somewhat of a blur...going ahead twelve hours can really set a person back. Sounds confusing, but trust me it's rough. In the first days I met a lot of people, saw a lot of things and ate some strange new foods. Unfortunately because of my state of mind I don't remember most of it, but most importantly I finally got to meet my roommates Brooke and Staci. We have been talking through chat and email for several months now, and I knew from all our conversations that we were all going to get along just fine.

Roommate bonding began with a shoe cabinet. Brooke and Staci had purchased a cabinet to set at our front door way to keep all the shoes in (you can't wear shoes inside around here). It probably took several hours longer than it should have to put together, but with a single hand held screwdriver, lots of thinking, and lots of laughing we finally got it all put together. Now for the hard part...me trying to remember to take my shoes off every time I come inside. I am getting better, but I still forget from time to time.

Getting use to the new creatures around here is also another thing I am working on. During the evening time is when this place comes to life and not only the people but also the huge fire ants and lizards. The lizards are apparently a good thing in the house because they eat the fire ants. Between the lizards eating the ants and Staci's insane massacre moments with here\ sandal it's a wonder there are any ants left in the world. So the war goes on every night and by morning you would have never known there were ants, lizards or Staci...all three sleeping away.

I love the prices of everything here, I can eat out for like $2 a meal!!! It's insane! There are all kinds of wonderful fresh fruits. I have been eating bananas, mango, pineapple, and other fruits I can't pronounce. They have these great markets where you can buy all the fresh fruits and vegetables for next to nothing. I guess the price you pay is the smell of the market place...with all the raw meat, along with cooked meat, it makes for very overwhelming smells. Staci says to breath though my mouth, but I would rather not risk tasting it. The cuts of meat here are...well to say the least different. It is not unusual to see a pigs head or cow testacies just sitting in the open with flies adding to the scene. Sounds gross, and I'm not going to lie it is!!! But more than that it's so cool, so new to me, I love it. I am constantly observing the people and my roommates, listening to the conversations and what they do. I never understand what they are saying, and most of the time don't even know what they are doing, but I am learning.

This is a HUGE mango Staci could hardly lift it it was so big.

Six bags and a guitar on my back, I start my journey.

As I took that first step on to the plane leaving Springfield Missouri I thought "here goes nothing." Leaving my home, my family, my friends...going to a place I have only read about, to live with people I have never met. I am a adventure seeking person no doubt about it, but this is just plain crazy.

The first leg of my adventure would be a test of my inexperience, getting around a big airport alone. No big deal...Dallas...a breeze! Getting on to the plane with my guitar and computer bag apparently was too much so I was asked to check one, the stewardess recommended me holding on to my guitar. Ok no problem, I gave here my purple bag with my computer, camera all the important stuff. The flight was a nice four hour flight, I sat between a army solder and an Australian man. Both were very large muscular gentlemen...I felt very small and child like at that moment. They were kind and both had very unique stories to share the entire four hours of the flight. As I got off my plane in LA I waited to retrieve my bag...waited and waited...no bag. I asked the stewardess where my bag was she said oh it will be down at baggage claim. I thought she was confused, I said no no remember I checked it when I got on the plane, so it should be here when I get off the plane. She said oh no we don't do it like that here, you will need to go to baggage claim down stairs and pick it up. My new Australian friend was so kind to stick with me and point me in the right direction to the baggage claim. When I got there I watched bag after bag be dropped off on to the wheel...then the belt stopped and it was just me and no purple bag. My heart sank, and a huge lump swelled in my throat! I drug myself to the always friendly lost baggage office. It was a long line and I had an international flight to catch soon. All I could do is wait...and wait...one by one each person was helped. Finally my turn, I told the man there my situation and that stupidly I had not attached my name to the bag because I had planned on having it with me all the time. His response was shrugged shoulders as he said "sorry?" I said "ok hold on, there has to be something I can do, I am leaving on an international flight in an hour." He said "well wait for the next flight to come from Dallas and see if is on there, that's all I can tell you." I left the lost baggage a very very sad stupid feeling girl. I wanted to call my mom, but my cell phone was also in that bag. I was able to get enough change together to call her from a pay phone, even though it was nearly midnight, I had to talk to someone who cared. I said the words "hi Mom" didn't even escape my mouth before I lost it. She did her best to calm me down, but the sound of concern in her voice didn't convince me it was going to be ok. She said all we can do is talk to the Father about it, in the midst of her talking to the Father my change for the phone call ran out. So I cried and cried, people around me must have thought someone had just died. I knew in my heart the whole time that my Father had not gotten me this far to leave me alone. I got myself back together, and waited for the baggage to arrive from the next flight. As the belt turned and bag after bag fell on to the wheel, finally a familiar bag in the distance. If you ever see a person smiling at baggage claim and clinging to their bags, just smile back, because when you fly getting your luggage is a gamble you take.

So thirty minutes until my international flight leaves and I have to get clear across the other side of the airport, go back though security, exchange my money, but first things first...attach my name to my guitar and purple bag. I booked it to the other side of LAX...running like a crazy person. As I checked in they radioed to hold the gate for me. Up two floors and about a mile of airport walkways, past gate after gate, until the last gate in the entire international airport. Finlay, huffing and puffing I boarded the plain. My mood almost immediately changed as I stepped on to the Thai Airways plane with soft Asian music playing, the stewardess in their traditional Tai dresses and done up hair in chopsticks, bowed and said "Sawadii kha" The next 17 hours of my life were spent, watching lots of movies, eating strange Thai airplane food...I think I had green beans for breakfast.