Family unity is often seen as a key characteristic of Latino families, as with many other cultures. I have been struggling with the challenge many individuals undergo when they are troubled with coming out to their families as Latinos. Generally being brought up in an environment that values parents (especially mothers), cousins, siblings, gatherings every weekend with abundance of food and good energy. An environment that instills camaraderie, togetherness and unity. Where you are likely to meet a cousin from your mom's third cousin from the motherland that you end up keeping in touch with and when you see them (every 5-7 years) after having met once, it's like it was yesterday. An environment where it is common to have 30 aunts and uncles, 40 first cousins and many many others that you call "cousins". This is what I have known for the last 29 years of my life.
It is this same close-knit environment that often turns down accepting difference of preference in sexuality. Well understood that it is often times due to the overwhelming message that is delivered by the catholic church. But when it comes down to it, its family. Day in and day out, these individuals that lie in the shadows of shame (and the closet) and are not able to be "real" with those they have known to love and care for. These are the same people that you were brought up with. Same people that have succeeded to be whatever they are. Same people with the same values and morals. And if they are anything like me, they are sometimes scared to be real even with those they love most.
I am excited to see that in recent days, policy has shifted to be more accepting of the diversity that the United States is meant to be based on. In the same way that immigrants were seen as outsiders and in many instances treated as second class citizens throughout our nations history, LGBT individuals are enduring similar scrutiny. I commend the twenty-two organisations that declared their support for the "Familia es Familia" campaign that was launched this past weekend at the National Council of La Raza's Annual Convention in Las Vegas, in hopes of educating Hispanics about LGBT issues and bring more awareness and tolerance of LGBT Americans. (Article is linked below)
Cheers to progress. Cierra los ojos y abre tu corazon.
In a recent conversation, this idea of being privileged as a Mexican-American was brought up. This concept was news to me. In short it is the same rhetoric as White privilege or Male privilege, but solely within your "own kind". The idea goes something like this: As a child of Mexican decent, and/or of immigrant parents, there is the idea that since some immigrants have worked their way up in the socioeconomic totem pole, those individuals have had the fortune to lead more "comfortable" lives compared to some others with similar roots. I think it goes without saying that if you work hard, your work will pay off. The same exists in any race or culture throughout the U.S.A, and abroad. This idea of "your family is better off than mine and you enjoyed comforts that I did not, henceforth I am more marginalized than you are, so I win" is a little off beat. At least to me.
I can see how this conversation might feel or sound okay, but without a doubt -even within like sub-cultures- there are going to be the haves and the have nots. Some people born in to it, some people work their way to it, and others.. win the lottery... My parents, born in small agricultural towns in rural Jalisco, Mexico, immigrated to the U.S.A in their early teens, came to work in the service and agricultural sector, mainly because they needed to send back cold hard cash for their siblings upbringing in Mexico. They have been home owners since the late-70's and were small business owners for over years. This was all due to their one goal in mind: Gotta make some money to support family. That was me. Times throughout my life we had a cleaning lady, we had catered parties, we had cars when we were able to drive... but it wasn't without sacrifice. Every bit of earnings my parents had was so that their children were put in a better place than they were and not have to work as hard to make it later in life. Higher education was a given for me. Both of my sisters chose alternate paths to higher ed as life happened. I was brought up with the mind-set to be independent and be a dreamer. I still am. I got 2 B.A.s and an M.A. I have traveled many places around the world. I have many many friends. This has all made me all that more humble and grounded. I'm not one to flaunt, rather share my experiences and hope that others can grow with me. All this coming back to me being a child of two Mexican immigrant parents. I have the stories of my immediate and extended family to give me a solid base to know where my roots are. Their personal stories I have used as motivation to keep my flight path going (although many times its aimless). I am frequently told by my parents, aunts and uncles and late-grandparents, that they are proud of my accomplishments. I have reason to believe that it's not just me they are proud of, but it is also them recognizing that their hard work has paid off. I am lucky to be in the place that I am. I acknowledge that and I hope to pay it forward with others that cross my path as my life goes on. After all I am a piscean.
I encourage others that may have thought anything along the lines of "your family is better off than mine and you enjoyed comforts that I did not, henceforth I am more marginalized than you are, so I win
You go to a store to get a new pair of shoes. This particular brand if shoe has their sizing off a bit so you ask for the next size up. Whereas every pair of shoes you own has always been the size you are used to and comfortable with, you take that risk and allow yourself the comfort of a fitted shoe with this new brand and it looks damn good. SOLD!
In the same way, why do so many of us go day in and day out feeling discomfort with letting our true selves and entire souls fill our own skin? I for one am guilty and know that many times it has been the social pressures to act a particular way or be a certain person that deep down inside doesn't "fit" right. If we were seen walking with shoes that were size 14 by we really wore 8.... Someone might say something- or we would plainly just not wear them. When I was a kid I would stuff socks into the front of my dads shoes so I can wear them and feel like an adult and bigger than I am- but I was a kid.
In the last few years I have made a consorted effort to fill my skin with my entire soul and true self. Although I'm not fully there, I have come a long way. BUT- it feels good to be authentic. If even for the self gratification of knowing that Im showing my true colors and if someone or something has a problem with that- oh well.... It's what I've got to offer. I have found that I am able to act this way more so when I am traveling and out of my own normal bubble. Now it's time to make it regular practice.
Make an effort, fill your shoes, fill your skin, let it be true. It feels much better at the end of the day.
I am currently unemployed. Not the most ideal situation as society sees it. Americans should have a solid job with steady income and be responsible. I agree. Not just Americans but everyone that is able.
It's been almost 4 months now.... and to be honest- I've only sorta been trying. What I have been doing 110% is figuring my own shit out from the 30.000' level. As my previous blog post will demonstrate- I went and saw things, in Asia. I had a real experience outside of my own reality. I came back for the month of February sorted a few things out, started putting feelers out for the job market, was present for the birth of my new nephew Brayden Xavier, celebrated my own birthday, got certified for scuba diving and took off again.
Brayden Xavier Willet. Hungry, as usual.
During the month of March I flew standby to Washington D.C. and met up with my good friend Laura from Santa Barbara who was there for business- that meant free accommodation at a nice hotel and good company. We did touristy things and then after 3 nights we took a cheap bus (Check out Mega Bus for your bus travel needs around the U.S.A) to New York City. Summation Dance, my good friend Sumi Clements' modern dance company (along with Taryn Vander Hoop) was going to be performing their 2nd annual full length evening performance... I've not missed many of Sumi's shows since college and I was able to make this one also. The way these women move is just A-mazing. Make you think their limbs are all going to fall off, or better yet they sorta do fall off and the limbs keep doing the moves on their own. This was on a Saturday evening and that night was party time... especially since Erin Martinez and Kirstie Maryott were also there. Erin and I agreed that we would watch the sun rise from one of the Mahattan shores that day... well almost. We sorta watched it while we slept in a cab to Brooklyn to drop us off at our doorstep for that night.
Summation Dance with their extremities.
After New York came some much needed family time. I get it all the time in Anaheim, but its always the special occasion type of family time where everyone is somewhere for something special.. wedding, holiday, organized party as opposed to just hanging out. Granted this time it was for my cousin Edgar's graduation from Ohio State, but the subsequent week of hangout time was unplanned... it just happened. I went to Columbus, Ohio and it was great. All the guy cousins from my mom's side of the family (sans deux) got to hang out for the larger part of a week. Hikes, jogs, beers, meals, movies, t.v., lounging, chatting, scotch drinking... all of it. Like we were kids again at grama's house, but now with developed opinions, a bit of distance since they moved to Columbus, at times some b.o., and just pure good energy to pass time on. It was a house of brothers who just did whatever the day encouraged them to do. I hope that cousin time will happen more often as we continue to grow older. Our family has always celebrated and cherished time together (ALLLLLL of the Morenos... there are lots!) to the point where reasons to get together are made up... "Its the last day of the month!"
The Cousins. Everyone worked out that day.
Cousin time did not end there. We all took a roadtrip up to Cleveland to see where cousin Pedro was spending his time while a resident at Case Western University Hospital. Lovely town. Spread out. Very green at the time. Mikey, Pedro and I all decided to take off for Chicago after a few days in Cleveland. I already had a trip planned there as I was having a grad school reunion for all my classmates from Roehampton University in London. Everyone was all over the U.S. so Chicago was a good mid-way point. My spontaneous adventure never ceased to let me down. Chicago continued to prove a good time, except it was the only time the weather became inclement and by that I mean wet and colder than 65 degrees. Seeing all the MAISies (nickname for my masters cohort) was great. What surprised me a bit is that none of us are really doing anything related to the M.A. we studied which is International Service via service-learning curriculum. Not that its a bad thing, but just something that I noted- must have been that most of us returned to the U.S. right about when the economy went awry. After just over 3 weeks of bouncing around the east coast and mid west, I was ready to return home to Santa Barbara and find my feet on solid ground again... not to mention my own bed.
Reminiscing being on the tube and saying "cheers" in London.
After a couple weeks of being back home this idea of stepping in and out of my own reality is something that "flashed" before me. I escaped the fact that I was recently unemployed to Thailand, although much needed and very much appreciated. I came back and took off again. I scoped out some work, I visited cities that I may consider moving to in the future, but I am more than anything allowing myself to have a break and really have an opportunity to choose my own adventure. This adventure I am calling life. Many days in the last few months I have felt guilty. People will approach me and comment on seldom meeting an individual that is unemployed and in equally as bad a financial hardship as I am, but usually they are not loving life and wearing a smile. I am. I made that a conscious decision from the get go. I am not trying to screw anyone of anything, but this is my reality as it stands right now. Figure out what my assets are as a person, as a professional, as an individual on this earth, as a member of this community, as a friend, as a man and as every other label that I have going for me, because right now EVERYTHING is an asset.
I want the right job. One that I love and one that loves me back. I also want to be able to apply my training and degrees to whatever extent possible. All the while, I am looking to do a career shift into medicine. When it rains it pours and right now I am flooded, and I have not even started my 100% job hunt... but I have continued my 110% living life to the fullest. I frequently say that if I am to die tomorrow- I am good. I owe that to absolutely every person that I have come across because the way I see my life is through the relationships that I have built over the last nearly 30 years. It is through those that I will continue to thrive. So to anyone who reads this, thank you for the impact you've had on me and wherever I go next. For those that don't read this, well I hope I can express the same gratitude.
Cheers.
Showing some LOVE from the top of Figueroa Mountain Santa Barbara County
I made it to Myanmar. I was granted my visa after my little scheme in Bangkok and I had to go. Just to see. Sadly I had only allowed myself a few nights and it would not be enough time to leave Yangon (the capital). I had a quick overnight layover in Bangkok, between flying from Saigon to Yangon. The world does not cease to get smaller. I was on my way out of my hostel to grab a quick bite and I run into a guy, Ken McKenna, walking up the stairs. We get to talking and after the typical "where are you from?" conversation our worlds collide when we discover that we are both Santa Barbarians. Whoa! I had just ran into the first Americans during my travels and now a neighbor. It felt nice, comforting. We discussed potentially sharing accommodation in Yangon, but I ended up finding a spot last minute as many places we're booked up.
Arriving in Myanmar (or as many still call it: Burma) the guest house sent a cab for me. It was the first time I arrive at an airport and a stranger had a sign with "Mister Javier Moreno" written on it- waiting for me. We head onto the long and windy road leading towards the center of town and I'm silently gazing out the window attempting to identify unique traits of this city...this country. A few things I noticed: loads of parks and open space, many people waking on these long windy roads, everyone is wearing skirts (aka longyis), as we get closer to the center town, There are more and more electronic shops- a lot of them. All things noted but no answers for why.
As soon as I check in to my place I unpack some things and head out for a walk. My wounds from the scooter accident were still speaking to me and I had to be cautious of my bandages falling off. Going for my walk around town started off by trying to exchange money. You can use US dollars or kyat, the Myanmar currency. I brought some dollars I had exchanged in Bangkok and I was ready to get some kyat. Slight problem: because of how anal the banks are (per the government) they only accept brand new very crisp dollars... No wrinkle, no tear, no discoloration, no nothin on the dollar. Bangkok had given me 10-$10 bills that were taped, wrinkled, older models, etc. and the exchange office I went to, after thoroughly examining all the bills- might as well have used a magnifying glass- declined my request for kyat. Fortunately for me I had a couple VERY crisp Benjamin's back at the hotel so I resolved my problem, but I found this process fascinating. I told them "these are real... it works in the U.S..." but they still wanted freshly ironed and starched notes.
The city of Yangon was very quiet, compared to other capital cities that I have visited around the world. Many people walking, many electronic stores and many things closing at 8 p.m.... strange when that was when my evening walk had begun on the first night. I went around trying to look for these coveted tea houses that were open late night and have a cup of burmese tea and meet some people, if I could even communicate with them. After walking around for about an hour, I found myself at a small corner evening eatery that served tea, nothing like the high energy spot that I found earlier at the market. I ordered my tea and the young boy runs across to a neighboring stand to fetch the tea.... hmmm. I get my cup of B-tea and the pot of tea to wash it down. This tea is SO tasty, as it had been. The burmese tea is a thicker milk based tea (not ideal for us lactose, but when in rome...) and then you wash it down and sip for as long as you want, a pot of regular tea. I sat at the day market for about 2 hours just sitting and watching. This night however, I had some visitors- even though I was the only guest at this fine road side dining spot. The table I chose was a small 2 foot plastic table with small plastic chairs... kinda like preschool... this was actually the case for most road side eateries. This particular table on this night was right next to a small dumpster and at one glance I spot some movement. I carry on with my tea and can hold back but look over again to find a few large rats about 6 feet from me. these were no ordinary rats, these were the KING of them at about 10" long body without tail and I would say 5" diameter of a body. i was a little thrown off and didnt want to spazz, so I just continued sipping on my tea, in hopes that this was normal--- and it was so I carried on. drank the rest of my tea and about 30 minutes later, I was heading back up the road. I was curious as to sanitation by this point, but also realized that this didn't necessarily seem to pose a problem for people.
My little wounds continued to be worrisome, so I decided that I would head back to Bangkok early and get to the hospital, after all some of the best hospitals in the world are in Bangkok. I was sad to leave Myanmar after only 2 days, but I also felt limited and restricted to Yangon, which at the end of it I was neither here nor there on it... I wanted to venture out of the city and see nature. I couldn't... next time. I WILL be back.
When I arrived to Vietnam I was scared. I was alone and did not know how to speak anything in Vietnamese except for "phô", a delicious noodle dish. Arrivng at the international terminal of Ho Chi Minh City (aka: Saigon / HCMC) I had no dong (Vietnamese currency) nor US dollars. Being that I needed to pay for my visa, I wasn't sure what would result since there was no ATM in immigration area. Upon being called up for my visa, I mentioned to the stern looking man behind the thick glass window and he said they would gladly accept bhat. Safe!
I shared a cab with another American guy (Joe) from the bay area of California into town as I was trying to make an 11pm train to Danang and by this time it was about 1015 pm. I arrived at Ga Sai Gon (train station) with 10 minutes to spare. It was just my luck though as Tet was in full effect and Vietnamese nationals were ALL traveling too! There were no seats for me (even after a woman attempted to scam me by purchasing a local train ticket and trying to pay off the train agents to let me on and give them their cut too) Not knowing where i was in town since I had not looked Into a travel guide book of Vietnam much, I found myself seeking some sort of comfort. This is when my Vietnamese habit started... cigarettes. Everyone was smoking. I felt like I was smoking by way of second hand smoke, so I bought a pack, sat down outside the train station and lit up a cigarette.
That night I found my way to a small hotel nearby the train station where I accessed the internet and downloaded vietnamese language apps, read the wikitravel guide for HCMC and reaearched where i would go the next day. Because of so much travel going on, the sounds of the millions of motorbikes in Saigon were ever present. Then it was off to sleep.
I cab to the backpacker area in the morning and find a travel agency that books my trip to Phu Quoc, an island off the south coast of Vietnam but closer to the Camvodia coastline. Apparently a point of contention between the countries. Afterall I absolutely wanted to go to another beach while in Asia! This trip would result in a 16 hour commute including a 6 hour bus ride where the music was non- stop in celebration of tet, a few hours sleep at a small guest house and a couple hour boat ride, until finally I arrive on the lovely island of Phu Quoc.
About the commute to the island- due to the Chinese new year celebration the entire country is in gift giving mode. Every person, motorbike, taxi, bus, boat, etc was loaded with gifts. This included roosters in straw bags, 6' trees, oversized stuffed animals, sweets, food and really anything else you can think of. Imagine this: 2 adults riding a motorbike in the busy busy streets of Saigon. The driver maneuvering the traffic (which I chaos, yet organized) the passenger holding on to a box about 3'x3'x3 and a small tree strapped to the back of the motorbike. Impressive how they do it.
Anyway- once settled in I book a night fishing trip in hopes of catching some squid and some fish for dinner: whatever we catch we grill and eat. I connected with Juliane from Austria on the boat ride over to the island (lovely girl who was also traveling alone) and she also joined the adventure out to sea. After an hour at sea the group of 5 on the fishing trip had caught a handful of small red snapper. I proudly contributed one fish about 6" long.... Never been lucky with the fishing energy. Next was squid... NO ONE caught any. Must have been a bad day for the critters or the lights on our boat were not bright enough?
The next day it was motorbike time to enable an exploring of the island. Juliane shared a motorbike with me and we joined a French couple: Sophie and Benoit who were both absolutely friendly- and I got to listen to some French every now and again. After grabbing a few bhan mi we take off, but don't get too far. Given our location in the central part o the island, and trying to get to the north, we have to cross the "busy" area of town which has a few confusing roads. After a couple wrong turns we end up on a dirt road and are greeted by about 5 boys between 7-12 who were all on 2 bikes. They ask where we are going and assure us they know the way: it's just 1 km away. After about 20 minutes of following theae boys and continued reassurance that it was just "1km away", (to the point we ended up on a small dirt road about 3 feet wide winding through thicker and thicker foliage) we stop and ask another man who wasn't very convincing (by the smirk on his face when telling us that the kids were correct). Since my motorbike was pretty close to empty, we decided that this was a good place to turn around and retrace our steps.
After filling up with "sang" (gas) we asked around and were on our way to the northern part of the island, about a 45 minute ride. Once on the main road it was a beautiful ride: road paved, lush greenery, roadside stands selling fresh fruits. Then a turn off. This was a dirt road that would lead us to Dao beach, our final destination which was meant to have white sand beaches, calm water no deeper than 5 feet and a serene environment. Just before reaching Dao, the road got rocky and a bit more holly, which is also where the motorbike gave way and Juliane and I were thrown off the bike to find ourselves with wounds on the left side of our bodies. Being the only road leading to this part of the island, many many people stopped to ask if we needed help: foreigners and locals alike. A young man 18 years old called () and his uncle Nim who were on way back from market in the central part of the island remained with us on the road until finally they offered to drive each of us to the hospital. Juliane rode with Nim and I rode with (). We were greeted at rhe clinic by many local Vietnamese, including our 19 year old translator who had all heard of our accident. After getting cleaned up by the doctor on duty, about 20 years old we were invited over to their home while a taxi was called. The four of us foreigners were very impressed by the sincere empathy displayed by this entire community as they would not take a monetary token of appreciation. By this point it was just after noon and Benoit and I drove the motorbikes home whilet the girls took the cab back to Long Beach. The rest of the trip on the island was a little more tame since I could not go swimming due to the small hole in my left elbow and gash on my left foot.
The night before I left I was en route to my bungalow and stopped into the local market to get a bottle of water and a beer. This is where I met Robinson, a local fisherman about 55 years old who was excited about "how easy it was to understand my English" and was eager to show me some photos he had taken. After 15 minutes of conversation he invites me to sit with their group (Thuy- a woman about 50 and the store owner and Dudu a guy from Madagascar on the backpacker circuit) to continue enjoying beers and conversation- so I did. 2-3 hours later our conversation, in French English and Vietnamese, went from "where are you from" to "leading life with an open heart" multiple beers and a nice connections who were complete strangers when I first got there.
The next morning it was back to Saigon for a couple more days to indulge in tet. Arriving in the city again, it was even more dressed up than it was before. Yellow flowers everywhere. Signage stating "chuc mung nam moi" all over town. Families on one motorbike getting all of their presents. This new year celebration on Jan 23rd was sure to be an exciting opportunity.
I shared a hotel with Juliane right in district 1 behind the main backpacker road. Left and right offerings for any drug imaginable, perhaps more so than bangkok's Khao San Road. The first night we went to the backpacker road called () and there are many spots where you sit on the street on 2 foot stools (felt like the chairs from my preschool days) and beers at 10.000 dong ($.48) for a .75L beer. We had a few beers and met loads of people from all over the world. Carlos and Gema from Barcelona, Henrick from Switzerland, and Manuel from Germany but living in Hanoi all if us say, people watched, shared stories and agreed to meet at the same spot the next night to celebrate new years, and we did, but with even more people and more beer. That is only how new years celebration started. The highlight will have to be watching the traffic in their return from watching the fire works on the Saigom river. Pretty much the city shuts down and all the locals go to the organized events throughout the city. Stages in parks with music and performance, food booths all over town. Fireworks that lasted forever. Imagine New York City traffic, but all motorbikes (as I has described before). <<>> Usually annoying. In tho case it was like a show. We stood on the street corner of a major intersection and watched for nearly an hour. It was a-mazing that there were no accidents while we watched. I would never drive in Saigon. Earlier in the day I had bought some envelopes for "lucky money". Probably about 10 of them. I filled each of them with some dong and handed them out to vietnamese people that were of help through the day. My favorite was a little boy about 3 who was watching fireworks in front of us and was SUPER excited. Each time he would clap and jump and laugh and you could see his high positive energy glaring through. Once I gave him his envelope he became extremely shy- bit his mother convinced him to take a photo with me. Cute kid.
One thing I forgot- I was really lucky to have met Juliane as she is a nurse in Austria and assisted me with cleaning the battle wounds from Phu Quoc. something I would not get once I was in Myanmar.
Traveler recommendations: eat the street food. The Phô and spring rolls. Spring street hotel in district 1 was perfect. Very nice rooms, cebtrally located and split between 2 people ended up at $15 each night.
It's true. Just as people say "Go to Chiang Mai!... a beautiful mellow international city." I took their word. Not to mention friends from Santa Barbara Toby and Jade live there, but they were on vacation while I was in town. Given that here I was now on my own for the rest of my trip, I was excited to have a good time and explore the north of Thailand.
After an overnight 12 hour train ride from Bangkok, I arrived at Safe House Court, a guest house that had been recommended by two American girls, Kelli and Lara, who were living in Konchanaburi and would also be there at the same time I was. They were having breakfast and gearing up to go do Flight of the Gibbon, a zip line course in the heart of the jungle. I joined.
For the zip line tour, we were joined by just one other guy called Caleb from Tennessee but now living in Singapore. The four of us together swung across loads of jungle the longest of our flights at just over 80 meters. We even got a glimpse of some gibbon monkeys that for a second there thought one was going to jump off the tree and accost our group. After a nice dinner at the base camp and a short hike up to a nice waterfall we were returned back to our homes.
The next morning I went off in search of a bicycle to rent so I can explore the city. The single speed bike was a little used but it wold surely get me around town. I was off- I went to a few pagodas, rode throughout Chiang Mai in and outside of the moat (the old part of CM is surrounded by a moat and parts of the old walls to the city. Inside these walls is where most touristy stuff happens) and took in the energy of CM via bike. Later that night I went to the night market on my bike. There is a standing night market and then there is the Chiang Mai walking market. I did both. It is fascinating to see the energy of the town: tourist, locals, music, food, clothing, warm weather and many many smiles. Walking through the market I met a guy called Carlo. We hit it off as he had split up from his group of friends and was on his own. Walking around to various stands with a Chang in hand, we tried the various food offerings the market had until we ran into his friends again. Enter Nakita and Haley. This lovely group of individuals had met through their travels in various cities. All traveling on their own, but maintained their connection in places they visited at the same time. I was in. Not only did I come across some VERY nice people, but they also allowed me an in to their group. Later that night we also met two others: Alice and Matteo. Over the next few days this group of 6 would encounter various adventures throughout Chiang Mai, indulge in good food, drink beers, dance and have great conversation about anything from humbling energy of travel to sexuality to life vision. All fair game. I will admit that coming across this stellar group of travelers made Chiang Mai for me, but more than that- it made me some good friends. Thanks Carlo!
One afternoon we were eager to go visit the Wat Phrathat Doi Suthepjust outside of CM up the mountain. The first plan was lets rent motorbikes and ride up. Unfortunately for us nearly all motorbikes had been rented from the various places in town as it was a really nice sunny day, so instead we hired a "red truck", which are all over the city and so worthy of bartering with (Thanks Nakita!) The temple itself was impressive, but what I enjoyed the most was the calm and peace walking around this sacred space. It was like staying at a park on a Saturday afternoon, no worries, good company and just a sense of balance. It is true that visiting temples in Thailand and Asia in general, can get old. They all have their own story, but after you've seen 5 or 6, you are in awe of the gold and design for a bit, and then it fades. Kind of like going on a church tour throughout Europe. Returning back to town it was time for a bite and then an outing to Zoe in Yellow and the Reggae bar. Live band equals good times and loads of dancing.
The next morning I decided it was time for another motorbike rental. Ao i can explore more of the city. Little did i know that i was just setting myself up to get lost. I went to the Warorot market on the other side of town, parked the bike in an alleyway and walked around for hours. This market I found specialized in incense, tea and herbs. It was everywhere. So I bought some. One thing that I really found myself excelling at during this trip is my ability to barter... I think in large prt due to the loads of markets I visited. During this visit at the market, I felt that I had kept tabs on each turn I made and would later be able to get back to the motorbike. I was wrong. Since all the shops looked the same I found myself going in circles trying to get out of this maZe. Eventually, (like 2 hours later) through a picture recognition and asking a few people, I found my bike and rode back to my room. Riding around CM on a motorbike is very pleasant. The traffic is not overwhelming, the amount of horn use is not as much as other cities and in general people are friendly. It felt good to see Chiang Mai via motorbike.
Later that afternoon I connected with Carlo and Nakita and we went to Chang Chalad, a small restaurant that had been recommended to me and that I ate at when I got my haircut the first day in CM. The three of us rode on the motorbike together and it was quite an adventure. We sat for a couple of hours and had a lovely conversation. Talk about weight balance on the motorbike. As the driver, I thought I did a pretty good job, but more importantly it was way fun. We drove Nakita back as she was on her way out of town and connected with Alice and Matteo. We had massages booked that evening and it was something that I was totally looking forward to.
Later that night Carlo and I went on an adventure to find something to eat. Starting off going in the wrong direction, as we were headed to the night market, we got lost. Matteo and Alice were waiting for us to go explore the "gay" part of town and after driving in circles around the moat , asking for directions from people on the street and eventually finding our way back- the four of us were off to take on the night. The attempt at the gay bars was unsuccessful. Because of the nature of the bar, beers were very costly, comparatively... We took off and eventually found ourselves back at the reggae bar. After loads more dancing, a few buckets and meeting new people my last night in Chiang Mai came to an end. It was a beautiful night spent with a few individuals with really good energy. These are the people that when I look back on my trip to South East Asia, especially Chiang Mai, it will be them who come to mind. The human connection, which already I am missing.
The next morning I had booked a cooking class at the Thai School of Cookery. A five hour course on making some of the most traditional Thai dishes. This seemed like the perfect way to wrap up my trip in CM and it was. A tour of a local market to purchase all of ingredients, instruction on each of the dishes we chose to cook at the school and the opportunity to eat them all was fantastic! I will detail more on this when I write about my food experience, but in short- highly recommended to take a Thai cooking class!
I went back to my guest house to check out and book my accommodation and transport for my trip to Vietnam. As I am printing my boarding pass for my flight I realize that my departure time is in about 15 minutes..... No way I would make it in time. Lucky for me there was one more flight that night but was not certain I would make my connection from Bangkok to Saigon... I would take my chances and fortunately for me- I made it. This was f course due to the help of the Qatar counter agent. She RAN with me through the Bangkok airport and put me through the priority line (she was in heels) and I made my connection and on my way to Ho Chi Minh City I was, excited to explore Hoi An, Dananag and Saigon.
