we drive on the left

Chiang Mai’s most famous temple, Wat Doi Suthep, which sits atop a nearby mountain overlooking the city. Legend says an auspicious white elephant was followed to the top of the mountain. It circled three times before laying down, consecrating the sacred spot on which the wat was built. Visitors ritually circle this stupa three times reciting mantra for prayer and good luck.

Could win the prize for cutest picture ever if someone tells me how to Photoshop eyeballs on my face. Strangers are no match for these adorable little tribal kids. Mom stands close by counting the Baht they make.

At Doi Suthep

Sometimes we work planting rice.

And sometimes my brother deserves a good ass-kicking in the mud.

It’s a duel to the death! The elders know to stop us would be to interfere with Destiny herself!

Safety is a relative term, isn’t it? I feel safer walking at night in Chiang Mai than I do in most U.S. cities.

The only time I feel unsafe here is when I’m on my bicycle or on the back of a motorbike in traffic. Learning to drive on the left side of the road isn’t so bad, but Chiang Mai was built in the 13th century. It’s not your average grid city.

First I’m on the left. Now I’m on the right turning into left-hand traffic. Here’s a round-a-bout. Now I’m going the wrong way on a one-way street.

I went back to the bike shop to ask for a helmet, to which they cackled and replied, “You on bicycle. It no pro-BLEM.” Everything in Chiang Mai is “Mai pen rai,” which translates to, “no problem.”

“Yes, but It pro-BLEM foh MEE,” I explained sternly.

So, they gave me a pink 1940’s World War II style bomber helmet and sent me on my way.

My mother’s bracing gasp for air comes to mind as Vinnie and I bob and weave through traffic, lane splitting and zig-zagging our way up to the front of the pack.

While driving a motorbike requires a certain learned skill-set, much bigger balls are needed to ride on the back of one. Thrilling as it may be to have the fresh mountain air streaming through your hair, your body leaning into the curves of the road, there’s nothing keeping your fragile life and limbs protected other than centrifugal forces and the competency of your trusted driver.

I sing a little song to myself though that helps to calm the mind. It’s the Seven Dwarf’s theme song, “Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go,” and replace the words with, “Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die don’t die don’t die!”

It’s seemed to work so far.

ready for take-off

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain

As I count down the final hours before I board the plane, there’s something gutturally ancient and instinctual happening in the core of my soul and the marrow of my being . I am scared and emotional and completely out of my mind, willingly walking the plank.

I’ve set it all up. It’s all my doing, but I’m afraid of leaving those I’ve made connections with on this earth. I prepare to leave this planet. I’m afraid things will be different when I get back. I’m afraid I’m leaving the life I’ve made and everything I’ve ever known.

I wasn’t scared until now. Now, the nerves are rattling me from the inside out. Hands shaking, legs weak, heart in my throat, eyebrows furled. The plates are colliding deep underneath, wreaking havoc on the surface.

I’m tired of prolonging the inevitable. I’d like to jump now please. Jump now. Please. Say yes to the infinite. Leave this dream. Know only one thing. Thyself. And trust that everything else is an illusion. I’ve gotten lost in other ways before. But they were chemical. This time is real. I’m ready to feel this way every day. This is my edge. And I’m bursting through it.

to be alone

By Takeaway (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Someone recently asked me what I’m excited about most for my trip, and my response was, “to be alone.” While this may seem naive – one never really is alone while there are people, nature, or a bustling city atmosphere to keep her company – I feel the need to really do something and to do it on my own. To find truth through my own senses again. To wake up to the unfamiliar smells of a new country and a changed hue of morning light. To learn new skills for life and trade. To re-learn how the grass feels between my toes.