It is such a blessing, when in a foreign land, to befriend a native. My parents and I have been so blessed in our friend, Danny. Danny works in the Ace Office Supplies store in Kolonia. This is where we met him. He comes from pretty solid Pohnpeian stock, as I understand it. His mother’s family owns some land around Sokehs Rock. Sokehs Rock is the island’s most notable (or, perhaps, most noticeable?) natural landmark. It’s a very large rock with strong cliff faces to three sides, and it is visible from most everywhere on the island. Danny’s father’s family owns one of the islands situated just off the coast of Pohnpei. To own land in Pohnpei is a sign of wealth and status.
Danny is a very nice fellow. I met him shortly after my arrival on Pohnpei while doing some shopping at the Ace Office Supplies store. He offered to show me around the island if I was interested. I took him up on his offer.
Last Saturday, Danny took us to Kepirohi waterfall and to Nan Madol. Kepirohi is arguably the most beautiful waterfall on Pohnpei. According to the Pohnpei Ecotourism Travel Guide it is approximately 66 feet tall, 98 feet wide, and is made up of large, square basalt stones. There is a lovely little lake at the bottom of the falls where we went swimming. Most of it is pretty shallow, but just at the base of the falls it becomes a little deeper … maybe 6 feet deep or so. We had a fun time swimming in the lake and feeling the cool spray of the falls showering us on its plunge down the stone face of the basalt cliff. Danny climbed a third of the way up the falls. He said he can climb all the way up, and used to do it all the time when he was younger, but he doesn’t go to the top much anymore now that he’s getting older. I got about three feet above the water, but couldn’t climb any higher than that. (The rocks were too slippery, and I was too afraid that I would slip and crack my head if I got too zealous about the climb. It’s also not so easy to climb up against a wall of water that is crashing down.) It was so beautiful there. Thick tropical foliage surrounded us echoing the large stones that circled around the little lake. It was like we had entered an enchanted bubble where the world was pristine and quiet but for the sounds of the falls dancing on rock and water below, and birds singing in the trees. Sunshine would catch in the water creating little tiny rainbows and sparkles of light throughout the place. And the air was soft and cool and smelled clean and green. It was lovely.
Nan Madol is an ancient ruins site. It is a place shrouded in mystery and mysticism. It consists of a city with many Venetian-style canals built around and through it. The structures were constructed by stacking large basalt logs on each other in alternating patterns – kind of the way one would stack Lincoln Logs. The stone logs are huge and have a specific hexagonal shape to them. It is believed that the stone was quarried elsewhere and brought to the site by ancient islanders called Saudeleurs. The Saudeleurs were great magicians, and many Pohnpeians believe that they built the city by moving the stones into place with their magicks. There are, of course, variations of this legend, just as there are variations of practically every legend ever told. But, this is the gist and it seems to be the most common version of the story. The Saudeleur Dynasty ruled Pohnpei for some time with the seat of their power residing at Nan Madol. I have yet to learn what exactly happened to the Saudeleurs, or when it happened, to bring about their extinction. It is written that the Dynasty governed between 1000 and 1600 C.E. Nan Madol, itself, consists of 92 separate islands covering 222 acres. It was a center for both political and religious activities. According to the Pohnpei Ecotourism Travel Guide, Nan Madol is said to have been constructed between 500 and 1500 C.E., and included the residence and tombs of the royal family, servant quarters, a guest house for visitors and separate islands for funerals and storage. (The possible discrepancy in dates is another of the mysteries of this place.) The name Nan Madol means “land in between.” It has been speculated that this mystical city may have been a passage or border between our world and another world. Whether that is true or not, the ruins are quite beautiful. I can only imagine the city’s magnificence when it was in its full splendor.
Yesterday, Danny agreed to be our trusty guide again. We asked him to take us to the Pohnpaip Petroglyphs, and to a place that one of the Peace Corps volunteers referred to as the “Bat Cave.” It is a cave behind the Pahn Takai waterfall. Being a cave, it is a natural home to bats, but this cave also affords some amazing views of Pohnpei from behind the curtain of the cascading falls.
The rain started falling just as we were leaving the house to meet Danny. I think I was the only one who was happy about this. I love being in the rain, and being in the rain in a jungle is an extra special treat for me. However, I seem to be in the minority on this topic … at least within the tiny tour group of me, Mom and Dad. As we drove to our destination the rain fell, then the rain stopped, then the rain fell, then the rain stopped. (Perhaps we were driving in and out of the cloud’s radius?) The road to the falls was a very steep uphill one. Dad’s little island car, the Mitsubishi Toppo, has very little power when it comes to hills. So, halfway up, Mom, Danny and I got out and walked while Dad drove the car the rest of the way up to the parking area. It was raining then. And it continued raining as we got the car parked and headed into the jungle on the path that would lead us to the waterfall. The path was a very narrow one, and quite a steep uphill climb. The footing was tricky with vines and rocks littering the trail. Add to that the fact that it was raining and you might be able to imagine the slippery disco that was our trek up this jungle mountain. Mom and Dad were such troopers. They were ill equipped for rainy hiking. Neither of them had a raincoat. Both of them were trying to hold onto umbrellas – closed at this point. Mom was wearing flimsy flip-flops, and Dad was wearing Crocs. One of Mom’s flip-flops broke at the very beginning of the hike. The piece between the toes ripped out of the sole. Luckily, I had my trusty collection of safety pins and Dad had his trusty multi-purpose tool, so we were able to pull a MacGyver maneuver and mend her shoe on the spot. (This was the same way I mended my friend’s broken flip flop in Naples, Italy several years ago. Piece of advice: Always carry safety pins.)
So there we were slipping and sliding up the mountain, groping at vines and tree trunks and each other for stability. Rain was steadily pelting us so that we looked like a bunch of drowned rats scrabbling through the jungle. Higher and higher we climbed. Eventually Mom decided she’d had enough. We had been hiking for quite a while in these conditions, but were still only about halfway to the falls. We could see the waterfall across the valley that separated us from it. It was beautiful, but it would be quite a bit further to get to it. So, in deference to Mom, we turned around and headed back down the way we came.
If we thought going up the mountain on a slippery muddy path was an adventure, going back down proved to be twice the challenge. There were a few instances of some of our party pounding the trail with their butts, but we all made it back down free of injury or any real insult. As we were nearing the exit point of the trail, Mom’s other shoe broke, so we had to rig it up like the first. Amazingly, she didn’t have any trouble from either of them once we mended them for her. By the time we reached the car again the sun was emerging and the clouds were parting. Oh well. We’ll try this hike again when it’s not so wet. Besides, Danny talked to a woman near the falls who told us that there is another shorter hike that will take us to the cave, so we’ll go that route on our next visit. I know that Mom and Dad were probably not bowled over by the experience of hiking in the rain, but I had a grand time!
Next stop: Petroglyphs! So, in case you are wondering what the heck a petroglyph is, it is basically an ancient rock carving/drawing. There is a large dome made of stone in the middle of the jungle here on Pohnpei. Apparently it is, at least partly, hollow inside. No one knows where the entrance to the inside is, but the outer roof extends out of the earth like a stone terrace. One can walk along the top of the dome (or mosquito net as the locals called it). There are lots of pictures engraved in the surface of this outer dome roof thingy. There are depictions of swords and daggers and feet, some people and animal shapes, and other shapes that we couldn’t definitively identify. The carvings are very primitive, and are, undoubtedly, very old. No one seems to know who created the petroglyphs or exactly when. But they are really interesting to see. In addition to the carvings, the view from the mosquito net is phenomenal: Panoramic jungle foliage crowned with halos of wispy clouds. Gorgeous! There was another muddy hike to get there, but it was much shorter and much, much tamer than our previous foray into the jungle, so we were able to boogie through it easily.
After we climbed back down from the Petroglyphs and washed our feet in a sweet little brook, we loaded our soggy, muddy selves into the car for the return trip home. On the way, Danny suggested we make one last quick stop at a nearby local site called Lizard Rock. We didn’t really know what to expect when he said it was ‘where the Lizard came out of the rock and got stuck there’. Being good Americans we just smiled and nodded at him and told him to show us the way there. Turns out Lizard Rock is a natural rock formation that looks like an alligator emerging from stone. It corresponds to an island legend about a Lizard Woman (half alligator and half human woman) who was cast out of heaven. This is the story as it was told to me: She was cast out of heaven, and emerged on earth from this particular mass of stones. The Lizard Woman had two daughters. (It was not clear to me if her two daughters came with her or if she spawned them after her ejection from heaven.) The daughters were human and very beautiful. They would often bathe themselves in perfumed oils of white ginger and other tropical scents. When they did so oil would wash away down the river and into the sea. A king near the sea saw the oils on the water. When the heady scents reached his nostrils, he became enchanted. He sent folks to search out the women who bathed in these mesmerizing oils. Surely they would be as beautiful as the scents that kissed their skin and hair! The daughters were captured by the king’s lackeys, and enslaved by the king. The Lizard Woman was furious and went in search of her daughters down the winding river (which symbolizes her slithering pursuit) toward the sea. The king, upon learning the Lizard Woman was on her way, sent minions to burn her house. (This part got a little fuzzy in the telling. I am not sure how she was burned in her house while she was out looking for her daughters, but in any case, her house was burned and she was in it, and she died.) The daughters, seeing the smoke above their mother’s house, knew that she was dead. They, then, escaped to their mother’s house and joined her in the fire. The end. Okay, so it’s not a super happy story, but it’s a fun landmark. The Pohnpeians who own the land on which Lizard Rock resides - the police chief and his family - had some local artists come and paint the rocks with the images of the Lizard Woman and her two daughters. It is nestled aside a clump of large boulders that create a path to a scenic overlook area. More spectacular panoramic views … these of jungle on one side and sea on the other. The chief’s daughter, a woman named Joyce, was there at the site and told us the story. She was a really congenial and charming lady. It was good fun, and a great end to our day of touring.
I’m not sure when it’s going to happen for sure, but I think Danny’s going to take us on a hike up Sokehs Ridge next. There is reportedly an abundance of beautiful flora and winged creatures on that trail. There’s also another waterfall nearby, so we’ll probably try to stop by there, too. And, of course, we have to make a return trip to the Bat Cave of Pahn Takai. I will, of course, be sharing all of these adventures with you here as they happen. Just stay tuned. Same bat time. Same bat channel.
26 July, 2011
24 July, 2011
Swimming with Sharks ... and Other Adventures
Today was quite an eventful day. Dad, Mom and I arranged a kayaking and snorkeling trip through The Village resort. We arrived at The Village a little before our 8:30am arrival time. I had assumed that it would just be us when I called and booked the trip earlier this week, but it turns out we were joined by another fellow and his two daughters. The fellow’s name was Bill. He works for the federal government, but in a different department than Dad. He’s been on island for about a year already. His daughters, Ashley and Amber, were visiting for summer vacation from San Diego. Ashley will be entering 8th grade when she returns. Amber turned 17 yesterday, so they were celebrating her birthday. Fortunately, they were nice folks, and we enjoyed their company.
Kayaking was scheduled for the first part of the day. This was necessary so that we could make sure to get the boats in the water before the tide receded. We had two [awesome] guides, Jay and Bernard. They loaded up the kayaks in one boat, and us in another and took us out to one of the little islands that rest just off of Pohnpei. My mother does not really like water. We made sure to tell the folks at The Village this when booking the trip. She rode in a tandem kayak with Dad. They were pretty funny at first, with both of them trying to paddle, usually in opposite directions. But pretty quickly they were making good time and rowing in sync with each other like old pros. I was very proud of them. The rest of us had single kayaks. Bernard was our paddling guide. He deftly navigated us through several mangrove channels. It was really beautiful, but also slightly treacherous at times. The overgrown mangrove root systems could get a little grabby in some areas making maneuvering the kayaks through the already tight spaces even more challenging. This, of course, was half the fun. The water was very shallow, too, since the tide was on its way out to sea, so there were a few spots where the kayaks would get temporarily stuck on the bottom. Good times and good fun … and hard work, that paddling! I loved it, though. It put me in mind of buying my own kayak sometime in the near future.
After our adventures in tiny boats, we loaded the kayaks and ourselves back into the motorboats. The guides then transported us to another little man made island for lunch and some shallow snorkeling. This island was chosen specifically so that Mom would get a chance to try snorkeling in a shallow easily navigated area. (Which served Dad and me well, too, as we were all brand new to snorkeling.) When I made the trip arrangements we were assured that we could do our snorkeling in a location that was shallow enough for us to be able to touch bottom and where there would be a very gradual slope into the ocean. Turns out, they took us to this first location just to get mom in the water as preparation for taking us on to two other popular (and not shallow!) snorkeling sites. (My guess is that Bill made his arrangements later than we did, and The Village decided to try to accommodate both our parties in one excursion. It turned out to be a blessing for me and Dad, and Mom was fine with it, so there was no harm done.) Mom was very brave as she took her first forays into the water. She was able to put her head under water (almost unheard of for her!) and stay there for several minutes at a time. She did have some moments of panic, but she didn’t let them stop her from trying again. Jay and Bernard were fantastic at staying by her side and giving her support and advice. The rest of us took a little time examining the underwater inhabitants of the shallow reef.
After about a half hour of this “warm up” snorkeling, we climbed back into the motorboats and were whisked away to the next snorkeling site. This site is what is popularly known as Manta Road. It is, in case you didn’t already work it out, where manta rays can be found, and even has a popular manta ray cleaning station where, according to the Pohnpei Ecotourism Travel Guide, mantas go to have tiny fish eat "parasitic insects and leftover food which cling to the mantas' skin and gills". It’s about forty or so feet deep, if I heard the guides correctly. Mom sat this one out without a second thought. I was feeling very nervous about the idea of being in ocean this deep, but was considering it. Then I hear mom ask Jay, “What was that fin?” “Sharks,” he said, smiling. Crap. That shattered all of my considerations. I wasn’t ready for sharks. I have been working very hard on reprogramming myself to release my ridiculous phobia of sharks, but I wasn’t ready to jump in the water with them on my very first day of snorkeling. Bill and Amber had already gotten in and were out snorkeling. The notion of sharks stopped Ashley in her tracks, too. She was still willing to get in, but only with her dad nearby. He, however, wasn’t willing to swim back to the boat to get her. She was, naturally, bummed. But Jay said he’d take her out to her dad if she wanted. She was considering this as we saw the shark fins again. This time I saw them too. They were small. I have been researching the reef sharks that are native to this area, and I am pretty sure they were immature black tip reef sharks. Jay confirmed that they were probably no longer than his arm. They didn’t strike fear in me when I saw them, so I decided that I would consider getting in the water if my Daddy would go with me.
It was settled, then: Jay, Ashley, Dad and I would all swim out from the boat together. We all held hands (Dad and Jay on the outsides of our troop) as we swam toward the area where the mantas were. This was, incidentally, where we had seen the little sharks. As we swam, I tried to keep my eyes forward, but underwater, and focused on my breathing. (Snorkeling is still a little awkward for me as I tend to be a pretty consistent nose breather.) As we got closer to the mantas I saw a school of Rainbow Runner fish. For some reason that set off my panic button, and I started having trouble breathing. My head and chest were pressurizing. I was trying to tell the others in our human chain that I needed to turn around. I was squeezing my dad’s hand like crazy to try to get him to understand that I needed to get out of the water, but he didn’t realize I was in distress. Finally, Bernard, who had joined Bill and Amber out over the mantas, looked up and saw my building hysteria. He asked me if I was okay, and I shook my head emphatically, “NO!” He swam over straight away and grabbed my hand and helped me get back to the boat. About half way back, Dad realized that I wasn’t beside him anymore, and came to join us. I swallowed and snorted a lot of water during my freak out. I got a terrible headache from the pressure in my head and chest. It was awful. And I was embarrassed and frustrated, because I had been out where the mantas were, and had managed to not even see a single one! Dad saw several. The other snorkelers were still out there. Dad and I joined mom to watch the others from the safety of the boat, and to allow me to recover from my anxiety.
After about ten or fifteen minutes, I managed to calm myself down and give myself a good pep talk. I felt ready to try again. Jay came back to help me, and, sandwiched between him and Dad, I managed to make my way back out into the ocean. I was much calmer this round. I kept my breathing nice and steady. I looked around as I went … well, at least a little more than last time. I saw the school of Rainbow Runners again, as well as a school of Needle fish. Then Dad motioned for me to look down, so I did. There it was. It was magnificent. A manta ray was gracefully twirling and swirling in its beautiful open-mouthed dance just beneath us. And I saw it. I watched it for several moments, then decided I was ready to go back to the boat again. I felt vindicated to myself. I did it. I got in the water … twice. And I rose above my fear. And I was rewarded with the gift of this spectacular manta ray ballet. (There were apparently at least seven mantas twirling around there, but I only saw one since I was too chicken to broaden my scope of vision. But one was enough, thank you very much.) When we all got back on the boat, Bill asked if any of us had seen the shark down below the mantas. Thank goodness I had not. He said it was about five or six feet long, and was just chilling down there. He said it was the biggest shark he’d seen since he’d been here, and he scuba dives. My guess is that it was a white tip reef shark. I remember reading that they tend to just lounge about on the bottom of the ocean or under the reefs whenever they aren’t hunting. Either way, I am glad to know that I knowingly swam in water with sharks; that there were even adult sharks in there with me, and most importantly, that I didn’t see any of them while I was in the water.
We left the mantas to relocate to another popular snorkeling point. This place was called Mwand Pass. There are several of these passes around Pohnpei island. These are channel breaks in the reef surrounding the island, which create these really phenomenal living reef walls that act kind of like hallways from the inside reef area out to the ocean proper. One brochure we have describes the passes like this:
“Towering up on either side of the channel are huge ledges of coral. Looking over these ledges, one can view a beautiful white sand bottom beneath crystal-blue waters.”
I was initially not planning to get in the water here. I was feeling tired and had already taken some pretty big steps for me. But, Dad was going in, so I decided to take a quick swim to check out the reef. I am glad I did. Once again, I was flanked by Dad and Jay as I set out from the boat. This area was entirely different from Manta Road. Even though the water was about three times deeper here, the reef wall provided a sense of protection and orientation. I only explored it for a little while, but I felt comfortable enough to even release the hands of my supporters. I saw several different kinds of reef fish, but I couldn’t tell you what any of them were. They were beautiful, though. Jay pointed out some giant clams. And the reef itself, the coral and seaweed and other living structures were just amazing to behold. When I got back in the boat I really felt like I had accomplished so much. I was really quite proud of myself. This was our last stop of the day, and I felt like I finished the day with no regrets. It was a very good day.
We returned to The Village, had a bite to eat, and came home completely knackered. Now I am typing this in bed, nursing a sun burn (despite repeat applications of sunscreen) and a massive headache that I can’t seem to shake. And, still, it was worth it. A very good day.
Kayaking was scheduled for the first part of the day. This was necessary so that we could make sure to get the boats in the water before the tide receded. We had two [awesome] guides, Jay and Bernard. They loaded up the kayaks in one boat, and us in another and took us out to one of the little islands that rest just off of Pohnpei. My mother does not really like water. We made sure to tell the folks at The Village this when booking the trip. She rode in a tandem kayak with Dad. They were pretty funny at first, with both of them trying to paddle, usually in opposite directions. But pretty quickly they were making good time and rowing in sync with each other like old pros. I was very proud of them. The rest of us had single kayaks. Bernard was our paddling guide. He deftly navigated us through several mangrove channels. It was really beautiful, but also slightly treacherous at times. The overgrown mangrove root systems could get a little grabby in some areas making maneuvering the kayaks through the already tight spaces even more challenging. This, of course, was half the fun. The water was very shallow, too, since the tide was on its way out to sea, so there were a few spots where the kayaks would get temporarily stuck on the bottom. Good times and good fun … and hard work, that paddling! I loved it, though. It put me in mind of buying my own kayak sometime in the near future.
After our adventures in tiny boats, we loaded the kayaks and ourselves back into the motorboats. The guides then transported us to another little man made island for lunch and some shallow snorkeling. This island was chosen specifically so that Mom would get a chance to try snorkeling in a shallow easily navigated area. (Which served Dad and me well, too, as we were all brand new to snorkeling.) When I made the trip arrangements we were assured that we could do our snorkeling in a location that was shallow enough for us to be able to touch bottom and where there would be a very gradual slope into the ocean. Turns out, they took us to this first location just to get mom in the water as preparation for taking us on to two other popular (and not shallow!) snorkeling sites. (My guess is that Bill made his arrangements later than we did, and The Village decided to try to accommodate both our parties in one excursion. It turned out to be a blessing for me and Dad, and Mom was fine with it, so there was no harm done.) Mom was very brave as she took her first forays into the water. She was able to put her head under water (almost unheard of for her!) and stay there for several minutes at a time. She did have some moments of panic, but she didn’t let them stop her from trying again. Jay and Bernard were fantastic at staying by her side and giving her support and advice. The rest of us took a little time examining the underwater inhabitants of the shallow reef.
After about a half hour of this “warm up” snorkeling, we climbed back into the motorboats and were whisked away to the next snorkeling site. This site is what is popularly known as Manta Road. It is, in case you didn’t already work it out, where manta rays can be found, and even has a popular manta ray cleaning station where, according to the Pohnpei Ecotourism Travel Guide, mantas go to have tiny fish eat "parasitic insects and leftover food which cling to the mantas' skin and gills". It’s about forty or so feet deep, if I heard the guides correctly. Mom sat this one out without a second thought. I was feeling very nervous about the idea of being in ocean this deep, but was considering it. Then I hear mom ask Jay, “What was that fin?” “Sharks,” he said, smiling. Crap. That shattered all of my considerations. I wasn’t ready for sharks. I have been working very hard on reprogramming myself to release my ridiculous phobia of sharks, but I wasn’t ready to jump in the water with them on my very first day of snorkeling. Bill and Amber had already gotten in and were out snorkeling. The notion of sharks stopped Ashley in her tracks, too. She was still willing to get in, but only with her dad nearby. He, however, wasn’t willing to swim back to the boat to get her. She was, naturally, bummed. But Jay said he’d take her out to her dad if she wanted. She was considering this as we saw the shark fins again. This time I saw them too. They were small. I have been researching the reef sharks that are native to this area, and I am pretty sure they were immature black tip reef sharks. Jay confirmed that they were probably no longer than his arm. They didn’t strike fear in me when I saw them, so I decided that I would consider getting in the water if my Daddy would go with me.
It was settled, then: Jay, Ashley, Dad and I would all swim out from the boat together. We all held hands (Dad and Jay on the outsides of our troop) as we swam toward the area where the mantas were. This was, incidentally, where we had seen the little sharks. As we swam, I tried to keep my eyes forward, but underwater, and focused on my breathing. (Snorkeling is still a little awkward for me as I tend to be a pretty consistent nose breather.) As we got closer to the mantas I saw a school of Rainbow Runner fish. For some reason that set off my panic button, and I started having trouble breathing. My head and chest were pressurizing. I was trying to tell the others in our human chain that I needed to turn around. I was squeezing my dad’s hand like crazy to try to get him to understand that I needed to get out of the water, but he didn’t realize I was in distress. Finally, Bernard, who had joined Bill and Amber out over the mantas, looked up and saw my building hysteria. He asked me if I was okay, and I shook my head emphatically, “NO!” He swam over straight away and grabbed my hand and helped me get back to the boat. About half way back, Dad realized that I wasn’t beside him anymore, and came to join us. I swallowed and snorted a lot of water during my freak out. I got a terrible headache from the pressure in my head and chest. It was awful. And I was embarrassed and frustrated, because I had been out where the mantas were, and had managed to not even see a single one! Dad saw several. The other snorkelers were still out there. Dad and I joined mom to watch the others from the safety of the boat, and to allow me to recover from my anxiety.
After about ten or fifteen minutes, I managed to calm myself down and give myself a good pep talk. I felt ready to try again. Jay came back to help me, and, sandwiched between him and Dad, I managed to make my way back out into the ocean. I was much calmer this round. I kept my breathing nice and steady. I looked around as I went … well, at least a little more than last time. I saw the school of Rainbow Runners again, as well as a school of Needle fish. Then Dad motioned for me to look down, so I did. There it was. It was magnificent. A manta ray was gracefully twirling and swirling in its beautiful open-mouthed dance just beneath us. And I saw it. I watched it for several moments, then decided I was ready to go back to the boat again. I felt vindicated to myself. I did it. I got in the water … twice. And I rose above my fear. And I was rewarded with the gift of this spectacular manta ray ballet. (There were apparently at least seven mantas twirling around there, but I only saw one since I was too chicken to broaden my scope of vision. But one was enough, thank you very much.) When we all got back on the boat, Bill asked if any of us had seen the shark down below the mantas. Thank goodness I had not. He said it was about five or six feet long, and was just chilling down there. He said it was the biggest shark he’d seen since he’d been here, and he scuba dives. My guess is that it was a white tip reef shark. I remember reading that they tend to just lounge about on the bottom of the ocean or under the reefs whenever they aren’t hunting. Either way, I am glad to know that I knowingly swam in water with sharks; that there were even adult sharks in there with me, and most importantly, that I didn’t see any of them while I was in the water.
We left the mantas to relocate to another popular snorkeling point. This place was called Mwand Pass. There are several of these passes around Pohnpei island. These are channel breaks in the reef surrounding the island, which create these really phenomenal living reef walls that act kind of like hallways from the inside reef area out to the ocean proper. One brochure we have describes the passes like this:
“Towering up on either side of the channel are huge ledges of coral. Looking over these ledges, one can view a beautiful white sand bottom beneath crystal-blue waters.”
I was initially not planning to get in the water here. I was feeling tired and had already taken some pretty big steps for me. But, Dad was going in, so I decided to take a quick swim to check out the reef. I am glad I did. Once again, I was flanked by Dad and Jay as I set out from the boat. This area was entirely different from Manta Road. Even though the water was about three times deeper here, the reef wall provided a sense of protection and orientation. I only explored it for a little while, but I felt comfortable enough to even release the hands of my supporters. I saw several different kinds of reef fish, but I couldn’t tell you what any of them were. They were beautiful, though. Jay pointed out some giant clams. And the reef itself, the coral and seaweed and other living structures were just amazing to behold. When I got back in the boat I really felt like I had accomplished so much. I was really quite proud of myself. This was our last stop of the day, and I felt like I finished the day with no regrets. It was a very good day.
We returned to The Village, had a bite to eat, and came home completely knackered. Now I am typing this in bed, nursing a sun burn (despite repeat applications of sunscreen) and a massive headache that I can’t seem to shake. And, still, it was worth it. A very good day.
I'm baaaacckk.
Well, thanks to several of you expressing disappointment in the blog's hiatus, I have decided to resume with my writing. Of course, this also makes me happy since I was miserable not writing. I will, however, try to be careful to censor myself more than before. Please bear with me as I work on instilling filters for my thoughts. Those of you who know me know that I am not very good at filtering.
So, perk up your ears (er, eyes) and get ready for more entries to come. And THANK YOU to everyone who sent me such kind words during the hiatus. You all rock.
So, perk up your ears (er, eyes) and get ready for more entries to come. And THANK YOU to everyone who sent me such kind words during the hiatus. You all rock.
10 July, 2011
Regretfully ...
I am sad to inform that due to some unintentional circumstances I will be taking a hiatus from writing on this blog. I have not yet decided if this hiatus will be temporary or permanent. For those of you who have been gracious and supportive enough to keep up with these entries, I would like to sincerely thank you, and to let you know that having you travel with me has been one of the best parts of the journey. If you would still like to hear from me, you can reach me via email or facebook. If I have managed to offend any of you in the writing out of my feelings and impressions, then I whole-heartedly apologize. I wish you all continued blessings on your own personal journeys.
-melanie
-melanie
22 June, 2011
days leading up to the Solstice
Okay, let's see if I can play a quick game of catch up. When last I left you, I was ruminating on my day of emotional release. The next day I awoke feeling completely renewed. I was regularly overwhelmed with sensations of gratitude and joy and of great fortune for my current nomadic existence. During the rare moment when I would start to respond to some small stimulus in the negative .. which, sadly, has been my knee-jerk Pavlovian reaction ... I would just remind myself of what I would likely be doing if I was still back in NC going through the motions of that mostly stale and droopy life. That would instantly revive my sense of gratitude and happiness. And, since, I have been consistently reminding myself how lucky I am to be living this new life ... to be experiencing newness on so many levels and to be growing in ways that really inspire and fulfill and uplift me.
At the end of the last post I mentioned my adventures in food prepping in an ill-equipped kitchen. Turns out the guest house kitchen is only equipped with a hot plate and a microwave, a very limited supply of knives, some plates of varying sizes (no bowls), and only one pot for cooking that I could find. So, I was able to make my millet, but couldn't saute any of my vegetables since there wasn't a pan in which to do the deed. So, I had millet and salads ... a lot. I did crack open my first young coconut with only a very little spillage! The kefir I made was so-so, and the kefir cheese that I tried to make without the proper container did not at all turn out as hoped. In fact, I think I may have concocted some new and exotic type of non-dairy bleu cheese. It smelled exactly like a good, pungent bleu. Unfortunately, though, it didn't taste anywhere near as delicious, so I tossed it. Oh well. Better luck next time. I will have to get some grains and do it properly.
On Friday, we finished up our last day of school. Our second level testing took considerably longer than the Level 1, so we were pretty knackered by the end of the day, but we all passed. Eugenie, Charlye and I "graduated" from Level 2 with our certificates in hand. Yay!
Saturday morning I met Eugenie for our first round of spa treatments at the Janrawee House Spa. We both got the "Detox" treatment (colon therapy), Herbal Steam, and Oil Massage. Eugenie also received a Mineral Milk Bath and a Full Body Exfoliation treatment. Afterwards we both felt very light and clean. We also felt tired and quiet, so we decided to go back to our respective abodes and just relax and recover for the rest of the day. I had hoped to meet my friend Vasae that afternoon for an Acro-Yoga "flying yoga" workshop in the Old City Center, but was feeling much too Yin for that kind of energetic Yang activity. She went and gave it high marks. Maybe I'll catch it next time. Vasae is another woman I met at school. She was taking Level 1 while we were taking Level 2. She's really nice and I felt a kindred connection to her very quickly. She's a bit more free-spirited than I am yet. I hope to see her again before I leave, but if I don't, I feel glad to have met her.
Sunday was my big shopping day. I left Chaba House at noon and took a tuk-tuk to the Wararot Market. (This is the market where all the locals shop. It's open every day from very early in the morning to around 9pm or so.) Wararot is a very large market that is partially located indoors. It also sidles up to and kind of melds into the flower market where you can get fresh cut flowers as well as fresh flower garlands and such for altar decoration. Due to the expansiveness of the place, and the crowds of locals and tourists alike, the Wararot Market can be very overwhelming to the senses. I puttered around for about an hour or so, but that was about all I could take. From there I just walked on over to the Old City Center. First I found a postcard shop. I have been looking for postcards everywhere, and, for whatever reason, have not been able to find any. So, I was overjoyed to find this shop. They even had vintage Thai postcards that were beautiful, but they were only from Bangkok, so I didn't get any. (I'm keeping it real with only postcards from Chiang Mai.) The shopkeeper even hooked me up with the appropriate stamps for the cards so I could mail them without the hassle of searching out a post office. (Though it turns out there is a post office just a few blocks from my guest house.)
There was a sweet little cafe/coffee house next to the post card shop, so I decided to while away some time in there with some lunch. The cafe also houses an adventure tour business and a language study business. I was the only person in the place for a while. (My time table seems to be out of sync of that of the Thais.) The proprietress is a cute little tea sandwich of a lady named Petchara. She is very tiny and has a super smile. Her English is impeccable. She asked where I was from, and told me she had worked with the US Peace Corps a lot when they were here many years ago. We chatted for a while before she disappeared into the kitchen. She returned many minutes later with a steaming hot bowl of spicy vegetarian galangal soup and a plate of freshly made rice. It was delicious. I mean, really delicious. I could tell that she had really touched this food with a bit of her own magick. It was very spirit warming ... and that wasn't just the spicy peppers! A couple more guests came in while I was eating ... clearly they were regulars ... a Western man and a Thai woman. (That seems to be de rigueur here.) I took my time eating, savoring every sweet and spicy moment, every zing of lime and lemongrass, every zip of galangal, every crunch of carrot and cauliflower. I tried not to slurp too zealously for fear of making a spectacle of myself. I was in public, after all. Plus, I was in no hurry to end the experience. I had all the time in the world, and I, for once, allowed myself to just languor over a simple, yet ambrosial, meal. Before I finally left the cafe, I made sure to get a photo of myself with Petchara. One of her employee's took the shot for us, and Petchara made me promise to email her a copy of it.
I did.
After lunch I just walked up and down the street biding my time window shopping until the Sunday market got up and going. I had a couple hours to spend in this way. But they weren't wasted. I discovered a couple of really charming little boutiques that I would likely never have found otherwise. First I found a shop that sells handmade cotton clothes, appropriately called Chiang Mai Cotton. They are very simple, yet very chic. I got myself a pair of palazzo-style pants and a lovely deep purple blouse. The shop girl was extremely congenial, and she, too, spoke impeccable English. (I made sure to thank her for making the effort to speak to me in my language since I was unable to speak to her in hers. I felt really lame about that.)
From one charming shop to another ... I stumbled upon what I think must be my favorite shop in Chiang Mai: Things Called Art. It is run by an artist who makes really lovely paintings of elephants, birds, cats and such. Each has a very whimsical quality to it, which is, of course, why I fell in love with his work. He has other gifts and handmade treasures in his shop, as well. I ended up buying a glazed elephant figure for my dad, a silver elephant slide/charm for my mom, some sweet bunny earrings for myself, and a small painting for myself. I rarely allow myself to buy art for some ridiculous reason, but I was really taken by this simple, but fanciful, painting of a cat. Go figure. So, I decided to treat myself, and reminded myself that I like spending my money in ways that support artists and creative endeavors. Then I wondered why I had kept myself from buying more art in the past.
All this shopping was making me thirsty, so I popped into a Mr. Juicy shop for a yummy juice concoction. I don't remember exactly what I got in mine, but it was tropically (yes, I made up that word) and so yummy and refreshing.
Still wandering around pre-market, my feet brought me to another sweet "gifty" boutique. I can't remember the name of the place, but I got some dangly wooden earrings here. It's strange: I never really wore earrings in the States, but this day I bought two pair! And I've been wearing them every day since! Strange, indeed.
At this point, market vendors were beginning to sprout all along the street. I spotted a little side street with all its vendors up and ready to sell, so I made a bee-line for it. I was happy to score some really great gauzy pants with built-in skirt-like panels in the front and back that can be made long or short per the wearer's mood. (Yes, I know, that's a difficult description to follow. I will try to post a photo of them sometime soon. Suffice it to say, I love these pants.)
After all this shopping I was feeling pretty happy with myself. I had managed to spend my money carefully on things that really made me happy (or I hoped would really make someone else happy). I had remained budget conscious throughout all my purchasing decisions. And I managed to check two (out of three) gifts off my list. But, there was still one more gift to get. I still needed to get something for my sister. And I really wanted it to be good. I was already sending her back some Thai fisherman pants, but I wanted to get her something else a little nicer. She had only asked me for pants, and I know she's trying to purge her home of clutter, so that meant no tchotchkes. I considered a pair of silver elephant earrings from the artist's shop, but she doesn't really wear earrings much, either. (Save the pair of diamond studs our mom gave her.) I looked and looked for some pants that I thought she would really like, and couldn't find anything! There were several "almosts" but no "YES's". Finally, I decided to take one last stroll down one of the side streets of the market before leaving. (It was nearing 5:30pm, now, and I'd been shopping pretty much since noon!) Then, like a gift from the gods, I saw them. The skies parted. The sun shone down in glorious rays of illumination. I heard a faint trace of angels' chorus on the breeze. And I saw them: Sister's pants. They are quite lovely, really. They are olive green with a sort of tribal/floral patterned waistband in greens, blue-greens and creams. And they are loose and flowy. Very bohemian ... but in an elegant way. I hope she likes them. But, if she doesn't, then I will be happy to take them. (But, I swear I bought them for her. And I really do hope she loves them!) So, that was my Sunday. Sunday, Shopping Sunday.
Monday I didn't do too much. Slept in, then lounged in the morning. (After my yoga, of course.) Then I hoofed it to the Central Mall to get some cash from the bank and some groceries from the supermarket. As I was walking back to Chaba House with my two bags of groceries, a man pulled over and offered me a ride ... "for flee ... no money!" I politely declined his offer. I was having trouble deciding if he was being kind or creepy. There wasn't a distinct vibe emerging. So, I am deciding that he was being kind. I mean, I was a farang (foreign) girl walking along the superhighway carrying two pretty heavy bags of groceries going who knows where (from his perspective). I must have looked tired. And he was catching me as I was almost home, so I was probably sweaty and covered in a fine film of exhaust sprayed from the many cars, trucks and motos that had passed me along the way. Now that I think about it, I probably looked kinda sad and scraggly. Yeah, I'm going with the Kindness scenario.
Today things took a turn. To use the vernacular of Mary Poppins, the winds have changed. It's appropriate, too, since it's the Solstice and all. Litha, or Summer Solstice, is a celebration on the Wheel of the Year that marks the pinnacle of the Sun's brilliance. It's the longest day and, therefore, the shortest night of the year. From here until Yule (Winter Solstice) the Sun's power will wane and the dark aspects of the Moon will begin to heighten. What all of this portends, in simplistic terms, is that after today, Nature begins a slow and steady shift toward a more introspective, receptive and self-nurturing (yin) way of being following the more out-going, liberal, external (yang) energy that takes full bloom in Spring. What does all this have to do with my travels, you wonder? Well, a couple of things, really. One, is that I made a rather sudden change in my travel plans today. I decided to shorten my stay in Thailand and rescheduled my flight to Pohnpei a week earlier than originally planned. I now leave Thailand this Thursday morning. That's right .. in two days. It all happened really quickly and with significantly fewer fees than I was expecting. So, I consider it a fortuitous decision. Secondly, I have been feeling a very quiet, but persistent, need to reconnect to my spiritual practices and studies. I've been feeling this for several months now, and I think it's interesting that, as I begin to really pay attention to the world around me and my actions and reactions within it, that I keep making decisions or embarking on journeys on very specific spiritually appropriate days. For instance, I mentioned in an earlier post that I hopped my flight for Thailand on the New Moon. And I was slated to be hopping my flight for Pohnpei on the New Moon as well. But when I changed it, I didn't negate the magick of that occurrence, but, rather, added significance to it by making the change on one of Nature's spiritually significant days ... one that marks the beginning of a return to the more spiritual side of Self. It all seems very appropriate and synchronistic to me.
So, today was spent mostly trying to get myself organized to leave so quickly. I walked to Spa Mantra to make my appointment for tomorrow afternoon. Then I stopped in at Satva Yoga and had a kombucha and one of Tukta's delectable juice blends. I also ordered a Thai massage mat from her. She was kind enough to have it ordered as a rush delivery, and the lady who makes them was able to get it to me by 5pm tonight. While there, I was happily surprised to see Eugenie and Charlye who were coming in for a very late breakfast. We made dinner plans for tonight, but through some confusion in our communications, we missed each other, so I am hoping we can do dinner tomorrow night. While there, we also got to talk a while with Freddy the Yoga Instructor/Massage Therapist and Andy the Acupuncturist. I wish I would have known about Andy before now ... I would have loved to receive an acupuncture treatment before leaving. Ah well, next time, maybe. I also packed up most of my stuff to see where I stand on the luggage situation. I will be checking not only the big fish shoulder bag (that I had to begrudgingly check on the way here), but also a yoga mat and a Thai massage mat. I hope I don't get charged to check these pieces, but I suppose it's better than trying to arrange to ship them to the island. My backpack is nice and light and I'll have a little canvas bag with my computer and books in it for carry-on. The one bummer is that I just bought all this food at the supermarket, and am not going to be able to eat it all or fit it in my luggage. I'm eating as much as I can of the perishables. Then, I think, I'm going to see if Eugenie, Charlye or any of the folks here at Chaba House would like to have it. I really hope it doesn't go to waste.
This morning, I got to chat with some of the other guests here at Chaba House. I saw Louisa (from Australia) briefly at breakfast. Mariano (from Argentina) was there, too, and he stayed for a while while I had my breakfast. We talked of my travels, and his travels and our "same same, but different" Thai massage training programs. Then he told me of the Spanish woman he met in Argentina several months ago. They spent three months together falling in love, then she had to go home. He arrived here in Thailand from a month with her in Madrid. Now they are trying to figure out how to navigate the relationship from here. He has the most luminous smile when he talks of her. I hope they are able to make things work so they are both fulfilled and happy. A little later, I got to chat for a bit with Sam (from Great Britain), who is doing a two-day meditation retreat, which, if it goes well, might lead to a four-day meditation retreat. I wish him well on his spiritual path. I immediately liked Sam the first moment I spoke with him. He is very kind and his spirit is just warm, and gentle and lovely. Saw Patricia (from France) for a moment, too. She just got back from the south yesterday, and was heading off to Pai (north-ish) today. Last night I met Werner, a massage therapist from Hawaii. He was great fun to chat with ... very personable and generous. I do wish that I could have gotten to spend some more time with these folks.
Tomorrow is my last full day. I will go to Satva Yoga Cafe for lunch, then to my big spa day at Spa Mantra. I'm not sure what time I'll be getting out of there, but I'm guessing around dinner time. I am hoping to meet up with Charlye and Eugenie for dinner. Then I'll just come home and do the last of my packing and set my alarm for early a.m. Then it's off to the airport .. again!
I very much would like to return to Thailand. My earlier departure is in no way a reflection on this place. I just felt like I had gotten what I was supposed to get from this visit. I would like to come back when I can plan an extended stay. I want to study a while with the Thai massage master, Pichest. I would love to take some Thai language classes. I would like to explore more than just Chiang Mai, for sure. It's nice here, but it's a little too "big city" for me. I'd love to explore some of the smaller villages. So, I plan to come back at some point. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Thailand has gently crept up on me and nestled its way into my heart. I am grateful for my time here.
And now I'm going to bed. It's late, and I'm tired, and I have much to do before I leave. Have a happy Solstice, wherever you are! And sweet dreams!
PS: Photos will have to be added a little later. It's way too late to post them tonight! xoxo!
At the end of the last post I mentioned my adventures in food prepping in an ill-equipped kitchen. Turns out the guest house kitchen is only equipped with a hot plate and a microwave, a very limited supply of knives, some plates of varying sizes (no bowls), and only one pot for cooking that I could find. So, I was able to make my millet, but couldn't saute any of my vegetables since there wasn't a pan in which to do the deed. So, I had millet and salads ... a lot. I did crack open my first young coconut with only a very little spillage! The kefir I made was so-so, and the kefir cheese that I tried to make without the proper container did not at all turn out as hoped. In fact, I think I may have concocted some new and exotic type of non-dairy bleu cheese. It smelled exactly like a good, pungent bleu. Unfortunately, though, it didn't taste anywhere near as delicious, so I tossed it. Oh well. Better luck next time. I will have to get some grains and do it properly.
On Friday, we finished up our last day of school. Our second level testing took considerably longer than the Level 1, so we were pretty knackered by the end of the day, but we all passed. Eugenie, Charlye and I "graduated" from Level 2 with our certificates in hand. Yay!
Saturday morning I met Eugenie for our first round of spa treatments at the Janrawee House Spa. We both got the "Detox" treatment (colon therapy), Herbal Steam, and Oil Massage. Eugenie also received a Mineral Milk Bath and a Full Body Exfoliation treatment. Afterwards we both felt very light and clean. We also felt tired and quiet, so we decided to go back to our respective abodes and just relax and recover for the rest of the day. I had hoped to meet my friend Vasae that afternoon for an Acro-Yoga "flying yoga" workshop in the Old City Center, but was feeling much too Yin for that kind of energetic Yang activity. She went and gave it high marks. Maybe I'll catch it next time. Vasae is another woman I met at school. She was taking Level 1 while we were taking Level 2. She's really nice and I felt a kindred connection to her very quickly. She's a bit more free-spirited than I am yet. I hope to see her again before I leave, but if I don't, I feel glad to have met her.
Sunday was my big shopping day. I left Chaba House at noon and took a tuk-tuk to the Wararot Market. (This is the market where all the locals shop. It's open every day from very early in the morning to around 9pm or so.) Wararot is a very large market that is partially located indoors. It also sidles up to and kind of melds into the flower market where you can get fresh cut flowers as well as fresh flower garlands and such for altar decoration. Due to the expansiveness of the place, and the crowds of locals and tourists alike, the Wararot Market can be very overwhelming to the senses. I puttered around for about an hour or so, but that was about all I could take. From there I just walked on over to the Old City Center. First I found a postcard shop. I have been looking for postcards everywhere, and, for whatever reason, have not been able to find any. So, I was overjoyed to find this shop. They even had vintage Thai postcards that were beautiful, but they were only from Bangkok, so I didn't get any. (I'm keeping it real with only postcards from Chiang Mai.) The shopkeeper even hooked me up with the appropriate stamps for the cards so I could mail them without the hassle of searching out a post office. (Though it turns out there is a post office just a few blocks from my guest house.)
There was a sweet little cafe/coffee house next to the post card shop, so I decided to while away some time in there with some lunch. The cafe also houses an adventure tour business and a language study business. I was the only person in the place for a while. (My time table seems to be out of sync of that of the Thais.) The proprietress is a cute little tea sandwich of a lady named Petchara. She is very tiny and has a super smile. Her English is impeccable. She asked where I was from, and told me she had worked with the US Peace Corps a lot when they were here many years ago. We chatted for a while before she disappeared into the kitchen. She returned many minutes later with a steaming hot bowl of spicy vegetarian galangal soup and a plate of freshly made rice. It was delicious. I mean, really delicious. I could tell that she had really touched this food with a bit of her own magick. It was very spirit warming ... and that wasn't just the spicy peppers! A couple more guests came in while I was eating ... clearly they were regulars ... a Western man and a Thai woman. (That seems to be de rigueur here.) I took my time eating, savoring every sweet and spicy moment, every zing of lime and lemongrass, every zip of galangal, every crunch of carrot and cauliflower. I tried not to slurp too zealously for fear of making a spectacle of myself. I was in public, after all. Plus, I was in no hurry to end the experience. I had all the time in the world, and I, for once, allowed myself to just languor over a simple, yet ambrosial, meal. Before I finally left the cafe, I made sure to get a photo of myself with Petchara. One of her employee's took the shot for us, and Petchara made me promise to email her a copy of it.
I did.
After lunch I just walked up and down the street biding my time window shopping until the Sunday market got up and going. I had a couple hours to spend in this way. But they weren't wasted. I discovered a couple of really charming little boutiques that I would likely never have found otherwise. First I found a shop that sells handmade cotton clothes, appropriately called Chiang Mai Cotton. They are very simple, yet very chic. I got myself a pair of palazzo-style pants and a lovely deep purple blouse. The shop girl was extremely congenial, and she, too, spoke impeccable English. (I made sure to thank her for making the effort to speak to me in my language since I was unable to speak to her in hers. I felt really lame about that.)
From one charming shop to another ... I stumbled upon what I think must be my favorite shop in Chiang Mai: Things Called Art. It is run by an artist who makes really lovely paintings of elephants, birds, cats and such. Each has a very whimsical quality to it, which is, of course, why I fell in love with his work. He has other gifts and handmade treasures in his shop, as well. I ended up buying a glazed elephant figure for my dad, a silver elephant slide/charm for my mom, some sweet bunny earrings for myself, and a small painting for myself. I rarely allow myself to buy art for some ridiculous reason, but I was really taken by this simple, but fanciful, painting of a cat. Go figure. So, I decided to treat myself, and reminded myself that I like spending my money in ways that support artists and creative endeavors. Then I wondered why I had kept myself from buying more art in the past.
All this shopping was making me thirsty, so I popped into a Mr. Juicy shop for a yummy juice concoction. I don't remember exactly what I got in mine, but it was tropically (yes, I made up that word) and so yummy and refreshing.
Still wandering around pre-market, my feet brought me to another sweet "gifty" boutique. I can't remember the name of the place, but I got some dangly wooden earrings here. It's strange: I never really wore earrings in the States, but this day I bought two pair! And I've been wearing them every day since! Strange, indeed.
At this point, market vendors were beginning to sprout all along the street. I spotted a little side street with all its vendors up and ready to sell, so I made a bee-line for it. I was happy to score some really great gauzy pants with built-in skirt-like panels in the front and back that can be made long or short per the wearer's mood. (Yes, I know, that's a difficult description to follow. I will try to post a photo of them sometime soon. Suffice it to say, I love these pants.)
After all this shopping I was feeling pretty happy with myself. I had managed to spend my money carefully on things that really made me happy (or I hoped would really make someone else happy). I had remained budget conscious throughout all my purchasing decisions. And I managed to check two (out of three) gifts off my list. But, there was still one more gift to get. I still needed to get something for my sister. And I really wanted it to be good. I was already sending her back some Thai fisherman pants, but I wanted to get her something else a little nicer. She had only asked me for pants, and I know she's trying to purge her home of clutter, so that meant no tchotchkes. I considered a pair of silver elephant earrings from the artist's shop, but she doesn't really wear earrings much, either. (Save the pair of diamond studs our mom gave her.) I looked and looked for some pants that I thought she would really like, and couldn't find anything! There were several "almosts" but no "YES's". Finally, I decided to take one last stroll down one of the side streets of the market before leaving. (It was nearing 5:30pm, now, and I'd been shopping pretty much since noon!) Then, like a gift from the gods, I saw them. The skies parted. The sun shone down in glorious rays of illumination. I heard a faint trace of angels' chorus on the breeze. And I saw them: Sister's pants. They are quite lovely, really. They are olive green with a sort of tribal/floral patterned waistband in greens, blue-greens and creams. And they are loose and flowy. Very bohemian ... but in an elegant way. I hope she likes them. But, if she doesn't, then I will be happy to take them. (But, I swear I bought them for her. And I really do hope she loves them!) So, that was my Sunday. Sunday, Shopping Sunday.
Monday I didn't do too much. Slept in, then lounged in the morning. (After my yoga, of course.) Then I hoofed it to the Central Mall to get some cash from the bank and some groceries from the supermarket. As I was walking back to Chaba House with my two bags of groceries, a man pulled over and offered me a ride ... "for flee ... no money!" I politely declined his offer. I was having trouble deciding if he was being kind or creepy. There wasn't a distinct vibe emerging. So, I am deciding that he was being kind. I mean, I was a farang (foreign) girl walking along the superhighway carrying two pretty heavy bags of groceries going who knows where (from his perspective). I must have looked tired. And he was catching me as I was almost home, so I was probably sweaty and covered in a fine film of exhaust sprayed from the many cars, trucks and motos that had passed me along the way. Now that I think about it, I probably looked kinda sad and scraggly. Yeah, I'm going with the Kindness scenario.
Today things took a turn. To use the vernacular of Mary Poppins, the winds have changed. It's appropriate, too, since it's the Solstice and all. Litha, or Summer Solstice, is a celebration on the Wheel of the Year that marks the pinnacle of the Sun's brilliance. It's the longest day and, therefore, the shortest night of the year. From here until Yule (Winter Solstice) the Sun's power will wane and the dark aspects of the Moon will begin to heighten. What all of this portends, in simplistic terms, is that after today, Nature begins a slow and steady shift toward a more introspective, receptive and self-nurturing (yin) way of being following the more out-going, liberal, external (yang) energy that takes full bloom in Spring. What does all this have to do with my travels, you wonder? Well, a couple of things, really. One, is that I made a rather sudden change in my travel plans today. I decided to shorten my stay in Thailand and rescheduled my flight to Pohnpei a week earlier than originally planned. I now leave Thailand this Thursday morning. That's right .. in two days. It all happened really quickly and with significantly fewer fees than I was expecting. So, I consider it a fortuitous decision. Secondly, I have been feeling a very quiet, but persistent, need to reconnect to my spiritual practices and studies. I've been feeling this for several months now, and I think it's interesting that, as I begin to really pay attention to the world around me and my actions and reactions within it, that I keep making decisions or embarking on journeys on very specific spiritually appropriate days. For instance, I mentioned in an earlier post that I hopped my flight for Thailand on the New Moon. And I was slated to be hopping my flight for Pohnpei on the New Moon as well. But when I changed it, I didn't negate the magick of that occurrence, but, rather, added significance to it by making the change on one of Nature's spiritually significant days ... one that marks the beginning of a return to the more spiritual side of Self. It all seems very appropriate and synchronistic to me.
So, today was spent mostly trying to get myself organized to leave so quickly. I walked to Spa Mantra to make my appointment for tomorrow afternoon. Then I stopped in at Satva Yoga and had a kombucha and one of Tukta's delectable juice blends. I also ordered a Thai massage mat from her. She was kind enough to have it ordered as a rush delivery, and the lady who makes them was able to get it to me by 5pm tonight. While there, I was happily surprised to see Eugenie and Charlye who were coming in for a very late breakfast. We made dinner plans for tonight, but through some confusion in our communications, we missed each other, so I am hoping we can do dinner tomorrow night. While there, we also got to talk a while with Freddy the Yoga Instructor/Massage Therapist and Andy the Acupuncturist. I wish I would have known about Andy before now ... I would have loved to receive an acupuncture treatment before leaving. Ah well, next time, maybe. I also packed up most of my stuff to see where I stand on the luggage situation. I will be checking not only the big fish shoulder bag (that I had to begrudgingly check on the way here), but also a yoga mat and a Thai massage mat. I hope I don't get charged to check these pieces, but I suppose it's better than trying to arrange to ship them to the island. My backpack is nice and light and I'll have a little canvas bag with my computer and books in it for carry-on. The one bummer is that I just bought all this food at the supermarket, and am not going to be able to eat it all or fit it in my luggage. I'm eating as much as I can of the perishables. Then, I think, I'm going to see if Eugenie, Charlye or any of the folks here at Chaba House would like to have it. I really hope it doesn't go to waste.
This morning, I got to chat with some of the other guests here at Chaba House. I saw Louisa (from Australia) briefly at breakfast. Mariano (from Argentina) was there, too, and he stayed for a while while I had my breakfast. We talked of my travels, and his travels and our "same same, but different" Thai massage training programs. Then he told me of the Spanish woman he met in Argentina several months ago. They spent three months together falling in love, then she had to go home. He arrived here in Thailand from a month with her in Madrid. Now they are trying to figure out how to navigate the relationship from here. He has the most luminous smile when he talks of her. I hope they are able to make things work so they are both fulfilled and happy. A little later, I got to chat for a bit with Sam (from Great Britain), who is doing a two-day meditation retreat, which, if it goes well, might lead to a four-day meditation retreat. I wish him well on his spiritual path. I immediately liked Sam the first moment I spoke with him. He is very kind and his spirit is just warm, and gentle and lovely. Saw Patricia (from France) for a moment, too. She just got back from the south yesterday, and was heading off to Pai (north-ish) today. Last night I met Werner, a massage therapist from Hawaii. He was great fun to chat with ... very personable and generous. I do wish that I could have gotten to spend some more time with these folks.
Tomorrow is my last full day. I will go to Satva Yoga Cafe for lunch, then to my big spa day at Spa Mantra. I'm not sure what time I'll be getting out of there, but I'm guessing around dinner time. I am hoping to meet up with Charlye and Eugenie for dinner. Then I'll just come home and do the last of my packing and set my alarm for early a.m. Then it's off to the airport .. again!
I very much would like to return to Thailand. My earlier departure is in no way a reflection on this place. I just felt like I had gotten what I was supposed to get from this visit. I would like to come back when I can plan an extended stay. I want to study a while with the Thai massage master, Pichest. I would love to take some Thai language classes. I would like to explore more than just Chiang Mai, for sure. It's nice here, but it's a little too "big city" for me. I'd love to explore some of the smaller villages. So, I plan to come back at some point. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Thailand has gently crept up on me and nestled its way into my heart. I am grateful for my time here.
And now I'm going to bed. It's late, and I'm tired, and I have much to do before I leave. Have a happy Solstice, wherever you are! And sweet dreams!
PS: Photos will have to be added a little later. It's way too late to post them tonight! xoxo!
14 June, 2011
My Guest House
Today was a challenging day for me. It started out normally enough, if a bit more singed with fatigue than usual. As I was waking I was gifted with a call from my beautiful Sister. That part was nice. But I should have noticed that something was 'off' when I was having difficulty expressing how excited I was to hear from her.
I started a new (simple) yoga practice last night. I am committing to a simplified form of the Chandra Namaskar (Moon Salutation) in the evenings before bed and an equally simple version of Surya Namaskar (Sun Salutation) in the mornings upon waking. (I only write this now, in case I forget later.)
So ... back to my story .. I completed my morning Surya Namaskar practice. It felt really good to be moving my body in these familiar ways again. But I was still feeling uncharacteristically sluggish. As I arrived in the dining hut for breakfast, several of the newer friendly faces were there to greet me: Australian Louisa, Argentinian Mariano, British Sam, as well as a new fellow from Brazil whose name escapes me right now. Normally I have been engaging in conversation with these folks over breakfast, and it's been really nice. But, today, for some reason, I felt totally unable (unwilling?) to engage. Mr. Pathom's helper, Three, brought out a Thai breakfast instead of the simple noodle soup I'd requested for my ongoing morning meals. (This was not his fault. I think Mr. Pathom has a really hard time serving me the same boring dish every day. He's an excellent chef, so I can understand, but, right now I just can't seem to tolerate that kind of food in the morning.) So, I had a few bites, made some mumbly small talk, and then lamely excused myself by saying I was running late. (I was not.) I was starting to feel some kind of unnamed anxiety about being around people today. But being unnamed, I couldn't really place what the feeling was ... it was just kind of a vague, blurry awareness of something 'icky'. It was almost as if I had walked through a cobweb of negative energy, and, try though I might, I wasn't able to shake it off my fingers. So ... this is how my day began.
I continued about my morning ... walked toward school ... stopped in the Satva Yoga Cafe for breakfast where Charlye, Eugenie and I had arranged to meet. I was the first of us to arrive, so I sat down and ordered a Lemon Mint Honey Ginger juice. (Tukta, the proprietress, makes amazing fresh juices.) Despite the deliciously frothy and effervescent glass of liquid sunshine Tukta brought me, I was still feeling gray and cloudy. Although, I don't think, at this point, I was fully aware of what was happening yet. Once Charlye and Eugenie arrived, we started chatting, and I found myself re-entering a mini-rant about school that I'd already laid on Eugenie the afternoon prior. It was then that I really realized that something was amiss. I was grumpy. In fact, I wasn't just grumpy, I was feeling kinda angry. And the more I sat with and studied my feelings, the more irate I became. As the light bulb erupted over my head, I relayed the information aloud to my companions. That helped to subdue it a little. Just naming it, I guess, was comforting enough to calm it a little. I acknowledged my feelings. (A solid Step 1.) Eugenie and Charlye were great at both receiving the information and not trying to help me "get happier". (Thanks for that, ladies.) That being the case, I was able to create a sort of space or inner container for those feelings that I hoped would allow them to exist and breathe and be honoured, but would keep them from spontaneously leaping out at some poor unsuspecting (and undeserving) bystander.
As the three of us conversed further over breakfast, I realized that I was feeling a HUGE resistance to going to school today. I didn't really know why, but I DID NOT want to go. That, in turn, made me believe that the best thing for me to do would be to go. This may sound completely ridiculous to many of you reading this, but I often feel that the things (or people) that push our buttons the most are usually the teachers of the lessons we most need to learn.
This is where things got even weirder. Charlye, Eugenie and I were late getting to school. (We got our food a little later than planned, and decided to enjoy breakfast rather than rush back for the morning group exercising.) That was actually a good thing ... for me, at least. Because once our lesson began, my anger began to mutate. It was happening in a simultaneously super slow motion and lightning quick action. (If you think it's freaky to read that, just imagine how bizarre it was to experience it.)
Before I could wrap my head around what was happening, my heart whispered to me that she was going to send me some sadness now.
And, so she did.
I became suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. It was powerful, yet it was soft and unassuming, as well. I tried to internally hold myself in my own space while, externally, I was listening to lecture, watching demonstration and taking notes. When it was time to practice the day's lesson, I asked my partner, Roberto, if I could receive the work first, and, fortunately, he agreed. (Roberto is a very kind man. I like him a lot.) During the practice session, I began to cry a little on several occasions. It was very soft and quiet, this crying ... unusual for me ... I would just every now and again feel my cheeks getting wet with tears. Then, almost as suddenly as it had arrived, Sadness departed. Then I was just tired.
I made it through the day, and it was not altogether unpleasant. It was more an interesting experience in awareness to witness this emotional purging. My body has been in detox for a little while now. My subconscious released its toxic debris through all that violent and vivid dreaming last week. Now, it seems my old unexpressed emotions are clearing out. I do feel lighter now as I prepare for my evening yoga and bed. I feel as if the fires of Anger burned up old negative energies lingering inside my body's nooks and crannies. Then Sadness came through and washed out the remains with her salty waters. Now I feel, well, still tired (emotional clearing is exhausting work!), but very light.
As I reflected on the day's experiences, I was reminded of Rumi's amazing poem, The Guest House. I re-read it just before I wrote this post, and it spoke very clearly and directly to my heart, so I have posted it below to share it with you. I hope you get from it what you need.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
~ Rumi ~
PS: More mundane adventures to come soon ... including: my first time cutting open a coconut; my first attempts at making young coconut water kefir and kefir yogurt (in an ill-equipped guest room); making dinner in a makeshift kitchen with limited tools; and, in the not-so-distant future, my first Thai colonic! (Stay tuned ...)
I started a new (simple) yoga practice last night. I am committing to a simplified form of the Chandra Namaskar (Moon Salutation) in the evenings before bed and an equally simple version of Surya Namaskar (Sun Salutation) in the mornings upon waking. (I only write this now, in case I forget later.)
So ... back to my story .. I completed my morning Surya Namaskar practice. It felt really good to be moving my body in these familiar ways again. But I was still feeling uncharacteristically sluggish. As I arrived in the dining hut for breakfast, several of the newer friendly faces were there to greet me: Australian Louisa, Argentinian Mariano, British Sam, as well as a new fellow from Brazil whose name escapes me right now. Normally I have been engaging in conversation with these folks over breakfast, and it's been really nice. But, today, for some reason, I felt totally unable (unwilling?) to engage. Mr. Pathom's helper, Three, brought out a Thai breakfast instead of the simple noodle soup I'd requested for my ongoing morning meals. (This was not his fault. I think Mr. Pathom has a really hard time serving me the same boring dish every day. He's an excellent chef, so I can understand, but, right now I just can't seem to tolerate that kind of food in the morning.) So, I had a few bites, made some mumbly small talk, and then lamely excused myself by saying I was running late. (I was not.) I was starting to feel some kind of unnamed anxiety about being around people today. But being unnamed, I couldn't really place what the feeling was ... it was just kind of a vague, blurry awareness of something 'icky'. It was almost as if I had walked through a cobweb of negative energy, and, try though I might, I wasn't able to shake it off my fingers. So ... this is how my day began.
I continued about my morning ... walked toward school ... stopped in the Satva Yoga Cafe for breakfast where Charlye, Eugenie and I had arranged to meet. I was the first of us to arrive, so I sat down and ordered a Lemon Mint Honey Ginger juice. (Tukta, the proprietress, makes amazing fresh juices.) Despite the deliciously frothy and effervescent glass of liquid sunshine Tukta brought me, I was still feeling gray and cloudy. Although, I don't think, at this point, I was fully aware of what was happening yet. Once Charlye and Eugenie arrived, we started chatting, and I found myself re-entering a mini-rant about school that I'd already laid on Eugenie the afternoon prior. It was then that I really realized that something was amiss. I was grumpy. In fact, I wasn't just grumpy, I was feeling kinda angry. And the more I sat with and studied my feelings, the more irate I became. As the light bulb erupted over my head, I relayed the information aloud to my companions. That helped to subdue it a little. Just naming it, I guess, was comforting enough to calm it a little. I acknowledged my feelings. (A solid Step 1.) Eugenie and Charlye were great at both receiving the information and not trying to help me "get happier". (Thanks for that, ladies.) That being the case, I was able to create a sort of space or inner container for those feelings that I hoped would allow them to exist and breathe and be honoured, but would keep them from spontaneously leaping out at some poor unsuspecting (and undeserving) bystander.
As the three of us conversed further over breakfast, I realized that I was feeling a HUGE resistance to going to school today. I didn't really know why, but I DID NOT want to go. That, in turn, made me believe that the best thing for me to do would be to go. This may sound completely ridiculous to many of you reading this, but I often feel that the things (or people) that push our buttons the most are usually the teachers of the lessons we most need to learn.
This is where things got even weirder. Charlye, Eugenie and I were late getting to school. (We got our food a little later than planned, and decided to enjoy breakfast rather than rush back for the morning group exercising.) That was actually a good thing ... for me, at least. Because once our lesson began, my anger began to mutate. It was happening in a simultaneously super slow motion and lightning quick action. (If you think it's freaky to read that, just imagine how bizarre it was to experience it.)
Before I could wrap my head around what was happening, my heart whispered to me that she was going to send me some sadness now.
And, so she did.
I became suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. It was powerful, yet it was soft and unassuming, as well. I tried to internally hold myself in my own space while, externally, I was listening to lecture, watching demonstration and taking notes. When it was time to practice the day's lesson, I asked my partner, Roberto, if I could receive the work first, and, fortunately, he agreed. (Roberto is a very kind man. I like him a lot.) During the practice session, I began to cry a little on several occasions. It was very soft and quiet, this crying ... unusual for me ... I would just every now and again feel my cheeks getting wet with tears. Then, almost as suddenly as it had arrived, Sadness departed. Then I was just tired.
I made it through the day, and it was not altogether unpleasant. It was more an interesting experience in awareness to witness this emotional purging. My body has been in detox for a little while now. My subconscious released its toxic debris through all that violent and vivid dreaming last week. Now, it seems my old unexpressed emotions are clearing out. I do feel lighter now as I prepare for my evening yoga and bed. I feel as if the fires of Anger burned up old negative energies lingering inside my body's nooks and crannies. Then Sadness came through and washed out the remains with her salty waters. Now I feel, well, still tired (emotional clearing is exhausting work!), but very light.
As I reflected on the day's experiences, I was reminded of Rumi's amazing poem, The Guest House. I re-read it just before I wrote this post, and it spoke very clearly and directly to my heart, so I have posted it below to share it with you. I hope you get from it what you need.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
~ Rumi ~
PS: More mundane adventures to come soon ... including: my first time cutting open a coconut; my first attempts at making young coconut water kefir and kefir yogurt (in an ill-equipped guest room); making dinner in a makeshift kitchen with limited tools; and, in the not-so-distant future, my first Thai colonic! (Stay tuned ...)
The Lotus Awakens
the land of a thousand smiles 
is gifting me with one of my own
no great worries here
no trifling distractions
only Life
and Love
and Smiling
i am opening ...
...softly ...
gently ...
as a Lotus
and i am smiling
i am softening like
a honey sweet whisper
on the breeze
i am smiling
i am letting Life
wash over me
like a cool
inviting
river
and i'm smiling
i am greeting my Self
from the inside out
as the seed
can see
the flower
i am smiling
and as i smile
i. become. Light.
no great worries here
no trifling distractions
only Life
and Love
and Smiling
i am opening ...
...softly ...
gently ...
as a Lotus
and i am smiling
i am softening like
a honey sweet whisper
on the breeze
i am smiling
i am letting Life
wash over me
like a cool
inviting
river
and i'm smiling
i am greeting my Self
as the seed
can see
the flower
i am smiling
and as i smile
i. become. Light.
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