Playing by the river

This pretty much sums up my time in Vang Vieng.

We read books. We slept. We swam.

Oh and we hired bikes and visited a lagoon. There was no-one else there except these two young boys. One of them had a mask on and would stick his head underwater and walk/swim around until he found something. When he found something, he would jump up and down and yell and make a big noise. He would then emerge with a small fish in hand and throw it up the cliff to his friend/brother waiting on the grass. The fish was always thrown too far and would land with a 'THUD'. The other boy would run to it, pick it up and add it to their stringed collection.

Brian and I were fascinated.

Hunting for fish.

Showing us their kill

5 and a half hours

So 5 and a half hours in a small mini-van along treacherous windy roads lined with steep cliffs is not my idea of an enjoyable way to spend the day. Nevertheless it had to be done I suppose and I have my iPod to thank for 3 things:

1. Keeping me entertained for 5 and a half hours
2. Keeping my mind off throwing up for 5 and a half hours
and 3. Drowning out the sound of the driver's wife throwing up 5 and a half times along the way.

The only good thing to come of the trip is meeting Brian, this pretty low-key guy from Modesto (North of San Francisco) who is on a 3-week holiday from teaching English in Bangkok. When he first got in the van (in Luang Prabang) I pretty much attacked him with questions. And so he's 27 (although I didn't find this out til later) and he lives in a small apartment in Bangkok with no kitchen! He hasn't seen his family in 2 and a half years and clearly misses his 8 year old niece.

Anyhow, he was feeling pretty awful from the drive so after he had sufficiently answered my 40 questions, he curled himself up on the seat and I plugged in my headphones.

***

Arriving in Vang Vieng was not what I expected. Although I couldn't describe what I was expecting.

It's much smaller than Luang Prabang. The streets aren't as well kept, the roads not as wide.

first impressions of Vang Vieng

Smiling happy faces

Aches

I can barely stand up without grimacing. My head hurts. My stomach aches. It feels as though my blood has turned to thick gluggy mud and is weighing every part of me down. I don't feel like doing anything. My body feels fat and swollen.

This sorta sucks. I'm in this seemingly exotic, foreign, exciting place with so much to explore - and the only thing I want to do is lie down in my air-conditioned room, throw-up, sleep and perhaps watch some western television... (cartoon network if I could choose).

I'm having some stomach troubles. I'll spare you the details, but I'm really not managing to hold much down. I try though. And I sleep a lot. For the past couple nights I've had at least 9 hours each night, with a couple of naps during the day.

My diet has been:

7am: thick black coffee. baguette with jam and fried egg.
12:30pm: sticky rice and meat/veges
6pm: same as above with variations on the meat and veges

The sticky rice is really sticky. When I heard that people ate rice with their hands I had pictured a very inconvenient mess of rice grains falling onto laps and spilling onto tables. It turns out the rice is so sticky that it's actually quite inconvenient to eat it with anything but your hands.

I'm in Luang Prabang now. We said goodbye to the village and are now staying in the main town. It's gorgeous here. Apart from the dustiness and the grey skies, it is a beautiful French colonial-feeling wee place. (Not that I've been to France. I am just imagining).

Things move in 'Laos' time. It's like Island time. (Not very fast). It's peaceful. There are nice bakeries and coffee shops. At night time everything is lit up with fairy lights and it feels magical.

Thankfully it's no full-moon-party-tourist-town though - everything shuts at about midnight :)

the quaint streets of Laos

and at night time

This morning we left on the 'trucks' at 7:30am, headed for the Elephant park. About half an hour of dust in my eyes and listening to 14 kids singing 'Bingo' made for a very grateful Pamela as we finally arrived at this sanctuary for elephants.

I ride with Nathan, one of the teachers. He's about 27 years old and plays saxophone (or maybe the clarinet... or maybe both... I forget). He teaches in Dubai but also gets some extra cash from playing gigs.

On the elephant ride he is hilarious. He is genuinely terrified and I laugh hysterically at his comical display of fear.

I cannot help but think of how much these elephants must have been tortured. Like literally they must have had their souls beaten out of them to be like this. So placid and unaware. Graham tells me that they never forget though. I hope for their sake that they do.

me on an elephant!

My view

****

And so I want to go for a run but there is no way. My body just will not let me. I actually just napped for an entire hour and I swear I feel worse for it.

Maybe I need to break my 'rule' and just take some Panadol already.

Death by fire

I ran again today and it was hot. My skin burned and I felt cold.

Everyone here showers outside - which is awesome - except they don't like to show their bodies. Women wear these long full sarongs (to shower in!) and the men wear shorts. They're very modest people.

Toilets are another thing-to-get-used-to here. It's definitely no Singapore Airport that's for sure. It's all squatting and what-not - and the family who's house that we're staying in is pretty wealthy so they have a really nice ceramic toilet and all. But we went to visit the high school yesterday and there are about 450 students who attend and there are no toilets for them. They just find a spot in the forest/bush/lake around the perimeter of the grounds.

It's dark right now and as I write this (in my journal) there are 3 little Lao children watching me intensely. They are so intrigued by my writing.

There are about 40 children here. We're sitting outside and there's a bonfire going. I can hear giggles, laughing, shouting, screaming - all the sounds of kids having a generally delightful time. 23 of the children are around 12 or 13 years old. They are from the Dubai American Academy (DAA) and are the school group that Graham is taking around as part of the Seuang River Project for 6 days.

The rest of the kids are between 4 and 10 and are from the local village that we are staying in.

One of the DAA kids just spotted a huge insect on the wall of one of the buildings. I know this because the scream she let out was not the scream of a child playing games, it was the scream of a child who had just spotted a bug that looked as though it could potentially endanger the lives of small children and animals. It is the size of my hand. It has grasshopper legs. It has...wings.

So naturally, screams spread pretty quickly and before long there are about 23 children yelling, screaming, running, pointing and generally just creating a big scene. And in the middle of this chaos, the smallest of the Lao children - a little 4 year old boy - walks through the screaming crowd right towards the bug on the wall. He carefully climbs onto a wooden bench, stands on his tiptoes and takes the bug into his hands.

All madness breaks loose. The DAA kids are in shock. They are screaming for their lives as though this child has just pulled the pin on a hand grenade.

The kid is so confused and I can't help but feel sorry for him. He looks around at the screaming faces and pointing fingers. Then he looks down at the bug that he is clutching in his hands. Slowly and deliberately, he clenches the bug in his right hand and then with his left - he pulls off one of the huge giant grasshopper legs and lets it fall to the ground. Then he does the same with it's other leg.

The DAA kids are still screaming. Their faces must be red and their lungs must be aching. I think my jaw drops a little with slight disbelief at what I'm seeing.

Maybe the kid thought he was saving the day by slowly murdering the insect in front of their eyes. Not so much.... so he resorts to what must be plan B.

As he walks, the crowds of children part for him. He walks to the bonfire and throws the insect in. Then he gets back to his playing as though nothing has happened.

Incredible.

I chuckle as the DAA kids continue to scream and I get back to my journal writing and entertaining my own audience with cartoon pictures and English words.

Some of the gorgeous children playing by the fire :)

The Seuang River Project

So this will be my second night here now. I'm so pleased that I came - I'm learning lots from Graham and my opinions and understanding of Poverty are changing and being shaped by my experiences.

My first impression, or observation, so far, is that the people in these villages (well, the ones we've seen so far) are happy, shy, gentle and polite. They spend their days farming, teaching, learning, playing, building and socialising. There aren't any huge drug problems. They have a river. They have farm land and forest. They have buffalo and pigs and chickens. They eat very sticky rice, vegetables, chili paste and a bit of meat. The children run around in small packs and are much smaller for their age than you would expect and I wonder why? The 8 year olds look as though they are 5. And the 5 year olds look as though they are 3.

To be honest, the first thing that glared out to me was the pollution. I asked Graham about it and he pointed out that right now they are a small population so the problem is a small one. You can see where that one is going... when the population grows, so too will the problem.

It's unbelievable. They have this 'out of sight out of mind' type psyche. They collect rubbish from their yards and homes and dump it into the river. I mean, I'm not sure what they're meant to be doing with it... perhaps that is something worth looking at. Education, obviously, being a starting point.

And so the other main issue that Graham mentioned is access to adequate health care when they need it. People don't look sick and diseased, but if they get sick and diseased then it is mega expensive for them to get help. (An ambulance to the city or whatnot).

The Seuang River Project is the name of what Graham is running here, and it's incredible. It's hugely beneficial to the communities/villages. Each day, Graham is directly employing around 20 people from the villages to do things like cook, tour guide, drive etc. The students who are here are from the Dubai American Academy and are paying a bit to be here - which goes directly to the village for their serivces (accommodation etc). The children have also brought donations (books, toys, clothes) that are to be divided up amongst a few of the schools/villages.

It is totally incredible to see the children playing together - their common language is laughter and football and nothing else seems to matter.

White.

So the place I'm staying at is 3 months old. It's called the Airport Residence and Spa (for future reference). None of the staff speak English except for the manager and even then - I'm sure she doesn't understand half of what I'm saying the way she nods and smiles so much.

I think I'm the only person here. It's nice, but.

I take a cold shower. My room is big. And cool.

I change into some shorter shorts and a smaller singlet, I drape my camera over my neck, chuck 200 Baht into my pocket and stroll down the stairs outside.

The air is suffocating. It's thick and heavy. The sky is dark grey. Rubbish lines the streets. I stand with no purpose on the sidewalk, casually glancing left and right. To my right I notice some activity so I wander over.

Looks like a night market.. I smell food and the sun is low... probably around 6pm.

I feel completely.out.of.place.

I feel strikingly and uncomfortably white. And tall.

It's like everyone is staring at me. Well it's not like they are.. they actually are. I must look ridiculous. A gigantic white skinned girl with short shorts, jandals (flip-flops), sunglasses and a huge camera. What the fuck is she doing here? There are no other tourists in sight. No other white people at all actually...

But it turns out to be somewhat amusing. They like the camera. And they like my reaction to their pigs heads and dead fish and funny children. I (nervously) photograph a small child who has fallen asleep on a table next to a display of dead fish for 20 Baht a plate. The parents(?) laugh kindly and smile. I relax (a little).

Utopia in a transit lounge

I'm in Singapore. More precisely... I'm in Singapore airport. It's been 48 hours since I arrived at Melbourne airport and I've still got another 4 hours til I finally arrive in Bangkok.

It was meant to be a 9 hour flight. Thanks JetStar... for nothing.

This place is like nothing I've ever seen before, except perhaps on television or in my vision of a utopia. It is eerily calm and pleasant. Everything works. It's really as though every action and movement I'm going to make has been pre-thought of and planned out.

The bathrooms are nice. I like clean bathrooms.

The staff in this place are robotically polite. The sky-bus between terminals is timed perfectly for my arrival to the platform.

The carpet is mesmerizing. The music is meditative.

The rooftop has a pool but it costs $13.91 so I don't swim. I am hesitant to spend money. Also there are free movies playing in the 3 (yes..three) cinemas - one in each terminal. But I do not like the look of any of the movies so I don't watch any.

Internet is everywhere and it's free.

In summary - this place likes me and so I like it in return.

Wedding bells and thank God.

So how I find myself photographing weddings, I don't know. Well, that's a lie, I'm sure I could figure it out. Try the following formula:

Take a little bit of 'Oh you've got a nice camera', mixed with 'oh so you take nice photographs?', add a little bit of 'yeah, I've photographed here and there', and apparently you've got yourself a wedding photographer!

The dramatic, life-changing experience began on a mild, Wednesday afternoon. OK so it wasn't life changing. And the temperature was much warmer than mild. I was, however suffering from a mild head-cold at the time, so my senses and perception of events may have been slightly heightened, skewed, etc.

I was to be shooting at a Wedding Rehearsal in preparation for the Big Day. The 25 minute drive out to the venue in Kumeu was made more tolerable by the fact that I managed to fit in a 90 minute surf before the rehearsal began.

The rehearsal went swimmingly. Gorgeous venue. Took some nice shots. The vows and things were to happen outside in the early afternoon sun... so my only concern was the shadows. I couldn't find my flash - it seemed I had left it 7 hours away back home in Wellington... The Wedding planner informed me that in the unlikely event of rain, the formalities would be moved indoors. I put all my energy into those two words 'unlikely event'. And prayed for sun.

Sunday (The Big Day)
I awake and I have a headache. It's Sunday and my alarm is singing to me, so it must be around 9am. As I come into consciousness, I notice the sound of falling water. Is someone in the shower? No... as I rub the sleep from my eyes and kick my covers off in frustration, I realise it is raining outside. Did I say raining? I meant fucking pissing down with rain. If I squeeze my eyes shut, maybe I'll vanish into a different time and place. No such luck. I drag myself out of bed and mope around the kitchen for an hour wondering what.the.fuck is the best thing to do.

It's 10:30am. I call Jade. She's creative, got a camera and is usually up for random activities suggested by me at stupidly short notice. She agrees to come help! Snap: First smile of the day.

I think hard about the flash and where it might be. My brain returns fuzzy hazy unclear garble and suggests to me that I go back to sleep. I ignore my brain and turn to Google.

"where can i buy a cheap pentax flash in nz?" I ask it.

It tells me there is something for sale on Trade Me, but it turns out it's not what I am looking for. Go figure.

The wedding starts at 3:30pm. I tell Jade to meet me there at 3pm. I get there at 3:20pm.

As I get further out west, the rain stops. The clouds don't look so heavy, and the sun begins to shine through them, giving a splendid 'studio lighting' type appearance to the day. I just hope they didn't make the call already to move everything inside!

They didn't. The Wedding Planner greets me with enthusiasm and asks me if the light is OK. I cannot stop grinning... it.is.unbelievable.

Sudden interuption by my mobile phone reminds me to switch it off... but I check the text message just before I do. It's from Mum: 'found flash.'

Sigh. Chuckle. Smile.