Why Do I Always Have To Sit Beside the Puker??

Side note: We have barely met any Canadians. Definitely no Americans. Actually, of all the people we have met traveling through SE Asia, the majority of them are English, Swedish and Israeli.

Alright, back to the heat. To escape it, we've decided to come blog about the trip so far and upload photos in the air conditioned internet cafe outside our guest house. We are back in Bangkok after a fun-filled few weeks in the south of Thailand. We began on the party island of Koh Pha-Ngan. Thousands of people flock to this island for the infamous 'Full Moon Party.' We attended the pre-party the day before (where I brought my camera), which was one of the craziest parties I have ever been to. The Full Moon Party was even more nuts. I can't even begin to describe the night we had. Everything is fluorescent and on drugs. As soon as you step onto the beach, there are thousands of people dancing to rave music, people skipping rope that is ON FIRE, and everyone is painted up and holding 1 to 4 drinks in their hands. As a party-goer, you stop at one of the many little bars on the beach and pick up a bucket. Basically, for 120-300 Baht (depending on the drink, 4-10 dollars Canadian) you can drink an entire mickey of alcohol in one bucket with many straws. They open up the mickey of your choice, pour the whole thing in the bucket and fill it with ice and your mix. Camille and I got mojito buckets. My first night, I was drunk after one - but in my defense it is one entire mickey AND I hadn't been able to drink for a while, on account of my motorbike accident!! I won't discuss the Full Moon Party night, as our parents will be reading this. I am going to discuss another topic now...

I guess it is important to mention here what happened that fateful evening in Chiang Mai. Jenna, Camille, Mike, Bryce and I decided to rent motorbikes for the day and go visit the traditional long-neck village people located just outside the main city. We drove around all afternoon and had a really fun time. I sat on the back of Bryce's motorbike, and he seemed to know what he was doing (even though this was the first time he and Mike had driven a standard - that should have been my first clue). Everything was fine until we skid off the road on our way back into Chiang Mai and we slid across the pavement for a while. Dripping in blood, I stood up and started laughing at what just happened. Then I saw my skin on the pavement and all the blood and it wasn't so funny. Bryce told me to get back on the motorbike and he would drive me back into the town but there was NO WAY I was doing that again. Mike, Jenna and Camille were already long gone (as they were ahead of us) and there was nothing I could do but watch the blood drip off my right leg and pool on the pavement. Luckily, a nice Thai woman saw the accident, stopped her car and offered to drive me to Chiang Mai on her way to the market. I bled all over her car and felt so bad that I gave her 1000 Baht to say thank you and I'm sorry at the same time. Jenna took me to the hospital and I got a good cleaning of the several wounds that lined my leg from the toes to my knee,as well as 6 stitches in my foot! I was on crutches for about a week after that, and got my stitches taken out 7 days later in a sketchy hospital in Laos (this hospital in no way compared to the one in Chiang Mai, which was big and clean and well-equipped). My doctor in Laos didn't speak English and the hospital was covered in flies and dozens of nurses with nothing to do. When we first arrived, there were at least 20 nurses sitting in the lobby, watching TV (and some half asleep). I guess not too many people can afford health care in Laos. The antibiotics, which were meant to prevent my foot from getting infected, also prevented me from consuming any alcohol for a while and thus I was drunk after one bucket. OKAY?! Don't judge me.

Now, I need to say something about Laos. Beautiful, incredible Laos. Although the country is FAR less developed than Thailand, and I only spent 8 days there, I fell in love with the country, despite its downfalls. The countryside, jungle, mountains and villages that line the roads leading to the bigger cities are among the most beautiful scenes I have ever witnessed. Rice fields being cultivated by women in traditional Asian straw hats, wild boars and goats crossing the roads so suddenly that the bus comes to a screeching halt, children running around the villages with sticks and no shoes while their mothers sit and weave on the porches: all of this I saw on my 13-hour, hot local bus ride to the city of Luang Prabang from the Thai/Laos border. I opted to take this bus because I thought it would be easier on my foot than taking the two day slow boat journey that Camille and Jenna decided on. They promised the bus was air conditioned. It wasn't. They promised the roads were new and clean and not bumpy. They weren't. They said the bus was spatious. It was anything but. My first understanding of the Laos people was that they were good liars. I sat in the front of the bus, with my leg up and my crutches falling all over the place. A quarter of the way there, our already-packed bus made a stop alongside a dirt road, filled the aisles with big bags of rice and allowed MORE Laos people to join the horrible journey - but only to sit on the rice bags in the aisles or stand near the front by the driver (where I was sitting, oh joy). Oh, and did YOU know that Laos people love to spit and puke?? Almost every minute of that bus ride was filled with the sound of someone horking and then opening a window and spitting out the contents of their mouths onto the winding roads. And they all puke. A lot. The person beside me was puking, the person behind me was puking, the people in the aisles were - you guessed it - PUKING! My British friends sitting in the back told me some guy filled up 4 bags of puke and left them on the bus when we stopped for a washroom break (finally) and it was so horrible that Brits had to move them off the bus themselves!!!

Jenna, Camille and I took another bus from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, Laos. More puking. This time, a young girl about 16 years old was sick beside me. She sat in the aisle of our jammed bus and was so sick that she eventually just drifted over into my lap. This is where one of the most incredible things happened - one of those moments when you travel where you feel like you make a connection with someone who is a complete stranger, on the other side of the world. I felt so sorry for the girl, that I offered her my sweater to lay on my lap the entire way to Vang Vieng. Eventually, we both fell asleep; her, laying on my legs, and I laying on her back. She spoke no English and I didn't know her name. All I knew was that we were as close as two people could be for that 7 hour bus ride. When I got off, we smiled at each other, as she returned my sweater. That was that. But it is still one of those moments I will remember fondly - despite the puke.

More to come about our Southern beach adventures!!
xox
Claire

written by  clairejenna on March 24, 2009 from Bangkok, Thailand
from the travel blog: Claire and Jenna Do The World
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