I feel like I haven't stopped moving since I last wrote, but for good, adventurous reasons generally. For such a small island I am ever amazed at the amount of things there are to do and places to see. Wednesday night happened to be the 1 year anniversary of the Funky Monkey, Koh Lanta's closest thing to a night club - though it always seems empty when I drive by. The Why Not band (from the Why Not Bar) was performing and they're quite good so I went out with Sylvia, one of the Polish vets. Almost immediately we ran into a few people we'd both met previously through different circumstances and hung out with them for the majority of the night, but first we danced enthusiastically for hours until the band stopped playing. Then we left with the others to go to one of the beach bars, Klappa Klum. Inevitably if you build a bar alongside the ocean people are going to want to go swimming at some point, and so a crew of us ran into the ocean and swam under the stars until we felt a rarely experienced sensation: cold, and called it a night in respect of next day working shifts.
Dutifully I worked the Thursday night sleep-in and was so given the honor of Rufus' last night before he left for the UK with two other dogs; Punk and Blackie. This was the first time he didn't howl the entire night and it was with a tinge of sadness that we said our goodbyes to him in the morning. I was a bit misled when I wrote my last post, and it turns out that Rufus, Punk, and Blackie are to be followed this week by Camilla who is heading impulsively to Australia, and Sylvia and Eva who couldn't extend their trip and are returning to Poland. One new volunteer is arriving on Tuesday but I don't know anything about her.
Friday was such a crazy adventure day! A friend of the shelter, Rob, is friends with a sea gypsy who lives on Koh Lanta Noi. We're on Koh Lanta Yai which is farther from the mainland but just a short ferry ride to Noi. Seven of us hopped on our bikes in the afternoon and rode across on the ferry to Noi and drove around to the other side of the island where our guide awaited us at the end of a concrete pier facing several small islands and, in the distance, the mainland. He took us in his wooden boat to one of the nearest islands and stopped at a lovely strip of beach that looked like the kind of place on those paradise commercials. He then drove us around the perimeter of the island and it was unbelievable. Essentially the island rises directly out of the water in a sheer cliff. The rock walls are covered in twisted trees and greenery, but where the rock shines through it looks like it's been watercolored because of the different colored strains of earth coating the cliff walls. This island is home to eagles and heron-like birds that soar above us as they feel displaced by our boat. Monkeys paced the shoreline and fish leapt out of the water as we circled their home. After doing this loop we entered a cave mouth that can only be accessed at low tide and the real adventure began.
Inside the cave is a large sandy chamber with one massive chandelier-like stalactite in the center. At first glance this appears to be the entire cave, but if you look up towards the top of the back wall there is an entrance into unknowing darkness. A rope hangs down from here and we began the ascent up the increasingly sloping, slippery wall. By the time you reach the last 20 feet you are essentially pulling yourself up entirely by upper body strength since the ground offers no support. Our lovely guide quite likely saved my life more than once on this journey upward; as Rob stressed emphatically beforehand, this is not a tourist destination - this is dangerous and if you fall you could easily break your back/die. The second chamber is much larger than the first, pitch black, full of bats, and, therefore, covered in dry bat feces as those of us in barefeet were only too aware of. We whipped out our flashlights and ventured through this great hall until we supposedly came to the end. But wait, whats that hole above our heads? I'm sorry Mr. Sea Gypsy Guide, you want us to climb into that hole? (Did I mention that our guide spoke no English and none of us know Thai?) About here is where claustrophobia sunk in and I announced that I would be waiting here for their return. It quickly become aware that this wasn't an option as everyone cajoled me into going and the guide beckoned me towards the hole. Once through the hole it was possible to stand up and you're in an upward bound tunnel with a rope hanging down. Again, pull yourself up the rope and suddenly eight of us were cramped together looking at a hole descending downwards into darkness with a rope hanging down. Nearly in tears, I propelled myself down the rope into nothingness and found myself alive in a small "room." Not obvious at first glance was the tall but narrow opening at one side that we slipped into and then had to lower ourself onto the ground to squeeze through an opening that was so narrow you couldn't go through on your stomach, you had to rotate yourself onto your shoulders and pull yourself through that way. And then it became worth it. We were in another room not much bigger than the one before filled with a small pool of cold, clear, spring water. The clearest water I've ever seen; it reflected the dark ceiling and didn't even look at water at first. Our guide lit candles around the edge and, sweaty from our trek, we gratefully got into the water and paddled around, slightly giddy with our success since Rob warned us that not everyone would make it this far. He was almost right, but we proved him wrong. The way back out seemed much easier and we emerged just as the sun began to set. Our guide drove us back to shore on his boat and we quickly got on our bikes to try to make it home before it got too dark. We returned in complete darkness, but we all returned alive and having made it through all the caves' chambers.
Friday also marked my three week mark on Koh Lanta. I realized that I haven't been in one place for as long as three weeks in over three months, since I left home. I'm loving getting to know this island and all it has to offer. I've never been in this kind of situation before where I've become part of a community in that I have my favorite restaurants and I know where to get the things that I need and I have means to get around by myself and I have friends to go out with or I can go out by myself and it's wonderful. Will I be able to leave in five weeks? I know I'm not even half way through my time here but the days are just melting away - kind of like I am in the constant sun.
Camilla has a friend, Ash, visiting right now so on Saturday she took him down to the sourthern most tip of the island to see the lighthouse and national park and I tagged along. It's amazing riding alongside the ocean with the palm trees providing shade and the only breeze being that which you create with your bike. However the farther south you go the more interesting the road becomes. Remember how my bike is...finicky? Besides not starting well, not braking well, being a gas guzzler, etc it is also terrifying when it comes to sharp turns and there's always a moment of "am I going to make it?" That road is crazy; it goes up and down and left and right all at the same time. You'll be going around one turn and up hill so that you can't see what's coming next and then there'll be a sign pointing the opposite direction and suddenly you're going downhill and the opposite direction that you just were. Happily my bike and I survived okay and were rewarded with a beautiful beach and dozens of monkeys running around. These monkeys are so funny. They're not very big, maybe the size of a small dog on average, but they're used to being fed by people so they're not afraid at all and climb all over bikes and cars and try to come up to you. One tried to steal my backpack when we sat down but ran off when we spotted her. The three of us wandered around for a while before doing a loop of the island - my first time going up the east side of the island. Up north, back in Saladan, we stopped at a Buddhist Temple for a short while and looked around a little under the gaze of a watchful monk. We returned home in time for the dark to set in.
Today's been a quiet day where I slept in between working the morning shift. I was feeling a little sick yesterday but I feel much better now. Unfortunately Meagan, one of the volunteers from Canada, came in feeling sick yesterday and she has all the symptoms of Dengue Fever. It's too early to test for it but that's what everyone suspects. I've heard that where she's staying at the Chill Out House there's been a few recent cases so I hope it's not something I'm as at risk of getting while I stay here at the shelter. Though if it's not going to be Dengue Fever I still have to be on the lookout for cobras and falling out of caves. This reminds me that I'm just about out of bugspray so it's off to the ever popular and super classy 7/11 in search of some more.
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