Pre-Dinner Post

I know I constantly remark on this...but I can't believe how fast time is going by. We're already one week into April. I'm supposed to fly back to the US in less than three weeks. I'm due to be home in just over one month. I remember at the 2 1/2 month point thinking, "Really? I'm only half way through?" with a tone of exasperation. Before I got on my flight to Thailand I spent the entire day brooding over the fact that I was flying in the wrong direction of home. And now it's not that I resent the idea of going home and seeing all the wonderful people and familiarity of Bangor, it's just that I feel like I have so many more places I want to go right now and possibly I am a little bit resenting the idea of the familiarity of Bangor. I spent so long planning my get away and now I'm living that adventure, but what will I do once it's over? I don't want to slip back into that bored, predictable way of life where I'm probably one of three places or with one of three people. However I remember writing back in December or January, prompted by a conversation with Danny (Hi Danny!), that I hoped I'd be able to keep the same sense of excitement and interest and curiosity and adventure with me even when back home and surrounded by that which I know so well. I suppose there's only one way to put this theory into practice and that is by returning home, and yet that argument is sounding weaker and weaker.

Actually I've been putting that into practice here on Lanta to a degree. After a month here I know this place quite well. It's a rather small island that has gained some predictability the more time I spend here. I loved getting to know it, but now I feel so comfortable with it that, if I had the flexibility, I would consider it time to move on. I don't mean to be restless or hard to please, but there's just so much more I want to see and it all seems so close and completely unattainable all at once. Sometimes I feel a little bit like a faker amongst some truer travellers; the kind of travellers who show up at a destination with no accomodations set up or plans for where to go or any contacts of any sort. So impulsive! Though after flipping back through some of my earlier journal entries, if I hadn't had my flights booked I definitely would have attempted to chicken out a few months back. This is what was best for me and my first real adventure.

As for what's been going on since I last wrote it doesn't feel like too much. Poison dog lived and went home to her very happy family. They even brought the shelter a huge bucket of candy as an extra thank you. We still have the cutest puppy in the world, Tey, and it appears no one will be claiming him. However, our vet, Dr. Tey (puppy Tey's namesake) is considering adopting him. I do believe that would require a name change. Justin and Meagan returned from Penang with my money! So I can happily live out my remaining weeks on Lanta with more than what I had last month. I am prepared to blow off my remaining Baht in Saladan during my last week here. Unless I go to Nepal in which case I will save save save. Nepal! Nothing is planned but also nothing is totally out of the picture. I don't really think I can afford it but I might possibily have enough to scrape by and come home dirt poor (which wouldn't be the worst thing ever. And I'm already half way around the world, right?).

I also had the worst sleep-in ever on Wednesday night. I guess I can't even call it a sleep in since I didn't get any sleep all night. It started with the biggest rain storm I've seen on Lanta. Miriam, Tilly and I were sitting outside watching it when we realized the kitchen might be leaking a bit and maybe we should move a few appliances. It wasn't leaking a bit - it was all out flooding. The pull out bed for sleep-ins was soaked, all our food was drowning, and the toaster was suspiciously filling up with water which caused a few tense moments when someone had to unplug it. We were helpless but to put every bucket, pail, pot, pan, and mug about to catch the water and mop out what was spilling across the floor. By 11:30 the rain stopped and we sighed a breath of relief. Tilly and Miriam headed to bed and I began putting things back in order. Bad idea. The rain started again and I was by myself trying to fight the water until 1am, unable to do anything but mop out water until the rain should cease. At this point I put two benches together under the mosquito net and tried to make myself comfortable since the bed was soaked. If you know me, you know that I am absolutely petrified of just about every insect. It's slightly ridiculous. Obviously Thailand wasn't the best choice in those regards. All the rain drove in hoards of these horrible flying ants that are the size or bigger than bumble bees. They found their way into my mosquito net and it was with not a little screaming that I fumbled my way out and left the room. I decided I might sleep in the surgery room since it has a door that keeps out bugs. That worked for all of 15 minutes except for the bugs that were already in the surgery room. After three strange insects falling on my from the ceiling I was out of there. By now it's maybe 2am and I decided I'd clean up the kitchen a bit. I washed all the dishes and put everything back in order and realized it was about 4:30am. Between 5am and 5:30am the call to prayer sounds which generally sets the dogs off howling so I figured that I might as well just stay awake until that was over and then curl up until the 7am shift volunteers arrived. A fine idea, except that the prayer call did not happen that morning and so I stood (swayed) in the kennel alley until 5:45am at which point I collapsed upon a bench and fell fast asleep. For twenty minutes. Because twenty minutes later I was awoken to a massive cockroach crawling on me. Seriously? I couldn't handle it. I sat outside on a plastic chair, doubled over my pillow that I had on my lap, in and out of sleep until 7am. I've officially nominated it for worst sleep in of the week. It most likely will receive worst sleep in of the month as well. It has a good chance at winning worst sleep in of the year. Might even make worst sleep in ever.

Onto better things. Friday, my first day off, I went exploring on Lanta Noi (the north island, the place where we went to meet the sea gypsy who took us caving) with Miriam who also had the day off. That morning also marked one month since I leased my bike and it was with no regrets that I returned the Death Mobile. This meant that I went on the back of Miriam's for the whole day and it was probably better that way considering the amount of times we turned around or pointed at something saying, "Is that a road?" "No, no, never mind, keep driving!" Essentially there are two roads on this island. On the map it seems much larger than Lanta Yai but in places to go and things to do it is considerably smaller. We spent about four hours driving around which is really an impressive amount of time for these two roads. What makes me wonder most is the people living there in these very small huts. What do they do all day? What do their futures look like? Will they live here forever? I almost feel a bit guilty that I can travel around as I am when they will most likely never get those same opportunities. And all the small children are so unbelievably excited to see you. They wave and shout, "Hello!!" and run, grinning, after us. Why are they so happy to see us?

Today was also my day off and it was a lovely, beautiful, hot hot day spent with a few people at lunch and at the beach. Such a perfect beach day, really. Most of the people here are Europeans and we're all getting a kick out of how their phrases are working themselves into my vocabulary. I had a "proper cuddle" with Stripey the cat yesterday. I was completely "knackered" after my sleepless sleep-in. I say "banana" like "banawnah" and "sauce" like "sawhs." It's well entertaining. Also I'm two-thirds of the way through Eat, Pray, Love now and quite enjoying it. After reading the section on India it made me want to meditate which I haven't done since that time in Israel when I went to Danny's cousin, James', meditation class. Not to be a hippie-yoga-vegetarian-tea drinker...but I think I want to do it more often. We shall see I suppose. It's just about time for dinner here so perhaps this is a good stopping point. Hopefully I can steal Miriam's laptop again soon for writing (what would I do without her). And she's just knocked on my door...bye!