Crossing the Mekong

One Sunday morning, I went on my usual walk: dropping off my laundry, and then to breakfast. At breakfast, I ran into Toan, a really nice young man that I see around town pretty frequently. I ended up talking to him for a time, while viewing the Mekong, and enjoying an iced latte and a breakfast wrap. Looking across the river, I decided that’s where I’d go next. So, I went up the street and after negotiating a reasonable price, I hired a guy to ferry me across in his boat. The other side of the river seems very rural - it’s beautiful, there’s a nice walking path through the jungle along the river. First, a young girl came out of her house and ran after me. She gave me a beautiful chrysanthemum. At the end of the pathway, I stopped to look around a temple, which seemed rather ramshackle and overgrown. I put the chrysanthemum in the hands of a Buddha statue. Then, I sat down for a moment, and out of nowhere, music blasting, came an ice cream man. It was hilarious. Of course I bought an ice cream.

After enjoying my frosty treat, I decided to head back down the path, thinking I’d go to the village at the other end, maybe a mile away. By this time, it was around 11am. The day was heating up. I was melting. I was walking in the shade, and it was still 90 degrees and extremely humid. When the first man approached me, offering a boat ride back to the other side, I took him up on it. I scrambled down the river bank, got in his boat, and was looking forward to the wind in my hair for a few minutes as I was swept across the Mekong. But no - the boatman drove right into a sand bar and we got stuck. We had to wait in the middle of the river until a couple more guys stopped to push us out. Luckily, I thought this, too, was pretty funny! I’d rather get stuck in the middle of the Mekong than stuck in the snow on Woodward Avenue.

Kuang Si Falls and Falling

This is the third time I’ve been to Luang Prabang. Everywhere you go, there is someone wanting to take you to Kuang Si Falls. Tour companies, tuk tuk drivers, vans. I’d somehow resisted, and never went. I guess I thought they were much ado about nothing, a tourist trap. I was completely wrong. They are so beautiful, like the garden of eden! Frank, my coworker, friend, and fellow volunteer at the Traditional Arts and Ethnology Center met 3 vacationing Germans who live in Shanghai, and who rented a car to travel around Laos. I sort of invited myself to go with all of them to Kuang Si, and they were kind enough to let me tag along.

I love to go hiking, and usually I have no issue crawling up rocks, and walking on slippery surfaces. Until - I fell on ice outside my backdoor 9 months ago, and shattered my ankle. I’m still healing, and I’m really afraid, terrified even, of falling, especially in a remote country not known for its stellar medical care. Frank and these virtual strangers that I went to Kuang Si Falls with were so incredibly kind to me. They held my hand up steep and slippery places. They waited for me when I was slow. They did it with humor and seeming pleasure. On one hand I felt like an old lady needing so much assistance, and on the other, I was really touched by their kindness. I felt similarly during those dark months of recuperation from my broken leg. I felt old and hobbled, but touched by the kindness of my friends and family who helped me. We hiked to the top of the waterfall, took a dip in the pools, and made it back down safely. When we were back on flat ground, I was just strolling along, my knee suddenly gave out, and I fell flat on my face! Luckily, I wasn’t hurt at all. Not even a skinned knee. After some embarrassment, I quickly got up, brushed myself off, and kept on going. That’s just what you have to do in life.

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What does it mean to be "alone?"

Before I get started on the concept of “alone,” a few notes on what I’ve been up to:  The first few weeks in the UNESCO Heritage town of Luang Prabang have been filled with getting settled, making friends, my volunteer job, and making photographs.  It was easy enough to find a place to live. I’m living in a charming little apartment on the Nam Kahn River, in the heart of the historic district, surrounded by gorgeous Buddhist temples.  I really wanted to be able to sit on a balcony, and see a beautiful landscape. While I live in a beautiful home in Michigan, I often feel boxed in by my neighbors, and I struggle to see the sky.  I didn’t want to feel that way here. So, mission accomplished, I have a beautiful view. I suppose the thought about where I’m living in Luang Prabang is sort of related to the title of this blog post because I live alone here, as I do in Michigan when my kids aren’t around.

I had been struggling with a little bit of loneliness, until I went to dinner one night, about 3 weeks into this journey.  I was at a very popular restaurant/bar, and noticed that I was just about the only person there who was having dinner alone.  Everyone else was on their phones. I realized that I’d rather be alone, eating alone, a singular human, than be a part of a group or couple where everyone was alone by virtue of staring at their screens, not talking to one another, off in their own worlds.  That seems more lonely, more “alone” to me. I think one of the essential ingredients of not being lonely is presence, living in the here and now. It opens up your senses, you can see more, hear more, feel more. Life lived in Technicolor. It would surely be wonderful to have someone to share this experience with in an intimate way, but since that is just not my reality, I choose to drink it all in, revel in life’s beauty and grace.  It turns out that I’m not really lonely, I’m fully with myself.

Unscripted

Day one.  It’s taken 54 years to get here.  So many things have transpired.  So many lives lived.  So many more lives to live.  I’m running off script.  I’ve reached the end of what I’m required to do, per the American, white, female, middle class script. I have few expectations.  Others have only basic expectations of me, which I freely and wholeheartedly embrace, and are mutually beneficial. I love my family.  I love my friends.  I am committed to these wonderful people.  I may leave for a while, but I’ll always return.  I feel no need to run away or flee from something.  I’m running to something - learning, growth, adventure, love of the world and travel, self expression, self awareness, middle age refreshment, freedom from convention. What is conventional for a person like me?  I have no idea.  I don’t care.  I’ve followed the script, I’ve played the roles, I’ve upheld my obligations. I’m so grateful I can do this.  Grateful to be able to take the time, have the money, have the desire, be courageous enough, have enough faith that my kids will be fine for 90 days without me sitting at home, waiting for them to call or text or Snapchat. It’s time to embrace life, once again.  But this time, I’m going to make this up as I go along.  I have no script.