Myanmar (Old Burma) and Mangosteens!

I woke early Sunday morning full of Anticipation.  I was certain to be up before sunrise to get a first hand look at how Thailand greets a new day.  I was none disappointed either.  First I settled in for what seemed to be a fantastic sunrise as the sky turned red and the mountains to the west seemed to dance with excitement!  Then a cloud rolled in last minute and ruined the whole thing, but not to despair because I found the morning market just n time for dan bing "egg crape", a couple of newly discovered "meat sticks" as I like to call them (nearly life changing strips of pork soaked in egg and curry and grilled while you watch), some local fruit, but nothing new just local pineapple and some oranges.

Speaking of interesting fruit if anyone is travelling to Southeast Asia they must try the mangosteens! Look for a fruit that looks almost like an avocado, but when you split it open, it is burgundy.  The meat is in the center and is snow white. It is so sweet, and slightly tangy, extremely juicy, and honestly I cannot describe my excitement.  By far the best discovery in Thailand to date!  This is a fruit which excites me almost as much as maracuja or Colombian passion fruit.  They are only native to Thailand so must not be missed!  These are a must and are certainly more enjoyable than the fried grub worms I just polished off at lunch.

I digress, back to the story, we went up to the northern most point of the country and as I stood on the banks of a mere stream looking at the Myanmar locals longing to be in Thailand I realized that I had to cross.  Maybe just to satisfy personal curiosity but I needed to cross none the less.  How could I come so close to such a deprived and hurting country and not just enter? I had done my research the night before.  I knew that with a few U.S. dollars I could enter the country and that I would have no problems returning into Thailand. So all that was left was permission, keep in mind when I say, "all" that this is one of the most difficult things to gain when travelling with a group this size.

Interest in gaining access to Burma was mounting.  I had already been approached by several team members insisting that if I crossed the boarder I must take them along.  How everyone always seems to know exactly what I am thinking I still have not quit figured out, but every time someone wants an adventure they seem to come knocking on my door.  Please understand I am not complaining because if they mention it then most likely I am already thinking it.  If I am not, then I always welcome the suggestions.

I did finally decide not to enter a country without permission from from my sponsor.  A difficult decision, but very seldom it is when I regret submitting to authority.  So I waited, and waited, nearly an hour and a half.  Finally, I was granted the go ahead and about a dozen from our team had the opportunity to spend a few hours in boarder crosssings and visiting local shops in Myanmar--old Burma.

I was doubtful I could count this as a country visited, but after over an hour, having exchanged currency, nearly getting in a fight, having waved off hundreds of street vendors, taxi drivers, tour guides, and hospitality worker, attempting to make a quick buck off the tourists, I bought my patch and decided that this certainly was a cultural experience worthy of it's own flag on my pack.

This was just the beginning because what this did to open my eyes was nothing compared to how my gaze would be widened the very next day!  When coupled these experiences would make Myanmar a true journey and allow my global perspective to include all those suffering in such a tumultuous country.

Thailand!

Thailand, Say it again, Thailand!  Can anyone pronounce this name without being mentally bombarded with thoughts of dense jungle, fabulous beaches, spicy foods, ancient civilizations, lost tombs, mysterious temples, or hidden secrets of eastern mysticism?  After patiently waiting for the past three months I have finally stepped out of the back of a Toyota pickup and my boots are on the ground in sacred Thailand!

Our sponsors have sent us into the mountains of northern Thailand as volunteers to a few local schools.  We have the weekend to tour the legendary golden triangle where the British flexed their muscle and expanded control by introducing opium and causing massive addiction to this extremely binding drug.  This area became dubbed the "Golden Triangle" because of the  massive quantities of gold which traded hands and circulated as expensive opium was produced and exported out of this area.  It is called "Triangle" because from this point one must merely cross a small river to enter Laos or Myanmar or Burma.

I have the opportunity to tour this are Sunday and then until noon Monday, and then I will be going West into the mountains for a week of teaching English in one of the villages.

God Always Knows Best!

I was in great spirits just after the fire.  I was feeling great, had been working out, I was meeting with my former girlfriend online, and I had something exciting to talk with her about.  Things couldn’t be better!

That evening I anxiously booted up my netbook, fingers trembling with anticipation.  She was not online yet, excellent, I would be able to think through all the events of the week before she signed on, thus avoiding rambling or talking about useless topics to fill time.  I waited, kept waiting, I began to play on facebook then I checked my email. 

Waiting in my inbox was the explanation of her absence.  I quickly read through an email that exhausted the fact that we would never be more than friends and she was moving on, yet left not the slightest clue as to the reason or why.  I reread and I can not say for certain but I most likely read it a third and fourth time.

I tried to respond, I had so much I wanted to write.  It wall seemed useless.  I knew anything that I said I would most likely regret later so I decided to think it over.  There I was in the favellas of Rio de Janeirowith only my brother, a few English speakers at church, and Eduardo who never really runs out of things to talk about.  I had not talked to Kristin in weeks and Jen will most likely never use skype.

(I would like to mention here that I never did decide how to respond to that email, and so I just never did.)

God somehow always provides just what we need!  In this case what I needed was a Sarah, but not just any Sarah.  God provided a one of a kind Sarah Henrique, I had literally met her at church just days before.  When she came stumbling into church in her usual bumbling fun loving way she was clearly nervous because she was talking at an even faster rate than was common--even for Sarah.  We (or should I say) She talked for quit awhile and we exchanged numbers.  She is a cute, talkative, vibrant, short, talkative Brasilian college girl who had spent time in Canada, and enjoys travel, and talking, she speaks perfect English (at 100mph), and in case I didn’t mention it earlier she is very talkative.  Oh well, I couldn’t sit in the slums all weekend, so Austin made me call her and we all went to Impanema to have a nice dinner.

If there was anyone capable of talking enough to keep my mind off of Ana’s email, it was Sarah.  So she met us and brought a friend along, her best friend Raiza.  Let me state now that though they are great friends they are a bit opposite.  Raiza is a goal driven, results oriented, disciplined student, and carries herself with perfect class.  She also is not as annoyingly talkative (Just kidding Sarah!)  Given the combination of Raizas quiet friendly personality and the sheer speed that Sarah can talk, change topics, and even support arguments which happened hours before I knew this would not be a boring night!

Both have remained good friends of mine over the past year.  I do not remember all that we talked about that night, except I do remember thinking Raiza was Russian haha.  Both are amazing friends and have always been here for me.  There both have earned great internships in their field of study so congratulations Sarah Henrique and Raiza Vasconcelos.  You both were responsible for turning a very difficult week into an extraordinary weekend.  Thanks for always being so much fun! --Except for Raiza who is a workaholic and studies all the time and always ditches early to cram for homework and exams that are due the next month. I know your hard work is paying off Raiza so congradulations!

I love wasting time distracting Raiza from her studies and I love being the excuse Sarah finds to NOT study!  Thank you Sara for always keeping me informed on how God is working in your life, I know He has great things for in store for you!

FUEGO!

I remember that day well.  August 23^rd 2010 the day there was a fuego in the Providencia (fire).  As I was idly sipping cafezina (little coffee, but it should be called tiny cup of sugar) and relaxing in preparation for the last couple of hours of work, I smelled something peculiar.  My nose quickly identified the smell as smoke, but how and from where was it coming.

I ran outside and followed my nose up the favella, and remember the feeling of helplessness as I saw the flames coming down from the piles of liter on the mountain side.  In Brasil it is common practice to dump all garbage in any unoccupied area in sight.  The closer the better, as you would not want to excerpt much effort to do anything in Rio.  As a matter of fact most locals only put forth effort when a) going to the beach, b) going to eat, or 3) cheering on their favorite soccer (futbal) team.  So despite the greatest efforts on the part of the mission workers to keep the hillside clean and liter free, within a matter of months it is completely covered with unwanted boxes, plastics, wrappers, and the pigs who wander through for food. 

To my surprise everyone was hustling and bustling in an all out attempt to put out a raging fire that had broken out amongst the refuse and was quickly making it’s way down the hill toward our little mission.  We were well armed for the war on fire however (note sarcasm), our arsenal included: 2 one gallon buckets, and a water hose with no water pressure.  I joined the futile efforts and even took the front line of the assault on the flame that would soon engulf the orphanage and nurseries.  The fire dept. had been called, but what could they do, we were too high up the favella to be reached from the street, and the streets above were far too narrow and winding for the fire to be fought from the top.  Yes, I feared this would certainly be a devastating blow.

I abandoned my attempts to use the dripping hose to saturate the foliage and began axing down ever stick of underbrush and pulling it away from the buildings in order to create a dead space that couldn’t be jumped because of lack of fuel.  When I looked up I realized that time was nearly up, the flames had crept eerily close and were gaining speed.  I saw the fire truck in the street.  We had all heard the siren for the last half hour at least, we were all relieved to know that professional help had finally arrived if to offer nothing more than advice and a break.

To my surprise however the fire crew came actually prepared and the truck was loaded with a tank of water (having its own water supply allowed the truck to come half way up the mountain) and at least 1,000 feet of hose.  We cleared a line and ran the hose straight up the mountain and held the flame from advancing another foot.  Soon it was completely expelled. 

As I type out the story I realize how cliché it sounds.  Trust me I realized the cliché even as I was participating in this drama, but it certainly happened.  I helped save little orphans in the slums of Rio from a raging fire (I know it sounds like a bad hallmark movie).  Immediately after, I began reflecting on the incident and tried to realize what I could learn.  I was not sure but I was excited about the next day.  It was Friday and I had big plans—unfortunately the lesson I was to learn was not from the fire.  My lesson would be learned the very next day in a test that would be much more difficult, that was a different fire, but a fire that would have to be fought and expelled none the less.

Getting Past Lonely and Into Favellas!

I have decided that 2 blog posts concerning New Years are enough and will not bore my followers with new years resolutions and personal ambitions regarding finances, language studies, travels, adventures, and other personal goals which will most likely only serve to cause readers to fall into a state of deep sleep.  I will instead continue my story and how my travels began in 2010!  I had previously discussed my new found independence and my life as an unattached individual.

At this point I must mention my friend Jennifer and Kristin who played a huge roll in my not turning into a puddle of self-pity and pathetic emotions, but instead allowed me to move forward by always being there for me.  They helped me see past the short term and anxiously plan for the exciting future of international travels.  Anytime I nearly succumbed to the temptation to make a feeble phone call and spew my emotions or grabble in unnecessary dependency they were there for me.  Two friends who were exactly what I needed for the long 4 months of preparation for my journey ahead and getting past the past!

Jen is a strong, independent girl from Virginia Beach, who regardless of where we were, or what we were doing always was supportive and always made me smile.  Her bright smile, shiny black squinty eyes (sorry Jen but you do have those) could make anyone’s day better.  Also she was quick to listen and a great masseuse.  Jen if you are reading thank you so much for always listening, for acting like you understood even if you didn’t and especially for sincerely caring for me when I felt no one did.  I always smile when my mind wanders to you.  Thank you so much for making my 24^th birthday so special, when I was not even going to have dinner with anyone!  I promise that one year I will actually be in the U.S.A. on August 31^st and I will make it up to you.

Kristin can fill an entire post singlehandedly.  She is such a good friend who I share so many secrets with.  Things that went so wrong were always so fun as long as it were the two of us.  Nights that would have been considered disastrous by any other standard were so fun and always managed to make us laugh at our own mistakes.  Regardless of whether we were weekend road warriors, or just trying to find a place to escape on a Friday night so no one would know we were lame, we always had a good time!  Kristin if you are reading thank you for always being there for me and always encouraging me to do the right thing—or the wrong thing if it would make a good story!

These friends were instrumental in helping me make it to Brazil when I otherwise would have rushed back to my girlfriend and possibly been taken back.  But despite thinking that I had gotten over her, I do remember a crushing blow that came about six weeks after my arrival in Rio.  It happened just days after a fire broke out in our favella!