trekkies.

We spent our last day in Thailand trekking in the yungle outside of Chiang Mai: riding elephants, bamboo rafting, hiking through rice paddies and meeting old Karen people in a suspiciously touristy village.

But did I mention RIDING ELEPHANTS?! Because if I forgot, let me clarify: it was UN. REAL. Here's Mom, now known as the Elephant Whisperer because it appears to be a soul connection between these two.

Let it be known that if I could somehow work an elephant into my normal morning commute, I would be thrilled. My sister has requested that I not include here the shots of her gripping the side of the chair and looking less than thrilled "because we were sliding all around mud on the back of a FREAKING ELEPHANT" but I think she'd agree with me-- this was completely Jungle Booky mind-blowing.

agape home.

Well, it's been about 8 months since I've sent out a plea for orphans, so I figured it was about time to call on your infinite kindness yet again.
We met Patty, who helps run the Agape Home AIDS orphanage, our first day at the Eubanks, and were immediately huge fans of hers. She has a peacefulness and a gentleness about her that is unique to find. We tracked her down at Agape Home before we left Thailand-- here she is, as documented by one of the kiddos who got their mitts on the camera:
Agape Home provides holistic care for AIDS orphans (85% of the kids there have also been diagnosed as HIV+), including antiretrovirals that have vastly extended their life expectancy, job training, foster homes in the surrounding area, and a beautiful facility for them to call home.

There is also a Mother and Baby Home designed to allow HIV+ mothers to stay with their kids. We became quite somber at the sight of a woman who appeared very, very old wandering slowly around the facility, pregnant and clearly in the late stages of AIDS. Patty later told us that she is only 16 years old, and that since moving to the center and receiving proper physical and spiritual care, she has visibly calmed down. It's a sobering sight that makes me so, so grateful for an ever-wider spectrum of blessings in my own life, and I only wish I could do more to help places like this. Donating will help them expand their foster care capacities and job training facilities, creating a sort of village of support for kids who are moving out of the home, as well as help continue to provide the advanced medications, healthy food, and clean living area that are so crucial for these kids.

Will you join me in sponsoring one of these sweet kids? It's easy even to make a one-time donation; I included the link on the righthand side there! Much like the project in Bolivia, it's really nice to know exactly where your money is going and how effective it will actually be.

I'll leave you with the parting shot I got on our way out-- a little sweetheart who rushed to the window to bid us adieu with a huge grin. Oh, my heart!

free burma rangers.

Waking up every morning to have coffee overlooking miles of palm forest, sun glinting off a thirsty lake, horses rolling around a soccer field and a gentle haze of Thai steam rising off the mud is one of the most peaceful ways to begin a day. And then the hurricane that is the Eubank family hits.

The Eubanks were kind enough to host us on their massive ranch outside of Chiang Mai, and this is what you get with your morning coffee if you stay with this generous family: detailed conversation regarding whether or not the term "genocide" is correct for the Burmese political situation, slide shows of children who have been shot, and stories of land mines and dying babies and incredible courage. But it's all in a day's work for Dave, who runs what is quite possibly the most intense operation I have ever seen in real life.

The Free Burma Rangers is a covert (ie. illegal) guerrilla relief and humanitarian force aiding refugees fleeing the Burmese Army. It's hardcore relief work that runs like the army, if the army operated with the ends of wholeness and healing. It has succeeded in creating a network of radios that inform villagers of pending attacks so they can escape, but also so world news sources can stay up to date on situations that the Burmese government would otherwise never give them access to. It's dangerous work, and the strength it requires for them to work daily with 5 year old gunshot victims and 8 year old rape victims and murdered infants is honestly beyond me.

When the family isn't on the ground in Burma, they use their home in Thailand as Grand Central Station (to paint a picture, we shared a visit with a British couple and their two tiny boys who run a development program in Afghanistan; an MIT grad student who does communications work for FBR, an FBR soldier on injured reserve, and next week a California Congressman is on his way with a delegation. Quiet? Never). And although it would be more simple and peaceful to watch The View with your morning caffeine, there is something so encouraging and strengthening about spending time with people who have deep faith and who are passionate-- for excellence, for love, for justice and for others-- that a few days hearing some of the darkest stories in the universe somehow wound up feeling like a bigger story of hope being woven throughout hopelessness.

Here's the FBR website, which can explain this incredible project better than I:

http://www.freeburmarangers.org/

sleeper train.

Is there anything in existence more old-fashioned and romantic than traveling by sleeper train?



Amy accused me of having a crush on overnight trains. Well, who wouldn't?




You get to pretend you're in a movie from the 40s (in my mind I have a porter to carry my trunk, which is filled with fitted skirt suits, lots of hats, red lipstick and a slight British accent).

You pull your curtain shut, let the tracks rock you to sleep...


...and in the morning you wake up in a totally new place.

fish pedis.

To get the boys up to speed, here's how this works: you put your feet in a fish tank and these little piranha-like creatures nibble on your skin until you're as smooth as a baby's bottom. It would be less creepy if I hadn't watched a big fish die in the tank next to mine and his entire school then begin to eat him too.

Putting your feet in a tank of cannibalistic skin-eating fish: We'll do anything to be trendy.

street food and unrequited love.

-Chatuchak Weekend Market, Bangkok.

"no pain, please."

Peter taught us this phrase in Thai on Saturday morning and I scoffed at it, like the naive child I was at that point.

We thought we were being sooo clever with our plans for the day. What a wonderful way to unwind together, we thought! Who could resist meditation in the park followed by an hour and a half of hot yoga and two hour Thai massages? Why wouldn't people ALWAYS spend their Saturdays like this?

24 hours later, it dawned on me, when I mysteriously woke up as a hobbling 90 year old woman with the flexibility of petrified wood. I spent the entire next day loudly ruing the moment I ever thought I could handle intense yoga followed by a small Thai woman putting her whole body weight on my poor, unsuspecting individual muscles.

Luckily Peter is really nice and in an effort to shut me up, took us to the State Building overlooking Bangkok and bought us dry martinis. This building is PHENOMENALLY BEAUTIFUL and to prove it, will kick you out if you aren't up to dress code (case in point: a man was turned away on the first floor for wearing Crocs. Now I am of the mindset that unless you are a surgeon or an elderly gardener, you shouldn't be wearing Crocs anyway, but that's neither here nor there).

Peter really made us love Bangkok, but since he took off for Manila like the fancy businessman he is, we followed suit and headed north on a sleeper train to Chiang Mai. This is us rounding out a lovely weekend by basking in the glow of the city from it's most impressive building and taking too many dorky pictures that didn't turn out anyway.

wishing.

Once you arrive at the wat, pass by the monks on cell phones and the sparkly gold buddhas and the hands clutched in prayer.

Greet the seven statues representing the seven days of the week, find the day you were born on, and dip a ladle into the river of oil that runs underneath them.

Pour the oil in three circles around your statue's flame and think very hard about your secret dreams.

Voila-- wishing complete.

hello bangkok!

I'm too tired to think of a played-out joke about the word Bangkok because we just spent an entire day cavorting through the streets of this city with the suspected drug-czar, and my good friend, Peter Fotheringham.
Just kidding about the drug-czardom, he wanted me to say that. He's actually a really upstanding citizen who knows Bangkok like the back of his hand, lives in a fancy apartment with a pool, and is willing to put up with us. Peter is one of those people who will drop comments like, "Oh, and then after the World Cup we went on a surf trip to Mozambique, which was amazing!" without sounding pretentious in the least.

So today we visited beautiful wats and ate gorgeous food and hopped into water taxis and drank thick espresso and talked about Thai royalty and Noam Chomsky and photography and language and Peter slowly opened our eyes to the intrigue of a place like Bangkok, a massive city with a thousand stories on every corner. Days like today make me feel like I could just travel and travel forever just to see a new face or hear a new prayer.