Beyond the Paved Slopes of Hong Kong

October 31st, 2010

"You don't live here!"

"Actually, I do. I've been staying here for two months already."

So went the midnight conversation over the wall of my rooftop patio with my angry neighbor during my birthday party.

Who can blame her for thinking that. I certainly never imagined that I would be telling anyone that, in fact, I do live in Hong Kong. Well, at least I haven't imagined it since I gave up the financial world after switching five years ago from accounting to outdoor education.

However, I have discovered that Hong Kong has a lot more to offer than highrises, endless malls and millions in business attire. Just wander beyond the paved slopes and cautionary signage surrounding the city. There you can discover breathtaking outdoor secrets that even most residents would never imagine.

I recently went rock climbing with some work friends. The climb approach involved a ferry ride across the hectic Victoria Harbour, a walk through the International Financial Center Mall, a ride up the worlds longest escalator through the trendy HK SoHo District and finally a hop over a small fence and up the staircase of a paved slope. From there I entered the scarcely intruded area that makes up the majority of Hong Kong; untamed jungle. We had a proper bushwhack through vines, bamboo and exotic plants. Always looking out for the enormous spiders and poisonous snakes that inhabit the island, we soon turned up at a climbing crag. I easily forgot that I was even near any type of urban area until I stopped to admire the dense skyline from the top of the climb.

These gems surround the city, and yet each week I teach a new group of kids that have scarcely set their expensively clad feet on anything not made by man.


The first day of my first program working for an outdoor education organization that serves local Hong Kong school children was a bit of a culture shock. "Alright kids, sit in a circle on the grass. We're going to play a game to get to know each other a bit."

I was answered by the expression of fourteen young, disgusted and shocked faces. "Here!?" "I think it's dirty..." "There might be bugs!" "Can't we just sit under there instead?" Asked one, pointing to the paved area outside the toilets.

Oh boy, why did I sign that three month contract, I thought to myself.

They eventually compromised by uncomfortably squatting or sitting on their fashionable backpacks.

My first program was a slow and slightly painful progression. It was worth it by the end of the week though. I led the whole crew on an all day trek up a gorge, slipping and sliding into water and dirt. Some got scratched up for the first time off their padded playgrounds. At the top of the gorge, kids that began literally tip-toeing when off pavement were jumping from rock to rock and plunging into natural swimming holes.

One of the teachers told me that she had never seen the kids acting rambuctiously. She explained that even at lunch, all the kids sit in front of their personal laptops.

This picture has helped my understanding of each new group in each new week. I do feel that it is important to give these kids opportunities to be kids and learn to appreciate nature. But, it has been a real challenge for me to keep my patience with kids that are so difficult for me to relate to.


Life outside of work has balanced out the frustration and exhaustion of my weekdays. I am living in a little apartment on an island outside of Hong Kong. There are no cars on the island and instead of roads, there are many miles of trails to explore. I share the apartment with two of the four other females facilitating for our company. One roomate is living outside of the UK for the first time in her life and one is from the Phillipines. We are kind of an odd trio, but it has been lovely living together. Our place is settled in "downtown" Yung Shue Wan on Lama Island. Our bottom story is a dress shop, the second floor houses a Chinese family and we occupy the third. We also have a large rooftop patio that looks out on the bustling street below and the small fishing harbor where the ferry docks.

The majority of our co-workers are also housed around the village and so it's always easy to find really amazing people to hang out with. (Which is probably also the reason that this is my first blog in way too long.)

I have just a month longer of living and working here before my seasonal contract ends. From here, I have been invited to spend time with a bunch of my co-workers in their native Phillipine Islands. It should be a good time, as most of them work as guides of various outdoor activities including scuba diving, climbing, rafting, cave, surfing and adventure racing.

I'm hoping the time in the outdoors with out looking after a dozen city kids will rejuvenate me in time for my next work season. And just as in the misunderstanding with my neighbor, something that starts out bitter and awkward can end with smiles and best wishes.

A Thai Boon

December 5th, 2009

From my understanding, Buddhists believe that if you are born with great privilege, then you are deserving because you have earned it through much merit in past lives. Not being Buddhist myself, I don't have such conviction and therefore often spend time contemplating this concept.

Last year, I spent some time living with a family and volunteering in the school of a hilltribe village in Thailand called Ban La Oop. Upon return last week, the family again warmly welcomed me into their modest home without a moment of hesitation. I brought with me armloads of groceries, but even if I hadn't the seven of them would have gladly shared their meals with me.

I learned that the school had recently been closed for a month due to a "government inspection". Even now there are not many classes in session because the teachers need to catch up on missing paperwork. The children have a couple of classes throughout the day but spend a greater amount of time playing in the yard or doing independent study.

I imagined back to my days in school and how excited I would have been, as many of the children in La Oop are, to not have to go to class. Janjira, the eldest daughter of the family I stay with, is perhaps a bit wiser than I was and feels differently about the situation. Education is something that she greatly desires and she is willing to sacrifice for it. This year, at the age of thirteen she will graduate from the highest grade at the La Oop school. At this point, her family must decide if she will go on with school or not. Janjira, unlike some children, has a great desire to go on with school. However it is not so easy for her as it was for my classmates and I in the US.

To continue her education she must commute one hour each-way in the back of a pick-up to a private school in the nearest town. Being the eldest child of five, she is expected to help with the expenses of the family. Although the monthly tuition is not much by western standards, it is not an easy thing for the family to pay for.

Even after spending much of her day studying, doing chores and watching the baby, Janjira musters enough energy to practice her already beautiful English. Always pausing over the words she doesn't know and asking me to spell them out. She has encouraged her whole family to do the same and now they all have by far the best English in the village.

The night before I left, the second eldest, Om shyly admitted that her and her mom share one pair of sandals. The type of sandals they wear literally cost less than I spend on a beer, so I spoiled her a bit with paying an extra dollar to get the cute ones with the flowers.

Despite all this, the family is far from a charity case. They are grateful for all that they have, a healthy loving family, rich soil to grow their food, plenty of clean water, a solid hut and a lovely simple hilltribe village filled with their family, friends and rich traditions.

Not all in this region are so privileged. The road south from La Oop traverses the western rim of Thailand, bordering Burma.

Yesterday, I traveled for nine hours down to and along this road in a songthaew (a pick-up with benches in the back that serves as a taxi.) There are no other public transportation options from La Oop to Mae Sot and the ride can at times be slightly miserable but is always an intriguing one.

I know this ride well from doing it several times last year in order to renew my visa in Mae Sot. There is a constant fluctuation in the number of passengers. I have been the only one and I have been one of 28. Only once have I seen any other foreigners aboard this particular route.

Just being born in the US has given me the privilege to cross almost any border I choose. It is easy to become frustrated with visas but it is so small an inconvenience in comparison with that of so many. As I become too familiar with in San Diego, people sacrifice life savings and jeopardize their lives and freedom to cross a border. If they make it, there is often no chance to make it back to visit the loved ones they left behind. Honestly that's enough for me to really question how it came to be that I was handed so much. The scales are so far tipped that it can become something that I forget to even feel grateful for.

I was reminded as I saw a nervous family being pulled across the border river in a large innertube as I stayed dry and worry free walking across the bridge, American passport in hand.

Aside from just the legal aspects, I have been allotted much more in order to travel. Technically in the US, I am considered to fall just about at the poverty line. This of course I could change at any time and is only because of decisions I have made and my freedom to choose my own lifestyle. I have lived mostly out of my truck for the past year and a half to allow for mobility and to save my limited income for adventure and a little volunteering.

Many people even in the US find this strange. They perhaps feel I have my values out of order, not striving for money and stability for myself. Most Thais feel that it is strange for someone without much money to travel simply because they've never been free of the pressure and desire to provide for their families.

For myself, I have been granted with the stability of a family that does not need to rely on me for financial support and that is lovingly supportive of me leading my adventure filled positive life. If the Buddhists are right, I can't even imagine the merit I must have done to deserve so much privilege.

I passed one of the poorest sections of the region on my songthaew ride. It is filled with refugee camps that some Burmese families have lived in for generations. The simple flimsy bamboo huts seem to fill every available space in some areas. Many of the people that board the songthaew have only dirty and tattered clothes clinging to their skinny frames. Despite the efforts of many NGOs, the refugees from Burma's brutal regime don't have adequate food, healthcare or education.

One mother boarded with her two small children in one of the hardest hit areas. The beautiful little girl and her toddler brother stared at me with curious but unsmiling faces. I'm sure it was as difficult for them to imagine what my life is like as it is for me to comprehend what they must go through.

I tried smiling at them, but I was returned with only heart-breakingly sad eyes and slight, yet solid frowns.

They rode for awhile before ringing the buzzer to get off. A man was standing on the other side of the two lane highway. The children called out excitedly for him as they disboarded. The mother struggled with a rice sack.

Suddenly the woman across from me let out a bloodcurdling scream. Then I heard the squealing of tires. I looked up to the road to see the little boy being narrowly missed by a truck that then began careening out of control. It was up on two wheels now, sideways across the road. A motorbike with two men were unable to stop on time and were forced into a ditch, the man in the back getting knocked off by a branch.

The father ran across the road, scooping up his son and bringing him back to safety. Miraculously, the truck stayed upright, the men from the motorbike hopped right up and the family remained intact. Despite all their hardships and perhaps lack of privilege I saw at that moment the faces of people whom were unmistakably happy to be alive. I hope I never forget that.

American Whirlwind

Nov. 8th, 2009

Three weeks, 3,000 miles in my truck, one flight to the east coast and back, one ride to Vegas and one blown out tire. That is the basic summation of my time spent between finishing work in Washington and flying out to Thailand. It's no wonder I ended up sick as a dog the day before I was supposed to leave the country.

I finished my last Outward Bound course for the season at the end of September. It was a sea kayaking course in the San Juan Islands that was specifically designed for veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan.

The course was a great success, very rewarding and a lot of fun. Afterwards I took a day off to get my Myanmar visa in order (which is not an easy feat when you are living in a "2 stop sign town"). I then spent my remaining couple of weeks in Washington working every day as a logistics coordinator.

The evening of my last day of work was spent locating all of my stuff that I had stashed in various locations around basecamp over the last five months and then stuffing it all back into my truck.

The day before, my friend asked me what I wanted to have for my last dinner on base. I was super tired and trying to take a nap so all that I had answered was "pie....pumpkin pie...." "And..." she pried. "and.... whipcream" was my only response. From this my few co-workers left on base, created an early Thanksgiving celebration. This was really lovely for me because I will be in Asia over the real holiday.

I then began my whirlwind visit of friends and family all over the country. (If I didn't see you, hopefully you will understand the reason after reading my itinerary.)

I spent a night in Seattle, a lunch date in Olympia, a night in Portland, a night on the McKenzie River, a lunch date in Brownsville, a night in Eugene, back to the McKenzie, a night in Chico, a lunch date in Sonoma, a night in Halfmoon Bay, a couple nights in San Diego. I then flew to the East coast to spend a few nights in Baltimore, a night in New York City, and one more night in Baltimore before flying back west. I spent my birthday in San Diego before catching a ride from Barstow to Vegas where I spent two nights with some friends from Texas. I caught a ride back to Barstow, then blew out my tire (luckily within cell phone range this time) on I-5 on my way back to Halfmoon Bay. I stayed there for a couple of nights where I became ill, battled it and willed myself to recover before flying from San Francisco to Bangkok.

Phew, I am currently swaying in a hammock, under a palm tree, along the river Kwai in Thailand and a new wave of exhaustion hit me just thinking about it.

Oh well, I wouldn't have changed a thing, it was so amazing to see everyone that I was able to see, and hopefully I'll be able to see the rest of you on my next adventure in the States.

Until then, I plan to travel at a much more leisurely pace.

Immediately following the Outward Bound Lead Instructor training I jumped into the end of Logistic Coordinator training. This summer I am filling in my time between instructing courses with logistics work. It is a great set up for me. I can be an active member of the Outward Bound community for the entire summer and hopefully save up enough money to spend my winter traveling and volunteering in South East Asia again.

The last night of logistics training we decided to throw a little celebration. We played lots of games that outdoor educators are famous for and then settled around a bon fire. Around midnight, my new coworker Lilita, announced that she had decided to drive down to Chico for the long weekend to visit her boyfriend and attend her friend's graduation party.

For months I had been wanting to go to Eugene that weekend to see the Michael Franti and Spearhead concert. I had reluctantly given up the idea because I didn't want to waste so much money driving there alone.

"I would love to give you a ride! ... uhh, I'm leaving at 4:30 tomorrow morning though."

A few short hours later, I was in Lilita's car with two other new co-workers, Joe Bob from Texas and Rolando from Chile, whom had also elected to come along for the adventure. She dropped us off at the bus station in downtown Eugene later that afternoon.

My uncle Don happened to be giving a slide show of Burma that night in Eugene. It was a benefit to promote Close Up Expeditions and a non-profit organization called Thirst Aid that starts factories in Burma to make clay water filters.

My friends and I walked across town with our packs and made it just in time. I even had the opportunity to meet the founder of Thirst Aid. She generously offered me her card and invited me to contact her while I am in Burma. That was one business card I made sure to put directly in my wallet. I have a feeling it will come into play in a future adventure.

The next few days I spent playing the tour guide for my home town, staying at my Uncle's house in Brownsville, dancing at a concert at the Cuthbert Amphitheater and visiting with a few loved ones. We made it back to basecamp with 10 minutes to spare before work on Monday morning.

With a month to go before I instruct my first course of the summer, I have been living the life of a "logistician". I have already made four trips back and forth between basecamp in Mazama and the San Juan Islands and I will head back there again tomorrow.


My last trip out was to provide training to the new logistics coordinators, Lilita and Paul. I was to show them the ropes of supporting an Outward Bound course and to run a recon mission on other course areas in the San Juans.

This mission took us from Lopez island to Shaw where we easily hitched a ride with a woman that drove out of her way to drop us at the campground. While there we met an old woman that had been peacefully walking down the beach picking things up and putting them into a bucket. Lilita asked what she was hunting for.

"Oh, me? I'm just picking up trash. I used to collect shells, but then I was noticing a lot of trash. So, several years ago I switched over. They leave a trashcan out for me year round." She humbly admitted.

"Thanks a lot! No wonder it always looks so good here." I told her.

"Oh, no thanks necessary." She giggled. "I enjoy it anyhow."

On our trek back to the ferry we discovered bushes filled with ripe Salmon berries. That did it, I was ready to move to the islands. Great people, great scenery, you can take off at any moment in a kayak, and salmon berries. It's almost too much.

We made our way down the road one salmon berry bush to the next until we caught another ride. They took is right to the ferry heading to Orcas Island where we planned to spend the night. Although I have circumnavigated Orcas Island many times, I have not spent much time on it's shores. Paul was the only one of us that had been to the mountain on the island.

"Hmm..." Paul said. "This might make for an interesting night if we don't catch a ride to the park. It's really far to walk."

"Well, that's alright." I responded. "These things have a way of working out, or they don't, and we'll deal."

Both Paul and Lilita full heartedly agreed.

Knowing quite well, the stress that comment would cause for most people, I had to smile to myself when I saw how they responded. I knew I had the perfect two people with me for this mission.

Unbelievably are luck was about to get even better. Our driver picked us up and literally went the extra mile. He took us quite a bit out of his way and into the campground. He then proceeded to call in a personal favor with the park ranger to get us the best available spot. The ranger then takes it upon himself to encourage our driver, Norm, to also drive us all the way up to the top of Mt. Constitution.

"Ah, what the hell!" Norm said. "I'm supposed to meet some guys about work, but what are they gonna do? I'm the one that signs the checks."


He drove us up to the top to show us the world class view of the San Juan Islands. I was a little concerned that he would feel entitled to something from us. I was put at ease when he admitted that he drives by the mountain all the time but hadn't allowed himself an excuse to come up for over two years. He was just as excited about it as we were.

I could have spent all day up there looking down at all the islands and reminiscing over past adventures in the San Juans. Eventually Norm decided his workers had probably waited long enough for him, and so he drove us down and dropped us at our lovely little campsite.

As we were about to snuggle into our sleeping bags under the stars Lilita realized that it might not be a good idea keep the food inside of her borrowed backpack. We didn't have a car or tent to put it into and we had failed to bring rope to do a proper food hang. So, we settled on stuffing it into a bag and hanging it from a tree branch. I know, I know, I'm still embarrassed about it.

About 4 am I was brought out of a deep sleep by the sound of something crunching. Our granola!

I let out a loud "HEY!" and clapped my hands hard. Once I got my headlamp on I saw the culprit. There was a raccoon poised above the bag on the scrawny tree. It didn't want to give the granola up. It stood for a moment then returned to crunch some more of our breakfast.

"HEY!" I yelled again. I have a long held great fear of raccoons from a traumatic experience as a young girl, so there was no way I was going to go over there. Lilita on the other hand, apparently has nerves of steel and stepped in on my losing battle. She just walked right over, grabbed the bag only feet away from the raccoon and kept it safely with her for the rest of the night. I think that I was more scared from watching the scenario then she was walking up there.

The trip back to the truck was accented with more easy ride catching and a fare share more of characters. After such an awesome time, it was difficult for me to leave the islands and go back to the mountains. Although the mountains are beautiful and I love many aspects of living at the Outward Bound basecamp, my heart and soul are with the sea. Most of my favorite activities involve the water. I was comforted knowing that I will be spending more time there again this summer. I suppose things could be worse.

Plunging back into Outward Bound

Heading east on the scenic Cascade Highway, with my new co-worker Rolando, I could feel the distance between the sea and myself growing. However, driving down a road where I know well the beautiful twists and dips provided me the reassuring beckoning of a home I hadn't been to in seven months.

Smiling faces and big hugs abounded as I walked into the Outward Bound basecamp. It was overwhelming to be back with so many people that I care deeply for.

Being an outdoor educator provides for many opportunities to create strong bonds with coworkers and students. Many of whom, I will never see again. The rest, I often don't see for long stretches and have only limited contact with. This has taught me to appreciate each moment with the special people in my life.


The lead instructor training had a much different feeling than I had been expecting. I had imagined the cold unrelenting rain that is common in the San Juan Islands this time of year. Instead I experienced what it is like to flip over into the cold waters for rescue practices and then actually be able to warm up under the blue skies and shining sun. I was only in shivering pain for a few minutes at a time instead of half of a day. It was great!

Near the end of the training we were practicing rescues in Deception Pass, which is known for its strong currents. Just as I was in the crux move of a paddle float self rescue, my friend Chris exclaimed, "Oh! There's a whale right there!"

"Yeah, right." I didn't even consider believing her as I was quickly getting pushed downstream and trying to maintain my balance in a difficult move.

"No! I'm serious, it's right behind you!"

With one leg still stretched out in the water I glanced behind me just in time to see the spout of a whale. Oh my! I scrambled the rest of the way into my boat in time to see its back bridge out of the water.

We just looked at each other with disbelieving smiles. Despite my constant surveillance of the water and 60 days spent paddling in the San Juans the year prior, I had only seen one pod of whales in the area.

Ah, it's going to be a good summer.

The Lone Star State

I've finally done it! I have stayed in one city, without leaving, for over a month. I can't even remember the last time I did that. It's been at least a couple of years. So, you may be wondering, where is this amazing place that has lured me in to cool my heals. Would you believe I am in Texas?!

I flew from Thailand to Arizona, spent a few days relaxing and hiking with my parents, then started up my little truck and drove through the wide open spaces of the South-west. I was warned by many that this is a markedly dull drive, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. After not driving anything much more powerful than a moped for several months, it felt great to be back behind the wheel.

I blasted my stereo and took a calling from the landscape, cleared my mind, then let it roam freely. The wind ripping across the prairies filled me with energy and made me feel intensely alive.

I drove until it was dark and the drove some more. I was less in a hurry to get to Austin than I was intoxicated by driving. The road at night was densely populated by deer and so I slowed my speed drastically. I putted along under 50 while some others raced past me. I saw one car later smashed on the side of the road with a deer laying in front of it. An ambulance had just shown up. I had my own encounter shortly after.

A song played by a native american flute randomly began playing on my ipod. I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. The light illuminated the body of a buck galloping alongside of me on the otherwise empty road. I could see clearly the eyes of the deer shining at me as it's graceful, powerful body ran alongside me. Seemingly suspended in slow motion, I had only to move my wheel slightly and we both continued on our paths, unharmed, but certainly affected.

Once my eyes finally grew weary I found a safe place to park and crawled into the back of my truck.

The next morning I found a truckstop cafe and realized that I was truly in Texas. It was everything I could have hoped for, from the extra grease heaped on my eggs and biscuit to the watery coffee served by the sweet yet exhausted waitress.

Once I arrived in Austin I had a few days to adjust and move my belongings into one of the six bedrooms of this giant house. However, since then I have been working almost non-stop. Even up to 15 hours in a day on one occasion.

A few of my good friends that I met six years ago, during my first year living in San Diego, moved out to Austin a few years back. They all still live together in one of the homes that my friend Jose owns. They had been trying to talk me into moving here as well for some time, so I finally gave in. I am staying for a couple of months at the house and working for my friend at a plant nursery.

I arrived just in time. Soon after I got here the South by Southwest music festival started. I was excited to see all the free shows , but was predicting that I would probably have to see most of the hip hop on my own. My friends here mostly have different music tastes from myself.

But nope, I should have known it would work out. My good friend from Oregon randomly heard that I was in Austin and got ahold of me. He was perfoming some shows at the festival.

On the Thursday of the festival I got off work early (only six hours of work) and headed downtown. I ended up having a super fun time with my friends from Oregon and stayed downtown until Saturday afternoon when I had to be at work again. It's so funny how these things work out sometimes. I really couldn't have asked for a better scenario. It brought me full circle to celebrate with people from my past in a city I had just moved to.

Between my work hours I have also been able to fit in some of my favorite activities. I joined a Bikram Yoga gym and have been working, for 1 1/2 hours at a time, on the 26 poses in a room set at 105 degrees with high humidity. I also have been able to do little paddling.

When I first arrived in Austin I posted an add on craigslist looking for access to a surfski. When I lived in San Diego I joined a boat club where I could borrow a surfski, which is similar to a sea kayak but even longer and thinner (aka tippier). I also started racing in competitions and got really hooked. I was hoping to find a similar arrangment here.

My first reply was not exactly promising. It went something like this:

"Hey bro, you should get a jet ski instead. But if you do, make sure to get the standup kind, that is unless you like to sit while you pee too."

Yeah... he really hit that one on the head.

My second reply, while still assuming I was male, was much more lucrative. He informed me of a local online paddling forum and invited me paddle his extra boat. We met up and I got to take his "Texas Safari Boat" for a spin. It is a boat specifically made for a marathon race here in Texas. It is similar to a surfski, but is a lot tougher and has space to store food and water for the 48+ hour race.

I also met another guy on the forum that has an extra surfski, so I have also been paddling with him. It is a beautiful place for day paddles. Town Lake goes right through the highrises of downtown and then weaves along natural cliffs. There are lots of birds and in some spots, the water is like turtle soup. They make a disheartening thump against the bottom of my boat when I see them too late.

It has been nice to live more like a typical american with a job where I have my evenings free, making over minimum wage, and sleeping in a bed that isn't on the ground or legal to drive down the freeway. But, at the same time I haven't been able to get my other way of life out of my head. I have stayed in touch with some people from the hilltribe village where I volunteered and want to get back there to help some more. I have also been looking into volunteering in Burma for a month or two. I can't wait for my summer that I will spend instructing Outward Bound courses for adults and young adults. And I'm trying to figure out a way to sponsor a very deserving little girl so that she can continue her education.

For now, I plan to enjoy my next couple of weeks with my friends and working hard at the nursery. Then I will start the drive up to Washington state so that I can start another season as an instructor for Outward Bound. Hopefully between the money I am making at the plant nursery and instructing courses I will be able to afford returning to South East Asia next fall to wander and do some more volunteering.

Don Det - hammocks and coconuts

As it turned out, I did have another day of riding the bus. The day did end with a boat ride though and I am now on the island of Don Det in the 4000 Islands region of Laos. I can say now, the trip was definitely worth it.

While I was in Pakse, as chance would have it, some french friends that I had met on my journey down were staying in the same guest house as me. They were also headed on to the 4000 islands the next day and had gotten an insiders tip on the best place to stay there. So, I shared the last leg of my journey in the back of a truck overcrowded with pigs, chickens, random belongings and Laotian families to the beach and then on a longboat to Don Det island.

The boat took us to a less populated section of the island and dropped us off at the guesthouse. The island pace of life immediatly overtook me. I forgot about the discomfort of the past five days and grew a huge smile. Despite my heavy pack, I felt as those I was floating along the dirt path along the river as I saw the scattered bungalows each with a direct view of the river from their porch equiped with hammocks.

Other than kayaking, I barely ventured farther than a few hundred feet from my hammock. The guest house had a restraunt with an amazing view of the river and several more hammocks on their deck. I really enjoyed the family that ran it and the incredibly laid back vibe of the place. When I wanted to order one of their world class fresh coconut shakes or an order of banana chocolate pancakes I would have to find one of the girls and patiently wait for them to get around to it. Everything ordered or taken from the cooler was self-recorded in a little notebook to be self-tallied and settled at the end of the stay. With food and drinks and my own bungalow I only spent about US$10 a day.

I was still feeling pretty weak from my illness and long journey. So, for that price I didn't feel too guilty wallowing away my days studying the river, reading in my hammock, sitting on the bridge watching the sunset, ordering yet another coconut shake and laughing with my french friends, the owners and other few patrons of the guesthouse.

The only thing that got me out of there was the possibility of kayaking. I set out one morning with my friend Freddy to explore by boat. We found a kayaking outfit that mostly does tours but agreed to rent us some boats if we promised not to go downstream of the landing. This wasn't much of a problem since the river is more like a large lake there and the current wasn't too strong.

So, we headed upriver and began paddling alongside another island. Very soon, we noticed children calling to us. They were so excited to see a couple of foreigners. They would stop their play in the water or along the shore to jump up and down, wave and call out to us. Some would run along the shore trying to keep us in their sites. Another couple of miles up the river we found a little beach and stopped to relax. We had barely been there a minute when I got the feeling that I was being watched. I turned around to see five little heads duck behind a tree across the beach. When they shyly tried to take another peak I called hello to them and waved.

They burst out with nervous giggling and reluctantly began to approach us as a pack. Each one didn't want to be in the front and tried to hide behind the others. With a few panicked back tracks they finally came close enough to get a good view of us.

Freddy and I joked around with them a bit and shared our snacks. I stood up to play a game with them, but as they saw me at full height, they got so scared they all took off screaming and running. I laughed out loud and then did a cartwheel. That stopped them from their retreat and they started attempting cartwheels themselves, but still left some distance until I sat down again.

Freddy handed me a beautiful little shell that he found in the sand. As the children saw that I was interested in it, they began collecting shells for me as well. "Oh, thank you, it's beautiful." I told each child as they handed me a shell. They would giggle then run off to find me another. Soon my whole hat was filled with shells and they still didn't want to end the game. I had no intentions of removing any shell from the beach that they belonged, so I eventually had to stop them and rescatter the shells.

We tried paddling upriver further but the current got really fast between some of the islands, so we just explored some of the farming islands checked out the water buffalos cooling themselves on the muddy banks, then headed back to our island.

Three books, countless coconut shakes, and one week after arriving I finally decided that it was time to get back to Thailand so that I could do a few things before my flight back to the US. I arranged the boat ride back to the mainland and said my goodbyes to all my new friends at the guesthouse. Just before I left, "mama" and the three girls that ran the place called me over to give me blessings for my trip. This is a tradition in South East Asia to protect people on journeys, however it is very offensive to the spirits to cut off any of the strings. They each took a string and carefully brushed it up in down my arm while chanting, they tied the strings to my wrist. One was specific to help me regain my full strength, and mama chanted for my safe journey and for me to one day return to Don Det. With that she gave me a surprisingly strong squeeze on my shoulders and set me off in the little boat.