Written by Soumya
Sou so dai, Sabai fam. It’s your fearless knee-slapping leader, and I’m posted up in a back-alley noodle & dumpling shop in Phnom Penh as I write this, surrounded by bamboo walls, whirring fans, and the sound of motorbikes racing by. As I reflect on the last few months, you eleven intrepid, transformed young travelers who departed this morning in a flurry of hugs and oversized bags are hurtling through the sky somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, making your long journey home. By the time you read this, you may already be luxuriating in your own bed, ignoring the mess you left in your room and wondering if this was all a dream. As I sit here nursing my jasmine tea and fending off mosquitoes, I’m reminded of all of the moments that made our dynamic mosaic of a group – the roses, buds, and thorns – from the very beginning.
We began our journey together on a sunny September day in the LAX airport with hugs, dance moves from Trevor, and both nerves and excitement. We buckled in for a long, sixteen-hour plane ride where we watched the same movies, made small talk, and held our pee so we didn’t bother our new groupmates. We touched down in Singapore and explored the butterflies together before buckling in to another flight and finally arriving in lush, steamy Chiang Mai.
We met our trusty van drivers for the first time and chugged along the road to Mae Rim, where Ajahn Petchara and Ajahn Pat Nom and their pups welcomed us with open arms and paws. Over the next few days, we learned how to sing about ‘Changs’ in Thai, rode wobbly bikes into town for the best noodles ever, celebrated Ava’s birthday with things we already loved about her, ate a small mountain of pad thai, sweat our hearts out dancing to our favorite folk Thai number, learned the art of meditation for the first time in Ajahn Pat Nom’s temple, and got drenched in the rain haggling our way through the Chiang Mai markets. We ended our time in Mae Rim with a beautiful night of banana lantern wishes and dancing in traditional silks while the Ajahns blessed us for our journey.
From Mae Rim, we bumped along to Pun Pun (Soumya and Young Trevor made a quick detour to fix his little hand friend) and were greeted by Nada in her favorite spot. In Pun Pun, we began our days practicing yoga with Krit and breathing our way into new positions, fending off spiders, and figuring out how to befriend the cold showers and the dirt in our beds. We let loose in the mud and slapped cob on the walls with Mandy and Jao, and we made fast friends with little barrels of energy Arun, Bong, Bokashi, and Ella, tiring ourselves out racing them around the room. We learned about sustainable menstruation with P’Nang, chomped into some freshly-harvested honeycomb with Jao, accidentally smeared chili into our faces planting seeds with P’Chan, and enjoyed a nice cold bevvie from the Pun Pun Cafe. P’Bee led us into a restorative meditation so relaxing we thought Danica had left the earth, while Sheena taught us how easy it is to make soap and kombucha. We also slowed down here– we started learning how to play the guitar and learned Leora’s a little music angel, we began our round robin of Thai-themed books, we stayed up at night playing Wunda, and we helped Kate cook up a magnificent Mexican feast for the whole community. We left with hugs, an odd but highly infectious Southern accent, and our eyes open to inspiring and different ways of how to live in this world and be happy.
From Pun Pun, our vans slowly climbed into the beautiful foggy, lush green mountain village of Hin Lad Nai. After a memorable lunch of bamboo soup, we met our homestay families for the first time and began realizing how utterly useless our five words of Thai were. We did our best anyways, and with a combination of our notebooks, charades, Google Translate, and Krit, we played with our host siblings, ate serving after serving of some of the best food (and rice) ever, tried our hands at traditional weaving, and developed a unanimous crush on Tho. We learned we were pretty inept at picking tea, a little better at singing Love Me Like You Do with my host brother Atu, and pretty decent at making cups out of bamboo. We listened to life lessons from Krit’s Roots & Shoots, played Boiled Peanuts in a Magic Hat for the first time, ate lunch in a tiny hut in a rice field from veggies plucked from the ground, and did yoga at the top of a mountain after a long day of hiking. In Hin Lad Nai, we learned how to appreciate simple moments of connection with each other and our host families by simply making paper airplanes or drinking a cup of steaming tea together.
After our heartfelt goodbyes to Hin Lad Nai, we made our way to Chiang Dao, where we woke up every day with a view of the great mountain among the clouds, luxuriated in steaming hot springs by the river before breakfast, and played in (and survived) a day at the sticky waterfalls. We stuffed ourselves with Malee’s cooking, made plans for our days in the southern islands, and got reacquainted with the internet. In Chiang Dao, we slapped together an impromptu little gratitude on the guitar, spiced up our bellies with papaya salad, and sparked our love of Fishbowl (Danica met her match in an equally-invested Soumya). We also explored our feelings of discomfort after our hill tribe village visit, asking important questions about voyeurism, ethical tourism, and our values as travelers and guests here.
From Chiang Dao, we descended upon Chiang Mai in full force, ready for massages galore, Kelli’s fluffy carrot slides (actually, I’m not sure I could ever be ready for those), and even more elephant pants. We made connections between the resource extraction in “Avatar” and Hin Lad Nai, walked through the city streets until our feet were sore, and chef-ed it up in cooking class with Shalom. We let loose at open mic night at the jazz club, hooting and hollering for the Joker and leaving after midnight. We scaled a small mountain to visit one of the most beautiful temples we’d seen yet and wondered at the aged, stone walls, and that night we went out dressed to the nines for a riverside dinner. By the end, Chiang Mai was our new favorite city.
After the decadence of city life, we were welcomed at the IWP by P’Ouyporn and Ginger who both grounded and stimulated us with their wise and peaceful presences. Our Pun Pun mansion was a home for us as we had a concert one night, Ava whipping out her harmonica, Kate her flute, Trev on the uke, and Sheldon on guitar. We made art and finally finished the flag (featuring Kelli’s khao soi), marveled at Le the leader, and kept stealing each others’ bikes. Laughs broke through silent lunch, Claire taught us how to whoop ass in kickboxing and we stumped P’Ning when she showed up for our deep relaxation session only to find us all dead asleep. We learned how to recognize our mental clouds, listened deeply to each other, and walked in wonderful silence through the paddy fields at sunset. We left better knowing our role in activism and systems of power and inspired to be more present and compassionate to ourselves and others.
Next we went to the forest monastery – I’m tempted to whip out a Leora-style “pass!”. We joined the cult of white clothes, heard about the barbecue tiger at least three times, fasted by day and gorged on Nutella sandwiches by night, raged at the patriarchy, slept during meditation and chanting, hiked behind the monks barefoot for an hour too many, and experimented with vows of silence. Most of us left resolved never to return but grateful for what we learned from that unique experience in a traditional Buddhist retreat.
An early morning departure took us to Surat Thani where we began our love affair with Thai movies. Then on Trev’s birthday, we tuk tuk-ed, bus-ed, boated, ferried, and trucked our way over to New Heaven Dive School. We celebrated Trev’s birthday overlooking the ocean, got over our fear of fish snorkeling in the water, earned some scrapes making it up to 21 passes in Trev’s volleyball passion class, and dived into our week of scuba. Many of us mermaids fell in love with scuba (and our instructors), some of us panicked and overcame it, and all of us realized that there was actually something deeply peaceful and meditative about diving underwater. Pey even got in touch with her inner sea creature and decided this would be her home in the spring.
We moved on to more days of sun & fun during Student-Directed Travel on Koh Pha Ngan where we met Craig the millionaire, took a tumble or two hiking into town, and whipped out Spot It and Euchre. We kicked butt at Muay Thai (SO much sweat was involved) and fell/cartwheeled/jumped/dived off of our SUP boards one or two (or three.. okay, at least twenty) times. (There may also have been a sunken kayak rescue at one point.) In Surat Thani, we made our plans for Krung Thep and were riveted by OMG! the movie. We slayed at Halloween karaoke, were entranced (and horrified) at the Muay Thai ring, paid our respects to the Emerald Buddha, got a tattoo or two, explored art and a haunted house, ate at an Anthony Bourdain-certified restaurant, had a roaring good time at drag cabaret, and explored ancient Buddhist history and architecture at the Reclining Buddha. Things went a little downhill from there…
We rolled into Siem Reap, but the good times did not. Illness besieged us and some of our comrades posted up with the IV hookup in room 216. Our thoughts & prayers were with them as we wandered through incredible Khmer history at Angkor Wat with our guides Cho and Ratana, met the tree where Angelina Jolie did her thing in “Tomb Raider”, tried to outsmart the audacious monkeys stealing G’s medicine, and were met with the kindness of strangers. We learned about the tragedy of US bombing and landmines in Cambodia, explored our confusion of the different sides in the Khmer Rouge genocide, and were also struck by the generosity and resilience of a people who’d endured so much.
Eventually, we made our way down to Battambang where the children at PTD revived us and brought us back from the brink of implosion and spirals of sickness. We “clapped our hands”, went down by the river one too many times, hokey pokey’ed the heck out of those kids and got oodles of smiles and adoring hugs in return. With the kids, we went shopping for green and red apples (some of our pink-capped sellers struck a mean sale), learned how to express that we’re feeling happy or sad (getting applause and big smiles either way), and learned we may or may not want to be ‘Teacha’ after all. G led the class through an adorable pen-pal initiative with her own elementary school in California. And we were left in awe at the millions of bats exiting the cave into the dusky sky, the incredible acrobatic feats at the one and only Phare Ponleu Selpak circus, and our night of joyful dancing and releasing lanterns with the PTD kids who took us (especially Nella) under their wing at the water festival.
We then braved a long ride into Phnom Penh (a dusty bag of almonds were fought over, screen time was demanded; ice cream appeased a desperate van) and posted up at a party of a hostel. Things sombered up when we witnessed the gravity of the tragedy of S-21 and the Killing Fields and were left contemplating both the capacity for horror and violence and also hope and generosity of the human spirit. We left with a lot of questions about the history of the genocide in Cambodia, the contribution of the US to the war, and what our role as individuals should be today as people all over the globe continue to face violence and repression in different ways. We also found time for play as we enjoyed a raucous dinner out featuring a delirious Ava and at least three desserts for Kate (YGG) and an afternoon of laughter and acrobatics with Trevor literally bouncing off the walls at the trampoline hall.
Our final destination was the sleepy, peaceful riverside of Kampot, where we meandered our way past fishing villages on our SUP boards, narrowly avoided two thunderstorms on the water, grooved along with Annie’s dance moves on the boat, learned Ava is a Mafia boss queen and shouldn’t be messed with, watched Julia Roberts & George Clooney fall in love (again), and tried long red peppercorn for the first time at La Plantation. Noodles & dumps were eaten, mangroves planted and mud fights with naked children had. Our time in Kampot ended with us jumping off the dock hand-in-hand and watching the sun set behind the bend in the river as we listened to Sam share her learnings about alternatives to capitalism and reflections on the semester.
From the ocean, we made our last trip back into Phnom Penh and enjoyed a final lunch together of absolutely scrummy dumplings and noodles. And finally, between the banks of the mighty Mekong River and a high-rise rooftop overlooking the twinkling, bustling city, we closed the chapter on the last ten weeks we’ve lived, learned, and laughed together as an at-times dysfunctional but loving little family.
I know one day I’ll leave my home
Here in the valley and climb up to that field so fair
And when I’m called and counted in
That final tally, I know that I will see you there
Oh my dear friends, I truly love
To hear your voices lifted up in radiant song
Though through the years we all have made
Our separate choices, we’ve ended here where we belong
-The Farthest Field (a Plum Village song)
We’ve all had different paths to this program. Some of us just weren’t ready for what was next, some sought to push themselves, some reached for self-understanding, some just needed something new. Over these last few months, we’ve seen our group bend and not break, meet challenges with grace and positivity, ask and advocate for what they need, hold themselves and each other accountable, practice forgiveness, let our hair down, “boss up”, push ourselves and each other to do better and always make space for each person’s process. We’ve questioned everything that we knew, came to appreciate things taken for granted, reconnected with our loves (books, music, kids, laundry), and established healthy habits that we hope will endure. Most importantly, we built a community of loving, caring, curious individuals ready for whatever came their way and eager to explore themselves and the places and people we met along the way.
It was our hope to build a community that would comfort and push to the edge simultaneously, that would offer each person acceptance and a hand when they needed it, that would provide companionship on shared journeys and support on those more individual challenges, that would invite each person to be awake to the changes they could experience, and that would ultimately send each person off anew — closing the chapter on a grand adventure, but returning home with eyes wide open.
As we close, we think of this poem by Mary Oliver:
“Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
-Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese”
Wherever you are, we hope you remember the family of things we created together – it will travel with you wherever you go. Leaving, too, is part of the process of growing and becoming – and I know that each one of us takes home a memory, a habit, a practice, a relationship, a skill, an idea, a question, a love that will endure for a long, long time. Thank you for letting us be part of this journey. It’s been an honor.
With BIG Love and mini hearts,
Soumya