Ember Travels

I'm on the bus to Bangkok quietly scanning the passengers around me, when the lady across the isle reaches into her pocket and removes a small object. I predict with unmistakable clarity what is going to happen  next. She raises the object to her face, and...bingo! the moment I have been waiting for. I have been conducing a curious experiment during the past week regarding this particular action and the Thai's  obsession with this small object. I find it humorous that this object we as Westerners rarely use and is only available at drug stores has become an addiction in Thailand, fanagling its way into every checkout stand, convenience store and street vendor shelf in the country. I silently chuckle to myself and recall that I've seen this particular action accomplished by different people at least three times in the past hour. The seemingly Vicks VapoRub obsession is in full swing, and I am convinced that good ol Vick can thank Thailand for singlehandedly attributing to a ...

Disclaimer: Before reading any further, you must first watch the following video as a precaution to dislodge any thoughts that I’ve gone totally insane. Cheers! Traveling has done wonders from my imagination. Insert rational realist-->send traveling for six months--> receive an imaginative genius. The pre-travel Ember dreaded Disney movies, they are  so  unrealistic and animation is intended for the sole purpose of entertaining children and small minded adults, come on people grow up. Now, I kinda dig them. The pre-travel Ember got annoyed with people always entertaining the  what ifs  of life, especially the ridiculous ones that would never, ever come true. One night in Morocco, as Sam and I lay in our tent in the Sahara shivering and dreaming of sleep, he asked,  “how much do you think it would cost to get a monkey that would warm my feet every night?”  I was entertained at the preposterity of his inquiry, but knew a question like that would ne...

I am fairly convinced that Laos is a country filled with schemes brewing amongst the locals in every corner of inhabited land.  Walking down any street in Laos is like being a star in the Ringling Bros. Circus. To them I am a clown and they greet me with yelps, woos and barking in all forms of broken English.  But the most common greeting I receive comes in the highly annoying and extremely ineffective sales pitch. Silk scarves, jungle tours, long tail boats, watches and tuk tuks; everything under the sun consistently bombarding me. I really don't mind the effort, but after five men yelling, "tuk tuk" in high pitched voices within the span of a single city block, I think someone should inform these locals that this is no way to sell to a Westerner.  It isn't just Laos. I have been approached with the most terrible sales pick ups from, "excuse me miiiis, very good price, only five minutes" to the suspiciously dangerous, "I would like you to meet my uncle...

If there was an award for the country with the worst infrastructure, Laos would get five gold stars. The roads are a masterpiece of dirt and rock winding its way through the jungle mountains just wide enough for one and a half cars to pass. The towns are a little better, boasting ten yard bursts of pavement between another hundred yards of dirt, the intermittent bouncing onto and off of pavement is enough to jar your brains out, not to mention the continuous curves that could make anyone carsick. Combine that with the zooish policies of the bus companies and you've got a full bred circus. Everything that the bus company spews out is complete bogus. The ride will take four hours: false, there will be a bathroom on board: false, the bus is air conditioned: false! I found myself en route to Vang Vieng stuck on a four turned eight hour ride, sweating profusely, trying to relieve my throbbing head on a bus that was clearly not designed for these roads. Rachel and I finally pulled into t...

It’s not as bad as it sounds. I mean, I didn’t single handedly get my dear friend kicked onto the streets, it was more of a joint effort; a combination of misunderstanding, a fierce game of B.S. and my ridiculous laugh that led to the demise of G’s lease. Guillaume (aka G) and I go all the way back to my first week in Melbourne. We met during my online friend hunting spree (at the gym, of course), instantly hit it off, bonded at a bar over $5 pints and our North American-ness. He is a die hard Quebecan and an all things Canadian enthusiast (hockey and poutine top the list). He told me his name was Guillaume and I instantly nicknamed him G. Just like me, G had a hell of a time when he first arrived in Melbourne. As I scrubbed away behind a dishwasher at a Lebanese restaurant, G woke up at 4 AM each morning to sweep floors at the local supermarket. We both fell from corporate glory into the world to mindless minimum wage jobs, but lucky for me G was a few months ahead of me. By the time ...

The chatters and shrieks of ten year olds flow from the windows of my bus as we roll through the Vietnamese countryside. The floor is stacked several boxes high with ceramic tiles and a kitchen sink is blocking the isle, so anyone wishing to pass must shrewdly shuffle around the corners or jump over the beast. I can’t decide if it’s a school bus or a hardware store delivery van. We just stopped to pick up more passengers and a thirty something lady slipped into the seat next to me, placing her hand on my leg. Awkward.  While I am debating whether to casually move my leg over or wiggle it a little, she looks down, acknowledging the position, raises her hand and replaces it, now grasping my knee. She clearly wants it here...maybe its my new $8 Ferrari brand jeans? Irresistible. Oh, and did I mention someone just started playing the Titanic soundtrack? Thank you Vietnam, my heart will go on.  How did I become part of this bus circus anyway? It all started with my Halong...

According to LonelyPlanet, Luang Prabang is arguably the most romantic city in southeast Asia, and I would also like to add, an outdoor lover's paradise. The sleepy little town is perfectly perched above the Mekong, sandwiched between another parallel-running tributary, boasting awe inspiring views on either side of town. And when the sun goes down the streets fill with locals selling handmade silk scarves, quilted pillows and silver goods galore at the night market. Outside of the locality are miles of windy jungle roads leading to countless waterfalls, hidden villages and caves. The Kuang Si Falls are a favorite among tourists and locals alike and Rachel and I were determined to check them out. Most people hire a tuk-tuk, aka motorcycle converted three wheeler or sometimes truck with a large trailer that can hold anywhere from 3-12 people, to make the 40 mile round trip journey to the falls. We however, had settled on a much less conventional method of transportation; good old fa...

Seemed to be the big dilemma before my trip to Laos. I had heard horror stories about the bus, but if I chose the slow boat I would be diving in head first, committed to two days, and what if it turned out terrible? Luckily, my misfortunes with the slow boat happened right off, so the rest of the trip was relatively event-less. The slow boat chugged down the river for two long days, drifting to a stop now and then just long enough for the captain to tighten a few bolts and for the passengers to observe the ever growing cloud of murky gray oil seeping from the engine. Every few kilometers we would dock to jam a few more locals on board.  Their arms heaping full of squirming chickens and bags of rice, it was always a wonder that they managed to fit and we did not capsize. The arrival of the slow boat must be a monumental moment in the daily lives of river dwelling Laotians because it seemed that the whole town gathered to bade the venturers farewell. The children ran naked along the ...

Thailand was an absolute dream and if it weren't for my expiring visa, I might have said there forever, or at least abandoned my remaining travel plans and stuck around as long as the bank account would permit. I had now  crossed paths with enough seasoned travelers that I was beginning to acquire a rather lengthy mental file on my next destination, Laos. It was notorious for lazy people, horrible roads and the mandatory activity for all backpackers; tubing down the Mekong River and partying in riverbank bars. I would soon discover that traveling to Laos was no easy feat and definitely not for the weary, or weak stomached. Traveling in Thailand came with its fair share of ups and downs, and I quickly learned that the letters "VIP" in front of any form of transportation meant absolutely nothing, and "air conditioned" could be anything from what you may currently be conjuring up to riding in the back of a truck down the freeway with wind blowing my sweat away. Bot...

On the last day of the retreat, I was so happy to leave that I could hardly meditate. My last two sessions weren't the best, but I was confident in what I had learned and eager to implement some of the concepts such as living intentionally, spreading love and kindness and a meditation session into my daily routine. As the taxis pulled away a bomb of relief and chatter exploded among us. For the first time, I was able to meet the people I had spent the past four days with. Part of me felt like I already knew them really well, then I realized I just knew what they looked like really well; I didn't even know which countries they were from! That night we all went out for dinner and spent hours discussing the retreat, our travels, our daily lives and how the experience had changed us. I soon discovered there was an artificial intelligence Phd, a yoga and meditation teacher, an advertising executive from New York, a medium and a psychiatrist among the group. And despite our many diff...

Dong, dong, dong, the sound grew more intense with each clash of the stick against the metal gong.  I remembered Joelee's threat that if our room light wasn't on by five A.M. he would ring the gong outside of our door, and I immediately flicked the light switch. I had tossed on the thin mattress supported by a built in concrete bed frame all night and was in no state to think about meditation or personal enlightenment at this hour. I reluctantly lifted myself out of bed and my day proceeded as such: 5:30 chanting meditation 6:00 yoga 7:00 breakfast 8:00 discussion group-my favorite hour of the day where we were allowed to talk and ask Joelee any questions about Buddhism or meditation. 10:00 walking meditation, sitting meditation 12:00 lunch 1:00 walking meditation, sitting meditation 6:00 dinner 7:00 walking meditation, sitting meditation 8:30 chanting meditation 9:00 lying meditation, bed It seemed like there was a routine for everything. Before we meditated we had to chant, b...