Do you sex?

Last night, my new friend Shona and I cheaped out and (stupidly) didn’t take a cab back to our hostel and walked 20 minutes alone at 1 am. Just about the dumbest thing I’ve done my entire trip. A guy came out of his house and followed us for a bit then caught up and asked first if we were Turkish, to which we said no, then he said,  “Do you sex?” I had to ask him to repeat himself three times because I thought his accent was just confusing me. Then I had to say “No we’re tourists you pervert!” LOL He just turned around and went back to his house thank god. I was terrified until I figured out what he wanted and that he wasn’t going to do anything to us. So, two foreign-looking women walking the street at 1 am here are assumed to be prostitutes. At least we made it home alive.

Bailing on Bangkok

After hearing startling reports of dead civilians and subway bombings in Bangkok, I’ve decided to cancel plans to visit Thailand’s capital city. I’m up for great adventures, but it appears visiting the city of din would be just plain stupid, esp. considering I’m a woman traveling alone.

This is very disappointing… I was looking forward to seeing the grand palace, the ladyboys in their native habitat, and what they meant when they said, “one night in Bangkok makes the hard man humble…”

My alternative plan is to fly to Chiang Mai, one of the older, more traditional cities of Thailand, or to stay in the beachy area down south. I’m loving it here and would love to spend another week soaking up the sunshine and contemplating the meaning of life. I could do the scuba certification I’ve been wanting to do, and could do some more writing. I already know I’m coming back to thailand someday so chilling out is certainly not a total sacrifice…

Anyway, not much new to write about. Wednesday night I attended the Half-moon party, the little sister of the world-famous Full-moon party of Ko Phangan. It’s a huge hippie-rave-trance party in the middle of the forest. In the midst of black lights, neon body paint, “mushroom” treats, eardrum-bursting techno music, and buckets of boozy drinks I got a taste of what a night at burning man might be like. I’m not much for the scene, but I had a great time participating with some new friends from my resort.

Speaking of my resort, I’ve been blessed with the good fortune of finding a bungalow on the rocks overlooking the sea for twenty bucks a night. Here at Mai Pen Rai in Thansadet, they turn off the electricity every day between midnight and 11 am, and from 4-6 pm; and the only ways out of here are by rental jeep or a daily taxi at 10 am. But the beach restaurant/bar serves up great reggae all day with their amazing fruit shakes and shaded hammocks; and there’s a cheap Thai masseur right at waters edge, should the tranquility of the tiny beach not be enough to soothe your nerves.

Today, made an excursion to the nearby town, Haad Rin, to get a bit of retail therapy and pedicure. It’s pretty low-key, the dirt roads lined with cafes, tattoo parlors and cheap clothing outlets. Apparently this is THE place to subject oneself to a spell under the needle, as evidenced by the many tattoo and piercing shops in the town… I would say 1 shop for every four spaces. Fortunately, I finally settled on my last tattoo and vowed to never get another last year, so the temptation is long gone for me. My resolve was steeled today when the masseur at my resort told me that although my tattoo was beautiful, I was a beautiful girl and did not need such a big tattoo to look beautiful. My response was that I didn’t get it to look beautiful LOL

I read some more of my current book, “The Omnivore’s Dilemma.” It’s about the writer’s journey into the food industry. If you appreciated last year’s films “King Corn” or “Food Inc.,” you would be interested in this book. While the author touches on much of the material covered in the aforementioned films, he delves a bit deeper into the science behind food processing, and writes of his own experience attempting to track the sources of the foods we find in our local supermarkets. After reading the first half of the book, I finally see the true value of buying local, sustainably produced foods. The book brings to light the farce that the “organic” label has become, exposing the legal loopholes and profiteering that occur behind the scenes of major “industrialized” organic farming operations. It’s a brilliant but disheartening read, when I’m left with the sense that, short of driving miles to small-scale farms that practice true organic farming, I will never be able to wholly support this alternative to the perverse and poisonous food industry that exists today.

I won’t resort to quoting facts that already can be found with a simple google search. But I will say that it’s obvious most of foods we find at our grocers cost us more than the cheap price we see on the shelf. As consumers who purchase good old-fashioned beef from our grocer, we support feed lots that treat their cows inhumanely, and poison us through use of synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, and antibiotics; as taxpayers we are subsidizing a corn industry that poisons our food supply in the form of high fructose corn syrup, preservatives and other synthetic chemicals derived from corn which have been directly linked to diabetes, cancer, birth defects, and obesity.

And just because the package says “organic,” it does not mean it’s healthier or tastes better!

Sorry… Back to travel memories and happy happy stuff!

Ile des pins part 2

We spent the whole day at Kuto bay on the ile des pins, swimming in the stunning blue water, and basking in the sun on the beach of fine white sand. I realized that we are here at the perfect time of year; it’s the cusp of tourist season and we’ve experienced the island without masses of tourists. The beach was lovely, except for the handfuls of plastic bottle caps we collected at the top of the shoreline.

Before grabbing the ferry back to Noumea we sipped some white wine in the little bar nearby, a this cute little tabby cat walked up to woo me away from my snack. He was looking unnaturally thin, so I tossed him a few of my cheetos. I never imagined a cat eating cheetos, but he did. Then he cleaned his butt and slept under our table.

I miss my Penny