Nothing Special

Sitting on a beautiful deck feeling the damp Mekong air slide across my glistening skin as the afternoon rainstorm moves in. I just finished reading "The Beach" while sitting in front of the small row of bamboo bungalows that will be our home for the next couple of days. I don't know how to describe this place. It is kind of an average of many of the places we have been. Not too extravegant, relativelly peaceful, but not like Muang Ngoi. The water is nice, but it is murky. Strangely however, I enjoy not really loving any one part of this place. Maybe that is why yesterday's bike ride was so meangingful.

Located in the southern tip of Laos, the Island of Don Khong is part of an archipeligo in the Mekong River delta. Surrounded by slowly moving water, murky and brown like you would imnagine rivers in this area to be, the islands are a pleasant place to spend some time. The landscape on the island is not covered with picturesque monoliths or painted limestone cliffs. Instead, plot after plot of partially flooded rice fields, flat as the most miserable parts of Kansas, cover the entirety of the island. I suppose, upon reflection, what made our 35 kilometer ride so special was the lacsidascical nature of it all. We left with no agenda, pushed shuffle on the IPod, and began to leisurely cuise on our "beach cruiseresque" style bikes.

What will remain most salient, as the memories from this trip slowly fade, are the hundreds of children, some of them clothed and most of them naked, yelling "Sawbaidee" to us as we slowly moved into and out of their unfamiliar lives. I will rememer the way the sun reflected the brilliant, but opposing, images of starchy white clouds off well worked rice fields. I will remember how scared I was while running across that miserable beach, with the sounds of a concrete mixer distracting me from the pain coming from my burning feet. I will remember the way we would fall into and out of meditation as we slowly rode through, less than spectacular, scenery. The way conversation would drift away and the uncomfortable silence would transform into a Zen-like state of simple satisfaction. I will remember how fresh a crisp and slightly chilled orange soda tastes after being in direct sunlight for nearly five hours.

Hopefully, and more important than any of that, I will remember the love and sense of community I felt, not only with the dearest of friends pedaling beside me, but with the hundreds of people that provided the faces for an even larger and more beautiful kingdom. Thank you for blessing me with such a beautiful day. One that lacked drama, but was bursting with glory.