Laos

I'm still digesting all of the beauty and color of this place. I feel privileged to have spent time with a novice monk, learning about his life and leaving with his sincere blessing to have a happy, lucky existence and safe travels. I'm thankful to have made friends who I can visit one day when I see Great Britain. People whose presence I could just fall into and rest in without reservation--sharing belly laughs, stories, and commonality.

The slow boat ride down from upper Laos to Luang Prabang was one of the more reflective times where solitude seemed natural. I didn't care to speak as I kept my eyes glued to the comfort of the unspoiled mountainscape and the currents of the Mekong river. The boat moved with the river's flow, which provided me with even more stillness and stability.The riverfolk went about their daily business and life seemed simple and self-sustained in their huts perched on the mountains along the banks. The locals and their water buffalo seemed to effortlessly navigate their way through the thick jungle and limestone rock formations, down the steep, lush hills of their residences. Children as young as three years, clad in mismatched colorful t-shirts and shorts, already seemed to have the operation of the skinny long boats down--it was in their bones and blood.

The smell of this country is intoxicating--rich, smoky burning wood, the essence of trees, and the aroma of freshly charred meats, herbs and curries. Color is an integral part of the streets, providing a veritable feast for the eyes: shiny jewelry, bright handmade tribal textiles, local golden Buddhist art, fruit packed into plastic cups ready to be made into a smoothie of any combination. A land where French food and pastry are done right, thanks to colonialism. A land where you can make friends on the street, where kindness is godliness. A land where poverty is overshadowed by simplicity, service and charm. This is another country where I've left a piece of my heart, and I will be forever longing to come back.