Khap jai lai lai!

...or as they say in America, thank you very much...for reading and commenting and sharing in on our adventure through SE Asia!

We're back in the States! Jess is in DC preparing the classroom for the kiddies and I'm in Ohio preparing to head off to India on Saturday. Wow, how time flies!

This is our last post (Jess, don't even pretend you're sad. haha) but we'll probably keep the blog up so that after our Thai tattoos are healed and digital pics are finally copied off our memory cards, we'll be able to look back and remember how pooj and jess spread the love in se asia summer '08.

Peace & love & tuk tuks,

pooj and jess (aka pb& j)

p.s. I'll be posting to my new blog, Either Here or There (or somewhere in between), while I'm in India. Keep readin' :)

thai tattoos and island paradise

So, I got a thai tattoo.

I wasn't really planning on getting a new tat, especially after the whole "What is that ugly thing you got in Spain? A mouse? A rat?"

And still, I am quite ambivalent about the whole thing. But, a tattoo, as you know, isn't something you can really change your mind about.

What is done is done. Right? Right.

It's on the front of my left calf, about halfway between my ankle and knee. Not too small, not too big. Probably just right.

Luckily, it was free...that is, aside from the medical expenses. And luckily I was drunk so I couldn't feel the pain. And even luckier am I that it didn't bleed profusely or require a tetanus or hep shot.

But that damn motorcycle exhaust just gets you every time. And gives you a 2nd degree burn. And will never let you forget that you once got a ride home from Teepee bar in Chiang Rai from a crazy Thai hippie who knew the words to the cheesiest American songs and could play them perfectly on his acoustic guitar.

Nope, that motorcyle exhaust is not forgiving. In fact, so evil are its ways that once called just an unfortunate, awful and painful burn to the leg is now given the great title, "Thai tattoo," and will be with you for years to come.

Hey, at least there's a story, right?

Well, my trip is also coming quickly to an end. I am spending my last days in Southern Laos on one of 4000 islands in the middle of the Mekong Delta--riding bicycles from island to island, spending cool nights on a hammock outside my bungalow and high-fiving little Laotian kids while they are playing with frogs and monkeys tied to ropes. Ah, heaven.

overheard in southeast asia

Since I am flying out of Bangkok tomorrow morning (and yes, I intend to make this flight), I thought it would be appropriate to share a sampling of the numerous, eh, colorful (??) conversations I've engaged in or have been a subject of thus far during our travels.

Well, actually, before I continue, I should preface this post by explaining how well I truly blend into my surroundings here. I have been mistaken for a local in every country we've visited except, ironically enough, Vietnam. There have been many occasions where a local server has had difficulty understanding one of our European friends' English accent; of course then, it's only logical that said server should turn to me and continue the conversation in his/her native tongue. I am all about complete cultural immersion these days, eh?

All names have been omitted to protect the offenders. But alas, not their nationalities.

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Vietnamese street vendor: Who is that girl over there?
Family member: Oh, that's Pooja. She's Indian.
Vietnamese street vendor: Oh. I knew that. But what is that girl next to her?
Family member: Um, well, she's not mine. She's half Filipino.
(Yes, that would be me standing next to Pooja).

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Dutch man: So what's your name?
Me: Jessica.
Dutch man: No, really, what's your name?
Me: Jessica. Jerkface.

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Dutch man: So I know you hate me but one last question. What color are your panties?
Me: Die.

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British guy: Excuse me.
(I'm sitting at a table at a hostel in Chiang Mai reading a newspaper. I look up).
British guy: Do you have any rooms here available tonight?
Me: Ummm, why don't you go to the reception and ask the guy who actually works here.

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British dude: I would pay a good amount of money to watch you strip.
Me: Die.

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Irish guy: I don't understand why it's so offensive to you that people would mistaken you for a Thai prostitute?

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If only we could sometimes be lost in translation with other English speakers...

Cam on, Vietnam.
Khap jai lai lai, Laos.
Ar kun, Cambodia.
Khap khun kha, Thailand.

It's been fun.

Love,
Jess

(I miss Pooj).