Full Moon-ing

Hi All!

TWO posts in ONE day? You deserve it, dear readers! (And I want to get caught up before I go to Bangkok in a few hours.)

The weekend after I went to Tioman, the virgin paradise, I took a trip to Koh Phangan, a decidedly un-virgin…well, everything. KP is the home of the monthly “Full Moon Party”, a wild, uncensored bacchanal that’s one part burning man and two parts spring break cancun. It is, quite simply, a bit of a trainwreck. Why, you ask, did sensible, circumspect Sue venture to this island of iniquity? Well, mostly because sometimes I get tired of being sensible and circumspect. I like to do what “the cool kids” are doing sometimes just for the sake of doing that, to prove to myself that I could live that life, if I so chose. Every time I try it, I remember that I don’t like hard partying, and not because it’s scary, but because I just don’t enjoy it. However, every few months, I forget that fact and I try it again. Hence Koh Phangan. Plus, the full moon party is a big deal: it’s sort of quintessential SE Asia. And I didn’t want to be the whole way here and miss it. So, I went.

Well, it was…interesting. I can say that much. Just getting out to the island is an adventure. I flew into Phuket, where I met my friend Maleeka. We then took a bus to Surat thani, and caught the overnight ferry to Koh Phangan. I have to put a picture of the ferry in here, because I had a hard time shaking the feeling that I was on a slave ship. I tried to convince myself it was more like a pirate ship, but honestly, sleeping on a straw pallet, clutching my belongings beneath me to prevent theft, I was less than pleased. I reasoned that when I was older, I would not do something like this, and it is good that I did it now. Good story to tell the grandkids and all that. That thought got me through most of the weekend.

We docked at KP in the early just-before-dawn, which I admitted was lovely, in spite of myself. I had a grudging respect for Thailand’s beaches, which are rumored to be among the best in the world. In the rosy twilight, they were certainly striking. Maleeka and I hopped in the back of a pickup and told the driver the name of our hostel. We were meeting friends who were already there. Once we arrived though, right about 6am, we realized that we had no idea what room our friends were in, and also that there was no reception area to point us in the right direction. I was about two seconds from a hysterical meltdown when our friends, returning just then from a night of revelry, rolled in. We all embraced and went to the cabin. It was jam-packed with sixteen people in two beds. It reeked of booze, sweat, and sunscreen. I took one look and wanted to bolt. Sheena, the trip organizer, told us that there was another room somewhere that had been paid for but was not in use. Maleeka, two dudes from our trip, and I set out to find said room. After trying a few doorknobs unsuccessfully, we spotted it. The treehouse. Yes, there was an honest-to-God treehouse, right there on the sand. We climbed the rickety stairs and discovered a bed and air-conditioning. Shrugging, we all laid down sardine style. It was a great nap.

After awakening in a tree house, I was not sure my day could get much better. I was mostly right. As soon as I got outside, it started raining. (Sensing a theme here? ) Most of my party was congregated under the verandah/hut/lobby, either hungover or actively getting drunk/high. Given that it was raining, the populace demanded a movie. Their choice? Avatar. Those who know me well know that Avatar is not, to put it kindly, my favorite film. Here I was on a gorgeous beach in Thailand with a bunch of stoners, watching Avatar. I was less than amused. If I wanted to be annoyed with drunk people, I could have stayed in DC! So, that was not too fun.

Anyway, we went into town and did some shopping. I met a totally cool new friend, Jayne from the US. We bonded over bikinis and became fast friends. I bought a hot pink full-moon shirt to wear to the party that night. The name of the game, apparently, was day-glo and body paint. In the end, we all looked a bit like the lost boys from Peter Pan. It was sort of sad to me, honestly. Like, not pathetic, but actually sad, to see us all painted up and gyrating on the beach. It reminded me of something out of Kerouac.

We pre-drank at our hostel, which was actually a little bit fun. They do this thing called a bucket, which is like 7 shots of Thai whiskey and redbull. It’s foul, just foul. You share with tons of people (I know, date rape city). I held onto the one me and my girls were sharing and watched it VERY carefully.  I chatted with people from all over, renewed old friendships and made some new ones. People liked me, and I felt normal. It was all a bit hazy in the glow of the alcohol, but I did have a few moments of connection with people where we got past the bullshit. To me, that’s what drinking is for-a lowering of the defenses among friends, to be able to share your heart without being laughed at. And, it happened that night. So, not a total loss. I can actually be quite fun when I’ve a mind to J

Next, we made it to the actual party. I have a wristband to prove it. What transpired after we arrived was a montage out of a bad lifetime movie, complete with a trip to the hospital, me carrying someone in my arms across the sand, tears, emotional speeches, and lessons learned. I will leave it at that. No, I was not the one who needed hospitalization. But the Thai nurse was extra nice to us, and she duly admired my engagement ring when my friend drew it to her attention.

Next day, we all rallied and headed out. Maleeka and I went to Koh Tao, supposedly one of the prettier islands. We stayed at a cute resort that had a pool they taught people to scuba dive in. Their mascot was a giant starfish wearing a snorkel mask. I was sold. We had a nice dinner, got Thai massages (these are GREAT! Why did no one tell me this? It’s very scary sometimes, when you’re not sure you can bend that way and they just PULL, not unlike a trip to the chairopractor, but you have to trust the process. And in the end, I felt terrifically relaxed. And it was like $6, so that was nice, too.) and went for a sunset walk along the beach. A very relaxing day after the revels of the previous evening.

I went home the next day, and, apart from one lovely sunkissed ferry ride seated on the side of the boat, it was a long, unpleasant, eventful journey back to Phuket. I will spare you the gory details, but let me just say that if I was doubting the wisdom of coming to KP before, I definitely was feeling that way after this journey.  I realized how quickly things could go from fun to unsafe, and I thanked God that I had been spared anything bad. I have been extra careful and safe, sure, but sometimes bad things happen anyway, and nothing more awful than a few bug bites has happened to me. I have been very blessed while on exchange! God, it turns out, was definitely on my side, because at the hotel in Phuket (since I was alone, I splurged on a hotel room instead of a hostel) LAW AND ORDER was on TV!! I was unspeakably relieved to enjoy something from home. Next morning I left Thailand, glad I came but not eager to return. Well, until I came back to go to Bangkok. But that’s a whole different story…

Well, y’all, I need to get some sleep if I am actually to MAKE it to Thailand tomorrow. But, until I get back, sayonara suckers! Love,

Singapore Sue

Bali Hai-jinks!!

Hi All!

Sorry that it has been a dreadful amount of time since I last blogged, those of you who are still reading. Several things have transpired that made blogging difficult.

#1-I AM DONE WITH LAW SCHOOL! I had to write four exams in a week, which was….urgh. The less said about that, the better. I became nocturnal, pulling more all-nighters than I care to recall. But, it’s done. It’s all done. Provided I pass all my exams, which seems likely, my formal education is over. And that feels…good. I am proud of course, but mostly eternally grateful. Grateful for the opportunity, grateful for the people who made it easier,  grateful that I survived.

Law school was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Not only academically, but emotionally too. I was pushed, and I didn’t like it very much. Many of the walls I had to take down were ones I’d built myself, but that didn’t make it any easier. I was overextended, I was pulled in too many directions, I was tested, taxed, pummeled, ridiculed, and beaten. But not defeated. I came through it, bloodied but intact, and for that I am grateful. Now that it’s over, I have some perspective and see what a great gift I’ve been given, what an opportunity. I tried to take advantage of it, I really tried. I didn’t do everything that I wanted to do, and my grades were not as good as they could have been, but God, I gave it my all. That feeling, of knowing you’ve well and truly given it all you had, is a good one. I’m exhausted but at peace.

Other than that, my parents were here and we hung out a lot (so no blogging), and my laptop has been 41 flavors of broken. Long story short, it’s fixed-for now. I think I need a new one but I am trying mightily not to buy one, since I won’t need one going forward and just have to tough it through the summer. Anyway, here I am. I am back. And ready to blog my face off because starting tomorrow, I am traveling straight up until I come home to USA!

Tioman. Wow, that was a long time ago. But, I will try to summon up the memories. Perhaps putting on the soundtrack of “South Pacific” will help. Why? Because TIOMAN ISLAND is where the movie SOUTH PACIFIC was filmed! Yes, the 1958 gem starring Mitzi Gaynor. As in, The Movie I Watched 600 Times Before Age Five. So, when my friend Paige offered a weekend jaunt out to Tioman, I said YES enthusiastically.

Paige, Verity and I took a bus from here to Meursing, a small, quaint port town in Malaysia, then a ferry to Tioman. When we were on the ferry, the pristine day was shattered by rain. Hard rain. Rain that made the waves and our moods choppy. Tioman, virtually unspoiled, has two things to do-swimming and surfing (and surfing is only on one coast). Neither were going to happen in this rain. Foolishly we believed that the rain would stop. However, a quick glance outside revealed that this was pouring-for-days weather. But what could we do? We were already several hours into the trip, and our return ferry was not for two days. So, when the ferry docked, we three intrepid travelers grimly shouldered our backpacks and made a break for it.

Five seconds into our dash to the dock, it was apparent we had made a huge mistake. This mistake was exacerbated as we trekked from hostel to hostel and learned that each was booked up (there is no internet on Tioman, so no reservations either. We decided to try our luck. It seemed our luck had run out). Within fifteen minutes, we were soaked. Like wet to the bone, everything in my backpack needs wrung out, I will never be dry again soaked. And we had nowhere to go. We soldiered on, determined to find a hostel somewhere along the coast where we could sleep (or at least dry out). As we neared the end of the beach, I bravely fought tears. Here we were, literally stranded in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain. I have never been anywhere in the world where I felt so desolately alone, with the exception of maybe the Panamanian rainforest. It was that bad.

A pickup truck pulled up, and a local girl rolled down her window. She told us to hop in the back and that she would take us to a hostel in Juara, on the other side of the island. Since we had seen every single hostel on this side, we jumped in. Zura turned out to be an angel, delivering us directly to a cheap, clean hostel. She promised to come pick us up on Sunday and take us back to the ferry. Dripping and weary, we arrived at the surf shack Juara.

It wasn’t much to look at, but I blamed that on the rain. It turned out, it wasn’t much to look at. What it was, however, was directly on the beach. It was  a few cold-water (but it had running water, which was a plus) one room shacks on one of the most gorgeous coastlines I’ve ever seen. Even in the rain, it was just lovely. So unspoiled and pretty-just like a postcard. I know that my photos never do things justice, but these are REALLY bad, even for me. We stayed for two days: caroused, read, gossiped, swam (a little), drank, and enjoyed the area. We were cooped up inside the shack (jokingly called a ‘chalet’) for hours at a time, and we all really bonded as a result. It was just a good time.

One morning, Paige and I got up to see the sunrise. It had miraculously stopped raining, and for a few moments, the sky was pink. I didn’t take any pictures because I didn’t want to spoil the moment. There I was: 25, newly engaged, and sitting cross-legged and barefoot in the sand, gazing in wonderment at the rosy dawn. It was very, very special. One of those moments you go back to when things are just a bit too hectic and you can’t hear yourself think. This semester has had many of those moments, and for that, among many other things, I am grateful.

note the hammock. Best. Shack. Ever.

Until next time, sayonara suckers! Love you all.

Singapore Sue