When I arrived in our hostel for the first night of the trip, I was desperate for a shower and somewhere to sleep where I could stretch my body, out of the 12 hour economy class seat mould that I was still fashioning. I turned on the shower cautiously, unsure of what I'd find, and searched for any spiders which may have been waiting for the oportune moment to introduce themselves. The water was cold and came out in a steady weak stream, but I was happy to be refreshed, and felt almost human again. That night I turned my nose up to our room too, still of course, the spoilt child I didn't even realise I was.

It was as if someone was spying on me, and saw I needed a good kicking if i was ever going to see the error of my ways. The very next day we trekked the Great Wall, which was incredible. I am terrified of heights and spent most of the time climbing the staires on my hands and feet, looking nowhere but at the stone floor below me, to avoid seeing how high we were. At the end we were suitably exhausted, filthy and hungry, wondering where we'd stay the night. That evening we met a man we called Shu shu, or Uncle, who showed us a stark reality. He lives alone in a small delapidated house on the valley floor by the wall, with a cage full of ducks and a dog, he had no running water or a bathroom (that i knew of), and his kitchen consisted of a cabbage, potatoes, and instant noodles. Even so, he showed us hospitality beyond anything I have ever experienced, sharing all he had with us. He walked with us and told us, don't be afraid anymore, it's as if you are walking home.

The next day I have never been so grateful to return to the cold shower, now a luxury, and the room which I now noticed was surprisingly clean and comfortable, something I had completely overlooked. Most of all, I realised you don't have to be a great intelectual, a celebrity, a model to touch people in a way that their lives will genuinely change, for the better.

So yesterday we were asked to reflect on why we were doing this trip, our trepidations, our hopes, and our goals, and this is what i came up with....

i am doing yet another dragons trip because there is something about dragons that forces you to become willing to be redefined, a leap of faith that you take without any sight of where the ground is.... for me dragons is about deconstructing who i am now and reconstructing who i can/want to be- all fostered by a continuous dialogue with the culture surrounding you.

i hope to let myself breathe, sometimes back at home everything is so goal oriented that i forget to listen to myself and i mean actually listening- the kind that runs the risk of not being fun, the kind that brings up tears and laughter and everything between.

i am most nervous for the little homestays, just becasue change is hard for me, i know that, and i just fear that these little homestays may be overload- so much concentrated in such a short period of time... i am most excited for what i could never imagine the stuff that i don´t know is coming.

that being said a line is starting to pile up,

sending my love

-k.

p.s. we all got here safe, etc...

Mansata in the doorway

"Some people do not have to search, for they find their niche early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and resigned. At times I envy them, but usually I do not understand them.... and seldom do they understand me. I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we completely content. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach; we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power and unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests, mountains, deserts, hidden rivers and lovely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as our laughter; to share our sadness with the ones we love is perhaps as great a joy as we know, unless it is to share our laughter. We searchers are ambitious only for life itself and for anything beautiful it can provide. Most of all, we want to love and be loved, to live in a relationship that will not impede our wanderings and prevent our search. We do not want to prove ourselves to others or compete for love. This passage is for wanderers, dreamers and lovers who dare to ask of life everything which is good and beautiful."

-anonymous

(thanks inno)

We have just completed our 6-day long jungle trek. The first day, we "met the leeches", as Pui put it. They suckled the blood from our feet like sapling cows at the teat. The trek was long and mud-gilded. We all slipped and fell but perservered immensely! The jungle was beautiful and we consumed its little jungle-fruits as we stumbled along in our tevas blindly poking along with sharpened bamboo longstaffs. The first village was situtated on a muddy slope, and the warm-hearted hilltribe families accepted us with open arms (even if we had diarrhea -- Muffz, I'm looking at you). It was challenging to eat all of the rice and vegetable items they hoped that we would, but we managed. We also snuggled with kittens quite a lot. They had large and dewy eyes. And no hair. Upon the next morn, we trekked atop a mud-crowned hill and visited upon the site of a rice farm and cavernous.. cave... We got to see bats! That night, we attended church at one of the hill tribe family's house, although it was less of a house and more of a precarious bamboo-floored dwelling. We drank stick water and watched them pray. They were a kind and devout population.

The second day of trekking surpassed the first in terms of beauty. The jungle was a glistening verdant gem, rife with a wealth of bright-colored beeltes and spiders and water buffalos. We feared that monkeys would throw upon us with sharp rocks and that we would have to sprint for cover, but thankfully we were safe! The rice paddies, nestled amongst the towering forest, were some of the most glorious sights we have so far encountered. The trek was relatively easy, and we reached the village shortly after midday. We were all slightly nervous, as we had heard it was a fishing village, and that we would be consuming fish morning, noon, and night. However, we only had fish once. And rat twice. Further, our host brother was very attractive. Our host father was named Pappi Samile, which means Uncle Smile. This nickname is due to the fact that he smiles quite often. In the village, we repaired a fence by felling bamboo and forming it into fence posts. We later swam amongst the aforementioned fish in a jungle watering hole. We also caught grasshoppers in our bare hands and impaled them on metal pikes in order to attempt to scrounge dinner. This was unsuccesful.

The final trekking day was by far the most daunting! It was 2 miles through a very steep mountainous jungle terrain. We all dripped sweat like precipitation from the gleaming white clouds. After we completed the mountain trek, we continued to make our way uphill for another 4 miles or so. However, it was not unenjoyable and the final village was our most favorite. Our host father spoke very good English, and there was a 2 week old baby living in the home. We had a meeting with all of the villagers, and we shared questions and answers. Then they engaged us with accounts of village legends, explaining why the Karen hill tribes divided and why we have such a different lifestyle than they. The next day, we aided at the school. We taught songs to the children and played a variety of American games with them. They were so adorable with their gleaming eyes and grubby paws. Everyone was so happy to spend time with them, even after one child miturated on Katie's leg. Then we left from the village on a bumpy mountain road and vistited a vibrant alabaster temple. Now we are preparing to embark on a bus, lovingly nicknamed "The Vomit Comet", for 9 hours. It should be a lot of fun.

Sincerely,

Ali and Callie