The lazy blogger is back...

A lot has happened since I last wrote, so I've chosen to concentrate on the past three weeks with my friend Sara in Goa. Before that, I had pappa over for a visit for two weeks. We went to Varanasi, where I had been seven years ago and pappa 36 years ago. There he took some amazing photos (check facebook for that) and met many nice people through the camera lens. It's amazing how people approach you when they see the huge camera! After Varanasi we also visited Rishikesh, Haridwar, Amritsar and Dharamsala. Pappa left me in Dharamkot (outside of Dharamsala), where I spent the next two weeks reading in the sun, climbing in the surrounding mountains, working one hour per day with tibetan refugees and being increadibly cold together with new friends at night.

After all of this, I travelled down to Mumbai (that's a LOOONG trip) to meet Sara, who came over from Sweden for christmas and new years. In the end of her stay we listed the highlights of our time together and ended up creating a list consisting of more than 40 points, some of which I'd never dream of mentioning here... So instead of the full list I present to you the highlights of the highlights:

• Fine dining in the Mumbai Customs Canteen

Upon Saras arrival, we probably had the best timing possible, the moment that she walked out of the arrivals hall, looking mildly confused, I walked up to all the people waiting. Since she arrived around midnight and our train to Goa was at five in the morning, we had decided to spend the night at the airport, catching up on everything that had happened since we last saw each other. Time went increadibly fast and after a couple of hours Sara was hungry. No problem, I said, I saw a local restaurant just a stones throw away where we can find you something cheap and tasty to eat. We walked into the small restaurant with our backpacks on and everything seemed completely normal to me: lots of Indian men staring at us. Sara payed a little more attention than I did and therefore asked: are you sure we can eat here? Yeah, why not? I replied, no problem (have I been in India too long? Nothing is a problem in India)! But there's a sign at the door that you have to have a special card to be able to eat here, it seems to be a canteen for people who work at the airport. Now that we'd come so far, though, I didn't want that small obstacle to stop us, so I asked the man at the register if we could stay even though we didn't work there. He tried to tell us about a nearby hotel with better food, but when I said that we liked this place, he seemed flattered and confused and told us that we could stay. So Sara got her dal and rice and we both had a chai. The price? 5 kr (0,5 euro) plus lots of happy staring looks from the customs workers.. Was this the first time the Mumbai Customs Canteen had two lost blond swedish girls eating in their canteen? Probably! And was Sara happy with her first meal in India? Definitely!

• Not so pleasant Russian Yoga
  
  After a smooth train ride, we arrived safe and sound in Benaulim, Goa (where I'd spent christmas 2006). From the very first day, we started looking around for a place to do yoga in the mornings, we had a vision that we'd get up early every morning and start the day with a refreshing yoga class. After a few days of looking and lots of asking around, we finally found something that sounded promising: drop in classes every morning at 7-8.30. The expectations were high as we took an early morning walk to the Woodstock Resort. There we were greeted by Svetlana (we think that was her name, she certainly looked like a Svetlana) and the class started. Ok. Imagine the most russain english you possibly can. Make it 100 times stronger and mix it up with yoga terms. Ta-daaaaa... Russian yoga! "Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis", Svetlana told us and we didn't understand what she wanted us to do until half the class was over. Oh! Breathe! When one student couldn't get into a position, she sounded irritated and then she went over to him and pushed him into it, until he said "ooooooooow". Svetlana also showed us some positions that she could do, but that we wouldn't be doing, it would be way to hard for us. Thank you, Svetlana! I'm so glad you showed them to us anyway, so that we now know that you can do them.. I couldn't look at Sara during the whole class, I was so sure that if I cought her eye, we'd both burst out laughing (it turned out afterwards that she was thinking the exact same). After the class Svetlana wanted to know if we would come back and we both answered as vaguely as possible (yes, we are cowards) and escaped the horrible yoga, never to return again. I guess Russian yoga doesn't always have to be bad, but from what I've seen so far I can't say I'm a big fan..
  After the Russian yoga, we couldn't find another yoga option in Benaulim (although we tried to convince a German guy we met there to teach us. Is German yoga better then Russian?) and then we just became so lazy that we didn't manage to do anything but lay on the beach and dance the evenings away... Sorry Sara! Next time you come visit me in India, I promise we'll find real Indian yoga.

• Great Hindi music and Bollywood dance (a future career?)

So what did we do during our three weeks together? Well, we certainly spent more time on the sun beds than I've ever done in my life before. Sara made sure that we tanned in a good way with sun factor 15 though, so you don't have to worry, mamma! During the evenings in Benaulim, we were dancing, dancing, dancing. Since there are many Indian tourists in Benaulim, a lot of the music was hindi and the dance moves were greatly inspired by Bollywood movies. If you've never been on a dance floor in India, it's almost worth coming here just for that experience. It's not like in Sweden, where 95 % of the "dancers" are just bouncing along in an unispiring way, oh no. On the dance floors in India, it's pure action (and for anyone of you who's seen me dance, you must know I like that style)! First of all, people are having so much fun, just watching the happiness is a sight in itself. But most importantly: people are feeling the music and they are not afraid of being embarrased by their dance, they just give everything they possibly can. It's whistling, it's down to the floor and up again, it's sweat everywhere... It's delightful! It's beautiful! It's contagious...

All this dancing made me start dreaming of becoming a Bollywood dancer. Maybe Sara believed in the dream as much as I did? Anyway, she never said anything to make me think it wasn't possible (maybe she's just polite?). The dream grew for a few days, until we met a group of college boys from Bangalore on New Years, who crushed it totally. First they told me that there's no such profession, then they told me that I'd probably have to be Indian (what, I don't look Indian?), then that the process was VERY long. What I still had after the crushed dream, was the possibility to lie to other travelers about me being a Bollywood dancer. So I'll do that, whenever I meet someone who deserves a lie (e.g. a "globetrotter", you can read about that traveler type in my post about the people in Sri Lanka). Yes, I'm a famous Bollywood dancer, that's the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.

• The bad Mojito and Dr Elvis Macarena

Christmas eve. Romantic dinner on the beach with my beautiful Sara. The first beer in a long time. After a while Sara wants a mojito and orders it from Rajesh, the cute little nepali guy (who's constantly hitting on her) at the Hard Rock Shack. Rajesh does something that he calls a mojito, but that something certainly isn't a mojito and it is not good... Not good at all. Next morning, my Sara is throwing up and we both think she's hungover. But after a few days, we both know that's not the case.. So what is there to do? Go to the doctor in Colva! And who is the most reputable doctor in Colva?

Dr. Elvis Macarena of course! With such a melodic name, the expectations are high as we enter the clinic. Despite all the expectations, Dr Elvis Macarena succeeds to impress us greatly by his charm, his humor, his colorful sneakers and his maaaad doctor skills. I'd go to Dr Elvis anyday of the week. The best thing about Dr Elvis was his amazing Indian accent and gestures. So easily imitated.. The doctor refused to sing for us, though. I have no idea why.

• Bollywood stars with Anil Kapoor
  
  Although Sara and I already felt famous in India, especially after a massive photo shoot at the Gateway of India, with at least 20 people and 8 cameras involved, we were still looking for more fame. Because of this, we rebooked our tickets to Mumbai and planned to stay there an extra day with one intention: we would be extras in a Bollywood movie. This might sound like a goal hard to reach, but in fact all you have to do is walk around in Colaba (the backpacker area), look foreign and someone will come up to you and ask. So, we headed for Colaba and within 15 minutes Imran came up to us: "Do you girls want to be in a Bollywood movie tomorrow?" Reply: "Yes, yes, yes!!!". After this, Imran still tried to sell the concept to us, but he could have saved his speech. We were just so easily convinced that he probably hadn't experienced it before. The deal was: Free ride to the Bollywood studio and back, get costume, hair and make up, work for 13 hours, get breakfast, lunch and dinner and 500 Rs. The night before the action, we warmed up by going to the cinema to see Band Baaja Baaraat, a typical Bollywood movie; colorful romantic and full of music and dance..
  The next day we were on the bus with 30 other fame seeking tourists going to the studio. As we got there, all of us were dressed up in suits, then we went to the beauty girls for "hair and make up" (which in my case consisted of releasing my tiny pony tail that I have nowadays and brushing my hair until it looked awful. No make up). After that make over, we went into the studio, a fake train station office in London, where we all had to sit at computers with head sets on, look serious and pretend to type for 10 hours. Yes, Bollywood life is glamorous! It was actually a really nice day, being in the same room as Anil Kapoor (the actor who reads the questions in Slumdog Millionaire) and lots of hip Indian media people. I noticed that the fashion amongst the Bollywood staff is baggy jeans and a t-shirt with a funky message on it - "Hug me, I'm special" or "British triathlon; football, drinking, sleeping". We were fed three times during the very monotonous day as well, and in the end we got the cash! Not only am I incredibly famous, I'm rich as well. AND I've already told many people here in Varanasi about my movie career- they all think I'm really cool. So what more can I expect out of life? Maybe that Sara would stay with me longer? I miss you, sweety!

Next on the itinerary is the Dalai Lamas teachings here in Varanasi from the 12th to the 16th. After that I'm going to volunteer at a meditation course in Bodhgaya, where the Buddha was enlightened. As my companion, I now have Ombretta, a lively, smart and sweet Italian girl that I met in Dharamsala. So, traveling life is still very good. Who knows, maybe I'll stay in India and try my luck as a Bollywood dancer after all?

Feeling famous, seeing robots and eating breakfasts in Tamil, recieving guests of honor in Nepal.

Moving from state to state in India is at times more varied than moving from country to country in Europe. Tamil Nadu is a state of temples, pilgrimage sites, delicious breakfasts, friendly and curious people and amazing couch surfing!

I saw a cloudy sunset and a magnificent sunrise in Kanyakumari, the southernmost tip of India, where the Bay of Bengal, the Arabic Sea and the Indian Ocean meet. Famous as I am, I was constantly asked to be in random peoples photos, often posing by shaking their hand while the photo was being taken. I also had the new experience of being hit on by a far too old Bengal reading me this poem that he wrote: So far, but yet so near, your footstep on my doorstep I still hear. Don't worry, I resisted his charm, rice belly and poetic skills and have no current plans on moving to Calcutta.

In Madurai, I couch surfed with Raj and his family. They made me understand the true meaning of the word hospitality. Raj picked me up from the bus station and took me out for dinner on my arrival. When I tried to pay, I got a firm no with the motivation "I am your host". This seemed to be his motto and he took great pride in making me feel welcome in every way possible. Sudra, Rajs wife, cooked the best food I've had in India. I'm NOT exaggerating, I've had plenty of finger licking food in India before, but nothing quite like this. Her food alone is reason enough to go back to Madurai. On my second night in Madurai, Raj took me to his Rotary meeting. There I was introduced to around 15 proud middle aged, middle class Rotary members (all men of course). A 72 year old body builder held a lecture in Tamil on health. The only thing I understood of what the white haired muscle man said was a few words in English, like leafy greens or breakfast. My background knowledge on the subject combined with some thinking skills, helped me work out that it's important to eat breakfast and leafy greens. How lucky I was then to be in the breakfast state of India with the best chef cooking for me!

I was supposed to move on after two nights in Madurai, but Raj convinced me to stay and come with him and a group of Rotary teenagers to a Tamil movie. The movie, "Robot", stars the most famous, celebrated and worshiped Tamil actor Rajinikanth. He is also the second most payed actor in all of Asia (after Jackie Chan). Raj told me that at the premieres of his movies, people pour milk on posters of him (that's what Indians do on images of gods). All the Rotary teenagers had already seen the movie at least twice before. The guy sitting next to me had seen it six times. And yes, it was very entertaining, the full four hours of it. The dialogue was of course in Tamil, but this time I had no problems what so ever understanding the content. I don't think I'll watch robot six more times though, once was enough to satisfy my Rajinikanth hunger.

After such a long movie, it was too late to catch a bus to Trichy, so I was forced to stay another night at Rajs and get some more of Sudras food. Life certainly isn't easy! On top of that, Rajs mother dressed me up in an elegant red sari, painted my hands with henna and fed me (since I wasn't allowed to touch anything with my henna hands). This is probably the closest I'll ever get to feeling like an Indian woman about to get married. Leaving Madurai and Rajs family was a little bit sad, leaving Sudras cooking was devastating!


Lots of temples, celebrity photos, masala dhosas and some extremely lazy and pleasant days in Pondicherry later, I arrived in Chennai. There I couch surfed with Mahesh and Suja, who I'd met in southern Laos in June. Mahesh and Suja are probably the most modern Indians I've ever met; at their wedding they only had ten guests (unheard of in India), they quit their jobs and went backpacking in Southeast Asia and now they're looking into starting an organic farm and guest house outside of Chennai. Seeing them again was great fun and I regretted only having two days of touring around Chennai with the perfect trio Mahesh, Suja and their friend Ram. A lot of the time was spent on motor bikes, another big part listening to the trio disagreeing on something and discussing it forever. We also had lots of good Tamil food. These three things would have been enough to keep me entertained and happy for weeks.



However, it was time to leave India to go meet my first guests on this Asia trip, my mom and her boyfriend (is there a better word for that? It sounds more like a teenager than a 59 year old..). So, how does one travel to Kathmandu from Chennai for 16 euro (20 dollars)?
- Take the 44 hour train to Gorakhpur.
- Take a two hour jeep to the border in Sunauli.
- Take an eight hour bus that instead takes 12 hours to Kathmandu due to an accident on the road.
It sounds long, but somehow I thoroughly enjoyed it all, probably thanks to all the people I met on the way. People are so nice! On the train I was the target of a great deal of curiosity and was photographed numerous times. I had a train friend, Ganapati, who came to visit me every once in a while and asked me more questions about Sweden than I care to remember. In the jeep (containing 17 people) I was offered tea by two Nepalis. On the bus I got two new friends: a nine year old boy sitting in front of me (but most of the time traveling backwards to be able to talk to me) and a 30 year old man next to me. At the bus, I suddenly felt like listing two of the top reasons to go to Nepal:
1. Seeing a nine year old boy trying to rap along to Swedish hip hop from the 90's (Fint vader med Latin Kings) on a bus standing still in a traffic jam.
2. Getting a lesson in Nepali by a nine year old boy and a 30 year old man on a bus standing still in a traffic jam (while the rest of the bus is happy about the entertainment and listening to everything).

Being back in Nepal feels very familiar and made me realize that this is actually the country I've spent the most time in this year! Seeing the guests of honor was also familiar and I'm convinced that we made the most of their stay here. It felt like luxury spending so much time with mamma (and eating salty licorice again)! I got to act as a trekking guide twice; first with mom and Leif at Helambu Circuit and then alone with mom at the Gandruk Loop. My mom and I also had a time to do a small meditation retreat in Pokhara. During her last night, we celebrated her 60th birthday at a Korean restaurant.

Now I have around ten days until I'm meeting my second guest of honor in India, my dad. He was in India 36 years ago and is going back for the first time. The expectations are high...

Trying and getting hooked on new things in Kerala; couch surfing and doing yoga

Back in India, third time around. In one way I feel bad that I keep going back to India, there are so many other places to see in this world. But on the other hand, every state in India is like a different country and there's so much more to explore (once I met a french guy who had traveled for six years in India and still felt like he'd only seen a fraction of this country). Already in the taxi from Cochin airport to the city center, I felt incredibly good about being back in a place where all senses get constant stimulation and where everything seems to be as different than Sweden as it possibly could. Even the two most boring germans I've ever met in my life (and I've met a few) that I shared the taxi with, couldn't change the way I felt.

Being a tourist in India, you often get the question "first time India?" from people you meet. But not in Kerala. There the question is slightly rephrased into: "first time Kerala?". Keralans are very proud of being Keralans and they like to talk about how successful the state is, the literacy is the highest in all of India, the food is the best and the people are the friendliest. It is actually really laid back and calm compared to many other places I've been, nearly everybody speaks perfect english (not just the well educated middle and upper class) and it's rare to see really poor people on the streets. It's probably a very good place to start a trip to India, if you've never been here before.

In Cochin I couch surfed for the first time in my life. For those of you who haven't heard about couch surfing, you have to check it out: www.couchsurfing.org. There are hosts all over the world, in the most random places, who are willing to host you while traveling. In Europe or America this is often a question of money, couch surfing is free and therefor a good way to travel on a budget. In India it's hardly about that (at least not for me), since the guest houses are so cheap (I usually pay around 100 rupies per night = less than 2 euro). But I remember the first time I visited India, seven years ago, that I always dreamed about getting invited to stay with a family. At that time I didn't know about couch surfing and I'm not sure it even existed. But now there's an amazing opportunity to get a whole other insight to everyday life in India, there are couches available at so many different destinations!

The family I stayed with in Cochin are very used to couch surfing, they have hosted over 100 travelers during the past three years. It's a very modern family consisting of architects Monolita, Matthew and their daughter Sanaa. They live outside of the city in a nice house in a gated community. Both Monolita and Matthew are very well educated and knowledgeable in every subject that came up. We had some interesting discussions about politics (as the swedish election was going on when I was there) and women's status in society in India compared to Sweden. I also learned more about Kerala from Monolita. During my stay, I got really nice Keralan food, it's something different eating at home compared to restaurants, especially after traveling for a while.. One day, we went for a swim in a nearby swimming pool where Monolita and Matthew exercise (and I had to wear a swim hat for the first time in my life). It was really cool staying with them, something I could have never done without couch surfing.

After Cochin, I moved on to Alleppey, to explore the backwaters. I chose between taking the public ferry to Kotteyem (east) or the tourist boat to Kollem (south). In the end I chose the tourist boat, with hopes of maybe meeting some other travelers to hang out with during the eight hour trip. The boat was big enough for 50 , but the captain explained to me that I was a VVIP, as I was the only one on the boat that day! The men working on the boat took very good care of me, though, they came up one after the other to talk to me and make sure I wasn't feeling lonely (and asking me if I was married, which of course I am). The captain finally invited me to come stay with his family in Alleppey. He said that his wife would cook my favorite food and that I could stay as long as I wanted. Such a nice offer, but unfortunately I was moving in the wrong direction. The scenery in the backwaters was lush green with palm trees, rice paddies and small villages along the way. A very relaxing and enjoyable day, even though I was VVIP and therefor without company...

After arriving in Kollem, I took the bus to Varkala. On the bus, I met a catholic nun called Sister Dianna, who was very concerned with me traveling by myself at night (even though there are always tons of people everywhere and 99% of those people just want to be helpful and nice, especially to a single traveler). Sister Dianna asked for my phone nr (yes, the nun had a cell phone, it's modern times in India) and I gave it to her, not knowing exactly why she wanted it. Later that same evening, she called me just to make sure that I'd reached my destination. Sweet nun!

The destination this time was Varkala, a small beach town. In Varkala I couch surfed for the second time, at a guest house run by an american woman and her indian husband. Couch surfing at a guest house? Yeah, it's a little bit odd, but Faith usually takes couch surfers in when it's low season and she doesn't have that many guests in the guest house. Skylark guest house is a very nice place to stay, I was so lucky to find it on couch surfing. There is a kitchen where you can cook your own food and Faith is so friendly and welcoming. Other than that there's not much exciting to write about Varkala, I got some time on the beach to read and I met an italian girl (Anna), who I spent my nights with, doing a puzzle of all the countries in Europe and drinking tea and having long talks about spirituality.

Lazy, unplanned days on the beach were followed by 17 very structured and active days at the Sivananda yoga ashram outside of Trivandrum. I had heard about the ashram from a few people on my trip and it had actually been on my travel to do list for six months. In other words, my expectations were high as I stepped inside the ashram and was welcomed to start my "yoga vacation". The yoga vacation is not quite like a regular vacation, as you can see on the schedule below:



5.20 Wake-up bell
6.00-7.30 Satsang (meditation and chanting)
7.30 Tea
8.00-10.00 Yoga
10.00 Brunch
11.00 Karma yoga (=working, in my case cleaning toilets in the dorms)
12.30 Yoga coaching (optional)
13.30 Tea
14.00-15.00 Lecture on yoga philosophy
15.30-17.30 Yoga
18.00 Dinner
20.00-21.30 Satsang (meditation and chanting)
22.30 Lights out

It might not sound like the perfect vacation for some, but for me it was amazing. In the beginning I found it hard to repeat the same chants twice every day about Hare Krishna, Vishnu, Siva and many other hindu gods that don't really mean anything to me (especially while being surrounded by swaying people playing tambourines). But after two-three days I started thinking of it as singing instead of chanting and enjoyed it more. The yoga was great, I had only tried it a few times before (mostly on this trip) and now I had time to get into it in another way. I even bought a yoga mat and will try to do as much yoga as I can during my travels. The food in the ashram was monotonous but delicious, which I find a lot more appealing than varied and terrible (like in the monastery in Chiang Mai). Other things that made the time at the ashram so great were my fellow yoginis, particularly these ones: The dorm girls Emma (England) and Colette (South Africa) that were there from day one and that I'd sneak out and buy coffee with when our caffeine level was too low, Ray (Canada), who has the most contagious laughter ever, Andy (England), who knew all the ashram gossip and was quite a drama queen, Peter (Sweden), who sounds like "Veiron i ottan", Ranata (Germany), the sweetest lady who always speaks her mind and last but certainly not least the ashram dog, probably the friendliest dog in Asia.

The combination of learning a lot, doing something that I really enjoy, spending time with interesting yoga people and having such a strict routine, made time pass too quickly and before I knew it, the 14 days that I had planned to stay at the ashram were up and I decided to stay another few days (although I wished that I'd had a few more weeks). Eventually, it was time to leave both the ashram and the state of Kerala, where I got hooked on two new (very different) things: couch surfing and yoga.

Politics...

How can I begin to tell you about Burma? Should I start by telling you about the things that I've seen and done, the friendliest people in the world, about funny incidents that occurred during the month I spent there? No, I just can't start by telling you that. First of all I have the responsibility to tell you about what's going on in Burma politically, or at least what I've seen, read and heard. You, my dear readers, have the responsibility to read it.



I don't know how much you know about the corrupt military government and I can't summon it all up, but I will try to at least make you interested and maybe I can tell you something that you didn't know.

Tatmandaw and the people, cooperate and crushing all those harming the union.

A few weeks before I flew from Thailand to Burma (because it's not allowed to cross the land borders, the government want full insight and control of the tourists coming in and leaving the country), I bought a Lonely Planet. Before I started reading it, I honestly didn't know that much about the situation there. What I knew was this:

• The places tourists can visit are very restricted.
• Aung San Suu Kyi has been in house arrest for many years.
• A couple of years ago there was a big demonstration for democracy among monks, some monks were killed and others put in prison.
• - There was a big natural disaster a few years ago and the government wouldn't let foreign help across the borders, which led to many people dying.
• There has been a growing number of Burmese immigrants in Sweden during the past five years.
• Recently I read that Burma and North Korea have plans on building nuclear weapons together.

I understood that visiting Burma would be a different journey than the others I've done on this trip. Despite the things I already knew about the country, I was rather shocked when I started reading about the situation in detail in my guidebook. The first chapter poses the question: "should you go?" (read it at http://www.lonelyplanet.com/) which made me face a question I hadn't asked myself until then. At this point I already had a ticket to go, but tried to read the chapter with an openness of a ticket less person. After reading it, I felt a little bit confused, but decided that I should still go. The reasons for this decision were:

• It's possible to travel Burma in a responsible way, where most of the money spent goes to the people, not the government (for example choosing private bus companies and guest houses and avoiding government fees as much as possible).
• Most of the people want tourists to come and if travelling the "right" way and communicating with the people, this might be a chance for them to hear about the outside world and to feel free to talk about their situation.
• The more outsiders there are to see what's going on, the harder it is for the government to mistreat their people.
• I can try to tell as many people as possible outside of Burma about the situation, so that more people know.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't travel to Burma thinking that I could change the situation, but even if I can support someone by listening to and spreading their stories or buying their services, I'm glad.

One thing that made me a bit frightened was to read about the government spies that are everywhere. The spies follow all tourists at some point during their trip, to make sure that we're not spreading anti government information of some sort. They also ban a lot of websites, including this blog, youtube, lonely planet, sometimes my e-mail, but surprisingly not facebook. Nothing that you write on internet is safe while in the country, the government takes pictures of computer screens to make sure that people are not surfing "bad" pages or writing wrong things. After being in the country for a while, the spies didn't scare me as much, my friends and I even noticed them a few times (we think). As long as you're not handing out leaflets or talk loudly about the government or Aung San Suu Kyi, it's safe - for tourists.

Locals, however, must be much more careful. One monk in Mandalay invited me and my Belgian friend Aurore for coffee in his room (his exact words were: "If you have time, I would like to invite you to my room" which made Aurore say: "that's a little weird" haha). As we sat down, he showed us a picture of Aung San Suu Kyi that he had on his wall and asked: "do you know this lady?". He also had a copy of her book Freedom From Fear, that he had bought while studying Buddhism in Sri Lanka. He told us that it is very dangerous for him to own these items. He also told us that there are many monks in prison since the protests in 2007. One of the monks had been on a hunger strike until he died, because he was not allowed to wear his monk robe in prison. I asked if it was true that there are monk spies and he told us: "yes, there are fake monks that live in the monasteries to spy on other monks". He also said that he used to go to Mandalay Hill sometimes to talk to the tourists, but now he couldn't do it anymore, someone had warned him because they suspected that he was talking about politics.

Maybe what I've written seems a little bit messy and unstructured for someone who doesn't know that much about Burma. So, the basics: Burma has been in control by the same military regime since 1962 (14 years after receiving independence from the cruel British, who had colonized the country for 80 years. Read Burmese Days by George Orwell, fantastic book!) The country is actually not poor, it exports oil, gas and gems for huge amounts of money every year (Thailand alone buys two billion dollars worth of oil every year, but even England buys from Burma). The problem is that the corrupt government doesn't give a shit about the people and not only do the people lack the right to vote, they don't even have the right to express their opinion in any way.

In 1988, there was a big pro democracy demonstration in Yangon and other parts of Burma. The military junta killed over 3000 people demonstrating peacefully. This, however, led to the first democratic election in 30 years. Aung San Suu Kyis party won by 82%, but never got to take over power. Aung San Suu Kyi had actually been put in house arrest one year before the election (and is still there).

In 1995, the government were trying to make tourism a new source of income and they started working for the project "visit Myanmar (the new name for Burma) in 1996". This work included lots of people being forced to work without being paid to make everything nice and pretty for the tourists. In Bagan, where the famous temples are, a whole town was forced to move with one weeks notice to enable the government to build hotels there. This led to a big boycott among the tourists, and the project was a failure. The government are mostly interested in the tourists in tour groups. These tourists money goes straight to the government. The independent travellers are not as popular, since most of us avoid spending any money that might end up in the governments pockets (although it's impossible to completely avoid it, there's a 12% tax on almost everything and the money for the visa and the departure tax are government money for sure).

In 2007, the gas prices went up by 500% in one day. This led to the famous monk demonstration for democracy. Although the monks demonstrated peacefully, some of them were killed and many put in prison. After this, the UN put some pressure on the government and they finally promised to hold a public election. One day before the election cyclone Nargis hit the country and somewhere between 100 000 and 300 000 people went missing. Burma refused to take any help from the outside (terrified of what the help workers might see) and this caused much more people to die than what would have been necessary. The promised election was still held the next day, even though many people were not able to get to the voting places. The people who actually voted were supervised, so that they'd chose the "right" party and the military regime of course won.

Now is an interesting time for Burma, the government has promised to hold an election again this year, but they refused to say what date until a few days ago. So on the 7th of November it' time again. A hotel manager I talked with in Yangon right before I left didn't have much hope for the election though. He said that there will probably be some trouble during the following months and then the election will be like the last; supervised by the regime.

There are so many more things that I could tell you about this country, but I think I've said enough for now. All I can do now is hope that you'll read this and give my best hopes for the future and for the election in November.

Laos part two

If you've ever heard of Laos, and you're between 20 and 30 years old, you've probably heard of Vang Vieng, the party capital. It's the favorite spot for the party people, the people I wrote about in part one. Ever though I was well aware of this, I chose to go to Vang Vieng on my way down south. The reason for this was the reputable tubing that I just had to try. It was with a great deal of mixed feelings that I took the bus to Vang Vieng. Part of the reason for this was that I hadn't met a single swede in four months and I was terrified that my first swedish encounter would contain a 19 year old drunk topless girl dancing on a table somewhere. Luckily, that didn't happen.

The town itself is just as horrible as I had expected, but the tubing - OH, the tubing! It was SO MUCH FUN! My french friend Erik and I rented a tube and got a pick-up to the start (3 km upstream) together with three Phillipino guys, that we ended up hanging out with all day. The three guys, dolphin trainer, veterinarian and artist in a marine park, were so nice that I want to go to the Phillipines. In the beginning of the tubing, there are bars with different water activities along the river.

When floating down, the people working at the bars simply throw you a rope with a bottle at the end and pull you into their bar. At each bar there's something to do, a water slide, mud volley ball, a zip line that ends in the water, or - my favorite - the huge swing. Yes, this whole place is like a giant playground for "adults". The swing is about 10 meters above ground and such an adrenaline rush! The next day my arms were sore from swinging too much, like a circus artist... Can I bring it home with me?



I had a couple of days of long bus rides to take me down to the very south. It's incredible how slow the buses are in Laos. Sometimes you get to watch music videos on super high volume all the way. The music is so funny, I have the strong impression that there is actually only one song in all of Laos, it's impossible to hear the difference! The music videos are also always the same, a dressed up man in front who sings and behind him two to four girls in sparkling dresses with huge fake smiles on their faces and Hawaiian style dancing. I blessed my ipod on those long journeys.

After a day of disappointing cave exploring in Thakek, I continued to the popular destination 4000 islands, where I met my first swede! It wasn't a 19 year old drunk, but a really cool Theo, accompanied by an equally cool Winston from Canada. I also met Tal, the sweet israeli dread head, Emanuela and Enrico - brother and sister from Australia, Linus and Oscar - the swedish speaking fins who reminded me greatly of my sweet friend Daniel in Falun.

I went to 4000 islands expecting another Mung Noi, but didn't find it. The place itself is absolutely gorgeous, but a little bit too small for all the tourists it contains. One night, an american drunk guy threw three cats and one dog in the river from around five meters. All the other drunk people around were upset by this, which is understandable. The biggest guy in the place (an equally drunk american who's in the army and has been to Irak twice, claiming it's a great job) then saw it as his duty to punch the pet thrower in the face, whereupon the rest of the crowd cheered. I felt like I was watching a bad movie and that was the moment that I decided it was time for me to move on. If I want to see drunk people doing stupid things and punching each other, there's really no reason for me to go all the way to Laos. A visit to any bar in Sweden would do just fine.

So, I trusted me french friend Charles (with the funny hat in the photo) and followed his advice to go to a small village called Tadlo to find some people that I could at least have a somewhat intelligent conversation with (many of the nice people I'd met had already moved on).

Tadlo turned out to be the second little paradise I found in Laos. The moment I arrived there, I got a warm welcome from Mama Pap, who cooked the most amazing Lao food in huge quantities for no money at all. The first person I started talking to was my neighbor Jason, from Tucson Arizona, who studies human rights. I almost thanked God, or at least Charles, for sending me to such a great place.

You can measure how laid back Tadlo is by how long it takes to get food at Mama Paps. The first time Jason and I ordered, Mama Pap went into the kitchen for about 20 minutes. When she came out again, we thought that we would get our food, but Mama Pap was carrying food - for herself. She simply explained it like this: "Now I will eat, because I'm very hungry. Then I will cook for you." Jason and I were both very hungry when we ordered, but by the time we finally got our food two hours later, we were starving. Mama Pap has such a great charm, that all the guests just love her, even when they're on the verge of starvation. I'm glad my real mamma wasn't there though, she probably would have murdered someone if she had to wait that long for food. The day that Mama Pap came home from the market with a fat rat that she was cooking for dinner, I was overjoyed for being a vegetarian. All the guests who had had meat, were getting unsure about the flavor of their "chicken/beef/pork".


After two days, we found another guest house that had a truly cosy bungalow that just felt like home from the first sight. Everybody who has ever stayed in "the Bamboo Hut", has left something behind; a book, a piece of clothing, some medicine, a hammock. There's a huge porch outside the bungalow with a small kitchen including coffee, tea and a mixer to make fruit shakes. Paradise! Finding this on the last day in Laos was somewhat tragic for me, because I could have probably stayed for a week.

Laos is great! I can write so much more about all the reasons, but I just don't have time... It's time to get into Burma now.. And when I have time, I will write about the diving in Thailand also.

Oh yes, I almost forgot... The dreads are off and I feel so free!!!

Laos, part one...

I know that I've been increadibly bad at updating my blog lately, it's been over a month. I'm so sorry, but traveling is just too busy! It's a hard life. Seeing interesting culture, astonishing nature, talking with nice people, eating tasty food and reading good books. Who has time to keep a blog? During one month in Laos I never felt like writing, but now I'm back in Thailand and I want to do an update. I just realized that it's going to have to be two updates...

Let me introduce Laos, a country that seems to be made out of waterfalls and caves, inhabited by the friendliest people you can imagine eating the stickiest rice in the world. Do I have to tell you I loved the place? Parts of Laos are sadly destroyed by tourism, though. But if you're adventurous enough to go to other places, you'll be rewarded.

The trip to Laos began with a two day boat trip from the border to Luang Prabang, the second biggest city and cultural center of the country. It is also the intellectual center, I read that in the Lao soaps, the doctors and lawyers always speak with a Luang Prabang accent (I didn't manage to distinguish the accent though). The boat trip was really nice and relaxed and it was also the place where I met Erik and Julie from France and Will from New Orleans. These three became my new travelling friends for a few weeks. Erik and Julie also became my french teachers. I hadn't expected that I'd practise so much french on my trip to Asia, but I have to say that my french now is much better than it was half a year ago.


On the two day boat ride, I encountered the third catagory of "travellers I don't like to meet", a kind that I unfortunately would meet alot of in Laos (and probably will meet in Thailand as well); the party people. The party people on the boat were sitting in the front of the boat smoking cigarettes (so that everybody in the boat could benefit by inhaling the fumes) and drinking beer lao non stop for two days. When they arrived in Luang Prabang, they soon decided to move on, since the pubs aren't open after 11 pm in Luang Prabang. And, as they explained it to us: "we don't give a shit about temples, we've seen enough". At first I thought that all of this was entirely their own business, but when I later went to Vang Vieng (the party capital) I realized how much that has been destroyed by the huge amount of european teenagers (yes, teenagers!) being recklessly drunk and stoned listening to terrible pumping music all day and night all year round. I can't even beging to think how it must be for the locals living there. 15 years ago it was a quiet town in a beautiful surrounding and now they have to live with the stupid party people wether they want it or not. This is all so sad to me and makes me ashamed for being a tourist. It's also hard to understand how all of that can be some peoples dream. The party people stay in Vang Vieng for weeks doing the same thing over and over: drinking, smoking weed and trying to get laid. That brings me to another thing I don't like about this group. Many times the guys will talk to a girl at first, but as soon as he understands that he's not gonna get sex from her, he doesn't bother anymore, but starts talking to someone else instead. I even heard some guys saying out loud: "oh, that's the girls who have boyfriends at home, there's no use talking to them". I could probably go on writing about this for a while, but I just don't feel like it and I'm sure you're thankful for that.


There's actually a fourth category as well, one that makes me so upset that I want to cry. That's the old, ugly, nerdy, white men who come to Thailand and suddenly find young, beautiful thai women. They're EVERYWHERE! If I start writing about this it will take all day, so therefor I will spare you. This time.







After Luang Prabang, I traveled north with my new friends to a small village called Muong Sing. The town itself is nothing spectacular, but around it is a large number of hill tribe villages. In Muong Sing we organized a three day trek to see the small villages around. Luckily we got a great guide called Mai, who new so much about all the different tribes we visited. We even got to stay with two families and felt genuinely welcomed by both. The kids in the villages were very curious about their guest and all wanted to touch my hair.

A funny thing about the trek was that we were walking in the jungle, with Mai in front to clear the path with a machete. Afterwards we found out that there was an easy way as well, but I guess the trek was going through the jungle so that the tourists (us) would feel like they were on a "real adventure". I felt so silly when we found that out. I even feel a little embarrassed now that I've been on an organized thing like that. But at the same time, we learned alot about the hill tribes and we all had a great time.

After trekking, we said goodbye to our Louisiana boy Will and took a bus 150 km east (this took 7 hours!), a tuk-tuk for another hour and then a boat for 1,5 hours to the small, wonderful paradise Muong Noi. Muong Noi is a village without roads, right by the Nam Ou river. The landscape around is truly beautiful, and the atmosphere totally relaxed. There were only a few tourists every day, so everybody talked with everybody and after a few days I felt like a small town girl, everytime the boat came in, I'd be curious at who would come visit the village today. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, there were plenty of things to do in Muong Noi, two really cool caves to explore and tubing down the river in slow motion.

One day it rained very heavely from 6 in the morning until late afternoon. As soon as the rain stopped, my new argentinan friend Gregorio and I thought it would be a great idea to walk to the nearby village Banna. What we hadn't considered was that the whole way was a mud path, and we had mud up to our ancles the whole way. Wet mud is very slippery, that's what I learned. I also learned that it takes a long time to walk in mud. The walk to Banna took two hours instead of one and I fell twice. For some reason Gregorio didn't fall, although it looked like he would at least 100 times.

When we arrived in Banna we were rewarded with yet another paradise. The village only has 100 inhabitants, all of who work at the huge rice fields you have to cross to go there. There is, however, a small, very basic and cheap guest house hosted by the friendliest woman I met in all of Laos: Mama Kham. Gregorio and I soon realized that the sun was about to set, so we had to say goodbye to our new mama, but decided to go back to stay one night the following day.

In Banna everybody lives in bamboo houses on stilts, work on the rice fields and wear traditional clothes. Everybody exept for Mama Khams son, the rocker. This guy walks around the tiny village in baggy jeans, black rock t-shirts, a rocky kind of hair cut and piercings. Gregorio and I were both very surprised to find him here, he looked like he might as well belong in any European big city. When we came back to Banna the following day to spend the night, the rocker was glowing with happiness to see us again. I don't think he gets a chance too often to practice his english and hang out with other cool kids. :)

Leaving Muong Noi after a week was not easy, but luckily I met this guy, Julius, who took me on his amazing motor bike from 1955 down towards Luang Prabang again. I was supposed to go all the way ther with him, but as the bike lacked a footrest for the left foot, my leg was cramping after one hour. The motor bike also broke down once, and I realized how hard it must be to travel by motor bike. And Julius had done it all through Vietnam! With the old bike and all our bags in the back, we sure got a lot of attention on the roads through the villages. Everywhere people were waving, yelling "falang!" (tourist). Yes, that's what I am: falang.