After a shower and good night of sleep

I have reached my Thai-Laotian border destination, which means right on the Mekong River, near the
12 km long friendship bridge.

The plane flight from Taiwan was uneventful, as was customs and immigration in Bangkok. The train
station was within 100 meters of the airport, so it only took me an hour and a half to find it....
Instead of taking a bus or a cab the 25 km into Bangkok, I stayed at the airport / train station
the 5 hours delay before my night train left. And I discovered what American airports are missing
-- massage parlors. I have to say there isn't much that takes the edge off a 22 hour plane trip
like a small Thai woman standing on your back, and on your thighs, and on your calves, and
generally meandering about on top of you.

The train was a 12 hour night sleeper, which was delayed a very painful hour. Exhaustion was
beginning to set it, and my clothes (which were entering their 33 hour or so and still, it turned
out, had another 17 hours to go before I would have a chance to change) had adhered to various
parts of my body, but I stayed awake out on the platform long enough to make sure I got on the
correct train.

Every time I travel I find the bathrooms to be about the most fascinating thing. (The way people
do their laundry is also high on the list.) So if you don't want to read my bathroom observations,
it is best to skip ahead a couple of paragraphs.

The lavatory on the train has now reached number 2 on the list of most terrifying bathrooms. I'm
not referring to the beer rating system: for example the Valparaiso bathroom that would require me
to drink 12 beers before I'd be willing to enter it again. No, that is merely an unclean room --
in the case of Valparaiso, very unclean -- I'm talking about a room that in its very architecture
can only breed terror. Number 1 will always be the outhouse Mark and I discovered in La Bufadora
which had slid out of place and could only be reached by walking a narrow gangplank across the pit.
But a close second, the bathroom on the night train: first of all, it was an Asian toilet, which
was to be expected. So two places marked out on the floor to put your feet and between them a
hole. Often those footpads are made of white porcelain, much like a western toilet maker has
started a side business in shoe shaped trivets. In this case, however, the footpads were a pebbled
steel, only slightly different from the various other unpainted steel textures that were every
surface of the room. And all of the steel was oversized and gothic, much like you had found your
way to inside of huge dialek(sp?). Still not terrifying, I admit. But between those two footpads
was just a hole. And I mean a big hole. I don't think I could have fallen completely through it,
but I wouldn't have wanted to check. And underneath the railroad ties rushed by at 75 miles per
hour. Not much light was under the train long after sunset, but enough see the darkness speed
furiously by. On a couple of occasions I saw children headed into the bathroom, and thought it was
about a 50/50 shot at seeing them leave by the door.

My other bathroom observation (I told you, these places are FASCINATING!) I've seen in every
public bathroom here. As all of the men reading this know, and I'm sure the women can surmise, men
stop and zip and buckle and all of that before turning from the toilet and going to the sink. The
exact same thing happens here, except there is a 180 turn in the ritual. The men all do it in the
public bathrooms -- they turn around and face the rest of the bathroom, but remain standing
immediately in front of the toilet, and only then zip up their pants, fasten their belts, take a
last perusal of the room, and then walk over to the sinks.... Ok, enough about bathrooms. I'll
try to restrain the urge to tell more stories about them in the future.

The bunk on the train was Craig minus 6" in length, but otherwise surprisingly comfortable. Much
more confortable than the pallet I'm staying on now that I'm here. And I was met at the train
station by someone who had brought a tuktuk.

Unfortunately, after 24 hours here I don't have many details to share. The culture isn't really to
rush to action, and as a volunteer I definitely want to follow their lead in what they want to have
happen. It would be unfortunate to get the work done but to have everyone here unhappy about the
process. Surely the social goodwill is as important as any structure. So I haven't seen the site
yet. I've learned it is next to an orphanage and that it is only a 40 minute busride from where I
am staying. I had breakfast this morning at the house of a Thai woman who is helping with
arrangements and is a regular supporter of the orphanage as well.

And, I've been able to ascertain the reason for most of the difficulties of communication over the
last weeks. I'll be attending the cremation tomorrow of the man who was providing the
infrastructure for this entire plan. His death is obviously changing not only the physical
planning here but also the emotional landscape. The funeral is a 7 day process that ends with the
cremation tomorrow. I've also been invited to the funeral dinner this evening, but I don't really
have anything to wear. I'm going to find something between now and the cremation tomorrow
afternoon. And, in the meantime, I'll be taking the bus tomorrow morning to go see the orphanage.

I'm sure there is more to tell, but I'll save it up for next time. No serious problems to relate.
My allergies are acting up, but the food here is fantastic and the people are very nice. The
living arrangements are minimal, but not less than I expected. It is great.