Thailand/Laos/Cambodia III

Luang Prubang, cont’d

I woke to the soft morning sun the next morning and felt incredibly filled. I knew it was going to be a beautiful day. I meandered toward the café that I had been to the day before, wanting to try their tuna sandwiches. I could see Jackie just across the street from me, but I didn’t want to keep on harassing her if she didn’t want the harassment. I ordered a sandwich and hopped onto the Net when I heard her calling my name. We used our 12 foot voices with each other and then sheepishly decided that she should join me after she finished her coffee.
“What’s your plan today?” Jackie settled in across from me.
“Waterfalls. Yours?”
“I’m not sure, I’ve got a limited amount of time… are the waterfalls supposed to be good?”
“That’s what I’ve heard. You know—waterfalls… I’m sure it’ll be pretty nice.”
“Indeed. Can I join you?”
“Of course.”

We made our way up there, through the rolling hills and past the stray cattle slowly plodding about; rising mountains and pastures and terraced rice fields. It seemed impossible to think about where I had come from. The endless non-stop craziness of Seoul—workingworkingworking 6 day weeks, getting yelled at by my boss, having strange trysts with dumb white men, and the cold cold winter.

Here I was among the beautiful tropical flora, the pinks and greens and startling yellows. This beauty, I’ve seen before, but there is something so lovely about seeing it here in this setting—Among these lovely people who smile and yell “Sabahdee!”. Most men and women have a smile to flash and sun-browned kids raise their hands for a high-five as you pass.
This beauty, it is evermore increased by the people of this lush, fiery land.

The waterfalls were shaded by the surrounding forest and spilled into turquoise-blue pools. The colors were dazzling—startling to look at. Again, though my eyes have beheld spilling water before, it is hard to understand how molecules of hydrogen and oxygen could possibly be this color. I took shrieking leaps from the top of a 15 meter fall, and then swung into the pools from a rope swing.
Clean turquoise splash.

Jackie had to leave back to Vientiane to catch a flight and possibly have a romantic encounter with a French guy she met out there, and I was going to have a night alone. The dusky afternoon led me to a coffee shop/bookstore that a friend had recommended to me from a trip here long before.
When I got there, a movie was playing—one of those Winter block-busters I had been curious about. I lay out on a cushion that was spread on the floor, in front of a fan that cast breezes from outdoor Laos over my lightly perspiring body. This is perfect. The ginger tea I ordered stung my taste buds pleasantly and I was cast into 19th century England...