A little bit out of order...but don det nonetheless.

I know that the bitching about Cambodia overwhelmed my last entry, but I've had some time to think-and by that I mean I have eaten, slept, taken time to be alone and stolen a hot shower from this nice american fellow, a UPenn alum to boot, that I met at the butterfly garden bar. I think that may have been the first real win of my ivy league education, "You went to Penn? No way. You say you have a hot shower back at your hotel? Can I buy you a drink?" So the shower helped with the thinking and I figured that you all might like to hear about some of the more pleasant parts of my journey that I have left out due to frustration and the like.

Before we left for our arduous journey to Cambodia we were staying in southern Laos, amongst the 4,000 islands on a specific island called Don Det. A much more relaxed version of an already relaxed country, Don Det was pleasant to say the least. Palm trees, bungalows, hammocks and sand bars off the Mekong River. Waitresses that couldn't be bothered to stand and take your order, would just pull up a chair and chat awhile.

We pulled into Mr. B's Sunset Bungalows with, believe it or not, an amazing view of the sunset each night. Mr. B was famous for his "Happy" shakes, which were filled with a tranquilizing green substance that most of you can devise without further incrimination. We stayed away from the "Happy" menu, but were glad to see that Mr. B had not, making the accomodations an even funnier place to be.

The first night there we met Carl (Brit), Charlotte (French) and Sourie (Japanese). Carl made fun of my American accent and commiserated with Caitlin over a beer, Charlotte intoxicated us all with her french accent and the way that she would make the most lovely farting noises with her mouth, the french really can make anything attractive. And Sourie, well she enlightened us in the ways of Japanese culture, where "the customer is not always right," but rather "the customer is god."

The next morning we woke up to go on a trip to see the famous dolphins and waterfalls of the Mekong. Upon arrival I met my Canadian match. A retort for every sarcastic comment, a comment for every retort. Michael and I bantered for about 5 hours straight and it was brilliant. He said I reminded him of his friends from Jew York City, I was happy to spend time with someone who knew to refer to it as such.

The dolphins were a wash. They dropped us off on a small rock in the middle of the Mekong where we squashed between an empty bottle of booze and what could have only been human feces. We saw some dark specs in the distance decided they were fins and oo'd and aaa'd like morons. Happy to leave dump island we went off to the waterfalls, which were lined with vendors of dead things: fish, frogs, etc. I was busy rubbernecking, when I walked head first into a birdcage, which of course poured all of its lovely fluids over my head. Now, you can't do THAT on television, can you Alister... (how much did that reference date me...sorry to my younger people, it had to be made.)

When I got back I took a dip in the Mekong river, to wash off the bird. I don't know how much logic there was to this choice. Really, could the Mekong be that much cleaner than a birdcage? It felt good nonetheless. Caitlin and I got hit on by some bizarre German men, who I think that Don Det was on the set of MTV Spring Break. They were mostly trite and annoying, but I was only intrigued by one of them who had an anenglish accent that kept flipping between low class British (coughney??sp??) and American midwest. It was mezmerizing, like a freak show. He also had hands the size of boxing gloves, which have lent themselves to endless hours of cartoon imagnings of walking aroumd, living life as a normal size guy with boxing gloves for hand. That might not translate outside of my head, but inside it sure is funny.

Anyways, Caitlin decided that we were to have a farewell Laos party, because it was our last night and we invited all of our new friends, minus the Germans and plus some others I have not mentioned. We decided the best way to celebrate was with some Pina CoLAoLao's, which was a pina colada with Lao Lao as the alcohol. (lao lao is a rice wine, that I believe is 50% alcohol, or some insane percentage that is supposed to make you go blind....mmmm....yummy)

We played many games and got rather roughty. I'm pretty sure we were well hated by all other patrons by the end of the night. I stumbled over to Michael''s bungalow to see the pictures he had promised me of his adventures with a Buddhist family in Thailand. They had promised to take him to a place to see the "blind"people cooking. Michael had realized that something had been lost in the translation when they took him to the back of a restaurant and opened a door to unveil heaps of dead human bodies hung from hoooks, and laid out under glass cases. Michael, clearly in shock, was screaming "this is what you do with your blind people? I thought you were Buddhists??" was even more in shock when one of them walked over to the skin of a face, pulled off a bit and ate it. apparently, it was all bread. an artist, whose medium is bread and whose interest is...sick. blind people, bread people. an easy confusion I guess.

The pictures were gruesome, and if I wasn't nauseaus enough from the many shots of lao lao, those certainly did the deed. We woke up a couple hours later, Caitlin wildly hung over and lumbered on to Cambodia. Many times over the next 24 hours of traveling, and yelling and vomiting, I thought: maybe we should've stayed in Don Det...sarcastic jews, hammocks and lao lao...it just doesnt get better than that.