SAME SAME, thailand.

(written by hand...)

on the roof of the ferry from koh phangang... en route back to bangkok.

jessica and i are the only people on the ferry that opted for sitting on the roof as it is blazing hot... so we (of course) stripped down to bikinis and laid out next to the smokestacks pummeling black fumes out into the air as we crossed the bay past koh samui to donsak on mainland Thailand...

I thought about how this ferry is a world away from the Ambu Ambu that runs from Padang out to the Mentawais back in Indonesia.
There the 11 hour ferry journey would find hundreds on men, women and children, piles of durian and spicy snacks, terrible loud music playing out of handphones and barely a moment where your skin is not in contact with anothers.

Up here, Jessica and I were totally alone. It felt baron and weird.

It's been exactly one week since i paid my 200,000 rupiah exit visa and got on my air asia flight, flying out of Indonesia... away from my hOMe.


Already in one week i find myself hOMesick.
I miss the country...
I miss the language...
i miss the islands...
i even miss the bellowing daily 4am Muslim prayers that echo of the mosques and down the roads of Padang...
i miss the unscathed (relatively)... unmolested by foreigners, raw authenticity...
i miss the Indo people....
i love the Indos... they are like night and day from the Thai people.

I am not bashing Thailand here, trust me.
Thailand is RAD.

I am finding Thailand to be beautiful and magical, but (from what i've seen), the soul of it feels violated - sort of like Kuta Legion on Bali...

Maybe it's just tourism in general?

I remember years ago, when i was living in London, going on a little tour to Stonehenge, and finding it like that.
Dead.
It felt raped of spirit.

Koh Tao (the first island Jessica and I ventured to) was stunning.

Our gorgeous penthouse suite at Montra Resort was incredible... even though i was stuck in hospital for most of our time there and only got to sleep one night in our massive princess bed, I felt like the little island of Koh Tao was still living... it had a twinkle about it, and was small enough to circumnavigate on an ATV in an afternoon.
It felt intimate.

In Koh Phangang, we stayed in Haad Rin - the full moon party beach part of the island.


It was reminiscent of the Greek Islands, Ibiza, Cyprus...
Run down, hung over and seemingly disgusted in itself.

The parties were amazing... "Buckets" sold every 20 feet (a plastic pale full of ice, a bottle of liquor and a mixer of your choosing)... fire dancers... music... clubs... pool parties... fireworks... Everything open, awake, partying, dizzy and intoxicated.

It was like a burning man decomp party on the beach but without the creative spark that illuminates the soul of the playa.

I think probably other parts of Koh Phangang were more like Koh Tao... but i tend to judge a vibe of a place at dawn, and i can only speak to what i saw and felt... and i feel i got clarity and perspective at dawn this morning when i crept out of the Cocohut Villa and went for a walk up towards town alone. (some of the party animals were still up and about but most of the town was passed out.)
I was awake and clear.

I have risen with the sun each morning for nearly 6 months now and i intend to for life.

Things are brand new at dawn.
Wiped clean by the moonlight.
And truth is lit by the creeping early morning sunlight.

This morning I felt a lethargy permeating the atmosphere.
I felt the Koh Phangangians waking up heavily, slowly... exhausted at the mere thought of catamarans already en route to their island with thousands more.
Aussies...
Dutch...
Irish...
Yanks...
Brazilians...
Israelis...
Italians...
all 20/30somethings ready for neon glow in the dark body paint and the same Lady GaGa remix that sends hundreds of arms in the air & heads thrown back in drunken laughter.


I imagine the fire dancers and bucket sellers looking in the mirror this morning and wiping a fake smile across their tired faces as they wipe the heavy sleep from their lifeless eyes.

... SHHHHHOWTIME!.. ding!

It's how i imagine Broadway actors must feel...
night after night, without break...
the same show.
the same script.

SAME SAME.

I don't know what the "SAME SAME" joke is in the Thai Islands but there are millions of singlets with "SAME SAME" written on it.

Of course I read it for the first 20 times as 'sah-mah sah-mah' which means "you're welcome" in Indonesia.

But i think maybe its the Thai's saying to the Westerners

"you are not special."
"you are not magical."
"this is not new."
"you're not a travel ninja"
"you're not the only one who is hot and hungover and about to puke or pass out."
"you are ALL THE SAME."

But hell... i was one of the same-same tourists last night. I participates in the gang rape of this beautiful island with no soul left... It was fun... wild... blurry.



There were buckets upon buckets & foam parties & pool parties...
Truck beds transporting bodies from one shitshow to the next...
Leering eyes and cat calls screamed over bumping sound systems...
There were sporatic tropical rain showers and soaked clothes... wet hair... SEX SEX SEX on every mind in every eyeball.

And i kept looking around at swaying, staggering people wondering if I would be needed as an EMT again, like i was on the catamaran between Koh Tao and Koh Phangang.

A girl lost consciousness and fainted on the dock...
everyone was screaming for a doctor.
I dropped my bags and ran to help her. She came back to life and we got her on the boat.
I checked on her every 10 minutes, force feeding her a banana and a gatorade.
I rubbed her hands and talked her through breathing, pranayama style... I grounded myself and shone the energy into her.

She told me i was an angel.

I didn't tell her that I'd been calling for a doctor losing consciousness myself two nights before on the steps of our resort after i refused to stay in the hopital - and before i had been carted back and admitted anyways as i slipped into tunnel vision and quickly deteriorated from a kidney infection.

I had been terrified.

The only other time i can remember being that scared was when i saw Abby (Josh's Doggoddess) unable to stand and in her own pee after accidentally eating a pot brownie at the OM hOMe.
I felt helpless and knew that i had turned white. i was literally shaking.

On the steps of Montra i forgot that i was an EMT.



I didn't even remember the whole time i was sick, because i was so stunned and crippled by the pain and debilitating fear, i was waiting for someone else (as always) to tell me "you'll be okay."

I was helpless without reinforcement from outside myself.

I wonder where this need for another to pat my head and tell me i'll be alright comes from.

Maybe this is from being married since i was 19.

Asking for the OK... Looking for the nod of approval. Dependent on an answer from someone else... straight from my father's roof and his nod, to my husbands... never alone. not once.

But now i am 27 and divorced and stronger then ever.

I'm learning how to be okay.
I'm learning what i want and what i like.

Jessica is amazing the way she knows what she wants and will never settle for anything because of this knowledge of herself.

I guess i am in the proverbial "kissing the frogs" stage in every aspect of my life right now.

I realized this morning HOW i like to travel.

I like to walk everywhere (preferably barefoot)...
I like to get up at dawn and do yoga...
i like to just drink smoothies in the day while i explore... have a good healthy dinner... meditate and go to bed.

i don't care about bars, drinking or nightlife.

i mean... i'm a burner from hollywood.

i've been there.
drank that.
... and refused to buy the t-shirt.

it's all the same same.

Today i began MY adventure... finding a hostel, walking around and waking before dawn with a winged heart, practicing sun salutations and then writing before going to bed nice and early.

that's my IDEAL travel vibe.

It took an unbelievable two week dream vacation... a beachfront honeymoon villa with a private pool and an insane full moon party (the DREAM)... for me to realize my personal truth, which is that i don't necessarily need all this.

I almost felt out of place and awkward checking out of the honeymoon villa with my green backpack strapped on. i would bet that 99 percent of guests checking out from that villa have matching louis vuitton bags carried by a porter.

But, it's like everything for me.

i do it backwards.

I got married before trying to see what single felt like...
i had careers and a big salary before i felt what struggling young people feel like...
and i did first class (thanks to my best friend and her impeccable taste and unreal generosity)... for me to see that i like it rugged.

it's not like "oh, i don't mind roughing it.." no, i mean i really actually like it.

So thank you Thailand and Montra Resort and Cocohut Villas and rooftop pool on KohSan Road...! and most importantly, to Jessica for giving me the gift of this last two weeks.

Maybe the "SAME SAME" joke IS actually sah-ma sah-ma... Thailand saying 'you're welcome' to me for shining that light and showing me my path i am about to cruise on down tomorrow.

Bangkok hostel... here i come.

yours truly,
Rugged Barbie.