This is the first time that I have been on a trip with people that complain so much. There are two girls on the trip from Canada, and I am relatively certain that they are physically incapable of speaking unless the words which they utter are complaints. The food. The climate. The culture. The lack of beaches in Laos and Cambodia. The number of flights. The lack of people who speak English. All the temples. Too much history. At one point the other American girl commented "Did you read the itinerary before buying the tour?" The response: a very snotty "Why would I do that? Thailand is known for its beaches." Well, the islands are... An Australian observed, "You know, they act like I think Americans should, and you behave like I think Canadians should." I think that's a first.
This is the first time that I have been travelling and not gotten home sick. I do not mean that to sound like I am rubbing it in anyone's face or that I do not love and appreciate you all: I am happy to report that I have been happy and gungho this entire time. It is a lovely feeling!
This is the first time that I have had so many people compliment my skin. Everyone here wants to trade with me. You see, in Western culture you show your status by having a tan: it means that you have enough money to go on a tropical vacation. Here, they desire pale skin: it means that you have enough money that you do not need to work outside in the sun. I often see the locals wearing long sleeves and walking under umbrellas, even in bright sun, 90 degrees and 70% humidity.
This is the first time that I have had a terrible roommate named Monica. Mono, she is terrible and does you no justice. There was so much hope! She is a book editor! She is named Monica! But she is quiet, and I am incredibly nice...but she doesn't flush the toilet and was a bit put-off when I brought it up. This leads me to my next first:
This is the first time that I have been kicked out of my own room.Yesterday, as I walked into the lobby of the hotel and the group was about to check-in, Monica approached:
Monica: Hey. Jess and I are going to room together now.
Me: I don't mind rooming with Kelly.
Monica: Ok.
Me: Is that okay with Kelly and Jess?
Monica: Yes.
Me: Okay, I'll go tell Monte (our tour manager and the guy in charge)
Monica: I already did.
So apparently I had no actual choice in the matter. And apparently my getting in late and going to the bar was the catalyst. But! It is not my fault that she goes to bed at 10pm at the latest every night on a Contiki. She is Australian, so surely she knows the reputation. And it is not my fault that she locks the door, so I have to knock until she lets me in because we only get one key. She could have left the door unlocked. And I am very quiet when I come in--apart from the knocking. Kelly is lovely and she also drinks and she leaves the door unlocked. It is working out well.
On a more disgusting note, I cannot stop sweating. It is quite icky, but the monsoon season or wet season as they like to call it so as not to deter tourists, keeps a constant layer of sweat dripping from me. In places that I did not know had pores.
I apologise for the spelling: I cannot figure out how to change the computer to English spell check, as all of the commands are in Vietnamese, and I can't focus on spelling when all of the words are underlined red. Monica, I still love you.
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