1.  Your jaw will hurt from laughing so much.

2.  As you travel, you’ll meet so many strange people who talk, dress, eat, play, and worship different than you’re used to.  Then again, they’ll think the same about you.   

3.  You’ll probably have to disconnect from technology - letting your calls go to voicemail, putting down your smart phone, and logging off social media.

4.  This will make it necessary to interact with actual real live human beings with alarming frequency.  These interactions won’t just be a quick “hello” in line at a store or a word in passing at the office; you’ll have to sit down next to complete strangers and carry a whole genuine conversation for hours.

5.  Everything is new, different, and uncomfortable when you travel.  A lot of what you see and experience might force you to recalibrate your whole belief system.

6.  You’ll have to face your fears at some point…like every single day.

7.  You’ll find out that life is bigger than your To Do list, and all the structure, planning, and control you’ve been embracing isn’t nearly as important as you thought.  

8.  You’ll have to think long and hard about what you want out of your short time on this planet.  Once you get back home, you might not want to settle for your same normal life and this could lead to all sorts of unsettling changes.

9.  You’ll have far less to complain about after traveling. In fact, most of your problems won’t seem like real problems any more.

10.  You’ll realize that most of the material shit you’ve accumulated isn’t needed at all, and in fact is holding you back.  

11.  There will be way too many new friends from all over the globe who want to keep in touch.  It takes a lot of time to maintain all those friendships.  They might even want to visit you, and invite you to visit their home countries! 

12.  You might fall in love or even meet your soul mate – and they may live on the other side of the world!  How inconvenient!  

13.  You won’t always feel safe.  It’s frightening to discover that safety is mostly a myth that we create in our own minds.  

14.  Traveling will teach you that time is both an undefeatable opponent and your biggest ally.

15. Your ego will be shattered when you realize you’re not special and in fact, you’re pretty damn insignificant.  Traveling will provide clarity that the only things that matter in life are how you treat people and if you leave the world better than you found it.  

- Norm   :-)

I had my fortune told for the first time tonight, on a green table in the back of a dimly-lit room of a bar in the Philippines.  The fortune teller sat me down and went through a deck of cards, asking me to first pick 21 cards and then 13 cards, 10 cards, 7 cards, and finally revealing the last card.  The 50-year old woman, moles on her face and jagged teeth, seemed unsettled even though she's been doing these readings since 13 years old in her village, after she displayed a strange gift for predicting future events.  She only spoke only Visayan, her central island dialect, so I had someone translate.  

This is what she said:

21 cards. The queen of spades came up centered, with the jack of hearts right below it.  She said I was a nice man.  But I would have big problems with a woman - she was bad news and just wanted something from me.

13 cards.  The jack of spades was in the center.  Someone I thought was a good friend would betray me over money.  

10 cards. Jack of clubs.  A guy friend of mine who is older would drag me into his problems.  He's not bad, but he'll unwittingly make me carry his burden.

7 cards.  I have to be very careful with the woman I have problems with - I would get her pregnant, but not end up marrying her.

1 card.  The ace of spades came up, the strongest card in the deck.  She told me that was a sure sign I'd achieve my dreams.

"When will I die?" I asked her.  She just laughed and collected her cards off the green table.

"100 Pesos, please," she said.  

-Norm   :-)

maybe we give him chance.  Now rainy season so tourist slow down, but Siem Reap ok now.  All Korean and Chinese tourist come here instead of Thailand because they fighting.”

I asked her how much an entry-level job at the bar might pay.

“$60 or so,” she said.  

“A week?”  That seemed like a pretty good wage for Cambodia.

“A month.”

Imagine working 12 hours a day, 6 or 7 days a week for $60, or less than $2 a day?  Yet that’s what the vast majority of people in Cambodia earn every month – if they’re lucky.  That’s about the going rate, whether they are servers at restaurants, tuk tuk drivers, give massages, do construction or sew and work in a laundry.  The bartender told me that so many young people come to the city try and get these jobs.  They have no place to stay, no family or friends or even a dollar of savings to fall back on once they arrive, so they sleep 10 to a room in a shabby guesthouse, on the floor where they work, or even on the street on a hammock.  

They send as much money as they can manage back to their families in the province – the only system of social security for older people.  The financial pressure on these young people is enormous.  Sending $30 home can make the difference between their parents, grandparents, and whole extended families having enough to eat or receiving medical care or not.  Too often, they are forced into doing jobs their parents would be ashamed of, compelled to hide their vocation but still needing to send money back for them to survive.

They always start their tenure in the city and at a new job sending money back, but some are pulled into dark temptations – partying, buying nice clothes and phones, and always drinking.  Since any real money to be made is at a bar, club, or working to pacify the tourist’s desires, alcoholism is such an unquestioned fact of life that nearly everyone drinks all night, every night.  The depression of hopelessness is staved off by taking a shot and the energy of another night’s neon song.  The girls in bars, whether bartenders, hostesses, servers, or “bar girls,” make a significant portion of their income on tips or lady drinks.  If they can convince a foreigner to buy them a drink (at an inflated price,) they get paid handsomely, usually $1.50 or $2, or as much as they would otherwise earn all day.  

The girls mostly come to work as these bar girls, or that is where they always end up, where they can earn more and try to attract the favor of a foreigner for some nice meals, a vacation, a brand new phone.  Especially the phone - it seems like having a nice new Android or (gasp!) iPhone is a badge of wealth to these girls.  But it’s also a tool to allow them to attract and keep in touch with foreign boyfriends, even when they go back overseas.  Keeping that relationship alive can be lucrative – guys often send a hundred dollars a month or so back to their “girlfriends.”  Or, if things go really well, they may pay for them to take English classes or go to university.  If they’re really lucky, they’ll find the Holy Grail – a visa to another country.  The only detail is that they need to marry the guy, but that is a small inconvenience.  Sometimes, it takes a week for the marriage to manifest, sometimes, years.  It matters little if they know the guy well, are attracted to him, or even like him – the opportunity for economic security and the chance for a better future for them and their family is like a winning lottery ticket that just needs to be cashed on a daily basis. 

For many of them, the devil arrives in their lives and his name is Yaba.  That’s what they call the Southeast Asian version of methamphetamines, or ice - a terrible concoction of poisons that eats away at their brains when smoked – but let’s them float above their problems for a few precious hours.  Once they get hooked on Yaba there’s usually no going back, eventually becoming reckless with selling their bodies.  When that happens, all their money goes to their habit and less and less back to their families.  If they get pregnant they usually go back to the province to have the help of their mother until they deliver.  When they come back to the city to work, the baby usually stays with grandma.  

Even those working outside of the bar scene make a significant portion of their income on tips and kickbacks.  So if the tuk tuk driver suggests a hotel and delivers the tourist to the front door, they’re entitled to a tip from the hotel for bringing a booking.  Sometimes the drivers have a pretty good day, but too often they’re lucky to have one fare for a buck or two.  For that reason, they’ll assault your senses with offers to take you to every tourist attraction.  You usually have to say ‘No,” three or four times to every single street vendor or tuk tuk driver just to get them off your back.  It’s hard not to get annoyed at their aggressiveness but once you understand the economics of the their situation, you tend to soften your stance.  

And then, there are the hustlers; battalions of forgotten people working the streets, outside of any rules or structure of the tourism industry.  Adults – sometimes even their own parents - send children barefoot into the street to beg all day and all night, armed with sad eyes and wearing dirty rags, just enough English to tug on a sympathetic tourist’s heart strings.  Maybe they sell bracelets or knick-knacks, but they’re really just seeing how much they can squeeze out of each farang - foreigner.  

How can you blame them?  That watch you’re wearing costs more than they make in a year, what you spend on a Saturday night enough to feed their family for a month.  The only problem is that most of the money goes to the grown person around the corner who’s spending it on booze or cigarettes, and not much to the kids working in the razor sharp streets.  

Some bar girls – who are sick or too hooked on Yaba to work in bars – work as freelancers.  Of course there are pickpockets and those who set tourists up when their pants are down (literally) but the vast majority of all these people are good, honest, and hard working – even when faced with unfathomable poverty.  They set up a chair and give haircuts in the street, or drag along a cart of coconuts to sell, a machete and straws the tools of their trade.  Many just set up a blanket in the dirty street and sell icy fruit drinks, animal innards roasted over a coal fire, or dried fish.  It’s all they know, and without skills, education, or any resources, it takes all of their life’s energy just to live hand to mouth.  But they are honorable people - they’d split their last grain of rice with you if you were in need.       

“How long have you been working here?” I asked her as she took my plate away and put another ice cube in my beer.

“Three years now,” she said.  “Good job and nice owner that like me work.”

“And how much do you make per month?”

“$80,” she said.  And this was a decent Western bar in tourist areas that catered to foreigners and she spoke good English.  Imagine what the older lady in back made, homely and without strange words, so resigned to mopping up and cooking my meal?  

I wondered what would become of this kid who was applying for the job, even if he got it?  Faceless and with nothing to claim except a blank page, what was his fortune?  Or so many countless young, cheap laborers like him who came to the cities?  I guess we could just be thankful this new generation didn’t have to experience the horrors of war and genocide that their parents endured.  But as tourists keep pouring money into the country, I just wished that more of it actually landed with the real people living and dying in the streets, who really deserved it.  I guess I always hope that things get a little better.  

“Ketloy,” I said, asking for the bill in Khmer – the Cambodian language.  She smiled and brought me the bill.  I put down enough to cover the bill and a tip big enough for her to eat for a month and handed it back to her   She went to give me change, confused why I overpaid.

“Keep it,” I said.  “That’s a tip for you and spilt it with the lady over there with the mop.”  

“What?  Really?!  Oh thank you thank you!  Ohn Kuhn, bong!” she said to me, holding her hands to her forehead and bowing slightly to the sky, an offering to Buddha thanks for her good fortune. 

I smiled back – a real smile that I hope she remembered when times were bad.  I thanked her again and walked out onto the street.

“Tuk tuk?!  Tuk tuk!  Where you go?  Angkor Wat?” five taxi drivers barraged me at once.  I checked my watch – I had to head to go collect my bags at the hotel and get to the airport soon.

I guess that’s really what it comes down to – some of us are lucky enough to have places to go while the rest of us are always left hoping things get better, praying fortune arrives if they could just get through another day, around the corner or maybe in the kindness of a stranger.  Either way, none of it still makes any sense to me.  But that’s just how it is.  

-Norm    :-)

I'm proud to announce the release of the book, Cambodia's School of Hope, a collaboration effort between myself and the children and staff at the Spitler School in Siem Reap, Cambodia.  The story of how the school came to be, and what they're doing to educate and empower children in poor Cambodia, is truly remarkable.  Read about it below and grab the eBook on Amazon.com.  We'll have a print version available soon.  100% of profits from book sales are going directly to keep funding this kids' educations!  

Thank you in advance for your support and caring about these kids!

-Norm  :-)


***
Cambodia's School of Hope.

A chance meeting in an exotic land on the other side of the globe.  A local guide trying to raise money to build a well in his poor village.  Hundreds of Cambodian school children who didn’t have a school to attend, or sometimes enough food, clean water, or medical care.  

What unfolded next is truly amazing.

The story begins in April of 2005, when Danny and Pam Spitler visited Siem Reap, Cambodia to see the famous temples of Angkor Wat.  During their four-day visit to the area their tour guide was a young Cambodian gentleman by the name of Chea Sarin. Over the course of their visit, it became clear that he cared deeply for the plight of the poor villagers in his country and especially for the children.  He told the Spitlers that the lack of clean drinking water was the cause of many health problems among the village children.

At the end of their tour the Spitlers decided to donate enough money to provide one of these wells to a poor village.  Sarin sent them photos of the well being built and then when it was finished.  A few weeks later, Sarin asked them if they would consider helping him start a school at a very poor village located about nine kilometers outside of Siem Reap.  The Spitlers agreed. 

The initial concept was to build one building, using lumber and thatch construction, with a dirt floor.  The building would be divided into two classrooms in anticipation of about 60 students.  With a construction budget of less than $1,000 Sarin was able to complete the building in just a few weeks and had money left over to build some rudimentary wooden tables, which the students could use for desks.

To the surprise of Sarin and the Spitlers, almost 100 children signed up to attend the school.  Classes began in July 2005, and additional students continued to arrive, and soon the school was serving 120 students by offering half the students classes in the morning and the other half in the afternoon.  Sarin was able to purchase supplies for the students and the classroom at an average cost of about $1 per student per month, and two well-qualified teachers were hired for salaries of $70 per month each.

Given the response from the village, the Spitlers decided to provide additional funds so that Sarin could build two more buildings and hire four additional teachers.   Sarin accomplished all of this within six weeks and when the school opened for the regular school year in September 2005 the school was able to accommodate 190 students in kindergarten through second grade.

Over the years, the Spitler School has continued to flourish and grow, and now a second school, the Kurata School, is open.  Thanks to Sarin, the Spitlers, the Spitler Foundation, and donors and volunteers from all over the world, over 800 children are now being educated and given a better chance to get out of poverty.  The school also undertakes many community projects like building roads, delivering food, trash pickup and recycling, and medical advocacy for the children.

The Spitlers and Sarin have been recognized as widely as the Cambodian government and the U.S. White House for their efforts but they do it all to give these children a brighter future, not for any accolades.  What started out as a chance meeting between strangers from different parts of the world turned into something so meaningful and special to so many people – Cambodia’s school of hope.

This book tells the story of the Spitler School and looks into the lives of the children who attend, their families, their village, and the beautiful, yet challenged, country of Cambodia. 

100% of the profits from this book are going directly to the Spitler School Foundation to help these children. 

I recently met a new friend in Cambodia, a very kind and conscious American woman from Denver who is traveling in Southeast Asia.  She asked me a question so insightful I had to write a blog to answer it properly.  Here is her inquiry, paraphrased:

When I travel to poor countries I rarely take photos of people. I see so many art shows with photographs of the impoverished but it seems these people are no longer sentient beings - they become impersonalized backdrops at dinner parties, objectified as oppressed beings.  I struggle with this.  How do you feel when you photograph people who live in poverty?

Here is my answer:

First off, great observation!  I think about that all the time as I travel or live in Third World countries and photograph people, many of them living in desperate poverty.  I ask myself, “Am I just being a tourist in their suffering?  Am I one of those people taking photos who think, ‘Oh look at all the starving dirty people in hovels - these pictures of their suffering will look great on my Facebook!  My friends back home will think so highly of me.  I feel SO good about myself for taking an hour out of my day to go visit their slum/orphanage/village, and now that I’ve got the photos I can go back to my air conditioned luxury hotel.’"

My answer is always “Hell no!” but that’s the stark reality of too many tourists I see.  A while back I even read an article about a South African hotel that was replicating the impoverished shanty experience.  They weren’t bringing people into the shanty towns to let them experience a small part of the life of the poor, but were mocking it by building their own shanties complete with a few high-end amenities, right on the hotel grounds.  That’s just dead wrong.  But what about the casual traveler who can’t help pulling his camera that costs more than the local people in his finder make in two years? 

So much of photographing people as you travel comes down to your intentions, but you also have to communicate that intention, often within seconds and without words.  I travel into some of the most impoverished areas in the world and take photographs without conflict or any problems with the locals.  In fact, when I leave I’ve spread good will and hopefully helped them in some tangible way…AND still got authentic photos I’ll cherish.  How do I do that?

1. When possible, I ask people if I can shoot a photo of them.  Of course that loses spontaneity but if we've already made eye contact, said hello, or they see me, I'll smile and ask politely if I can take a photo, and then thank them profusely afterward.  It may not sound like much, but it shows respect when you ask permission.

2. Many times I compensate them - a dollar here or there for taking their photo and sticking my nose and camera into their business.  They’re always appreciative of that, no matter what the amount. 

3. I ask myself how I would feel if someone stuck a camera in my face at that given moment.  If I was eating dinner with my family or worshipping or in a compromising position then I might construe it as rude, but generally if someone is kind and interested in me as a human being, not just a an object for a photograph, then I’d be happy to have them document our connection. 

4. Sometimes I take photos with them, not just of them.  Once we’ve said hello, exchanged a smile or a laugh, and it feels appropriate, I’ll ask if I can take a photo with them, side by side as new friends.  I’ve always found people to be honored and excited to be seen as such. 

5. More than anything, I try to use the photo and my experience in their homeland to help them.  I do that by writing about their lives, telling their stories to the world.  Whether it's a blog, a fundraising campaign, or a whole book about their existence, that's my way of creating awareness for who they are and what help they may need on a bigger scale.

6. I educate myself about their country, the conditions of their lives, and the social ills affecting them, and then always make a donation before I leave.  Instead of giving money to beggars on the street (which is often counterproductive by encouraging more begging and exploitation of children) I make a donation directly to a credible charitable organization that’s serving them.   

7. Lastly, I smile and try to show love and respect to anyone I meet, regardless if I photograph them or not.  I think it's so important to do that - my way of showing that I acknowledge them as fellow human beings and equals.  Everywhere I’ve gone, I’ve found that respect and friendship are commodities just as powerful as money.

***

-Norm   :-)

I received an email from a reader the other day with these questions:  

"What would be the best advice for young adults trying to travel or move out the country?  And which countries are best to move to?"

Super questions!  My best advice for young adults trying to move out of the country would be to travel while you’re young.  Do it now when you don’t mind long bus rides and bad beds and you don’t have a lot keeping you back in the states  (or your home country.)  Life has a way of anchoring you as you go on, and pretty soon you might have a good job, an apartment lease, car payments, a house, or a relationships or marriage that keeps you grounded.  So do it now!  

I would also suggest that you form a plan how you are going to fund the trip a good ways out – maybe 6 months? - and work your butt off until that date arrives.  You’ll have to sacrifice a lot; eating out, nights partying with friends, the newest clothes or concert tickets, but all of that money will be essential if you’re going to travel. In that time you have to prepare, read everything you can about your destination countries, learn about the cultures, watch documentaries, and read some travel articles and books that will give you a taste of real life on the road, too. 

Last thing: be careful.  The rest of the world is not a fantasy land and most people have problems that we can’t even imagine in the US.  So getting too drunk, walking around alone, messing with drugs, getting in with the wrong crowd, etc. could lead you into situations you can’t get out of.  Slow play the partying and keep your eyes open and you’ll be fine.  

The other question, "Where should you go?"

That all depends on what you’re looking for, but I’m going to take a wild guess and say you want someplace warm, with a beach, that’s not too expensive, where there are other backpackers?  That opens up one set of possibilities, but others want to volunteer, or to experience authentic culture more than partying and lying on the beach.  It also makes a huge difference if you’re just going backpacking around or trying to live there for a year and work.

When I chose a country to live in (not just vacation!) I have a rough guide of criteria, based on priorities.  Make your own list and then do some research what might be a good fit.    

Tier 1
• Cheap – lodging around $300-$500 a month, total budget around $1,500 a month.
• Nice beach – a beautiful white sand beach goes a long way in balancing out all other factors!
• Friendly people – Then again, I don’t care how beautiful a country is, if the people aren’t warm and friendly, I’ll keep it moving.  I’m not down with snobbery or arrogance.
• Safe politically – don’t be freaked out by one news story in a country (if we judged the US by that same standard we’d never want to visit!) but also don’t mess with places where a coup or political violence is occurring.  Same thing goes for countries with terrorism, religious radicals, or drug cartel problems.
• Good WIFI (no kidding – I write/work as I live abroad so I’m screwed without a serviceable internet connection)
• City, town, or village?  There are pros and cons to each as you balance amenities, convenience, laid back vibe, nature, etc.

Tier 2
• Healthy, cheap food – I want to say “Yummmmm,” for $3 a meal, not for $7 a meal and up.  
• Culture – things to do like visiting temples, ruins, archeological sites, natural wonders, etc.
• Night life – of course you want a little bit of fun, but are you looking for mellow beach bars or clubbing all night long?
• Safety walking the streets
• Ability to get work –teaching English, teaching yoga, or working at a hostel or bar are some of the best possibilities for local employment
• Some tourism, but not overrun – the problem you’ll encounter is that the places you want to go, everyone else in the world wants to go there, too.  The trick is to find a place that is ahead of the curve, not way behind it when it will be too crowded/too expensive/soulless.  
• Diversity of population – I like a place that has a healthy blend of backpackers, expatriates, vactioners, and plenty of locals who still live there – not just work there.  That’s harder to find than you’d think!


Tier 3
• Speak some English – you should attempt to learn the local lingo but it really helps when they speak a few words of English.
• Proximity – The southern tip of Patagonia in Argentina is amazing, but don’t think you’re just a hop, skip, and jump away from main cities.  It’s fun to be in a city/country where you can get around easily, hopping buses and even small flights around the country or region easily.  
• Good gym – since I’m living in these countries I want to go to the gym every day and especially love boxing or muay thai, etc., but maybe you just want to surf or do yoga, etc.
• Family friendly – I like locations that don’t just have a bunch of 20 year old kids but a cross section of real life, including families and people who are old (my age.)

Based on those criteria, some great spots I’d suggest:  Costa Rica, Panama, Nicaragua, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Cuba (I’m dying to go there!), India, Sri Lanka, Israel, Jordan, Ghana, Senegal, Vietnam (good one,) Cambodia, Thailand (a little too touristy for my liking,) Laos, Mynmar, the Philippines, and Bali in Indonesia.  That’s a short list.  You can do the Caribbean and Europe when you’re older, plus they’re a little too expensive. 

I hope that helps, and happy travels!

-Norm  :-)

His acoustic guitar floating with him, Hadfield’s well-rehearsed version did falsetto justice to the Bowie original:

“This is Major Tom to ground control,
I’m stepping through the door,
And I’m floating in the most peculiar way,
And the stars look very different today…”

At face value, the 1973 hit by iconic rocker David Bowie was a futuristic sci-fi ballad about Major Tom, a lone astronaut in space, but the deeper themes are about exploration of the human condition, the courage to be different, and the conflicting emotions of the detachment it takes to truly be free in this universe. 

Of course Hadfield left out the part where Major Tom reports problems to ground control, and even inserted his own name in the song a couple times.  Since its release and worldwide popularity, the whole team successfully came back to earth and Major Tom, err Chris Hadfield has retired from the space program, as planned.  Just like in the song Major Tom makes it back to earth and is celebrated by the press and his fans as a hero, but the real reward was a few solitary moments orbiting the earth and the view from the dark starry heavens that belonged only to him.  

My friend told me about this video last night and I was immediately moved by both the vulnerability and depth of it.  Coincidentally, I began listening to Bowie’s classic a few weeks ago as I write as an eerily-dreamy reminder that no one ever accomplishes anything important by keeping their feet on the ground.  

What really fascinates me is how unique Hadfield’s solo-above-the-stratosphere truly is.  He did something that no one, and I mean NO ONE, in the history of the earth has done.  That’s remarkable when you consider the thousands of years of mankind’s modern history and the fact that there have been 100 billion people on earth.  Think about that – there are infinite possibilities to create, to do something different, to be the conscious ground control in the mission of our own lives.  As time goes on you’d think that we as a race of artists and dreamers and explorers had LESS ideas to launch, but instead inexplicably we have more, exponentially it seems.  What a pure, weightless experience; to summon the courage to be an innovator and let your imagination soar into its own orbit.  Art, writing, music, creation, ambient knowledge - they keep expanding into previously dark and empty corners of our existence to give us warmth.  The democratization of ideas, our social web of conscience, people helping others a world away who they’ve never seen and will never know - interconnectedness like never before.  Somehow the world is getting bigger and smaller at the same time, spinning out of control but also hugged tightly by a gravity much bigger than ourselves.  

Luckily, I Googled “Floating villages, Cambodia” while I was waiting for him in the lobby because several notices came up warning tourists.  There are a few villages and two of them, Kompong Phluk and Chong Kneas, are the most popular with tour guides because they are closer to Siem Reap.  However, based on the reviews these authentic floating communities had become nothing more than well-organized shakedowns, with someone begging, selling, or demanding a donation every five minutes.  My driver was hesitant to take me all the way out to Kompong Khleang, the less popular village still almost untouched by tourism, because it was much further out on a bad road.  But he complied and we set out on impossibly bumpy dirt roads with soil so red it looked like crushed bricks.  

Kompong Khleang certainly did not disappoint.  The village, home to about 1,800 families or 6,000 total residents, is on Lake Tonlé Sap, Cambodia’s immense central lake that covers about 7,400 square miles when it floods (Lake Tahoe is only 191 square miles!)  The Lake receives the water from every river and tributary on the peninsula, from rivers way up north in China to the Mekong delta in Vietnam, making it a flood plain that swells enormously during the wet season.  The lake is Cambodia’s greatest natural resource, making it unique among other neighboring Southeast Asian countries and the largest fresh water body.  More than three million people live around the lake, 90% of them earning a living from fishing or agriculture, especially rice that grows hearty in the flood plains.

Nearly half the fish consumed in Cambodia come from this very lake, and it holds over 300 species of fish, as well as snakes, crocs, turtles, otters, and 100 species of birds like storks and pelicans.  But life for people in the countryside here is hard, a fight for survival among extremes.  They are so desperately poor it’s hard for me to comprehend through a western paradigm, and the majority of each and every day for them is just trying to secure food and shelter.  There are only two seasons in this part of the world (and near the equator) – the dry season, December through June, and the rainy season the rest of the time.  During the rainy season the water level could rise 20  to even 40 feet high, completely submerging villages.  

So the residents who live near the shores of the lake have to live there to make a living and eat, but also have to endure epic floods for months.  The solution is that they build floating villages to survive.  That could really mean two things – there are houses built on along the banks of the lake on giant stilts – sometimes 30 feet high – and residents get in by long ladders.  Other people live right on boats, or floating pontoon structures that look like extremely primitive houseboats.  So when the floodwaters rise, their houses rise right with it.  They have whole families living in one-room bamboo hovels on the water, and you’ll see cooking fires, general stores, schools, and even medical clinics floating along.  

There is actually a big class divide between the inhabitants who live in stilted houses, which are considered higher class (even though they are just simple one room bamboo huts, themselves) and the floating village people.  But when the lake rises every rainy season, the floating villagers move right along, while the water could come right up to the floorboards of the stilted houses,  or even partially submerge them.    

People hang their laundry out on their floating homes, burn cooking fires, jump in and bathe by the banks of the lake, send their kids to school on boats, visit their Pagodas, dry small sardine-like fish on huge racks, set up fish farms contained in water, haul in catches with huge nets, and harvest crustaceans they can eat and seashells by the bag they can haul to the next town and sell.  Even little kids row around long canoes or sometimes even sit in the water in 5-gallon buckets!  

The people were all amazed to see a tourist as I was enthralled by how they lived, but their big smiles and warm vibe never ceased to amaze me.  On the way out of town my driver stopped so I could take a picture of the rice fields and flood plains from a bridge, and I encountered a group of kids and a family who welcomed me.  I bought a bag of candy at the storefront next door and shared it with the kids, who all happily posed for a photo, waving and flashing the peace sign.

Norm   :-)

1.   Take better care of our women and children.
We need to do a much better job protecting those who cannot defend themselves.  Our mothers, daughters, and sons deserve our utmost care. 

2.   Be good to our environment.
Now, we know better, yet we keep on allowing out planet to be poisoned to a fatal degree because of greed and laziness.  Our Mother Earth is giving us life, so respecting her should be a priority.

3.   Stop hurting innocent people.
Terrorism, mass shootings, genocides, drone strikes, torture, false imprisonment, and the struggle of refugees should have no place in our world.

4.   Empower others.
The fastest way to change the world for the better is to help, encourage, and strengthen others, not ourselves.

5.   Talk less and listen more.
Everyone wants to be right, everyone rallies for their own agenda, and everyone says “but what about me?!”  Only by stopping that fast-moving train and instead wanting to listen to others can we foster understanding, and then compassion. 

6.   Eat real food.
Enough with the genetically modified, processed, radiated, and laboratory produced quasi-foods.  They’re sickening our society so let’s go back to the good, natural stuff. 

7.   Celebrate our differences.
Diversity shouldn’t be something we shy away from - that only leads to more fear and isolation.  It’s time to embrace the vivid and rich differences among us so we can see them for what they really are: beautiful. 

8.   Strive for a global community.
We are 7 billion members of the same species on the same planet at the same time in a big, infinite, timeless universe.  If that isn’t enough in common to see ourselves as brothers and sisters in the same global family, I don’t know what is.

9.  Understand the real struggle.
Conflicts in this world are never about who did what to whom, political parties, nations, or even religious ideologies.  The true struggle throughout history has always been about those who bloodlust for money and power, and their efforts to distract and control the disenfranchised.

10.   Grow strong enough to be tolerant and compassionate.
Real strength is never about standing over someone; it’s about helping them up.  Our first instinct is often to judge, label, and defend our egos against others, but we should try to see ourselves as their kindly, warm-hearted benefactors, instead.

11.   Invest in the next generation.
If only we could build schools, not bombs; provide opportunities, not force opinions, and nurture our youth to rise above the mistakes we’ve made - the world will be an amazing place within a very short time. 

12.   Don’t give up on the world.
To heal our planet, we need to demand positive changes from our leaders, our fellow citizens, and especially ourselves.  This is not negotiable – NOW is the time.

13.    Slow down.
Stop.  Breathe.  Look around you.  Breathe again!  Smile.  Laugh.  Absorb the things you love that make you happy and let go of everything else.  For this, you will never feel regret. 

14.    Spread only light.
My final New Year’s resolution for our world is that we try to spread only that which is good, true, and pure in our short time on earth, so we may help and serve the other life forms around us.  That is the only legacy that matters.  


Have a great 2014!

-Norm    :-)