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The heavy mist on the earth this morning made our experience seem even more like a dream: twenty or so monks in orange robes in procession coming toward us as if they were being born of the fog itself. One by one in silence they approach with silver bowls in hand. On the side of the road women and children line up straw mats where they kneel with flowers, money, fruits and baskets of rice.

The woman who does massage in town recognizes me and beckons us over to her mat. Saya and I join her there and watch as the first monk in line reaches the mat. The first woman on the mat lifts a beautiul flower and some cash. She holds it to her forehead with her head bowed in prayer before placing the alms in the monk's bowl. Each woman makes a contribution, and the procession continues. After the first monk or two, the contributions are cupfuls of rice. One cupful for each monk as he pauses.

The Thai woman who does massage invites me to participate on her behalf. I pour a cupful of rice grain into each monk's bowl and bow my respect. The ritual is silent save for the soothing sound of rice grains cascading into each silver bowl. The massage woman and the older woman beside her nod in approval of my delivery, so I ease into the ritual.

These monks are children. My best guess puts them at nine or 10 for age. They look neither happy nor sad. This, I find, is common of monks. They seem at peace. Calm, exhibiting neither highs nor lows. The practice of meditation wisely teaches to be with what's so.

The last monk is before us now and each woman lifts her entire rice bowl or basket and empties the remainder into the final monk's bowl. The last two monks chant a prayer before our mat. We keep our heads bowed. I want to soak up every detail of this moment.

They walk away, the mist takes over, and I am left feeling exhilarated and honored to have been part of this. This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences, and I'm acutely aware of that as it's happening.

The old woman on our mat beams at us. She is enthusiastically trying to tell us something in Thai. I wish so badly that I could understand her. But I'm relieved that she looks so pleased. She smiles at us so purely that I can sense her joy. It's not the "bless your heart" smile that I was afraid of getting for being so obviously clueless about this sacred practice. No, it's not that kind of smile at all, so my anxiety melts away, and I accept the love that this woman is exuding.

Saturday morning mist, monks and love.

Please laugh as you read this. I recount this story in the hopes that people will find amusement in my extreme case of paranoia. 

My first experience of Chiang Rai was one of panic. I had heard and read a lot of safety warnings about the region's reputation for drug trafficking (since it's in the Golden Triangle) and am aware that solo female travelers make good targets for mules. My friends and family had warned me to be on my guard when traveling alone and to abandon my characteristic trait of being overly trusting of people, including strangers.

I arrived at Chiang Rai Airport around 10pm. The whole ride I felt harassed by the man sitting next to me. He didn't speak a word of English, and I don't speak a word of Thai, so I thought he might give up on our conversation quickly enough, but he patiently persisted through the entire flight. He insisted on getting my phone number. I didn't know how to communicate that I have no number that works in Thailand, and that he needs a country code to dial my US number.

When we got off the plane, he wanted me to share a cab with him and his brothers. Typically, I am very trusting and would have thought this was a nice gesture. But I had my guard up and was neither going to get in a cab with this man nor give him the address where I was staying. Now I was getting nervous. The airport was practically deserted. I wondered if my paranoid nightmare could come true - was I in danger of being kidnapped by drug or human traffickers? I shouldn't have watched Brokedown Palace - a movie about two girls who get targeted to traffic drugs in Thailand and end up in a Thai prison - just before leaving home.

The belt at baggage claim stopped before my bag appeared. The day before my bag had gotten stuck in Tokyo, so I hadn't seen it since I left the US. I was grateful when I saw an airport official wheeling it out of a back room toward me. By that time my seat partner from the airplane had given up. I went to the taxi stand to get a ride to New Life Foundation in Wiang Chai, a little ways outside of Chiang Rai. I handed them the handwritten address of the Foundation. The first few people who inspected it couldn't decipher it because I'd written it down in Roman letters. I can't write in Thai. Shit. Finally, one of the women pointed to part of the address with recognition and assigned a driver to me. 

The driver led me to his car and loaded my bag into the trunk. Before getting into the car myself, I hesitated, trying to convince myself that this was a safe decision and that this stranger was a legitimate cab driver who would deliver me safely to my destination. The reason my fear kicked in was that the car had no markings of a cab. The cabs in Bangkok had lights on top that said "taxi-meter." Inside of those cabs, were running meters in the dashboard and driver ID and credentials in the left window. Before me now were none of those reassuring indicators.

For the duration of the ride, I sat in the back seat scarcely breathing. Part of me knew that I was being ridiculous, but another part of me realized that I had just stepped into the back of some man's car alone on a dark night with no mode of communication. My mind ran through worst-case scenarios, and I brainstormed my escape route. My pepper spray was in my suitcase, which was in the trunk. Fuck. No phone. Fuck. How long would it even be before my friends and family realized I was missing? I had e-mailed them that I didn't expect to have access to internet while I was at the Foundation, so not to panic if they didn't hear from me for the next two weeks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

The ride took about 45 minutes. I hadn't the slightest idea whether it was supposed to be a 10-minute ride or an hour-long ride. This uncertainty aided my panic as we drove farther and farther from the airport. 

Relief washed over me when I saw us turn at a sign that said 'New Life Foundation.' I recognized the sign from a picture I'd seen while doing my research. Oh, thank God, thank God!

When we pulled up, our first greeter was Jack, the three-legged Dog. It's a funny feeling being surprised to be alive. Everyone welcomed me with smiles and made me feel instantly at home with them. And so began my New Life journey. 

Woke up in Bangkok this morning after a very restful night's sleep at the On Nut Guesthouse on Sukhumvit Street.

I splurged for the night and got my own private room rather than bunking with other travelers. 'Splurge' is a relative term since my stay cost me 625 Thai Baht (THB), which equates to about $20 USD. The room is nothing fancy, but it is the perfect place to rest between flights.

I order breakfast at the guesthouse in the morning. It costs 35 THB, which is a few cents over a dollar. Definitely an affordable meal.

The breakfast is traditional Thai rice pudding and salted egg. The rice pudding is like rice soup. Simple and easy on the stomach. Tasty and filling. The salted egg is similar to a boiled egg in terms of consistency, but the flavor is unfamiliar and not particularly pleasant for me. 

I pay 20 THB to use the computer and internet before heading out for the day. I realize when I am emailing back home that I am eating Sunday breakfast while my friends and family are finishing Saturday's dinner. It strikes me that I've adapted quickly to the time zone. So far, no jet lag. I guess it helps that I got here at night so I was able to go right to sleep.

I have a hell of a time getting my nerve up to leave the hostel and roam a foreign city on my own. I consider camping out in the room all day - reading and writing - but this is my chance to explore Bangkok, so I get over my uneasiness and head out. 

I ask the guys at the desk to order me a taxi to take me to some of the tourist sites I'd bookmarked in my guidebook. They tell me it would be much smarter to take the AirTrain. They pull out a map to show me which station was nearest, which line to take, where to transfer and where to get off. I panick. I think surely I'll get lost and confused trying to figure out the train system in another language when I'm not even very sure of where I am trying to go. 

I've got to say, though, that I am very proud of myself. I did it! The Air Train system is actually very clear and logical. So, I walk down Sukhumvit to the On Nut station. I take the train from On Nut to Siam where I transfer to Saphan Taksin. There I get off and charter a longtail boat to take me to the floating market. 

The longtail boats are beautiful. A decorative art form as much as a means of transportation. The boat is long and narrow. Wooden with a pointed front that reaches into the sky. There is a canvas above the seats and flowers hanging off the bow.

The boat sits low in the water, so we get a few splashes here and there. The water of the Chao Phraya River doesn't smell great, but getting splashed is really no big deal considering the heat.

There are swarms of boats on the river. Other decorative longtails like ours full of tourists, but many other boats as well. The river ride gives a more complete view of the city of Bangkok. From here you can see the signs of the modern city - skyscrapers, trains, highways - juxtaposed with the historical and traditional Thai buildings - the exquisit Royal Thai Palace, the Royal Barges and the Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn).

We take a detour off the main stretch of the river. It's like a back alley except fluid. The houses are built right into the water. They're rickety shacks only a few inches above the water. I don't know how they survive a flood or rain storm. The mail boxes are right on the water. People are lounging on their porches, stray dogs and cats are snoozing and every few meters there's a giant sleeping lizard soaking up the sun. Lizard isn't the right word for this. It's closer to an alligator. (Thanks to Google, I now know it's called a Water Monitor).

When our boat arrives at the floating market, we are told we have 20 minutes to explore. I step off the boat and see a family enjoying a lunch of crab and snails. I look into the water and notice hundreds of fish swarming the dock. I crouch to take a picture and see a few stray dogs to my left and merchants floating by with baskets of foods and ingerdients. There are some familiar veggies like tomatoes and then countless others I cannot name. There is a bucket of eels squirming in one of the boats next to another boat with fried fish, noodles and rice.

The merchants wear wide-brimmed straw hats - exactly how I imagined. The market has people playing instruments and selling slices of fruit in plastic bags.

I am so thirsty and craving fruit but I know not to eat fruit here that I don't peel myself. I had passed a street vendor much earlier in the day selling coconuts, and I've been craving one ever since. I have my task cut out for me to find a coconut vendor. Once I got my hands on that coconut I could not have been more pleased. For 15 baht  the vendor selects a coconut that has been chilling in ice water. He chopps off the top, sticks a straw in it and hands me a spoon. The coconut water is sweet and fresh and delicious. When I finish drinking I spoon out the coconut flesh. I think it's got to be one of my favorite snacks. I am grateful of my time in Belize that taught me to drink and eat fresh coconut. I think if I hadn't already been introduced, I wouldn't have known to order it.

She keeps giggling at me and pinching the top of my hand. I think she's checking if I am real - making sure I'm not a figment of her imagination. She asks me if I am alone which I take to mean whether or not I am travelling alone. It makes me nervous but I answer truthfully, checking that my belongings are all secured to my body. Ever since stepping onto the longtail, I'd actually forgotten how alone I am until she brings it back to my attention.

Revisiting the moment later, I re-interpret her question and laugh to myself that I hadn't pieced it all together sooner. She was asking if I am single. When I'd taken my leave of her and her friends, she'd reached out to grab my hand. I took her hand to shake it, but she blushed and then lifted my hand and kissed it. I wasn't expecting that and didn't know how to react on the spot so I just smiled back and blushed myself before stepping back into the boat. According to my Thailand guidebook, Bangkok has such a thriving gay life that it puts San Francisco to shame.

My 19-hour layover was the extent of my exploration of Bangkok. Now I'm headed to volunteer / WWOOF at the New Life Foundation near Chiang Rai in the very north of Thailand. The Bangkok airport is an impressive airport for its architecture, and the Thai Airways flight amuses me for its multi-colored seats. 

Arrived in Bangkok safe and sound. I was blessed to be asleep like a baby during the entire seven-hour flight from Tokyo. I had an empty seat next to me - a saving grace. I curled up like a cat across the two seats and was out cold before takeoff. I managed to wake up just in time for the food cart, after which I promptly fell back asleep. I'm glad to be a tiny person when it comes to levels of comfort on plane rides. I can be quite compact when necessary.

Anyway, the meal was pretty out-of-this-world. Oishii! They managed to fit tons of variety onto that tiny tray - inari (what grandma always called brown bag), two types of rice, white fish, shrimp, soba noodles, seaweed salad, pancakes w/ red bean paste, miso soup and some type of custard.

The service on the flight was outstanding as well. Leagues ahead of even the most top-of-the-line service I'm used to on US carriers. The airline was Thai, but the crew members were all Japanese. I did wonder why all the overhead announcements were made first in Japanese and second in English, but never in Thai. I enjoyed listening to the Japanese, though. I love the way it sounds - so polite, friendly and inviting - and the way the letters look. I wish I remembered how to read it better. I feel like I would be able to pick it back up if I wanted to. It all looks and sounds so familiar, yet out of my reach. 

Thai, on the other hand, has me completely lost. The written text is beautiful but so entirely foreign to me that I feel a bit bewildered. The language is tonal, adding to the complexity. The people I've encountered so far do not speak much English at all. The hostel I'm staying at offers free 20-minute Thai language crash courses, so I'm definitely planning on attending that in a few hours. I'm self conscious of my English here, embarassed that I'm so ill equipped for conversation with everyone around me.

Unimportant, but on my mind, is that my bags got stuck in Tokyo. No big deal so far. They should arrive in Bangkok Airport this evening at the same time that I'll be arriving to fly up to Chiang Rai. The hope is that my bag and I will be able to catch the same flight. I must say, the airport personnel were very helpful - always good under such circumstances.

In the airport, flowers decorate the corridors and baggage claim kiosks.

On the cab ride from the airport to the hostel I noticed that the highway signs are identical to the ones in the US. Same size, same color green with white letters. Most of them are written in Thai, but some also have English letters, which appear in the same font as our is the US. So foreign yet so familiar. The obvious signs of globalization. 

Distinguishing their highways from ours were beautiful, gold statues every few meters along the road leading from the airport. They were lit with spotlights and always in pairs - one on each side of the road. They weren't particularly large, but pretty ornate. I don't want to act as if I know what they were statues of, but they looked like little, holy cherubs praying to Buddha or welcoming visitors to the city. They had pointy hats and wings with their hands together in prayer position.

That's all for now. I may not have internet connection again for the rest of my trip.