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Author Topic: Dear Morning Fog  (Read 29072 times)

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #90 on: May 03, 2019, 09:44:54 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Bamboo Flower and I are expecting a little boy soon. The doctor says he already looks like me. But, you know it: joking, joking.

But with Bamboo Flower's beauty, I expect that he will look very cute.

So, a deep sadness tormented me tonight because I am about to return to the U.S. Not that I don't feel loved by Bamboo Flower. I do. She does care about me just as much as I care about her. With this new baby, too, we have grown to love each other even more. We both aren't even thinking about the baby as much as we think about each other these days. But it's the baby that has made us so.

Anyway, flashback to that fight Steaming Bell had against the thugs.

"Go?" Steaming said to the guy. "I don't go. I don't run. I brought you here to give you all a lesson."

"I don't fight you," said the man.

"Then you run or I beat you," Steaming Bell said. "Whose idea for you to rob me?"

"Oh. Boss. Our boss," he said. "He's gang leader in our group. He has many bigger connections. Lots of gangs. Lots of thieves. Lots of robbers. No respect for women. No respect for weak people. We take every time we see someone."

"Not today," Steaming Bell said.

"I don't want boss to see me. I go now," man said and flashed into the deep bamboo jungles on the hillside.

Steaming Bell was already surrounded by all the others.


« Last Edit: May 04, 2019, 05:08:07 AM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #91 on: August 07, 2019, 05:59:50 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Steaming Bell said he is so happy to have gotten out of that fight with the thugs.

"No time to think," he said. "I just moved as needed...First, upper cut to the jaw of the guy right in front. He fell off.

'Then once I knew it, my arms were already wrapped around the neck of the guy to the far left. Wrapped like a chain around a metal pole...Same time, my horizontal front kick straight to the face of the guy to the far right.

'All three almost fell down at the same time."

"And the big guy? The boss?" I asked.

"He didn't have time to react. But as soon as he was ready to come towards me, I was already holding tight onto the neck of that guy. I was behind him as the boss was approaching us.
The boss's feet were flying from the left and the right and the left and the right. Almost like a propeller that was spinning from both sides. So, I had to use the guy to block the boss's kicks."

Each foot slap almost threw Steaming Bell and the guy in his arms down, Steaming Bell said.

Then the guy died and Steaming Bell had nothing to use to block those kicks anymore.

A duel that went through the rest of the day and night--Steaming Bell had to fly over tree tops and across valleys to avoid being hit for three days and nights, eating just the fruits he picked up on trees and vines and drinking only the dew he came across.

"The night fights were tough," Steaming Bell said. "The guy had an almost invisible, long glass stick. I could not see the stick coming. Not only was it night and dark but the stick was transparent and, you know it--invisible. So, I had to lead him to moonlight spots just to see some glare each time he swung out the stick. And I felt his breathing each time he exerted for his efforts. That was how I was able to know when and where the stick was coming from. Suddenly, he hit a large stone the size of an elephant that broke his stick in two halves.

"We turned to hand-to-hand combats and feet-to-feet, too. Yet he couldn't kill me. I couldn't kill him.

"Then by morning, I managed to break a bamboo stick and started shaking all of the dew off the whole jungle. Wherever he was reaching for, I rushed ahead and shook down the leaves. He had no drink and he started to slow down his moves.

"Of course, I collected some dew for me already."

It was starvation and thirst that made the thug leader give up. He finally told Steaming Bell how to get back to Chiang Mai from there.

Anyway, we'll be in Loei towards Ban Vinai soon, Morning Fog.


« Last Edit: August 07, 2019, 08:27:09 PM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #92 on: September 11, 2019, 12:03:39 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Steaming Bell says he would like the police guy who ran into him after his fight with the thugs--he would like this officer to tag along with us to Ban Vinai.

But I am declining that. I appreciate that he helped Steaming Bell find his way back to Chiang Mai. But I have two reservations about this guy: 1. He might not be as sincere as he was with Steaming Bell, now that we are seen as capable and financially strong, and 2. I don't like just having him tag along without paying him for his time. The cost can't be tiny, since it's quite a distance over many days.

So, I  have convinced Steaming Bell not to take along this guy. I'm sure we can handle any other gang along the way.

Bamboo Flower might tag along. She says she wants to see our old camp site and what I used to do as a little kid there. But I'm not sure I want to expose her to any danger along the way, especially now that she's due soon.

We'll see.

But just four days ago, I was challenged by the snake clan. I was driving a pickup truck to a farm to pick up some corns. On the way there, I suddenly saw a snake the size of a typical toe on the road right on my side just before the yellow line towards the oncoming traffic. Because I didn't see it until the last second, I ran over its body on the mid-section.

I wasn't sure if it had died at that time. But after I had picked up the bucket of corns and returned there, I saw its white belly facing up. It no longer moved. Looked like some other cars may have run over it, too. It wasn't exactly where it was originally; it had been pushed farther away from the center yellow line.

So, I knew it had died.

I apologized to it and said it was because I could not stop for any second to avoid the accident.

Apparently, the local snake clan felt I had run over this one on purpose. So, they tested me to see if I was believeable or if I had any hatred towards snakes.

On my second trip to pick up a second bucket of corns, I saw another same-size snake just a few houses away on the same road, the same side of the road, and the same distance from the middle yellow line. This time I saw a figure like a tiny twig ahead of me in the distance. And it moved just a bit. So, I knew it was another snake.

I drove to close to it, slowed down a bit and veered to the far right to avoid running over it. After I had returned from the farm, the snake was gone.

Now, the snake clan finally was convinced that the first one died of an unavoidable accident and not on purpose. If I had run over this second one, too, they would now think I had wanted to just get rid of their kind. And they would start a war against me, and maybe our kind.

But I'm glad that's over with now. I feel terrible and very apologetic about the death of that snake. But it was not my fault. It put itself on a human-man road, and so I couldn't avoid running over it. They will just have to accept their loss.

Anyway, Steaming Bell has recovered from his fight. Got just a few scratches and bruises on his shoulders and back. We'll be heading to Ban Vinai soon.



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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #93 on: September 12, 2019, 06:46:01 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

The bully has continued to do what he does best: bullying other martial artists around town in the States. Just the other day, he lured another master to an alley. That master was not used to the tight space of that alley and was also claustrophobic but  yet still dared to challenge the bully. After two hours of sparring and even hopping onto the walls to kick at one another, the bully subdued the master to a corner. The master's left arm got broken and a bone had pushed out his flesh.

Two guys on a nearby window hear the bully declare victory on the spot.

Steaming Bell is bothered by this. But we also agree that we have to accomplish our mission of coming to you first. After all, we have come this far already. And it has been decades since we first set foot on Ban Vinai.




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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #94 on: September 23, 2019, 09:09:01 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Bamboo Flower is about to give birth to our first daughter.

By that, I further suggest that there will be a second.

That's because we are planning on having a rather large family of about three children and two adults.

We'll see if Bamboo Flower can take the pains of giving birth after this first one.

The doctors in Chiang Mai tell us she's due in just two months. Of course, her belly is showing.

And, you know, the bigger her belly is, the more beautiful she becomes. I think part of that is due to her personality.

I've realized that, as we get older, we don't want coarse or thorny conversations or acts. We want soft words and loveable acts. That does not have to be the acts and words of what America has come to know as Giligan's Island's Ginger. But just not so thorny words and acts. Bamboo Flower is full  of stuff like that and more to me.

So, I have moved Steaming Bell to a local motel with my own expenses. He would be there until we are able to find a safe travel plan to Ban Vinai.



« Last Edit: September 25, 2019, 07:26:41 PM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #95 on: September 25, 2019, 07:36:14 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

We have decided to take the bus instead of driving on our own or paying a taxi service to Ban Vinai.

Steaming Bell now agrees that the more unrelated people we have with us, the safer. So, the bus is the most direct and safest way over any private jet and any train that would further require us to commute from distant stations to Ban Vinai.

The bus station tells us it would take about 12 hours, due to the various rest stops along the way.

But that will be only to Loei's capital--Loei also. From there, to you might take a few more hours. We might have errands or other rest stops in Pak Choum. Just because there are so many natural street foods such as freshly-netted mud fish, minuscule dark crabs and shrimps as well as bamboo shoots, sticky rice, etc. along Loei's border and the nearby provinces, we might spend quite a bit of times once in Loei. 

We'll see. I'll alert you again soon.


« Last Edit: September 26, 2019, 02:59:22 PM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #96 on: December 29, 2019, 04:31:36 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Muang Loei is not as much a part of Ban Vinai as Ban Vinai is a part of it: both are within the territory of Loei Province of Thailand just across the Mekong River from Laos. But they are an hour and a half from each other. And people have brought Loei items to Vinai but never the other way around.

Muang Loei residents have never envied Ban Vinai. To them, it's just a small, remote village, even considered backward at that. Some don't even know about it. But our elders envied Muang Loei just as much as even elite Americans envy Washington, DC or as much as most foreigners envy the U.S. but only because our elders didn’t know more about Bangkok at the time. 

Every hard-earned little coin and paper bill—and big ones, too--that our elders had saved up from selling noodles or backyard chards or butchered by-the-kilo pork and beef and even those larger exchanged amounts they had received from America and France went into the three-hour round-trip bus ride to and other purchases in Muang Loei. A new pair of flip-flopd, a new T-shirt with Thai writings on it or dress shirt or both, a pair of rubber shoes or some times dress shoes, ties, and jackets—brand-new and never second-handed—much raised the wearers’ status in the camp and gave the family enough self-esteem and pride to continue living on after all the despairs from the war across the Mekong River. Good thing the CIA, the UN, and the UNCHR and other NGO took care of most of our foods.

Of course, as you also know, one who had returned from Muang Loei would look a bit more handsome or beautiful as a result, just as many elders now would look like heroes to the young chicks in Laos and across most of Southeast Asia.

But Loei, with close to 700,000 people—from infants to seniors--is not all that it’s imagined to be, Morning Fog.  There’s not much night glittery even in the center of the city. No. Nothing compared to Bangkok, which is not only the capital of the country but the next best thing to places like Tokyo or Paris or New York—you know, it glitters every night and day with flashing signs beaconng people to doors and tables of goods and services and car honking all over. Beauty beyond belief for the eyes of a war-torn, formerly agrarian culture.  Ban Vinai’s dilapidated conditions just augmented Loei’s appearances. But somehow Bangkok was no more than just a last stop to Minnesota for our elders and no one really aspired to take the bus beyond Muang Loei at the time.

Just step a few buildings away from the center of it all and one goes straight into pebble roads with farm houses scattered here and there. That was not hard to do at all.

But Muang Loei has its advancements that only Ban Vinai could ever dream of. There’s a nationally known university here and various technical colleges that would take over the high school graduates to prepare them for the responsibiliti es of families and beyond. Professional boxers here have won national competitions in Bangkok. Many professionals such as doctors, lawyers, and engineers all over. Our elders missed all of these, because they had focused more on what really caught the eyes and not the imagination. Okay, they didn’t miss the doctors because many ailed people in Vinai had treated here.

So, again, we obviously hadn’t heard much about Bangkok except that it was the place we would bus to before heading to Minnesota.
I expect you to just fly over Loei and go straight to Bangkok if you wanted to travel to the U.S. one day.

Steaming Bell and I are near Pak Choum and should be in Na Kho and Vinai soon. Steaming Bell says not to worry about the bully, because he's way back in America and, apparently, does not know we're are here.


« Last Edit: December 30, 2019, 11:21:58 PM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #97 on: January 19, 2020, 06:29:52 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

We are done with Muang Loei and will be heading to the next whatever town the bus may take us before stopping in Pak Choum.

I have asked the bus driver to make sure we stop in Pak Choum, because I want to see what it's like now compared to what has been in my head the year my family first arrived on Thai shores and passed through Pak Choum then. Steaming  Bell, too, says he remembers just a bit of it, partly because his brother used to exchange manpower with a Thai farmer there for some daily bahts.

Earnings were little, Steaming Bell says. But his brother needed to marry a hot Hmong chick in Ban Vinai just down the valley and up the other hillside from where you are, Morning Fog. They were in love and have had many trips to the top of that hill, Steaming Bell says his brother has told him. So, little by little picking cotton balls and cutting woods earned his brother enough to buy two genuine silver bars. His relatives just added 500 bahts more and she became his with the community's permission.

Anyway, Ta E  has reported back to us by dropping a face cloth of blood writings about the situation above.

That guy who pulled the plug of the Heavenly Pool just to flood the Heavens so he could create a flood that he alone could undo--well, he got discovered when the Northern Heaven Court sent messengers to investigate the cause of the flood. The man's plan was to take over Ta E's career by claiming Ta E had traveled down here and leaving the Heavens in a disaster that the man would solve if he was guaranteed Ta E's job.

Both leaders from the West and South somehow bought into that. But the Northern and Eastern leaders sent a messenger to the even higher Heavens above them to send down a neutral investigator to check on the cause. The man is a Western birth boy whose parents had some connections to higher authorities in the South. That's why those sections seemed to be taking his side.

The higher Heaven's investigator didn't even need to come down. His kaleidoscope from his cloud tower could show video-like images of all life from millions of years past to the millions of years in the future. So, he just cut up that piece that was in question and shone the video onto the ceilings of the court that was in charge of the man's case.

The video shows the man making his plan even when he was still down here on Earth. He knew Ta E was busy with Steaming  Bell and me, and so he quickly died and got transported back to the Heavens. His hope was to take over Ta E's job and, therefore, career, while Ta E was unavailable to run the responsibiliti es above.

The man realized the Heavens would see him if he had just gone to the pool's plug any time of the day, including day night times. So, he cut up some kaying leaves and wrapped himself up very well before he walked to the pool. The Heaven's eyes could not see through those leaves. But the video has captured his foot steps right from his door; he did not cover his feet up with kaying leaves.

"The evidence does not show your true image at the pool," says the Northern Judicial King. "But we see your foot steps from your door. Now you are the one pointing fingers at someone else. How do we know you didn't intentionally cause the flood?"

"Those are foot steps only," says the man. "They could have been anyone else. I am not the only one living there."

Yet he could not prove any other man lived at his house.

The Northern Judicial King ordered some guards to take the man back to those foot prints and matched his foot prints with those. It has turned out that his feet fit exactly those foot steps that the video images have portrayed.

Now, all judicial officers of all four corners of the Heavens agreed that this man was guilty and should be chained up for one Earthly life times--120 years--before he would be allowed to reincarnate again.

Steaming Bell and I are having some fried fish on Ma Kham Wan street this afternoon. We'll get on the bus in the early morning, Morning Fog.


« Last Edit: January 19, 2020, 06:35:44 PM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #98 on: May 29, 2020, 08:53:46 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Sorry I had not reported to you sooner. But we are already in Pak Choum and touring the south side of this farmy city.

Overlooking the Mekong is Laos.

Memories of our past came on as  Steaming Bell and I look silently onto those woodlands yonder.

Steaming Bell recalls his family competing in Long Cheng for some free airplane rides to Thailand. His family was among those who first lined up and got onto the first plane in mid-May 1975. He said he remembers seeing lines and lines of people chasing the plane as it was running on the airstrip as well as those who were still making their ways down the mountainsides to the airfield.

Within just a few hours, the plane landed in an old military camp in Thailand. I thought that was Ban Vinai. But he said it had a different name like some kind of water or lake. I have never been there, so I don't know. My family came straight to Ban Vinai, where you are now. And that's the only camp I know of.

Steaming Bell's family then got onto a free bus ride to Ban Vinai before my family made it there. You can tell us more about how your family settled there when we get to you.

But my family was one of the first groups that crossed the Mekong on an old canoe, operated by two young fishermen under the order of an older local Thai village chief.

"It was dark, shortly after a rainfall last night," my maternal grandfather told the Thai officials who were checking us out at that remote  Thai farm south of Pak Choum. "We can't tell what they looked like. They were fishing, and we just asked them to canoe us across."

Four of the five well-dressed Thai cops were not convinced. So, one asked if we paid those smugglers anything.

"No. It was all free," my dad said. "See? Our silver bars all still here."

Then a five officer said, "Oh. You know, my colleagues, if it was after the short rainfall, then it was already dark. They couldn't have seen what anyone looked like so clearly."

All seemed convinced and invited us to their office for some immigration paperwork. But my father told them that we were waiting for someone to bring foods for us kids and that we couldn't go yet. They just left us alone after saying we should report to them wherever we were going.

A Hmong couple from Ban Vinai happened to be making some Thai Bahts at a nearby Thai farm. The man saw us and came to talk to my elders. Then he used a few of the Thai Bahts he had earned so far and took a Tuk-Tuk to Ban Vinai to fetch some of our relatives there.

Within two hours, our relatives arrived with a songtheo and we got on for the camp.

Subsequent stories about other families crossing here were horrible, Morning Fog! Grannies and grandpas and some babies got washed downstream.  One guy said his relatives created a raft and everyone got on. But at night in the middle of the river, a strong current hit the raft down a few thatches in length. Two people fell off and they could not be found again. Another guy's family was fortunate to have some tubes to ride on. There were six of them, so they had strung three tubes together each and tried to cross in two groups. One leading person was not strong enough to drag the two behind him through; they dragged him down instead. So, that family lost all three of those.

There were many more that our memories are now fading on. So, I can't tell you all of them.

But one impressive group came with about 150 families. Just imagine how many people there were, since each family was made up of between 3 and 12 persons, one guy told me.

Leaders of this group had guns they kept that the CIA had abandoned in Laos. So, they had made their ways through the jungles for several months, foraging as well as scouting every valley and mountain before letting the large group go through.

A motor boat much like a pontoon with one Lao and one Thai fishermen on was coming down the river.

The leaders with guns arrested them and ordered them to transport everyone across the Mekong.

After several hours of night work, everyone got over to Thai shores.

The two pilots asked to leave.

"No," said one of the leaders with a rifle in hand. "Wait just a minute. Your work is not over yet."

They were shaking to their feet, unsure of what to expect, both fearing for their lives more than ever.

The leader then took two empty burlap sacks and went around to all of the smugglees.

Soon those bags were full of money.

The leader brought those back to the pilots, handed one to each and also instructed that they could share the values equally.

"You can go now," he said.

Morning Fog, Steaming Bell wants to stay here for a few more days before we get over to Vinai. But we'll be seeing you real soon.


« Last Edit: May 30, 2020, 09:25:58 PM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #99 on: June 08, 2020, 10:20:22 AM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Time does not fly but moves along constantly, and we just can't stop it. In fact, we can't even see it. Sure, we look at a clock or watch to see the numbers moving. But that's just what we have created to help us pace through our activities. The natural time could be faster than the second hand or slower than it. We can't tell. We just know that the moments are passing along. We can tell this by our surprising we look after a while or something.

So, Steaming Bell and I can't be milling around Pak Choum, telling each other stories of those who have managed to cross the Mekong, those who didn't, and those whom we really never knew about.

We're coming.

Steaming Bell already secured a songtheo driver for tomorrow. We'll decided not to take a taxi or a bus. The bus will has too many people and is inflexible. The taxi is too expensive and they'll charge us for every second we are on it, whether we are stopping at an open-air vendor just to get some roasted fish and sticky rice or whether we are on the road rushing to you. So, the songtheo's fee stays the same regardless of what we need it for.

Paying isn't a problem, as I'll be taking care of all of our expenses. But Steaming Bell says we just don't want to be abused by the taxi charges.

So, tonight, we're roasting our own crabs and frogs with bamboo sticky rice. We'll pack some over to Vinai. But I don't think it's a rarity there.


« Last Edit: July 02, 2020, 10:00:36 AM by Reporter »

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Offline ProudLao

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #100 on: June 08, 2020, 12:44:14 PM »
Good read.

Been like forever since our escape days, the camp, and the trip to America but it is locked deep in our memories.



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I take refuge in the dharma.
I take refuge in the sangha.

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #101 on: July 02, 2020, 10:00:45 AM »
 Thanks.

Good read.

Been like forever since our escape days, the camp, and the trip to America but it is locked deep in our memories.



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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #102 on: July 02, 2020, 11:36:35 AM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Steaming Bell says he wants us to stop at Nas Qhob first. But I said there isn't much memory for us there, so that we should just have the songtheo guy take us straight to Vinai. We are actually debating about this.

He said his brother told him his brother's friend's friend won several stage fights in Nas Qhob, and that we should go check out the open-air Muay Thai ring before coming to you.

I told him the only thing I remembered as Nas Qhob is that it had a rice grinding machine and lots of Hmong and Lao people took our sacks of rice there to dehusk. That took out the shells more quickly in larger volumes than it would take us to step on the manual wooden grinder to dehusk the rice.   And it was surely faster than using our hands or teeth. That's why we have never used our finger nails or teeth to grind sacks and sacks of rice.

But we heard the other day that three groups of people came by Nas Qhob and each pair pretended to be Steaming Bell and me--acting tough like Steaming Bell normally does if left alone. They must have heard from you of our trip there. The stage was still there, and they were challenged to fight against two of the locals. But those groups all just walked away because they knew they couldn't use the American image to intimidate away those tough fighters. Two groups had not trained for so long, they couldn't remember their own martial arts moves.

But they felt accomplished because they had the integrity of not fighting, said our local coconut seller that Steaming Bell introduced me to under the tree.

But he said they acted tough around, even on some buses, until they were invited to fight.

I told Steaming Bell we had no grudge nor relations there, so we might just pass. The stage wouldn't give us any fond memory anyway. Nothing special to either of us. We like to see what we once saw before, not what someone else had seen before that had no meaning to us. China wouldn't feel like home. Actually, Bangkok, with its Asian majority, still didn't feel like home to us.  We're so much apart of a more diverse society that we'd feel more comfortable living where there are black and white figures hopping around, not where everyone looked like we do. We don't belong where everything is just one color, Morning Fog. We don't feel comfortable with just Asians anymore.  Not even just Asian-Americans. And I want him to take you to where we belong. He has agreed to do that if we can find you again.

That guy who won a few matches there did lose one last fight before he migrated to America and died in a western state. Not sure if it was Oregon or Washington but one where lots of Asians and Asian-Americans are who have been there for close to 200 years now. Since he's not close to either me or Steaming Bell, we never got to know him enough for us to miss him or feel a loss in his death. Steaming Bell says the guy is the one we saw a long time ago. But we never got to shake his hands nor he ours. So, no connection there. Nothing like what Steaming Bell had with you: kissing your cheek while you still had your toothpaste on near the night jar.

So, we really are rushing to see you and the spot where we had that toddler fight some years ago. That spot is just memory, but you are his heart just as Bamboo Flower is mine. We'll be there soon.


« Last Edit: July 03, 2020, 05:03:41 AM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #103 on: July 03, 2020, 05:12:43 AM »
Dear Morning Fog,

We are almost there now.

The songtheo driver says the street foods people between Nas Qhob and there don't care to charge foreigners a whole lot more like they would do in Laos. At times, they even give out extra foods free, just because they want people to taste their foods and just be happy. They aren't selling for money. They do take money. But if you pay extra high from the price they call, they decline. That's just the expression of these locals. No donations. No tips. No rip-offs. Thieves and robbers who come here stop being bad. They've come to learn the love of sharing. They also don't have much to spend on.



« Last Edit: July 03, 2020, 05:31:47 AM by Reporter »

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Re: Dear Morning Fog
« Reply #104 on: July 27, 2020, 02:02:43 PM »
Dear Morning Fog,

Our trip to you has been enduringly lengthy and I have left Bamboo Flower in Chiang Mai for too long. Now, she's thinking I've abandoned her. An email from her yesterday asked what may have been happening to us and why I haven't gone back to her.

The baby conceived in my love has already been born. It's a little girl, she tells me. She only knows how to cry and can't even giggle yet. So, she can't say things or tell Bamboo Flower what she wants. But her cries gets her way on anything. If it's too cold, her cry gets her a blanket. If she's hungry, her cry gets mommy's nipples. If she's hurt, her cry gets her medicine. But Bamboo Flower says that will change in time. Of course, I agree with that. I did start out that way, too--not speaking right away.

Bamboo Flower's mother came down from the hills over a two-day of walking to take care of the labor. She actually brought down five chickens to start Bamboo Flower's 30-day diet. So, she's well-cared for in my absence. But Bamboo Flower has two worries: 1. my safety, and 2. that I might have abandoned her.

But she doesn't quite yet understand is that so long as she hangs onto our new-born, she'll never lose me. Whether out-of-wed-lock or not, my biological little girl is my life. Even in death, I won't leave them. My spirit will be around them for eternity. So, I'm going back to them when I'm done with my mission.

Steaming Bell assures me he will help Bamboo Flower understand me more so that she won't be yelling at me when I get back to her and that he will make sure I return to her once I have helped him get you. So, there's a nice bargain going on here.

We've just left Nas Qhob on the songtheo. There's so much flying dust behind the car and our heads are turning brown. But the driver says we'll stop at a nearby stream to wash up before getting to Vinai.



« Last Edit: July 27, 2020, 02:05:32 PM by Reporter »

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"...
The snooping eye sees everything."--Ono No Komachi, Japanese Poetess (emphasis)

 

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