Travel Bug Itch

Someone sent his greetings from the far away land of *ahem* Malaysia. I wanted to ask if 外国的月亮比较圆 (translated to be “is the moon really rounder overseas?”), very similar to the pasture on the other side being always greener. A little cheeky, because Malaysia is our neighbour, and was our master/brother.

Eeks, I suddenly started missing Mae Sot very deeply again. Mae Sot is the border town between Myanmar and Thailand where many make visa runs, and . Oh no, I cannot believe I started crying again. Home is where the heart is, and this place feels like home to me, more so than my actual hometown Singapore. On the physical plane, that is.

Why do I love it so much? This is the place where I feel tonnes and tonnes of Universal Love. This is the place where NGOs congregate to do their little parts for the underprivileged. This is where you see and feel big hearts, and you see and feel the camaraderie, in that wider larger purpose, one bigger than our own existence. This is an expatriate community of people who have committed years of their time, not just the usual flip-flop-and-go voluntourism venue. Maybe at some point, I will start putting up my old closeted posts from Storehouse days.

It is the place where everyone knows everyone. You just see the same old people on the streets, the main streets being only two! One in each direction. Even in the village of Noh Bo, expatriates live there, just like any other locals. Except maybe we have more mosquito nets, in fact, maybe a whole house sealed up in mosquito nets. The amount of commitment is amazing, many have amazingly and unknowingly lived there for half a decade or more. Time just flew past, and most also said they did not expect to live there that long at all.

I recall the days of blackouts, when we would all just walk back from a someone’s home back to GG. We recognise everyone’s dogs, and maybe pigs too? I recall running over to the orphanage to use their washing machine, as we could not make it back to city that certain weekend. I recall there were probably only two washing machines in the entire village? One being really a secret, because it is “embarrassing” to enjoy that “luxury”? I recall giving away bunches of bananas. And peanuts. And okras. And also feeding the hungry climbers who have hiked up and down the mountain in our backyard. With one exclaiming at my home-cooked Singapore curry chicken, “wow, do you get to eat meat here much? I haven’t had meat since I moved here weeks ago”. It was a rare occasion for us too, you helluva lucky dude.

Oh my, memories. I recall going to the neighbours with our local colleague, to give them reiki healing, because not everyone has access to medical treatment. I recall being so shy about it, almost wanting to keep this work underground. I gave away all the galangal tablets Dr Seb reminded me to bring and take there to keep my own system up and running.

I recall singing grace in the Karen language before every meal.

Oh my. I miss you so much. I will be back. I will be back to serve your community. I will be back to build up the livelihoods for you, members of the community.

Soon Soon. And time shall fly like crazy aeroplanes.

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