Chapters 7-10 -- Vipassana meditation, Bangkok (part II), the Andaman Coast, Ko Pha Ngan and the Laughing for Life Circus

Due to a variety of factors, I have been unable to find the time and energy to craft comprehensive stories recounting my remaining experiences in Thailand. Had they been written, they would comprise chapters 7-10 of this blog. Most exist in the form of notes and partially-drafted entries. With any luck, they will be fleshed out into full-blown tales sometime in the not-so-distant future. For now, I am providing a highly abbreviated summary (the "30,000 foot overview") of the adventures. Readers can also peruse my complete Thailand photo album to get a sense of my environs and companions during these months.

After leaving Chiang Mai for the last time, I spent 10 days in a silent meditation retreat near the city of Phitsanulok. It proved to be an intense ordeal which almost drove me to the edge of madness but ended up infusing me with a calm, quiet, clear and joyous spirit. With my release from meditation boot camp, I rode a wave of inner bliss and contentment which endured for several weeks. I returned to Bangkok in the midst of celebrations honoring the King's 80th birthday and managed to catch a glimpse of this living demigod while his motorcade rolled past throngs of delirious cheering Thais.

In mid-December, my friend Monty (from San Francisco) arrived and we joined forces for a week of travel to the infamous Phi Phi island and the insanely beautiful Railay beach. I indulged in a fair bit of scuba diving at some of the best reefs in Thailand (achieving advanced certification on my birthday), bonded with fire spinners, drank a few beers, watched rock climbers scamper up steep limestone cliffs, and managed to reach new depths of relaxation. I then spent a few days visiting a friend in Khao Lak, a resort town on the Andaman sea which was devastated by the 2004 tsunami, and attended a made-for-television extravaganza honoring the victims of that disaster. After a quick stop in Ranong, and an afternoon "visa run" into Burma, I hightailed it to the island of Ko Samui to give a lucrative New Year's Eve fire performance in front of a subdued crowd at a swanky 5-star resort. When the show was over, I caught a late speedboat ride to the nearby island of Ko Pha Ngan and arrived at the beach of Had Tien in time to join an all-night New Year's rave party.

January was devoted to the Laughing for Life circus. For the first two weeks, a crew of talented international performers (from Sweden, Spain, Canada, Japan, Thailand and San Francisco) gathered at Had Tien to plan for the tour, practice routines, and put on several benefit shows at local venues. Convening at this special beach proved fortuitous. It is a remarkable haven populated by spiritual seekers, new age devotees, lovable eccentrics, shamanic healers, ashtanga junkies and a seemingly endless supply of yoga classes, spirulina balls, coconut shakes and stunning ocean views. The circus shows came together beautifully and our repeated public appearances turned us into minor celebrities. Then the real work began as we departed from paradise and ventured to the northern reaches of the country to spread joy and wonderment to remote villages rarely visited by foreigners. Over the course of two weeks, our troupe did 10 days of shows and workshops with most of the remaining "free" days devoted to travel, causing me to refer to the grueling schedule as a 'sprint-a-thon'. The children benefiting from of our efforts were from various Hill Tribes (specifically the Akha and Mien) and the Karen people (Burmese migrants living quasi-legally at the fringes of Thai society). We taught circus skills during the day and performed a kick-ass fire show at night for the entire community. The children were enthusiastic, bursting with smiles and eager to play with our curious band of merry pranksters (see my photos for some examples). We slept on floors, packed ridiculous amounts of gear and people into the back of a truck (true to circus form), performed on dodgy stages with minimal equipment, got mad at each other, fell in love with each other, and felt perpetually sleep deprived. I cycled through every conceivable emotional state each day. My face began to hurt from smiling and laughing so much and I was tempted to adopt a few of these love-starved young souls. The experience was intense, draining, exhilarating and totally worthwhile.

At the conclusion of the circus, I returned to Bangkok for a week of decompression and civilized pleasures but found myself desiring a more tranquil and nurturing environment. So I traversed the rails, roads, and seas to make another pilgrimage to Had Tien for two glorious weeks of bliss-filled socializing, soul-searching, and peaceful meditation. A number of circus folks also materialized and we continued to revel in our evolving communal bond. There was plenty of fire play, lingering over savory meals, deep discussions about the meaning of life, and a few genuinely profound observations about the necessary conditions to achieve sustainable happiness. My heart chakra opened even wider, my aura was cleansed, and I felt completely loved and accepted by a community of long-term foreigner residents inhabiting this beach who call themselves "the family". On my final night, I performed original songs to a large crowd at the local new age resort (called "The Sanctuary") then spun fire for hours while friends sat around a bonfire doing yoga chants and the full moon passed overhead, lighting the entire cove with brilliant, sacred light. It was a fitting end to my time in Thailand.

The inner tranquility and heart-centered existence which characterized the last months in Thailand gave way to a radically different (sur)reality. This is a good thing. I recognize that every day presents me with opportunities to learn from others and practice the techniques necessary for sustainable happiness. Exploring these notions while laying on a beach is one thing. Putting them into practice while traveling through India is a far better test of whether, and how much, I'm actually learning about myself.