Thailand chapter is winding down...

Going 'home' is feeling more and more daunting. A few times, attempting to convince friends my life isn't perfect right now, I have gotten sucked into pity-parties thinking about my student loan-jobless-penniless existence post this adventure. Though this is usually appealingly bohemian, I apparently succeeded in depressing them, and myself. Point being, time in Thailand has been so ideal project-wise. I am moved to tears and joy and admiration on a daily basis. I'm luxuriating in amazing food, heat, massages and yoga.

I meet new people nearly every day and seem somehow blessed that most of these interactions feel truly authentic and teach me volumes. But in spite of this, or maybe because of it, I am left feeling a bit lonely. I am always the one asking questions, and although I have grown to genuinely really care for these vagina warriors, I worry few people really know me at all. I guess that's the off-shoot of both Anthropological fieldwork and this kind of activism; the self becomes more contained, dissolved into a cause that demands a sort of sacrifice that you give in bits and pieces till you don't realize how deeply you are immersed. Silly girl, that's what I wanted, to be a kind of vessel. Maybe I am just sad about leaving. I feel like I'm never doing enough. Tonight is the final rehearsal, and 30 women from Emergency Home will come see it pro-bono. I am so glad- I hope this helps bridge the gap sometimes created between glamour and professionalism and heart. I am so proud for all of them.

Elephant empathy

As I was cycling around Angkor Wat with my new friends Hannah and James, they kept bringing up Bangkok, ‘Oh, have you gone to the Palace?’ ‘There’s this bizarre forensic museum have you been to that? Or the park? Or the dildo shrine?’ Turns out, I’ve skipped the sights entirely while here. Instead what I’ve loved is the normalcy: regular haunts, daily yoga, nightly rehearsals, constant interviews and coffee, weekly massages, swimming pools, oh so much delicious food, hopping on and off the BTS, moto, BTS, moto… I’ve slipped up and started thinking of it as ‘living here’ as opposed to visiting or travelling, a distinction I strive to ignore. And it’s true that entering the tourist circus of Kao San was a shock to the system; though I learned important lessons about the joys of ‘buckets’ of booze, to never try to keep up with the Danish and the obscenely high degree of my tolerance to spice.

The whiskey fueled my dancing, but although it was a fantastic night out, more than that it fueled my anger. What will stay with me from that Saturday night is the baby elephant paraded through the streets packed with sunburned and drunken tourists. Turns out, baby elephants make the most pitiful squeak, and have to put up with belligerent fucks feeding them lit cigarettes and garbage. I realized, though I stayed fuming in my seat and throwing death glares, that I am most certainly capable of violence in the face of cruelty. This leads me to question again where pacifist compunction resides and how quickly it can be overwhelmed.

I have discovered a deep love for elephants and motorcycles and one of my lasting impressions of Bangkok will be breezing past trundling elephants with bicycle lights, cds, or reflecting tape flickering on their tails, as I sit expertly poised on the back of a moto, consciously pushing aside the reality of danger to enjoy the breeze, smells, vibrancy, and conflicting identities of this city.

Sorry it's been so long!

Hey friends, sorry I've been out of touch a bit had to do a visa run to Cambodia, so threw in a trip to Angkor Wat ruins and Phnom Penh for some VM research (THEY ARE EVERYWHERE!) and now everything's a blur of vagina madness. But here's how they decided to use my photos and interviews for the testimonies, thought you'd be interested, and more to come soon. Also, don't be alarmed that my blog's been 'flagged' for objectionable content, I find it amusing and their objections are objectionable in my opinion. Don't get too excited, the sex factor hasn't been amped up or anything fun like that. Huge all-cast rehearsal last night was invigorating- news channels were filming away and Bangkok is getting all a-flutter with the vagina spirit, or curiosity anyway.

As I was taking photos and buzzing around the room, one of the cast members snagged me, 'Did Alanna tell you?' I was thinking she was referring to something not yet checked off my to do list, and then she latches on to my eyes and says, ' this weekend I was held hostage and a man tried to rape me for hours' And just like that you're slapped by it, the wind is knocked out. These violent metaphors seem appropriate as that's exactly what it feels like, that's what it is- violence against anyone IS violence against all of us.

I hugged her. I said what I am supposed to say, but what does that really mean? 'What timing, what a coincidence don't you think? And I want to tell you about it, I want to talk about it.' I watched her the rest of the rehearsal, as she delivered the lines from the new Congo monologue about how the violence touches all of us, how it is present in what we do, and what we don't do. And I marvelled at her bravery to even be standing, much less part of this collective roar against violence. The VMs is good for my heart. As all this regular yoga is stretching muscles I had forgotten about and sweating out all this unnecessary junk, as do the Monologues. My heart feels like some kind of insane magnetic field with all these positives and negatives pushing apart, holding me together, making me hum with feeling and urgency and love.