A Mitzvah on the Mekong

Written on December 15, 2007




































Take note: Lao San Phra Phum = Ho phi.. I just met Sivaly at her son’s Café’ Croissant d’Or We are to meet for an interview at 3pm Thursday.12-13.

Adequate rest is a wonderful thing. And I have to say that despite my extremely streamlined packing list, I didn’t agonize one bit over the decision to bring my beloved binky (my favorite pillow of which is affectionately named by Patti & me - “Binky Reeney Rooney”)…and it’s paying off big time too, not only with its luxurious and perfectly customized form fitted comfort, but most of all because it harkens back to divine moments of “pup pup” spooning with my dear one, whom I miss terribly.

I enjoyed my last couple of days in Bangkok relaxing with reflexology – foot massages and a final meeting with Satayaphorn before heading for one of the “promised lands” of the trip, Luang Prabang, Laos.

It’s always a little stressful attempting to meet up with a local Bangkok-ite? Bangkokonian? Bangkokese? Bankok a mundo? Whatever…Because no one lives anywhere close to Thewet (my neighborhood). So it’s quite a schlep getting around this sprawling township of a mere 10 million. Kind of reminds me of running errands up & down Manhattan Island. It’s damn tiring.






Making one’s way up and down the Chao Phraya River by taxi boat is best, and is usually the first leg of most commutes for me. It’s the only way to fly in Bangkok, as there are no traffic jams, at least on the water. There can definitely be a “people jam” on the boat though, and if you’re not careful, you can easily find yourself hanging on for dear life directly over the water - outside the guardrail at rush hour. I’ve found that in spite of the danger, you get the best view and freshest air out there if you can hang on..

This massive river runs southbound and dumps into the Gulf of Thailand just a few short miles downstream. The Chao Phraya is truly the backbone of this city’s vitality, and she’s offered up an abundance of it for a long, long time. There is so much activity and yet because of all of that flowing water, it always proves to be a stimulating yet pleasing atmosphere for me.

I didn’t want to be late again for this meeting but it was looking like it was going to be very close. I also noticed that my mobile phone battery was dangerously low as Sataytphorn was calling to change our meeting place. BUMMER!

I made it by the skin of my teeth where I was quickly whisked away in his Mercedes for a spontaneous lunch that we were invited to attend by a group of Thai women who were all airline attendants…

The body language and the swells and lulls of the sounds of a conversation and the candor of it’s laughter are easily deciphered in any language if you listen with all of your senses. This was definitely coffee klatch who was having a good time being together. They were generous with occasional explanations and updates about their conversation as I just sat there quietly, smiling, and very self conscious of just how to be and act politely in this very exotic social situation. I followed Satayatphorn’s every move and gesture that seemed applicable. I drank what he drank, I ate what he ate, I even slurped when he slurped his soup.

The social scene here in Asia seems very formal and elegant. I always find myself making note of what a social slob I’ve become as an adult when I’m here and vow like a new year’s resolution to take some of this social grace home with me and try to express it more towards all of those in my presence.

I find that Sayatphorn is now quite a bit more enthusiastic about my book idea and wants to collaborate with me. He has called on an artist friend of his that he claims is a “master painter” with a lot of qualifications to offer insight and direction on this project. He says that “there’s no time to beat around the bush!”

Okay! But watch it suckah, This is MY baby!

Later after making a date to get together after I return from Laos, Sayatyphorn lets me out at a really cool Siek spirit house for me to photo document.

Then I head home so I can soothe my self with another foot massage by Joop, my new massage lady of choice. She’s Autumn’s age and that makes me feel closer to home somehow. Joop is almost as good at massage as Autumn, but not quite.. The difference here though, is the foot thing in particular. It stands alone as a method and I don’t think this kind of treatment is available at home. After 20 minutes of soaking in a bucket of a warm “tea” made of salts, lemon grass, lime and who knows what else, I get another hour of reflexology and massage. Afterwards, I feel like my feet are two swaddled little babies at the ends of my legs. And after a long day of pacing back and forth across Bangkok….Oh man, my dogs are HAPPY!

Here is great photo of Rama V. He was the king back when Abe Lincoln was president. What they have in common is that they both abolished slavery in their respective countries at the same time. Rama V admired Lincoln so much that he wrote him a letter offering to send enough elephants to start a workforce for us in America as a remedy to the sudden lack of free labor.

I understand that Lincoln wrote him back with what seems to me like kind of a snobby reply. It sounded something like “Uh, Thanks anyway dude, but like we have this thing called the locomotive.”


Wouldn’t’ it be awesome if we had elephants like we do horses in America..I wouldn’t be sitting here writing right now writing this, I’d be home at my ranch “The Lazy Proboscis” doing me some elephant whisperin’… Right next door to “Patti’s Peanut Palace”.

I am really looking forward to going back to Surin to play with these sentient giant gray angels again.

But right now I am writing you from a little sidewalk café one of my favorite places in the world, Luang Prabang, Laos. The Lao coffee is like sugary milky mud and is so good and strong. It comes in a little drinking glass and then you chase it with another little drinking glass full of hot green tea.

Speaking of consumption. guess what my last dinner was in Bangkok after my foot massage?

I’ve grown quite fond of those fried caterpillars. Not only do I like the crunchy potato chip texture and salty chili taste but I especially enjoy the way that it always comes as a great shock to all the annoying tourists who constantly hover and gawk over the bug stands, that I’d actually buy and eat such a thing. But dammit, they’re good!

Joop appeared on her break for some of the delectables, as she likes the bigger and more substantial fat pupae larva looking ones..She insisted that I try some. They were quite a bit more complex, infused with ooey gooeyness, they offered up smoky hints of bamboo with a tangy mulberry finish. Not exactly my palette, but I can see where she’s coming from.

Not quite sated, I was attracted to the open street grill next to the bug stand. The meat looked as fresh as could be. I eyed the choices and settled on a skewer of chicken hearts…At least I think they were from a chicken? They did look kind of large..Hummm…I hope they weren’t from kittens or something like that…They did taste like chicken though..

You know when you’re in this kind of situation where you have to open your mind this wide, it’s always a good exercise to listen to inner voices that direct you to the right choices. And for some reason, my inner Ouigi pointed to those dang hearts on a stick. They’re not too bad either.

So that was my dinner… and following that culinary joyride through weird-land was a quick tuk tuk ride home in lieu of walking to spare my luxuriated peds.

Time to pack!

Packing for my maiden voyage takes some thinking and planning. “Light but thorough” is the idea. I’m so glad that I’ve had this time in Bangkok to settle in a bit and get more of a picture of my style of getting around.

I thought that my “carry on with too much camera gear in it” was an exorbitant amount of stuff when I was heaving it into the overhead of the plane, but actually, mostly all of it has turned out to be very useful. These are tools for best capturing a good photograph, and I’m finding that these tools are really necessary.

Things like a remote shutter release and a tripod for example or this fancy flash that can be adjusted to shed just a tiny weenie bit of fill light on the subject..

The only thing that I wish I’d have invested in would have been a super wide lens that would give the same fantastic close up and all encompassing view of people and the world around them..I had that lens on my trusty old Nikon film camera, it was a nikor 20mm that my pal Smiley Pool was nice enough to sell me. I loved that lens, it saw the world just like I did. Now with the way these digital cameras are set up 20mm doesn’t mean 20mm and it’s really hard to get a camera to see like that old one did anymore...

So I am doing the best that I can with what I have, which in spite of it all, is a super duper rig.

I was a really excited but also a little nervous flying into Luang prabang because I was about to get cut loose for the first time in Asia without my Patti there to consult with about the state of everything..After a while I know that I’ll settle into being alone just fine as I always have and enjoyed so much in the past, but this time being alone feels differently because now there is someone in my life that I really do love a lot. There’s never been a layer of intimacy like this integrated into my life or travels before. A loving partnership in life is a wonderful dimension that I’d wish on anyone. It’s bitter sweet being all by my lonesome here in the promised land but I know that she’s with me in spirit and not only that, as far as being here with me, she’s already done her best hotel finding magic here so I feel secure as my tuk tuk driver and I scan the streets looking for our old digs.


I equipped myself with a photograph of our Laotian landlord from two years ago, happily accepting a pair of boots from Autumn as a calling card. It was nice looking at the picture as Autumn’s beaming smile in the photograph gave evidence of her expansive experience of benevolence as she’s giving alms to the poor. Good on you Auttie!

After looking around the neighborhood for a while, I showed the photo to people on the streets. Being that it is such a small town really helped as people looked at the man accepting the boots and with a smile and a nod, pointed the way to my new-old home in this quaint little UNESCO world heritage site along the lazy Mekong river called Luang Prabang.

Ahhh, the vibe alone here is so sweet. I don’t know how high we are, but Luang Prabang is at some altitude. This little provincial town is nestled in a valley that at the base of a rather hilly and extremely verdant land. The dirt is a bright red foundation to the many colors of Bougainvillea and countless other strange flora and fauna that grow up and cascades down from everywhere in full blooming glory around here in mid December.

And then there is the French influenced architecture that is so charming to my western sensibility. Just the fact that it all predates Home Depot by at least a hundred years is enough…The rest is gravy and that gravy is a feast of eye candy to me.

I arrived at the Soutikone guesthouse, for which I’d totally forgotten the name. There was the land lady who’s sweet smiling face I did remember. I was looking for her husband to show the photograph to. The land lady’ “Ghe Chut”, who was his wife looked at the photo and started giggling so loud that her daughter emerged from behind a curtain behind the registrar desk, took one look and joined in the laughter. The husband who was the subject of the photo showed up and was far less animated about the whole thing and continues to show far less enthusiasm concerning my presence than the others. Maybe he didn’t like the boots so much after all?

There’s a mynah bird that lives here. And to most of the guest’s delight, it spends it’s day whistling and saying “sabadee” which means hello. I have also noticed that there are dogs running in packs together all over the place. They seem free to roam and play. They appear calm and cared for. None are ferocious and I hardly ever even hear them bark.

It is said that you can judge a people on how they treat their animals. Based on that, this a highly evolved community.

After settling into my room (creating the look that an explosion has happened t the contents of all of my luggage) I take note that it is a cool and gorgeous sunny day outside and realize that it might be time to go out and try to locate my friend “Link” Panyasouk who works with his brother at a place called “Big Brother Mouse” or BBM.

BBM is an NGO - non profit org. that was founded by Link’s big brother Khamla. They publish children’s books in Lao and English and now even the Hmong language and they distribute them to villages in Luang Prabang’s outlying areas by hosting a “book parties”, one village at a time after they collect enough for the next printing run etc.. from the tourist’s donations. They only started a year ago but are very popular in the community for doing what they are doing so they are growing very rapidly.

I met Link when Patti and Autumn and I were here two years ago. He was a novice monk and we built a classroom for him to teach English in…Am I repeating myself?

As my luck would have it, one of the two locations of BBM was literally at the end of the sidewalk that runs in front of my guesthouse. Unfortunately Link wasn’t there, but it turns out that he has a cell phone. A cell phone is a mandatory thing to have in Asia. I think it is literally what separates cave men from the other people..I even see the hill I am so glad that I brought one with me!

I purchased a “sim card” and began putting in calls to Link and text messaging Roger & Kristi who were still in Chaing Mai, Thailand and headed this way.

One of the great things about Luang Prabang (which translates as “big Buddha”) is that there are so many beautiful and active old Buddhist monasteries and stupas here. A really cool thing to do here in town is to get up before sunrise and go out to watch the hundreds of saffron robed monks accepting alms from the many devout followers along the streets on their knees who are doling out sticky rice and bananas to the long single file line of hungry recipients as they tread along lightly on bare feet.

I woke up yesterday really early to catch them with my camera. I went to the same spot that Autumn and Patti and I used to watch them from, which is from the balcony at Autumn’s old place over the street by the Mekong (next to where that cute little old grey haired –betel nut chomping lady lived..I just saw her yesterday and she’s doing fine)

I waited and waited out there as the dark of night turned to daylight. There are a lot of ladies who try to sell alms to the tourist for offering to the monks and one finally came and pointed to a street that was a block away and parallel to the one I was on…”Mong dere, mong dere!” Oh shit mon! I packed up my rig and ran to the other street only to catch the backs of the last monks about a hundred feet away as they had already passed by seconds ago..Drat! Pretty funny though…Yesterday, I took two naps..

This morning, I was ready and there must have been a lot of monks seeing spots as my flash was a firing away!

The name of this story is “If you want to make God laugh, just tell her your plans!”


Oh man, where shall I begin..This is a ton to process. Please accept my apologies, I’m a little slow on the uptake…

The other day I was just walking down the street and spied a“ Happy Chanukah” sign outside a building on the street alongside the Mekong. I thought to myself: “What in the hell is that all about?”

My first impression is that like the Lao are starting to promote a Christmas theme by wearing Santa hats while obviously not having a clue about what it is, I wondered if with all of the gillions of Israeli tourists someone got wise and joined in the Chanukah celebration to promote some business…

I walked up to the building and looked inside to see that it wasn’t that at all, it was a freakin’ Chabad House..right here in the middle of Laos on the freakin’ Mekong River!

In my disbelief, I peeked inside to explore and there was a Bema and a Hebrew library and all these Israelis milling around…How strange was this?!



Young Rabbi “Dov Marzel” approached me and introduced himself. I exclaimed my surprise that this place would be here..He smiled and then asked me if I was Jewish? “Yes” I said..”How so” he asks? “It’s in my blood” I answered…”What do you mean?” He asked. “It’s in my DNA” I tell him. He probed further..”What do you mean in your DNA?” “All of my family is Jewish, both of my parents, all of my grandparents and on and on..I’m a pure bred Jew boy” I say. Finally, he seemed satisfied and invited me further inside Chabad House -Laos.

The first thing I noticed other than the small crowd of young Israeli travelers milling about while waiting on a cheap and clean Jewish meal, were the two contemporary styled and sparkling white porcelain sinks with squirt bottles filled to the brim with plenty of imported antibacterial soap sitting there like the holy grail!

I introduced myself to ones who I sensed might be receptive to me. My first was Elle. He is an Israeli math teacher who vaguely reminded me of my pal & soul mate Mike Levin, but with really big teeth. Then there was another dude who had been crashed out on the couch for hours. when I asked him if he had a good nap, he complained of bad dreams from the west and that he couldn’t get them out of his system.

Jews are such a funny bunch of characters…

The Rabbi approached me and asked me about my experience as a Jew so I described my small Texas town version of Judaism to him.

Then, just out of the blue he asked me if I’d like to put on the tefillin. I said “sure!” I’d always wondered what those things are all about. I like the idea that they “get” the 3rd eye chakra idea enough to put a tiny Torah in a box over it.

So, here’s the thing about tefillin..You have these two little black cubes that measure about an inch in each direction. Both of them have a section of the Torah (or maybe the whole thing inside). There is a long black leather strap attached to each cube. You take one of the two cubes and bind it around your left arm and hand in a very special way that emulates specific Hebrew letters that spell out the word “God”.

The inside of the cube has a circle etched in its square face and that face is to be placed inside your left arm against the rib cage, aimed at the heart.

Then, you put the other one around your head, and the circle part of that cube’s face is aimed at the brain right through the 3rd eye of the forehead..Love that Pineal gland!

After being bound and bridled with these strange Jewish holy X-ray machines, I was told to recite a special prayer. I perceive that this is basically the Jewish version of a morning meditation while aiming the Books of Moses at “the two portions of the body that are most important, the heart, where feelings are, and the mind, where our thoughts come from.” I think that this is a sort of purification ritual that is thought to be so profound that when I was finished reciting these prayers after the Rabbi, he practically jumped for joy as all of the others in the house exclaimed “MOZELTOV!” Little did I know, I had just completed my Bar Mitzvah..

WHAT??!??!??!

A lady came over to me shaking my hand and congratulating me, telling me that she cried through the whole ceremony.

Really?!?!?!?!?

So, two evenings later, and awkwardly interspersed with commandeering my mission of hunting spirit houses with Link and interviewing Big Brother Mouse’s staff and writing their biographies, I find myself back at Chabad house for the second round of the Bar mitzvah ceremony.

About an hour and a half into the thing, I found myself mentally editing the written prayers in the prayer book that Dov handed me just to make it palatable to my own personal philosophy. First I substituted the word “God” and “King of King” etc.. with “the mind”, and then as a prayer I just tried to clear my mind with meditation trying to focus on a feeling of compassion for all living things. That helps me get through a text that is in my opinion a little on the exclusive side….

I needed to clear my mind anyway because I felt that I needed to ask my self a very deep question, and that question is why am I here doing this?

I explored this thought until I arrived at this: A big part of most peoples travel to Asia is about being exposed to places with a lot of indigenous tribal life. It is so novel and exotic for us to experience people steeped so deeply in their own special cultures and rituals. I think that we human beings are basically tribal in nature. As westerners we are missing this ancient way of being in a big way as we have sold off connections to our own true nature for what we believe to be a better and more convenient life.

We might come from a boiling pot of many different ethnic cultures in America, but I’d say that at best, most have been watered down to a pretty homogenized soul-less state, thanks to a reckless abandon for “the American dream”.

Like the Hmong, Karen, Khmer, Lao and other indigenous people around Southeast Asia that I have been lucky enough to be in the presence of again; I suddenly realize right here in the Chabad House, adjacent to the mighty Mekong River that I am actually having the unique experience of being with my own tribe. The ancient tribe of Israel. I’m looking around and not only do I realize that we have our own “Spirit house” which is where the Torah is placed, but I see all of these people wearing funny looking clothes and hats and shawls and watching their every move that seems signified with some ritualistic meaning and I find this behavior curiously similar to these local Asian hill tribes and probably all others for that matter.

I submit that a tribal mentality is a universal paradigm and we as human beings long to be part of a whole in some way in order to be happy, as we really are social beings, no matter how individualistic or self sufficient we may pride ourselves in thinking that we are.

Because of my blood line, I have been accepted by the people of this community with open arms, and beyond that they have gone to the extent of almost instantly initiating me as one of the elder members of their/our tribe…

Being that this is happening on the Sabbath, I am deeply honored and yet simultaneously, wishing that I felt a deeper allegiance to the whole process, noting to myself that I had just finished eating a really yummy pork chop off the street an hour ago.

Until now, I had never seen inside of a Torah, and I must say that the craftsmanship is stunning. The hand written calligraphy of the Torah is so impeccably penned onto parchment by a person that I was told is called a “Sofer” that you have to wonder if they ever make a mistake.

I remember when Judaism was more interesting to me back in the late 90’s, I went looking for a Torah shop on the Lower East side of Manhattan for these “Sofer” guys. I was in pursuit of some knowledge of all of this but for some reason, I can’t remember why, or what I was interested in…… Oh well…That was a pretty cool experience just looking for the shop. The calligrapher that I was looking for was gone because there had been a death in his family, so I ended up hanging out and chatting with the owner of the Motzoh factory next door instead.

Rabbi Dov’s nebbish and moist handed brother in law, who was also Hassidic (in full black suit & big brimmed hat garb) was assisting Dov with the services. These Hasid’s read and mumble in Hebrew really fast and do this rocking motion back and forth called dovining. I tried the dovining and it found that that motion relieves my lower back when I have to stand for a long time..Nice!

I was called to the Torah to read from it because I am a man now. The young brother in law was standing beside me. His job was to guide me along the holy text with his delicate and skinny little pointed finger. As he faithfully recited the book of Moses, all I could think was:

“Dude, a tic tac wouldn’t kill ya”.

Rabbi Dov would then give me a queue, I was to repeat after him, word for word in Hebrew, special prayers from the Torah. I was amazed how easily these really complex guttural sounds came from my mouth. I guess my lips are genetically predisposed for gurgling Jewish sounds..

Like a shot gun Bar mitzvah. This event could be compared to a “drive-in Las Vegas marriage ceremony. It seems so strange and immediate but all rituals were apparently in place and in that, it is real. A makeshift bare boned jungle version of what takes others at least a year to accomplish. This certainly satisfies me as a lover of immediate gratification. The only thing missing was someone giving me a fountain pen…

I feel like I’ve received an honorary degree. I am now initiated as a Jewish male and can now help complete a minion in an Orthodox Jewish temple. Whoa!

I may be the only Livingston Male to ever have received this credential. Unfortunately I am the last Mohican of the Livingston namesake…Slow start - strong finish!

The celebration consisted of a very spirited kind of “men only” dancing around, clapping singing “ya ya ya “and then shouting yeah! Then the Rabbi busted out his secret stash of Johnny walker and poured it liberally throughout the minion followed by a happy mozeltov lachiem toast to my new manhood. Gambei!

Somehow, I get the feeling that this kind of thing just doesn’t happen every day..

Then dinner was served buffet style.

Man these Israeli’s pile on the food….I exclaimed to my new friend in line, Man, we Jews can eat can’t we?..To which he replied….”We don’t drink.”

Life is a circuitous road isn’t it?