Mr Elbow and Friends: Impermanence

What felt like a long journey of massage study was suddenly well into week three and four of five, and already flying toward the end of my time in Thailand. Week three brought medicine balls, massaging with fresh herbal compresses and a massages on the elderly.  I had two lovely elderly woman four an hour each, as we did a mash up of our routine for them, that best suited their bodies.  I can say that Thai elderly in general, are spry, tough and well younger than their bodies put them.  They want more pressure than you expect, and tend to be a bunch of characters to boot.  My comrades, who have only become closer as our time continues, play the roles of so many friends combined into a few.  Big Trunk and Little Trunk, my comedic Australian brotherly duo, regularly are there to keep everything light. ( More Power Always) is giggly and sincere. (Snail) feels like a sister to me, thinks a lot like me, and farmer nick remains my hippy brethren and tour guide to the city of Chiang Mai, providing tips and driving me to the hospital when my foot got infected and ballooned twice its size.

Oh I forgot to tell you my foot got infected on a magical trip to the mountain town of Pai, a beautiful hippy oasis full of music, huts by a river, alcohol, drugs and as much street food as you can dream of with a dozen waterfalls within a mopeds ride away, classic. I ventured to this hill town with an oddball collection of friends, a hilarious English school teachers, a few funny american digital nomads, a lovely nomadic German and we then befriended an Australian and another American immediately, who while on shrooms let us stay in there bungalows with them as the place was booked. We became a tight crew, and hung with some other Chiang Mai friends from the healing house, just happened to be up there the same weekend and a huts throw away from us. We drank, sang songs, told stories, people beat boxed and all under a full sky of stars reflecting on the meandering country river rolling by.

 Life in Thailand works so smoothly, in a beautiful haphazard sense.  Everything feels close, good food, good people and beauty all just within reach, so everything is so disorganized, and never runs on time.  I could imagine easily settling into Chiang Mai and staying for years, dangerously comfy.  I also spent a weekend with my dear Australian friend, her Canadian boyfriend, her brother, a cute astrophysicist and some of their friends at an eco lodge in the mountains, a collection of huts located in the hill tribes between Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai.  We road there in the back of a pickup truck the few hour trek from Chiang Mai, beautifully hung over, the wind in our hair, and the proceeded to hike a few miles up a steep path that they regularly ride motorcycles up and down, and that we can barely walk due to steepness.  We are rewarded with beers and incredible view of the hills, a delicious vegetarian meal and a fire as the sun sets, life is goddamn beautiful. There is also a feeling of absolute importance, for every ounce of what feels so solid, I am painfully aware of time slipping through my grasp, experiences i'd love to last years flying by in the days that I had planned. Travel time is like this, it feels infinite and finite, year's worth of experience packed into fleeting days. I mediate but am regularly sad with the impermanence of it all, but must always bring myself back to the present moment, a cup of tea with my classmates, another delicious vegetarian Pad Thai, the laughter of friends, good live Jazz, moped rides with a cute girl, I have few complaints.

Mr Elbow and Friends Happy hour

Week two is about everything you would expect of a pretty rigorous massage school, including sore knees sore wrists sore backs from so much you and too much massage. We started learning teir two, which included another 100 or so positions to the near 200 we already had. On the plus side, our class laughs and jokes regularly and the Thai teachers who cycle through our class say we are there favorites, though they may secretly hate us it's hard to tell because they are so gosh darn polite. Needless to say the education is top knotch and we are learning so much, and eating about the best food on earth. Eating vegetarian or vegan in Thailand is so easy compared to most of the world, with curries and soups and noodles all based out of veggies, coconut milk, non gluten noodles and all the spices you could ask for. 

Across the street from our school there is a marked where we can get an incredible vegetarian meal, with rice for two dollars, I'm in heaven.  Post class after I've had a solid nap to recover from a strenuous day of learning, kneeling and lying down in repetition, by the way this is harder than you think as every time you lie down to get a massage and then have to get up after and be a human being, your whipped. Most evenings I find myself with the massage crew or a few other teacher friends I met in my wanderings at a sweet Jazz club called Northgate Jazz, or one of the sweet little restaurant, many of which are vegetarian as well. Nights seem to fly by and along with the help of an old Australian friend from my time in Oz and her Canadian boyfriend, I discover all the hip spots in town populated by a mix of lovely Thai folks and an international hodgepodge of digital nomads and teachers. 

Every Friday night we head to my friend Binky's house, aka the healing house. This is where there is one of the best weekly open mic nights I've ever experienced. I say this not because I have not been to incredible talent open mic nights and many terrible ones, but because of the heart of the place. Healing house is indeed a healing house, a place where people come to share, play, grieve and perform. Poetry, music, story telling, classically trained musicians to people that only played in there bed rooms, poets to story tellers and even a roadside philosopher.  Everyone comes with an open mind and a heart to support whoever gets up to do whatever.  This is the kind of place every community needs, a place to come and share.  As week two spills into week three, i have my smoothie stand with a lovely woman who already knows my orders and laughs and she makes them, a collection of awesome teachers, artists, coders and digital nomads with which to paint the town red with, and my massage crew, who daily join me on our rigorous adventure down Thai massage lane.  I am blessed to be here, blessed to fall in love with this sweet little city, and the beautiful nomads and locals that call it home.

A New World of Massage

To begin describing my five-week Thai massage training at the TMC Massage School, I want to start by talking about massage as a language.  Now, my dyslexic mind has always struggled with languages. I love traveling and communicating with others, but get frustrated with languages because they don't come naturally to me.  Even English does not make logical sense to me; between the rules that constitute it and the comprehension of it, the wires of my brain get crossed and explode.

Massage, however, makes sense: it feels like a conversation with muscles and is literally hands-on.  You touch the muscles and they respond with their story. Some are tense and others are not, and you make can compare them to each other to see which ones need the most work. The more you speak with the muscles, the more you sharpen your ability to communicate with them. Just like learning a language, you start to have far more complex conversations as your sense of feeling grows.

I first noticed how learning massage was like learning a language when I was in Swedish massage school. You start with basic words. Then you learn grammar, sentence structure, and how to pronounce things correctly. Next, you move on to creating basic sentences.  Later you start to try to carry out basic conversation: this builds in complexity and understanding. Massage felt very much like this, except words and sentences were replaced with muscle density, tension density, the feeling of skin, the lines of the body, and the breath of the person. The building blocks of the language of massage came together to create one detailed conversation. Instead of conversing in my fluent language of Swedish massage, I felt like I was starting from scratch with learning the foreign language of Thai massage. I knew from the start that it was a completely different creature.

Thai massage dates back thousands of years, and was passed on through generations of monks through scriptures. It originated from both China and India, but became something different over the generations.  A lot of it works along Energy lines called "Sen Sip", which shares similarities to Indian shakra's "Chinese Meridians", but is still very different. There are 10 of these lines and they originate above the navel and spread throughout the body.  Blockages to these are considered blockages of "wind energy" and are believed to lead to sickness.

Thai massage itself separated into two branches: Thai Royal and Thai Common Massage.  Thai Royal was practiced originally on royalty; it involves many movements, proper alignment, and modesty of body.  Thai Common was that of the commoners; typically practiced by family members and friends working on each other after a hard day of work.  Thai common uses far fewer positions than Royal and is more freeflow. It is also considered to be less modest due to the closeness and positions of the bodies of the giver and receivers. In Thai massage, it is more common for the receiver to wear full clothing. The massage is performed on mats on the ground rather than on a massage table.  Thai massage requires that the receiver remains loose, so it involves a lot of stretching. It tends to be more vigorous compared to Swedish, which involves less body movement.

The "Modern Thai Massage Movement" was revived through help of Thai government in the late 1970, early 80's thanks to schools such as TMC. This movement began after years of Thai massage receiving a more nefarious reputation due to its association with use in the sex trade in the 1950 and 60's. Even today when I would telling friends I was going to Thailand to learn Thai massage, the person would sometimes respond with a sex joke. Many people don't realize that Thai massage has a vast history and deep ties to ancient medicine.

Week 1 began a mere four days after I arrived, exhausted and bleary eyed. My class consisted of some of the most beautiful people the world has to offer.  It is true that mostly people of good heart and intention study how to help people heal their bodies, and these people proved no different.  They consisted of two Aussie gents, three Americans ladies, a British guy, a Swiss gent living in Thailand, and a Swiss woman who joined us for our last few weeks.  There were around 20-30 other students completing both shorter and longer programs, but I will concentrate on my class.  You bond quickly when you are learning hundreds of different positions and bending each other in sometimes awkward directions, and with a lot of laughter we became a tight crew along with whatever lovely female Thai teacher that was stuck with us each day.  Week 1 was all about learning properness of body and hands through a series of well over 150 positions.  The struggle was real, and we left each day feeling rather exhausted and sore, both in mind and body.

This was the 150 hour Thai Intensive training, and it indeed was that. My hands hurt, my knees hurt, my back hurt. I told them early on that I had weak wrists and thumbs and preferred elbows, and quickly received the nickname among my classmates and teachers as "Mr. Elbow". Those that know me know I like to joke and am kind of loud (which might be an understatement). I was joined by two of the biggest loudest jokers possible: two Australian body building brothers that looked like what statues of Greek gods wished they could look like. Over the course of five weeks, they would lovingly earn the nicknames of Big Trunk and Little Trunk, due to the size of their core bodies, not the size of something else. The rest of our class, though quieter but no less funny and quirky, earned nicknames as well. The two American woman earned the nicknames of Snail (because of the snail tattoo she got in Thailand), and MPA (More Power Always, because holy shit, could you never give her enough pressure).  Completing this group was the Swiss gent, who became known as Farmer Nick due to his plans of starting an organic farm in Thailand with his Thai partner Peace (classic hippie stuff).  Together, these clowns would become the guests of the Mr. Elbow Show. Stay tuned for the next episode-- Week Two: Mr. Elbow and friends learn real suffering.

Stage 1 to Stage 2

I hit London to the comforting home of my friends Alex and Stephanie (a Brit and a Canadian respectively). Alex and I also worked Theatrino together, and has sense married his partner in crime Stephanie, they offered me all the beautiful comforts of home I had craved sense sleeping in a field for the last week, a home cooked meal and much laughter.  My last day in England I smashed by having Dinner with Lousia, another lovable dear heart Vermonter from our highschool days of old, and followed that with drinks with my equally olden time theater friends Anie and Dan.  It could not have been any better, than to also be joined by rediculous crazy artist camp friend by the name of Jake, and his girlfriend Katie.  Jake is among the most silly human beings I have ever met, and I mean that as the highest of compliments. Sitting side by side at drinks with them, Aine and Dan across from me, this beautiful bridge of different wonderful humans from different wakes of life that I am lucky to know. Not to mention the list of other beautiful English, Scotts, and Irish folks I did not manage to see on this trip, I look forward to seeing you next time around as this time and funds were so short.

Jake and Katie drove me to the airport in the later hours of the night, and bid me farewell as I prepared for what would be a 50ish hour journey to arrive in Chaing Mai, Thailand. Midway between the three flights, trains, taxi's and buses that would carry me to my new destination, I could not believe that like that stage 1 of this epic little journey had ended.  This was a step all about re-connection, not only to people that I had longed to see, but also to a part of myself I had not seen in a long time.  Travel self is so much freer of all restraints, and in seeing yourself so free you really know the boundlessness of what you are capable off.  It is also exhausting, gross, uncomfortable and down right gritty, which keeps ones honest and grounded in the process.

I arrived in Chaing Mai Via:
7 hour layover in London
3 hour flight to Croatia
2 hour layover in Croatia
2 hour flight to Ukraine
6 hour layover in Ukraine
10 hour flight to Bankok
6 hour layover in Bankok
12 1/2 hour bus to Chaing Mia.

I stumbled dirty and exhausted into my home for the next month and a half, decimated by such long travel, by heart thriving with the thrill of it all. I would jump between guest houses, but spend a month of my time at Giant Guest House in the North Corner of old Chiang Mai.  This adorable hippie house was perfectly situated close to all the yummiest restaurants, temples and bars at a price of just over a $100 dollars for the month, well all right then.


I have dreamt of Chaing Mai sense I came to the Monastery here that helped change my life perspective, and the seed of studying here started there. Here I was about to study Thai massage for five weeks with the help of the amazing community at home that got me here.

Around England in 80... I mean 12 days

My trip to England was really one to visit old friends. I had twelve days and was attempting a Jules Verne esque around the world in 80 days type venture (seeing as many friends as humanly possible in the country while on a very short budget).  By the way all the Jules Verne thoughts come from the fact the latest book I picked up was "Around the World in 80 days", which works as it's so damn English, and is a lovely classic if you can get over the inherent racism of the late 18, early 1900's in it.  I proceeded to Travel across England, from Weymouth on the Southern Coast, to Stoke on Trent in the Mid-West, To Birmingham to Liverpool and back to London.  For anyone who has traveled to England recently, the country has not really gotten much cheaper, with train tickets being exorbitant unless you manage to snag a quick deal.

Regardless, the price was well worth the incredible human beings I was attempting to see. I started by seeing my dear English sister Emily down on the southern coast, (we had not seen each other for about 7 years sense we toured together in Theatrino in Italy). She still remains a most incredible, lovely spazio of a human, who delights as she does what she is meant to do, teaching grade school children. We hiked and giggled, laughed and made faces and reminded each other that we would not go so long without spending time together.

I then trained up and across to Stoke upon Trent, to see my delightful highschool theater friend and gem of a human Erin, with a very pregnant belly and an equally delightful English hubby Steve.  We hiked what is called The Roches, a stunning rock formation with 360 views in traditional sunny, rainy English weather, ate incredible Chinese food (Erin and Steve know, sense they both lived in China), and they broke me down and convinced me to watch the latest season of Game Of Thrones.  These true heart buddy dorks, near and dear to my heart were so good to see, even though our time was so short.  I look forward to whatever delightful demon spawn they bring upon the world, and to see what that awesome child will grow up to be. From here my trip diverged as I went to meet my buddy Chris, another Theatrino friend from Italy.  He had come to visit me a few times during his American adventures, but now was such a cool time for me to come visit him, as it was to help him with his newest Charity he started with friends not to long ago, FORWRD.

What they do is collect tents, sleeping bags, chairs and clothes left at music festivals and send them the refugee camps.  I spent the next few days working all day in the few stupidly hot English days that exhist in a year. I raced bulldozers to collect tents along side some of the most incredible volunteers from all wakes of life.  I was brought to tears and felt distraught with the human experience, as I watched such blatant mindless waste left by mindless unconnected young folks get bulldozed by money greedy mindless older folks.  At the same time I marveled and was lifted by the incredible work of my friend Chris, and the other coordinators and volunteers that worked relentlessly to gather survival materials for those without the most basic accommodations.  My funds low, I followed this humanitarian salvage mission by joining Chris to work a clothing stand at a Trance Music festival called Creamfield's, were we partied hearty with a lovely group of blokes, body painters, soccer players and trippie sun glass wearers.  Exhausted, dirty and full hearted yes empty drained I hugged my buddy Chris, who is a beautiful person of a human through and through goodbye, grabbed a selfie at the train station with my theater camp buddy Dave and ventured on to London to say goodbye to dear old England.

P to the A to the R I S, to B to the Ar-celona

I spent the better part of five days wandering picturesque Paris, while many Parisian's were on holiday, I wandered the streets, ate the bread, drank the coffee and wine and soaked in the feel of why the world goes to Paris.  Despite the recent attacks on the city within the year, Paris maintains that feeling of love, wine, food and cigarettes as the sun sets. My friend Emily reminded me, nothing will stop Parisian's from enjoying themselves. I spent a day at the Louve, I had never visited before, and I mainly wanted to wisk by the Mona Lisa and hang with all the 17th and 18th century Italian and Spanish painters, and also steep myself in art of the Italian Renaissance which always tickles me.  Paintings as tall and as long as small houses, with characters, gods and demons swirling all around shows such a dedication to the creation of something so much bigger than ones self.  Art of such scale tells incredible stories, not only in what is being depicted but also in what the artist was trying to attain, also talk about dedication.

A mere six hours at the museum was only a taste of what they had to offer.  If you have ever been to the Louve you understand, if you have not, go in off season or else you might drown in tourists, it was crowded for an off season day. Emily and I spent a beautiful hung over morning in one of the most famous graveyards in Paris, that is home to Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Moliere, and many other sweet famous folks, and is also vast and hauntingly beautiful.  We met up with an old Vermont Friend Juan, drank to much wine on canals and rolled Patanque (French Bocci Ball) with lovely strangers from across the world. Emily and I also spent a day in the strangest park I have ever visited, which was a left to the wilds, and is a turn of the 1900 century exhibition of the colonies of the French Empire. Each now derelict building represented a different country, and they even flew in families from the countries to live there during the actually exhibition at the time, crazy.  Also before I knew it I found myself saying goodbye to Emily and all the lovely ones of Paris and was en-route on another overnight bus to Barcelona.

I have never visited Spain, do not speak Spanish, however I have dreamed for years of the food, the winding streets and ancient churches.  I rolled up in the early morning when the city was most definitely not awake (Dinner does not usually start until at earliest 9pm, and you party until the sun comes up).  I spent my time in Barcelona with an old childhood friend Sam, that had relocated to Barcelona, and was killing it doing online web design, photography and food blogging as well as an occasional food tour. I could not have wished for a better reconnect with an old friend over delicious food and drink, or a better guide.  Every day we ate different Tapa, fish or yummy dish of Barcelona, and I died with all the goodness.  I spent the better part of the evenings at the block festival going on in the neighborhoods north of the center, were every block decorate there street to the nine's in themed reused materials, from Star Wars to Jules Verne.  We danced and partied until the early light until I collapsed exhausted and extremely happy.  Travel is an absolute beautiful heart/mind screw. You soak up different places, languages, foods and people and fall in love with all the differences and similarities of the human experience, only to realize that you can only just taste them all a bite.

There is not enough years in a life to bury yourself within each culture, especially when traveling quickly.  Sam and I spent one of my last days hiking up to the fort that overlooks the city, taking photographs and marveling at the different in perspective even a hike up a hill can have of a place.  life moves with a sad beauty that blows me a way, and within a few days I was off again flying to an place I have crossed many times but not seen for years, ye old England.

Hamburg to Paris

I arrived in Hamburg to the company of an old friend from Germany named Vanessa, who has also been a pen pal of mime for years. She has far better English than I, and speaks with an Australian accent so it indeed felt a bit like Australian home in Hamburg.  She made some delicious meals and I got to meet her boyfriend and a slew of her smart, hilarious German friends who made me feel the most welcome. We spent a few super relaxed days wandering Hamburg, complete with Ferry rides, beers on the beach, The world's largest Train set world and tiny world. Seriously, it's like three floors, complete with an airport, planes flying in and out and day turning to night, with the most famous cities in the world and at least a million miniatures. It's a dorks paradise and so worth a visit if you ever stumble through Hamburg.

 I love having people who love there homes show them to me, it comes from such a different place, and Vanessa loves her Hamburg, so she was a perfect guide to have for my few short days there.  In the evening we ate yummy home cooked food, drank wine and talked about the million and one things that had happened sense we last saw each other. Travel time is such a stranger faster thing than stationary time. Russia felt like a million years worth of experience, and before I could blink I was leaving my wonderful Australian/German mum and the lovely crew of Hamburg on a 14 hour overnight bus ride to Paris.

Let me tell you a thing or if you have ever done a number of long overnight buses, all and all they are not bad.  Time moves quickly if you can sleep anywhere like I can and It cost me 9 euros, I could not complain. The company was called minibus, it was clean and decent and had a phone charger, I was golden.  I sped through the night dozing and Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, a book on Buddhism and Wild a nice trifecta of interesting to dabble between.  My goal is to read two books a month, as of this point I had only finished a small collection of Yates, but I finished Wild around 7 in the morning as the sun was coming up on the rolling hills of the french countryside. It was such a good story of travel, for those who have not read it, its an incredible story of a woman getting over death and hiking the ACT. It is more a story about managing and surviving when life is hard, I loved that.  I have been thinking over my travels how much sometimes its just about getting through difficult things, we don't have to do them well, hell we can do them poorly, but as long as we are honest and mindful, we will learn and draw alot from it.

I stumbled into mid day Paris, tired, smelly, but so excited to be re-united with the one the only Emily Freeman.  For those of you who do not know this rock star of a human, she is my sista from another mista, a dear friend, Vermonter and NEYT groupie from days of old.  She is also a wine lover, incredible cook, and silly human being.  She is among those folks I can talk about anything in the world too.  We met with friends of hers in a lovely little french cafe, and what promised to be a chill night, turned into most likely the only french Cafe late night Coolio dance party happening in Paris. Drinking wine and smoking cigarettes on the streets at 2 am, wearing a red clown nose with Gangsters Paradise on repeat for the fourth time that evening, Welcome to Paris ya god damn clown.

St Petersburg and the Clowns to Moscow and away

After the close experience of Maria's Children Summer camp, I embarked to the majestic city of Saint Petersburg, formerly Lenningrad.  This city was rebuilt after WW2 all in the same style, with beautiful facades all lit up at night, large canals to walk along and stunning Roman Orthodox churches, which Russia is famous for.  I joined a large group of clowns all going to clown in the children's wards of hospitals, Lead by the lovely Anya, one of Maria's five daughters, all of whom are very involved with Maria's Children.

 This group was made up of: 15 American students and teachers from a college in Virginia, all doing a humanitarian mini mester abroad, a few other Russian clowns from Maria's Children, a French Canadian clown named Guillaume, a Portuguese clown named Joana (I name these two because the three of us as the rag tag members became quite close).  We all took the overnight to St. Petersburg, and embarked on a five day clown/food/adventure fest. During the day we dressed in our clown garb and went to a hospital a day, usually for around 1 1/12hrs.  They ranged from the parks outside hospitals to wards with children bed ridden, and all we really were doing was playing.  Playing with the kids, there parents and families.  Imagine being a parent and having a child confined to a hospital for weeks, months at a time.  We were the laughter distraction, the clown halftime show, and you can see the beautiful power of a laugh when it is on a kid that has not had many of late.  We would mime, and run around and giggle and hide, be as silly as we could.  Push around kids in wheel chairs, make faces with kids confined to bed, and generally just be a bunch of clowns.  You could hear laughter up and down the halls, from the floors below and above, in halls that generally laughter does not live.

We would leave these places sweaty and happy, astonished on what a gift of a few hours of silliness would be,  and spend our evenings strolling the streets, eating incredible food, most of which was Georgian, and drinking wine and beer.  Georgian food is like Eastern European comfort food, breads filled with egg and cheese, spinach and mushroom pate, and big dishes filled with roasted veggies, potato's and meats, easily some of the best food I have ever eaten.  I also had time to go check out the Hermatige Museum, one of the worlds largest, a collection of 30 Palaces holding Rembrants, Da Vinci's and Michelangelo's, Thousands of years of art, which we wandered for hours.  Despite warnings put out by the American Embassy that we were out during the high violence times of Russian Airforce and Naval celebration days, we met no hostility, and were generally met with open arms. We celebrated at a bar called the New Years Club, were every night at 12 they celebrate Russian style new years, champagne is passed and everyone wears bunny ears.  The time here was still so surrounded by a wave of magic, and as it came to an end there were even more hugs and tears of goodbye.  Anya, Guillaume, Joana and I said goodbye the group and we all headed back to Moscow, where we spent the next couple of days hanging out with Olga (another daughter of Maria) and her boyfriend Martin (a Maria's children volunteer).  They introduced me to new friends and took me to The Garage a peculiar yet awesome modern museum in Moscow.  Following more Georgian food my final night in the city, more lovely goodbyes and waves as I departed For Germany Via Istanbul to visit my friend Vanessa.

That all of this, was encompassed in less than three weeks is mind blowing.  I have always struggled with the concept of time, it's impossible to grasp.  So much of my meditation has been spent helping me enjoying the present moment, and I have never felt more able than now. As I sat on a layover in a cafe in the Istanbul Airport, drinking Turkish coffee and eating Turkish delights, I marveled at how one can not bottle or take an experience with you.  The memories change with time, details leave me but the feelings that I have experienced of different places and people all remain, thank you all for the gifts of a million and one beautiful feelings.

Maria's Children Pt. 2

I am sorry it has taken me so long to write this next blog. I find when I am in the full throws if traveling I really want to enjoy the act of the travel. It I'd only in the empty spots in-between when I have a moment of reflection that I really want to sit down and write.

I talked about the form and history of Maria's children in the last blog, here I will try and boil down the feeling. With some time and perspective the feeling truthfully was what I mentioned in that it takes a village to raise a child, and this village was one of the most beautiful I've experienced, and it would all happen in less than two weeks. It was steeped in love, and from the moment I arrived I felt like I was visiting distant family I had always heard of, but never met before.

I was greeted exhausted and weary off the ten hour airplane ride by two of the Maria's family team, former orphans now staff. I arrived an hour later by bus to the resort where Maria's children had rented twelve houses, subdivided into four families and each house holding a mix of staff, orphans and volunteer. These kind open hearted humans would so quickly feel like family, although many spoke little English and I spoke next to no Russian.

I was ushered into Elephant (Slone in Russian) house. I'd name everyone in our family of about 25 or so, but for fear of missing someone or horribly misspelling Russian names I'll speak in generals. Our family consisted a few American volunteers, a few adult and younger orphans and the Beslan contingency. Our mother and our father were the world renowned photographer super duo couple of Oxsana and Aurther who I became fast friends with.

Over the course of but a few days each morning would be met with hugs and much pantomime, seven meals a day, so many sweats and even more tea.

We all began to create theater together, daily.  Each morning I offered a clown class that ranged from 3-10 participants from the whole camp,  and the afternoons we each family worked on a family film. Ours was about children getting lost in there Phones and Pokemon Go, and three children went on quest to find a fairy queen (played by Maria) who released everyone from their screens and everyone danced together. We had a big theater day, where the whole camp took parts of a smashed together Wizard of Oz and Wicked, and rehearsed, did costumes, make up all in about an hour and a half, and then performed it for each other.  We also had a big game day, where the whole camp went on quests to find the lost parts of a song in an Alice in Wonderland world, I played the queen of hearts.  Towards the end of the camp we rehearsed a few classic Gould and Sterns clown Sketches such as the Running of the Clowns, They Are Naked And They Do Dance (Monty Python), and Howdy Buckaroo.

Each day was filled with hugs and piggy back rides, so much affection that I found my eyes brimming with tears daily, there was always at least one moment where a kid would just want to hug me while I led my clowning class for a half an hour, or another would want a piggy back ride every where we went, that it was impossible to not be swept in by the closeness of it all.  I taught kids slight of hand, how to make a red nose disappear and  reappear behind your ear, and then gave out red noses to the entire camp.  Kids were running around pulling red noses out of each others ears, I probably showed the trick a hundred times but they always wanted more, to see it again. 

In the evenings we would have big dance parties, then my house would settle in and watch cartoons together, kids fitting to get the best spot to snuggle in between adults.  Afterwards myself and another volunteer Kate, a college university teacher from Virginia, would sing lullabies for the kids in our house.  The boys would usually be passed out asleep, but the girls from Beslan would always wait up to hear us sing.  It quickly occurred to me that I could not remember that many lullabies, so I sang rounds, and motown and gospell songs, anything we could think off.  Many of them could not speak English, but they had there favorites they wanted us to sing each night. A few nights when Kate could not make it I sang to them myself, there favorites were "Wade in the Water" as part of a spiritual round, and "someones rocking my dreamboat".  Each moment felt precious that if i thought to hard it would melt away, so my only choice was to just be with them.

Our final night and day ended with a cabaret of the whole camp, and a circle of love where each family spent time telling what they appreciated about each other.  There were many tears and many more hugs, and we each were given Elephant stuffed animals, one of Besland girls named hers Dory, so I named my Leyra after her.  Everyone packed into vans, there were more tears and hugs, and waves and fairwells, and then the experience was over.  Most of the kids say they dream of these two weeks all year long, even though many see Maria and hers staff throughout the year, they do art at the studios, do a winter camp and field trips, this summer camp is among the most important to them.  They get a super dose of warmth and love to take back into there grey lives.  To know there is more in this world, that they do have a big silly non biological family out there that loves them very much.  Maria asked me upon the end of camp when I would be back, I said as often as I could.

Russia and Maria's Children Part. 1

My experience in Russia was among the most beautiful experiences, that I would struggle to put it into one post so I will break it down into two.  To begin to describe the Maria's Children Arts camp I wills start with the idea of it takes a village to raise a child, especially when those children have never had the parental love and support in the first place they so rightly deserve.  This camp is special in the fact that the child to adult ratio is about half to half (around 120 or so people depending on the day)  Also only half of the kids themselves were orphans, the other half were kids of volunteers and students from Beslan, Russia, a small ethnic minority in the Northern caucasus Region.  The community was tramatized in 2004 when the school there was attacked by Chechnya rebels, a hostage situation ensued and hundreds of people were killed, the majority being children, see Beslan school siege - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia .

The adults were a wonderful mix of Maria's Children staff, Teachers, Russian and International volunteers, former Orphans (many of which are on the staff) and there families.  The camp took place at a beautiful resort outside Moscow with playgrounds and a lake for swimming, fishing and wind surfing. There were 8 houses rented, that were lived in by the camp and the camp was broken up into four families, the Elephants, Lions, Giraffes and Zebras. The houses were a mix of campers and volunteers with each house having a Mama and Papa of the house, two staff or volunteers.  These houses really did become big families, with moms and dads, aunts and uncles, cousins and a variety of languages spoken in each.  Each house would have breakfast together in the morning which started each day.

There was a rough group meeting around 10 where different teachers would announce their master classes, for anyone, kids or adults to take and those classes would ensue, a mix of art, dance, and theater (every day I taught a clown or theater game class) workshops, with a massage master class and other practicals as well.  The camp moved fluidly, with each class going as long as it wanted and the orphans had no obligation to participate in any of the classes, they could ride bikes around or just move from class to class, it was all very free flowing.  This would be followed by a lunch between 12 and 2, depending.  The afternoon would consist of a tea time/snack, nap times, more master classes, activities, lake time, dance party time, depending on the day until dinner which usually was between 8-9.  There would be a few more teas in there, and between 9-10 the day would end with more family time, in my house we would all watch cartoons together, then I had the joy of singing bed time songs to some of the kids in my house, which would become a daily tradition. We would around 11 have a staff/volunteer meeting, and then some would go to bed, others would stay up, have another tea time, play music, play games and talk till 2 or 3 in the morning.  There were also different event days, big water day, big theater day, big game day and final performance day. 

To most of my plan minded Americans this might seem like a pretty loose camp structure, and trust me it took time to get use to, but from day one I begin to see the purpose of such a free flow style camp, the effect it had on the kids, the kids seemed just plain happy.  I learned that the majority of the Orphan's live a regimented prison esque life.  Their lives are so tight, and planned that they rarely get the chance to just play and roam, which are pretty important parts of being a kid.  Also they get to do what makes them happy, another thing devoid from alot of their lives, such as take classes if they want, ride bikes when they want, just hang out and eat snacks when they want.  The second aspect of this is the fact that the camp is an absolute love fest.  Hugs everywhere, and most classes are an equal 1/1 kid adult ratio, with some classes having two adults to every kid. This meant that at any time these kids were getting  love from one to three adults, which is the epidemy of attention, another thing that these kids grow up with in major deficit.  At times a kid would run up and just hug you, hug you and walk with you, spend half of your morning hugging you, through the master class and into lunch, and this is all so encouraged, because another thing these kids have in deficit throughout the year is just the loving kind attention of family.  I began to realize this indeed, are these kids family.  They spend time throughout the year attending the studios that Maria and her staff run in Russia, and a variety of other events, a winter camp, weekend outing at Maria's Datcha (second home and studio) outside of Moscow, but this two weeks in the summer they dream about all year long. 

 Many of the state run orphanages truly resemble prisons, long rooms with the kids only have cots and trunks were they can hold the few things that belong to them in.  All the joys and pleasures we hold so dear to our child hoods, regardless of how mixed or difficult your childhoods were, chances are these kids did not have any of that.  Maria's children becomes the family for those without families, and you realize that you want to be a part of it.  I, who came from a loving regular old american middle class upbringing, wanted to be part of this family, to give these kids every ounce of my hear and experience.  Its the same for so much of the staff and volunteers, the other adult orphans that Maria invites into this fold. 

 I was moved to tears on a daily bases watching and participating in this process. I will tell of my personal experience in the next post, but i wanted to paint the picture of exactly what made this place so special, and unlike any other summer camp I have ever had the chance to work at.

New York the foreign and the science of expectations

               

Let's start off an adventure right, with a unexpected week delay in the foreign land of New York. Then throw in some running around the city to get an expedited visa, some seeing many dear old friends, meeting incredible new ones at burlesque caberet, roof top bar college reunions, Thai tacos and long walks of the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges. Sounds just like the trip 

you might have planned right?

Because that's what a true adventure actually looks like, but only if you can get over the concept of lost expectations. True, my first day returning from the airport having not flown to Russia due to missing part of my documentation, was a miserable experience. Also true, my mistake cost me hundreds of dollars. Also also true it did require an extreme amount of self patience and breath. I spent two years planning this dream trip, and it would not start out at the time nor the way I had expected.

That is the funny thing with expectation, it is a tool for how to look at what is coming, but becomes the biggest hang up in our minds with how we handle situations when they actually arise.  I had expected to fly to Russia, and begin this incredible trip, life had other plans.  The visa issues were also entirely my fault, a mix of assumptions and misunderstanding. That is a tough pill to swallow, when you just make a big o'l mistake. I had taken care of every single other tiny detail, except for one of the biggest ones which was checking the paperwork I had, lesson learned.

However I came to bust heads and live the hell out of this experience, and I'll be damned if a little delay will swing me into a Debbie downer. With the help of another dear heart who has dealt with this stuff before, I delayed my flight, and proceeded to traverse the city getting the materials I needed to expedite a visa. It would end up costing me all my reserve funds, but this adventure was meant to happen,  and I was going to fly.

My first attempt at the Russian consulate, the door was locked and me a few other confused Amercian's walked back and forth between two doors until a portly Russian fellow straight from a stereotype sauntered out. He started barking Russian at us, about what you would expect from the a portly security guard of a Russian embassy. Seeing only a few in the cue spoke Russian, he went on to explain the rules in English while smiling a sickly sweet smile, if you did not have an appointment you could only make one online, and it had to be a week in advance.  I said " but please sir I am trying to clown with orphans"  He just stared at me, pointed to a piece of paper posted on the outside of the consulate that said the same thing, and went back inside.

Strike one clown, but I was not deterred. the next was to contact one of the many visa expedite places, and the main one for Russia was ILS, which was way downtown.  I went online and filled out the seven page questionnaire on my phone, yes it was seven pages to enter the country for less than a month. I love when countries leaders fight, and then everyone decides how much fun it would be for everyone else to fill out more paperwork. I found were their office was, and in fear that I did not have the right, 2 photo's, invitation letter, place of stay, entry and departure flight information, and passport sweated profusely the entire subway trip there.  I got to the third floor office, entered a cue, sat down to another very surly Russian woman who proceeded to tell me that I had missed several important areas in my paperwork. I needed the last three years work history with contact information, and every country I had visited in the last year in order with exact dates. She did not seem to care that I had important clowning to do.  I went online on my phone and tried in vane as the page refreshed itself and deleted my work several times to fix the mistakes.

 I had been sitting there for 45 minutes clearly in anguish when my angel appeared in the form of a round, balding, middle aged New York/Russian man. I am going to call him Vlad, because in my panic at the time I could not remember his real name, but he saw me their in all my struggle, and invited me to his desk where he smiled and laughed and asked what I was going to Russia for.  I said to clown with orphans, and prepared myself for the same cold response, and him to say he hated clowns and orphans and I would never make it there.  He instead smiled and said that was a beautiful reason to go to Russia, and told me not to worry, he was going to get me there.  All the tension drained through my feet, and we chatted and laughed and breezed over the problems in my paperwork. He just filled in all the mistakes for me and said they were really not important at all and to come back in three days to get my visa. I told him id have a drink in his name in Russia, to Vlad, my middle aged, balding, New York/Russian Angel. 

This meant I would only missed four days with the kids at camp, done and done.

New York truly turned into an absolute blessing, of wonderful supportive friends, incredible reunions, good food and new people that changed my life perspective.  It actually slowed me down, forced me to breath and prepare in a way I had not truly had time for in crazy business in leaving Vermont. I felt so cared for in a city that's previously felt foreign, difficult and busy. I stayed at four different friends homes, who I am so thankful for taking such sweet care of me. I went to an incredible Burlesque Caberet/Alice in Wonderland themed dance party that a friend got me tickets to, and proceed to party the night away until the sun came up with a slew of old and new friends.  I also drank on no less than four roofs in the wonderful summer city nights.  So here to you, you beautiful bastard New York. 

I travel with a little help from my friends

I am a few hours away from flying to Russia to begin a three week incredible journey of learning a hell of a lot by clowning with some sweet orphans in Moscow Russia with the organization Maria's Children.  From their to Hamburg Germany, Paris France, Barcelona Spain, and London England to visit friends until the end of August. I then Fly to Chang Mai Thailand where I will do my Thai massage training, fly back for a week for my brothers wedding, then shove off to Goa India to do my Ayurveda training and travel India.

However firstly I have to thank some folks.  I would not be doing this incredible trip if it was not for the constant support and love from my family, friends and community.  Secondly this blog is a direct thank you to those who gave and shared my gofundme that raised me the cost of my Thai and Ayurveda training and most of my travel insurance too! These are the wonderful loves that shared non-anonymously:

Marcia and Philip Hamm, Sam and Michelle, Rebecca Holtz, Kathleen Hathaway and Family, Daryl Ray, Jerry and Patricia Kreitzer, Donna Kreitzer,
Keith and Meloney Fletcher, Bill and Betsy Peobody, Emily Seymour, Julie Schoenthal, Darren Fitzgerald,
Caleb Matthiesen ,Liz Keefe, Jason Herman, Stephanie Bowden, Steph Scholl, Rebecca Waxman, Anna Karola, Laura Bliss, Julian McBrowne, Prima Cristofalo, Jenna Pruitt, Rick Drawert and Family, Eric Bass
Marcia Rosati and Family, David and Elizabeth Zucker, Nick, Jen and Dominic Champney, Kelsey Indziniak
Angela Snow, Trish Stalter, Sandy Klein, Krista Roche, Michael Nethercott, Keely Eastley, Lisa McCormick, Ben Krisher, Jen and Joe Martin, Lee Bartell, Claire and Barry Nelson, Geoff Hunt, Jess and Jay Gelter, And to my many anonymous donors you know who you are .

Also thank you to my many wonderful friends and family that shared my gofundme along, gave me advice and support, listen to me complain, gave their love, tea, beer, food and all the emotional and spiritual support a boy could ask for.

This project moved me deeply,  I regularly found myself in this process feeling undeserving and questioning why did I deserve such wonderful support and people in my life.  My own personal barriers of self-love and self-doubt were brought to the for-front, and I was forced to come face to face with the idea that we all receive the love we share with this world.  I had dreamt of a day when I could love myself and deserve such love, and having all of you, my community shower me such was almost to much to handle at times, but reminded me of the strength and belief that we all do deserve such love.  This trip is as much about giving my theater skills to kids and then honing my massage skills, as it is about showing myself my own capabilities and self love that I most definitely deserve.  You all deserve such as well, every human with all of our difficulties, dark sides and dirty pasts deserved self love, forgiveness and a grain of salt.  The worst humans are capable of love, the best humans capable of the darker stuff, and everything in-between.  This world needs a pinch more tenderness, a tea spoon more of patience, a few cups more of love, stir that all in a community and bake it at about a nurturing temperature and you will be surprised what comes out of it.  I came out of it, you all came out of it, this project was but lifting up one little lanky Vermonter to go learn with his hands, and that is nothing compared to what we as a greater community are capable of.  I empower you to get out there with yourself, do the things you love, shower yourself with self love, learn more, travel more and start working with the dark sides of yourselves and the world.  We have alot of work to do, but as you showed me many hands make light work, so lets start looking at the bigger stuff.

To the nasty stuff of the world:  Racism you better watch yourself, Sexism you can't hide from us, xenophobia, bigotry, intolerance, hatred, self loathing, you all better buy a ticket to getthefucklostville because we are coming with a community of many hands and many hearts and we will bury you all in a dumptruck of love and understanding.

Ok, time to fly to Russia and hang with Orphans, stay tuned for the first real episode coming soon of Doran Dangers Wordly Adventure.