Experience Thai Mom in all her lovely, light-filled glory.

We’re moving out in the next couple days. Some will stay, some will go, but one thing that we all agree on is that Thai Mom and Dad have been amazing. On day one at this house, before we even paid or said we would move in, Dad gave me the keys and said, “You’re family now. You are like our children.” Mom raised her eyebrows and nodded with that smile that seems to never fade.

I knew that leaving this house would be tough. It’s not even the house, it’s them. It’s our neighbor, it’s the mechanics down the street that we smile at every morning we head out on our motorbikes – also the same guys that wrangled me in with Bogdan, one of our cameramen, for some whiskey tonight on our way to the market. It’s the endless smiles and Mom serving us homemade food on our patio and staying around to speak to us, even though we still speak hardly any Thai. Mom and Dad knew it would be tough, too. So Mom – speaking to me almost entirely in Thai – let me know that she planned a picnic for us. She said she would plan everything and knock on our doors to wake us up for a 9am departure. So Michael, Bogdan, and I went for it.

I didnt have the heart to tell Mom or Dad that I had already been to a floating lakehouse, but this one didnt include a private motorboat tug of the entire lakehouse out into the water from the shore, nor did it include Mom’s amazing food, or all the love. Walking across the wooden planks from the shore to the lakehouse, we were a family, all carrying food in bags and tupperware, with a Thai Mom making sure we were protected from the sun, a Thai Dad humbly making his way behind her, in front of a German, tailed by two Americans, one raise in Mexico and the other born in Ukraine. (Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt aint got shit on us.)

Before leaving Dad told us that he and his family hadn’t been there for about 20 years. This wasn’t something they did for just anyone. (Fun side note: Mom took all the cushions from their sofa and some blankets and totally turned the bed of their truck into a crash pad for us for the 2 hours drive there under the Thai blue sky, through rice fields, markets, huge temples and reclining Buddha’s, and breath-taking mountains. Something tells me she doesn’t dismantle her furniture for just anyone, either.) But as she and Dad have made clear, we are her Sons.

You can choose whichever language you desire to say it, but that’s love.

Father and son

On the first week of being in Thailand, I cried.

I cried because I realized that as I was clashing with some of the other cast members I was doing something I had set out not to: I was taking on their negative energy.

After an internal battle he waged for almost 6 years, my Dad died of cancer at our home. As an 11-year-old boy I remember my Auntie stroking my hair and telling me, “He’s no longer in pain.” It was at that moment that I wondered, “Where did he hurt? What was his pain like?” All those happy, colorful little pills I helped him take, all those family trips to chemo – what did that feel like? Unconsciously, this childhood curiosity followed me into my teenage years and adulthood. I was the one everyone could vent to, seek counsel from. Without even being aware, I was taking on all their pain. This didn’t make it’s way to my consciousness until someone asked why I was setting out to film my documentary, A Chance for Peace, in post-election violence Kenya in 2008. My answer was simple: “I want to know what their pain is like.”

When I got to Thailand I realized some of my new travel companions were in pain. They were unhappy. As much as they wanted to hide it I could see it, and a red flag went up. “I don’t want to know their pain,” I said. I wanted to break the cycle I had been circuiting through since I was a little boy. I still do, but as soon as I began this endeavor I was in help mode. I wanted to help everyone find a job, find the best deal on flights, the most central hostel, the nicest house, and so on and so on, but I still felt their pain. Not only were they still unhappy, somehow I was making it worse. My frustration grew. But now I see that I can just be. They can take care of themselves or learn how to independently of me. We’re all adults here. I don’t have to take anyone by the hand or show them the best anything. They can decide what that is and how to get it on their own. That’s not for me to decide. I wont have to deal with the repercussions of their decisions, because they aren’t my decisions, nor do I need to influence them. If any of that happens, it should happen organically. That’s how I have lived and that’s how I will continue to live: authentically.

My life is precious, this experience is a gift, and my mind is clearing, making way for the all the joy and love I have been seeking, instead of the pain I have been circuiting through. Now, I can only offer my appreciate to those that have helped me break that cycle. Certainly, it will take time, but time is on my side.

The word liberation comes to mind.

I love these people!

This weekend was by far the most enlightening weekend I have had in Thailand so far. Tyler and I got the opportunity to stay the weekend in a Karen village, thanks to some awesome new friends we have met here. The scenery on the way to the village is breath-taking. Tucked away in the mountains of Thailand and blanketed with banana trees, it honestly felt like I was living in a scene from “Pocohontas”.

'Life isn't measured by how many breaths you take, rather how many moments take your breath away". This would be one of those moments!

When we first arrived at the village we were greeted with warm smiles from all of our hosts. Peter (one of our hosts) loaded us up in a pick-up truck and took us on a tour of the whole village. We were all smiles watching the scenery pass us by. We started with a little hike to an awesome waterfall where we kicked off our shoes and got the chance to unwind. After the waterfall we loaded back up in the back of the truck and we were headed up the mountain. After riding through some amazing fields of cabbage and corn, we made it to the top of a hill and watched the sunset over the mountains. We then headed back to the village where we were welcomed back with rice whiskey. I myself am not a big drinker, but in the Karen culture it is considered rude to not except anything offered to you. So I had to suck it up and pour the whiskey down the hatch. Many more shots followed while we set Indian style on the balcony of Peters house playing the guitar and singing along to “Hotel California” and many other classic songs. A little inebriated and very tired we went to bed on the floor of the house in a row all snuggled up to one another. The next morning we were woke up by Johnny Cash serenading us on the radio and an extemely annoying rooster who seemed to find pleasure in busting our eardrums. When we eventually arose Peter came into our room with coffee…… and you guessed it Rice Whisky. First thought that came to my mind was, “You’ve got to be kidding me, its 7 a.m.” So we drank our coffee and then we each were offered two shots of the whisky, hesitantly I drank the shots and started my morning. The morning was beautiful, as the low clouds created a mist over the mountain. We headed over to Peters house where breakfast was cooking in a kettle on the floor, we again sat Indian style on the floor of Peters house with the family gathered around and we chowed down like no joke.

It was then time to head out and hit the road. Saying our last goodbyes, we loaded up in the pick-up truck once more and rode out of the village with everyone standing in their yard waving goodbye. I must admit that when I got wind that we would be staying in a village I was a little hesitant about going, but once  by the time we left the village I nearly got teary-eyed when we were saying our goodbyes. It is amazing how these people just open their homes and welcome us into their lives. Peter and his family are some of the most friendly people I have met and it was an honor to be able to see their everyday lives and get to be apart of it. This is honestly what I have been waiting for since arriving in Thailand and I really feel like I got the full experience of Thailand being in the Karen village.

SO much love to all my beautiful friends and family, new and old, who helped make my adieu one I wont soon forget.

Before leaving to Thailand…

I gotta say, with as little monetary resources as I’m working with I still have a blessed and full life. In large part this is due to the beautiful family I will be leaving behind. The community I have built over the past 11 years living in Los Angeles has been unexpected. When I moved to L.A. from Mexico as a teenager I felt like an alien. Now, although the scenery changes as I continue to travel, I take comfort in knowing that the love will always be there, not only for this community I’m saying goodbye to, but for the communities I have yet to meet… in Thailand.

8 days to departure!

Two days until departure. They say no day is more productive than the day before you go on vacation. That’s the day when everything that has to get done, gets done. It’s one of those times when clarity is forced upon you, when you realize that the world will go on even if half of your to-do list doesn’t ever get done.

For me, that day is always frantic, because I am the kind of person who is always running late and breathlessly apologizing for it. And to be running late on the last day before you leave for a trip is stressful, despite having experienced it so many times before. This past week, I have lost and found my passport, broken my phone and reactivated my previous, incompetent one, and written and rewritten my to-do-before-I-leave list. I have finally booked my flight, bought the guidebook, and set aside the clothes I want to pack. At the moment, I’m trying to decide on a netbook to buy before I leave, contemplating whether I’m packing too much, and calling the airline to see if I get a free checked bag with my international flight.

Not enough time! So many people to say goodbye to. I said goodbye to two of my best friends last weekend as we shared some laughs and frozen yogurt. These are girls I’ve known for over half my life, who have seen me through my previous trips and welcome me back with open arms on every return. They were not surprised when I told them I was leaving for Ecuador as it’s a story they’ve heard before. My family gathered over a delicious meal of Japanese tapas, showering me with well-wishes and instructions to come home in one piece. My phone has been ringing with calls from friends wanting to get in a goodbye before I take off. It’s heartwarming to know that the people I will miss, will miss me too.

That’s all for now because as you know, I’m running out of time.