it seemed like a good idea at the time

life moves at a different pace in little pala-u, and it has been a bit of an adjustment. I am trying to teach myself to enter each new day with as few expectations as possible, because when i do, they are generally shattered. This is not to say that our time here has been disappointing, just surprising and sometimes disorienting. there can be very little preparation on our part, because we rarely know what we're doing for the day until just prior to the event, or as we are being carted off to some undisclosed location.

this was the case last wednesday. kyle and i had finished our chores for the morning, and so we twiddled our thumbs, awaiting instructions. around 10:00am, an older, well-dressed thai couple arrived in dockers and conspicuously branded sunglasses, and wat announced that we would be accompanying them in their swank suv back to their farm to collect firewood: not an exciting day, but at least we had an activity.

after roughly two hours of hauling felled tree limbs in the increasingly oppressive heat, wat went to ask the land owner a question, and a young thai man who'd been helping us load his truck with the firewood motioned for us to hop in.

brief aside: both of our mothers have cautioned us as to the dangers of entering the vehicle of a perfect stranger who beckons in your general direction. this did not turn out to be the sort of disaster they were likely envisioning, but i still might think twice next time before nodding like an idiot and opening the door.

after snaking down some country roads, between fields of pineapple, cotton, and maple trees, our driver turned to me, expectantly. it quickly became clear that one: he spoke no english, two: he expected us (the clueless white people) to navigate, and three: we were completely, absurdly lost in the thai countryside with a truck full of firewood.

for the next hour, we wove through a dense agricultural labyrinth, in a navigation style embarrassingly similar to my own; the driver would take random turns until we dead-ended on someone's property, surrounded by chickens and pendulously-balled bulls, before either asking for vague directions (lots of pointing, waving, and shoulder-shrugging) or backing up and randomly trying another road. kyle tried to get a vantage point from the roof of the truck to orient us, but we didn't really know what to look for, and couldn't have communicated much if we did, so we weren't very much help.

finally, we arrived victorious and thirsty in the back yard of wat's friend. kyle and i expected, if not a hero's welcome complete with trumpet fanfare, then at least a "where the hell have you two been?" and a glass of water. alas, none was forthcoming, and no one seemed impressed by the ordeal: it was as if the hour-long joy ride had been what everyone was planning for us from the beginning. i wonder if we were justified in feeling confused and somewhat indignant, or if this was just a product of our western self-centered sense of entitlement. i guess at the end of the day, it's hard to argue with the fact that no matter how confused we get here, things tend to work themselves out with a little time and perseverance. to travel with the notion that you can plan for everything and be in control at all times is unrealistic. our best memories so far from this vacation have come from the moments that took us by surprise. i think we'll both try to do a better job of embracing the chaos.