alu in amman (i live here now)

adventures in SEA Asia & Jordan

Amman, Jordan (August)

I sit in a swanky cafe across from my friend Amani, who is kindly hosting me while I get my bearings in my new home. The American taxpayer, via the Department of Education, has supplied me with a 9-month Arabic study fellowship, from September through May.

Classes start tomorrow. I’m pretty nervous. I haven’t spent time in a classroom setting — much less studied the language — since college, when Amani and I first got to know each other in Arabic 101. It’s hard to imagine, back then, that the boundaries of our day-to-day world lay largely within Hyde Park, when life has since brought us to such distant places and ideas and ambitions. I’m thinking how I’m abundantly grateful that we’ve grown in similar directions, that I get to follow a familiar soul into this unfamiliar terrain…

Last time I wrote, I was climbing in Tonsai. As the climbing seasons dwindled down, I reluctantly left the beach bum life behind and continued North through Thailand, stopping in Bangkok to hang out with some climbers I’d met back in Penang, and then running out my visa at a week-long silent Vipassana (literally, “insight”) retreat in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

It’s fairly popular in the southeast asia backpacker circuit to spent 1-2 weeks at a retreat center (in no small part because most of the programs are donation-based). The temples are open to folks of all faiths and backgrounds, as long as you’re willing to abide by a set of rules meant to foster mindfulness. For my retreat that meant no internet, no books, no food after noon, and “noble silence” with exceptions for a dail meeting with our teacher. We meditated for about 7-10 cycles per day, for a total of 10-12 hours.

I struggle to put the experience into words; like the trail, it’s one of those things you have to do for yourself to properly understand. Also akin to the trail, the highs are quite high, and the lows are quite low, and the magical part is that brief moment in between when you find those rare moments of pure, unmediated awareness.

I skipped across Laos (no time to stop, sadly) to spend my last three weeks of solo travel in Vietnam. Hanoi might be my favorite city in Southeast Asia, after Penang of course. It’s green and alive, plants hanging off of every balcony and vines scrambling up the sides of buildings, claiming the concrete as their own.

I spent a week unsuccessfully trying to climb outdoors on Cat Ba island (it was the rainy season), but did meet some interesting characters and eventually was able to deep water solo — climbing on sea-side cliffs with clean falls into the ocean (if you do it right).

Left Cat Ba to do some hiking about the lush paddy fields of SaPa on a perfectly cool, overcast day. Hiking in the rainy season is something special — I think the green stands out even brighter against gray skies. A Hmong family took me in for the night when the sky cracked open on my head. Mama Khu showed me how she collected, wove, and hand-dyed hemp with home-grown indigo.

Next I headed south to the beach town of Da Nang for a few days, then a permaculture farm an hour outside of Hanoi where I worked for stay for a week, and learned to make some local dishes from my lovely and rambunctious roommate, Chi Tu.

In June, I reunited my mom and little siblings in Penang for a glorious week-long food-fest…

Some flowers picked to dry from Ah-Kong’s garden

After a week of ample gorging, we all flew to Pakistan to meet Abu for a decidedly insane and delightful roadtrip through the mountainous northern regions. Nineteen members of my extended family, ages 2 to 60-something, in one minibus… you can imagine that traveling with a group of that size, in such close quarters, comes with both its joys and discontents. :)

But ultimately I’m grateful to be part of a clan willing to embark on wild adventures — including a solidly tough scramble up a mountain, and getting to take my little cousin on her first overnight thru-hiking trip to the Rakaposhi base camp. It was a tough slog to camp, and she did it without any prior warning, and in city sneakers to boot.

We are sandwiched by mountains, Anya (pictured above) said.Ultar to the south, a family of striped rocky faces to the East. At our feet lay Minapin glacier, ice striated brown and white and gray. We watched a boulder roll couple a few meters from the alpine field on which we stood onto the ice spreading beneath us. It was a special thing to share such place with her — it’s a sacred place. Something like the Sierra’s, but older, maybe wiser, somehow.

Attabad Lake. No filter here, believe it or not. It’s even bluer in real life.

I stayed on in Gulmit village, Hunza Valley for another week for a guided three-day glacial trek to Patundas Meadows (approx 4,200 meters). My guide Farman nd I scrambled up and down slippery dunes, leapt across crevices and glittering streams, paused to hear the menacing booms of ice collapsing down-stream. We drank tea of chamarro (a local herb) and slept in shepherd huts at the top of the meadow with a 360 view of some of the world’s tallest peaks. I got giardia. Life went on.

Farman, my trusty erstwhile guide. Happy to share his contact information if you’re interested in trekking around the Gulmit area.

And then, back to Malaysia for one last hurrah. I had a perfect last day: a cousins’ collaging session, a feast with my extended family; and a dear friend brought over my favorite desert. I was quite loathe to say good bye to so many people and places who have pieces of my heart. It struck me then, as much as I love the nomadic life, that I’m ready to settle down in one place for a little longer, and enjoy the fruits of a more constant and stbale community for a while.

And finally back to the US for a hectic month. I visited family in Cali, climbed and did some off trail scrambling with Joe (yeah, the same Joe who saw me off on the first miles of the PCT) near the Sierras — in a true full circle moment, we camped a few miles outside of one the PCT’s biggest trail towns.

The sibs

Mama & Abu in Big Sur

Joe’s car camping set up

Then 10 days back in Michigan to prepare for the next adventure, and then, off to Amman…

So here I am, and here I go. Thanks for following along the way. :)