In which thanks is given for computer paper

After this morning's monk alms-giving, I met up with the Big Brother Mouse staff for the best possible way to celebrate Thanksgiving that I can imagine - donating an entire library to a hilltribe village where in many cases the children have never seen a book, much less owned one, and then getting to go with the Big Brother Mouse staff to deliver the donated books to the village, for what they call a "book party." How much does it cost to give a whole Lao village books? $250, folks. Everyone should do this.

Apparently the Westerners who sponsor "book parties" rarely make it out for the actual visit, and in general they apparently go quite deep into northern Laos for the book delivery, so the BBM staff asked me beforehand what degree of trekking I was up for. I said I was a highly fit 32 year old and I would love to go as far as they wanted to take me!

1 van ride, 2 canoe rides, a 2 hour uphill hike, 11 forged rivers (knee to waist deep) and 3 leeches later, I was beginning to rethink my level of fitness. Some of the village children met us at the edge of the Nam Ou river to lead the way through the jungle to their village, and their barefoot pace through the jungle might best be described as "running." Now I've done some epic and vigorous hikes in my time, but they didn't involve being soaked from the waist down the entire time, or being charged by a startled water buffalo.

BBM had suggested I wear flip-flops due to all the wading we were going to have to do (sometimes for entire stretches of the hike we'd just walk upriver, midstream) but if you've ever tried to hike uphill in wet flip-flops I think you'll agree with me that it is totally impossible. I ended up doing most of the hike barefoot which is in fact a lot easier, traction and balance wise, but my feet now are sore, torn up, and have a few weird swollen white spots on them which I hope are just strange blisters but which I fear are some obscure tropical worm that has burrowed into my flesh and will slowly, quietly eat me while I sleep tonight. Only time will tell.

Anyhow it was all worth it (well, if I don't get eaten by footworms) for the once-in-a-lifetime experience of being the honored guest at a village that has rarely/never had a foreign visitor. Seeing the children stand in rows and vigorously clap for me upon my introduction was the first of many moments that made me start to cry, even if perhaps their teacher did just say in Lao "clap for white lady or get no fish stick later!" BBM has an incredible program that they do with the kids (read all about it here) which involves games, singing, storytelling, and special food treats, and the staff is absolutely incredible at putting on an amazing day for the children.

At the end the children find out that they each get their own book of their choice, to keep forever, and 3 blank sheets of computer paper, for writing and drawing their own ideas. I was in charge of handing out the computer paper: to have thrilled child after child bow at my feet, press their little palms together and tell me Khup jai lai lai Jeeeen! for 3 blank sheets of computer paper - well, it was all I could do to not be the crazy sobbing white lady at that point.

Leeches, by the way, don't hurt at all and do seal the wound they make on you shut, as the guidebooks promised. But they do look totally and completely disgusting while writhing, sticking vertically out from your blood vein. Totally. Completely. Disgusting.