The breeze gently caresses my face. The sound of the waves rolling softly onto the shore soothes me. A tree behind me in the jungle hums with cicadas. The tide is rising toward the full moon high, and soon we will move to higher ground. Soft music plays in the background.
My day began with deep yoga meditation and a sound bath.
I take a slow breath of clean, warm, salty air, leaving a faint taste of salt on my lips. My new friends are enjoying the surf. It feels blissful, almost trance-like.
This is my day of peace, and I offer any merit I gain simply by being kind, sharing it with all beings who are suffering.
I enter the sea, grateful for its coolness. The waves rise and crest in a foamy froth. The sun dances across the choppy water, stretching as far as I can see. I breathe and submerge beneath a crashing wave. Energy moves through my body as I rise again and breathe. Salt stings my eyes, and the current seems to flow out through my feet. The rhythm repeats, again and again.
I notice the contrast between heat and coolness and reflect on my own state of mind — peace alongside worry, tenderness beside ache. For a moment, I hold a gentle prayer for the safety of those who live for what is right, who serve not only themselves but others. My heart breathes toward their pain, their sacrifice, their suffering — with compassion and quiet hope.🕊️J
As I sit here, far from the land I once called home, I feel like a castaway – safe enough in body, but restless in spirit. My heart has never left the people who don’t have the luxury of distance, who cannot step away, who must stay and endure and fight, quietly or loudly – for the simple right to live in peace.
I watch eighteen monks walking from Texas to Washington, DC. Eighteen human beings placing one foot in front of the other, blister by blister, mile by mile. They carry no weapons, no demands…only the radical offering of compassion. They speak to anyone willing to listen, reminding us that peace is not something granted by power, but something cultivated within. Their message is soft, ancient, and profoundly inconvenient.
And then I look at the other image unfolding at the same time: injustice normalized, cruelty excused, violence absolved by the very regime meant to protect its people. My eyes fill with tears at the stark polarity of it all. Love walking barefoot on asphalt, and brutality signing itself into law. How can these two truths exist in the same place, at the same moment?
Yes, peace begins within us. Yes, we must stand for those to whom violence is being delivered and disguised as order. But how do we reconcile this duality? A nation split down its own spine…grieving, angry, afraid. A war within our borders, fought by people turned into instruments, while those pulling the strings keep their hands clean of blood.
What breaks my heart most is knowing that this violence comes from flesh and blood no different from my own. That human beings, mostly masked men, can commit such harm with such malice, then return home and sleep. Your mother is watching you, your wives, sons and daughters. That evil does not arrive as a monster, but as a neighbor, a voter, a uniform, a signature on a page.
And yet… somewhere beneath the grief, a quieter truth persists: this does not have to be the end of the story.
I wrestle with forgiveness…for those who empowered this harm, who waved it through with one stroke of a pen, one push of a voter button. The ones who dismissed warnings as exaggeration, cruelty as “fake news,” consequences as something that would only happen to others. Someday, this will reach your doorstep too. Not as a headline, but as a reckoning. And I struggle, deeply, with how to hold compassion for that truth without surrendering accountability.
So I return to the monks.
Eighteen figures against the noise. Silent, aching, devoted. How can something so small withstand such chaos? Maybe it can’t…at least not in the way we measure power. But perhaps the outpouring of love, the tears, the prayers, the witnessing – that is how peace moves from an abstract ideal into something rooted, something lived. Not to heal the world all at once, but to heal hearts, one by one.
A forest does not begin with full-grown trees. It begins with a seed…fragile, buried, fighting through cold and heat, breaking open in darkness before it ever reaches the light. Strength is not loud at first. It is persistent.
Photo by Bernie Boston 1967
We may not be able to meet might with might. But I am reminded of an old photograph from the 1960s: a single flower placed into the muzzle of a gun. A quiet refusal. A reminder that even in the face of violence, there are those who choose tenderness…not because it is weak, but because it is brave.
And maybe, just maybe, that is how the work begins. 🌱
The immense energy builds The water retreats from the beach leaving a shimmering ripple on the sand The wave pulls up Up and up building up a frothy top Gravity takes control and the wave crashes A thunderous clap as the top of the immense wave hits the calm water below It rolls slowly to the shore loosing its energy as it passes over the sand The calm and stillness take over A lone surfer paddles out and meets this energy Riding its strength and power
The sky beyond the waves is vast and encompassing I stare into it with a deep inhalation As I release I am pulled into the vastness of the deep blue I enter the energy and light As finite as the line between sea and sky is I transcend into the oneness of it all The breeze blows across my skin…hot with sun My toes bury deep in the sand I am connected earth, sky and water I am the link between them all I breathe again and slowly pull my conscious back to this moment I can feel the interconnectedness of it all and I am one with it all and at peace Johnna
It’s been 2 months since we left the most peaceful, kind and giving part of the world.
We left Utah on June 1, 2020, as the world fell apart with COVID-19. We took off in our 2015 Ford Transit Van which we had spent the previous year preparing and building out the inside to serve as our home on the road. We chose the van life primarily for Gandaulf, since he was getting a bit too old to travel abroad via airplanes. It also was the safest way we could see the western US, with thousands of people dying everyday from this horrible disease.
It was hard at first to adjust to a small living space, but in actuality it was to be mainly for escaping weather and sleeping. Cooking, showering and all other “living” were done outside. Chris, Gandaulf, and I communing with Mother Nature at the most intimate of levels. Soon we became one with the ebb and flow of the days, enjoying hikes, bike rides, kayaking, campfires, sitting in silence, and living carefree. We spent the year touring Utah, Wyoming, Idaho, Arizona, Southern California, Montana and headed into Baja, Mexico for February through April of 2021.
Now, life on the road is not all fun and games. There’s a lot of lifting, bending, crawling on the ground, maintenance and things we always took for granted such as, finding potable water for our tanks. At times, we’d get a hotel room just to stand under an unlimited amount of hot water. We never planned too far ahead, usually two weeks out was good, but we always had direction. We had the freedom to follow brown signs to some new location we’d never been. There were breakdowns and even a dead mouse somewhere in the van that caused a week and a half of serious woes while in Canada.
Gotta find the mouse
In August of 2021, the border to Canada opened. We spent the previous summer in the Montana back country, hoping the border would open to no avail. This time we were ready and packed up and headed for Canada but this trip ended sooner than planned due to illness in the family. We made it as far as Jasper, AB and turned around to be with family during this time. In January of 2022, while preparing for another winter in Baja, Mexico, we lost both our little sister and Dad within a day of each other. We hung out in Salt Lake to help with the arrangements and to make sure that everyone was back on their feet. In March, 2022, we headed back out towards New Mexico and Arizona, then up to Idaho for the fall. October 2022 through January 2023, we headed down the west coast Highway 1, slowly making our way towards Baja, Mexico to spend another glorious winter.
January 30, 2023, as we were preparing to cross into Baja, Mexico, the call came that stopped us in our tracks. Forced to return to Salt Lake City, Utah, we packed up the van, mid-winter, and headed 700 miles north into the grips of the cold. We spent time at our girlfriend’s AirBnB until we found a new owner for the one ball and chain left in our life, our commercial property. After 3 months of winter, we watched the Spring bloom and the snow melt away. On March 21, 2023, the first day of Spring, we lost our 13 year old corgi, Gandaulf to dementia and pain. It was more than either of us could bear. On one hand we were free now to travel outside of the US, but what fun would it be without our little sidekick? What’s true is that life was still moving on with or without us, so we sold the van, the side by side ATV and trailer, gave away Gandaulf’s toys and food, and bought a one way ticket to Europe May 11, 2023.
Austria
Our travels the next 7 months took us to Ireland, Scotland, Portugal including 2 Azore islands, Germany, Austria, Spain, Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia, and Cyprus. We flew back to Salt Lake City for two weeks to resupply and move our clothes over to backpacks which was much more suited for the SE Asia countries and islands we planned to visit next.
IrelandST Miguel, AzoresNorthern CyprusMadeira, Portugal
Europe was an amazing eye opener. First off, everything, it seemed, was uphill. Streets were built to provide one car safe passage and turn outs for passing. There was an exorbitant amount of indiscriminate cigarette smoking…EVERYWHERE! The European people seemed cold and in their own worlds. The inn keepers were friendly enough, but it was their job, not always genuine. The ancient cities and architecture were incredibly beautiful. The history fascinated us. The US is so young in comparison. Kings, queens, armies, witches, sorcerers, jesters, common people and their animals, all strolled around the walled cities commonly found in most countries we visited. In my mind’s eye, I could picture the period costumes on the droves of people mingling in squares, sipping tea and coffee in sidewalk cafes. There is still so much to see and I am sure we will return soon to cover a few more countries there.
MontenegroJohn O’Groats, ScotlandEdinburgh
On November 18, 2023, we left for an undetermined amount of time in SE Asia. We had a tour for 45 days that was to cover Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. Again, as in Europe, we were taken back by the history and ancient cities and buildings. The culture was mind blowing! Everywhere you looked, were statues of the Buddha, Vishnu, dragons, snakes, and other spiritual and mythical creatures bearing strong androgynous characteristics. Some half animal half human. The people were genuinely kind in nature, respectful and giving. Their lives were simple and they seemed content. They took care of family, strays, and less fortunate souls. Their religion was not just saved for the weekend, but visible in every aspect of daily life. Kindness abounded.
After our tour, we chose to spend two more months in Thailand, island hopping. We hit Koh Lanta, Koh Phi Phi, Koh Ngai, Koh Kradan, Koh Talabeng, Koh Muk, and Koh Lipe. Each island had its own unique charm with one common denominator…the native islanders. All in all our time in Thailand will always be remembered.
Our next stop took us to Singapore and this small countries’ towering highrises, well thought out freeways and the intelligent use of green spaces. It’s a modern metropolis at the tip end of a peninsula. It was a beautiful but very busy country that seems, from flying in, to be just a piece of land with millions of towering buildings. It has every modern technology incorporated into the infrastructure. It was quite a cool place to spend a few days. We also spent a few days in Langkawi, a small island in Indonesia, then took the leap into Malaysia and Bali, Indonesia.
Bali ended our SE Asia tour. We spent a month touring with our personal driver, Dek Udi. We had a really hard time with the humidity and heat so it was imperative to be around water. We met some of the most interesting and kind people who genuinely took an interest in us and our journey. Soon it was time to leave this incredible island and make our way back to the states for our next big adventure.
There’s so much running around in my brain. First, I’d like to say that 4 months in SE Asia has been a good amount of time. Countries visited include, Cambodia, Laos, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam. There are so many more countries and places to explore, but as with Europe, it will have to wait.
Each country has had its charm, sorted history, beauty, beaches, lakes, and natural formations such as the Karsk Mountains. We’ve visited memorials depicting the horrors of wars, incredible temples and places of deep cultural significance, bumpy roads, tiny streets, crazy traffic, billions of motorbikes, stairs and stairs, and more stairs. The one thing that reigns true in every country, be it a wide open space country, huge city with skyscrapers, or farmlands, are the kindness of the people. I know this has been said over and over again, but believe me, it cannot be said enough. In all of our years of traveling and doing humanitarian work, it is the people with the least, that are willing to give the most.
I can honestly say that Chris and I try our best to be informed about the culture and beliefs of the people in whatever country we visit. It goes a long way believe me. Whether it be a few phrases in the local language, a simple bow, a conversation about the religion or mythology of the people, you can see their eyes brighten and a smile comes across their face that says more than words could ever convey. To be courteous and ask permission to take a photo shows a great deal of respect at times.
One thing we struggle a bit with is tipping. On our tours with GAdventures, we learned how tipping can be a good and bad thing. Being “westerners”, privileged as some would call us, it is important to understand the concept of tipping. For example, in Cambodia and Vietnam, the average monthly salary is equal to about $400 USD. The people live comfortably and are happy. Introduce tourism; they may be employed at a hotel, restaurant or attraction catering to tourists from all over the world. IF these tourists tip, which is about 30% do vs 70% that don’t, the appropriate tip may seem ridiculously small to us, but to them, it could mean more than we can imagine. Sometimes it amounts to nothing but the fact that you have recognized them and appreciate their service. That you see them! The point being, tip appropriately…not like you would at home. It can disrupt their lives in ways we can’t understand.
Next thing we make a point to do is ask the locals about themselves and their family. We engage with the tour guides, drivers and hotel staff. They aren’t robots, not yet anyway. They live to have the jobs they do. They feel very lucky to have them and will always serve you with that genuine smile I am always talking about. Even when you can see them visibly melting in the heat and humidity, just as you are, they persevere, continuing to do the best they can to serve you. For example; we watched a woman in Thailand that was probably 7-8 months pregnant. She was there for lunch at 11am and was still there when we went back for dinner at 8pm and was still there when we left at 9:30. The restaurant was still open for another 1.5 hours. She was seating customers and clearing tables. She never stopped. There was no AC, just an open air restaurant. Another woman, a bit overweight by Thai standards, was also there that same time. It was an exceptionally hot day and the night was stifling with not a hint of breeze. She stood at her station with sweat running down her face, using a menu to cool herself. She greeted us with a smile and welcomed us back by name. It’s often hard to put aside the privileged part of us that can’t believe the working conditions.
All this writing made me hot, so I just used my pool. Now the pool attendant is helping us to get more shade on our cushy sun bed. 🥵🤣 Like i was saying…
We are currently in Uluwatu, Bali, our last stop in Bali. It’s 84 degrees or 31 celsius and 80% humidity. I’m watching 4 guys on a glass roof over the eating area at the restaurant, removing what amounts to a completely shattered piece of 3/4” tempered glass…with no gloves! No safety gear, just grit and perseverance. Wow! 🥵😳 I need to go use the pool again just from watching them…
We hope that you’ve enjoyed our journey. Feel free to reach out to us for recommendations or with any questions about where we’ve been. Thanks for following our travels! The Girls
And again, it is time to move along to our next destination, Singapore.
The last 10 days have been spent recovering from a 43 day tour of SE Asia, including Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. The things we have seen, heard and experienced, will be indelibly etched into our psyches forever.
The kindness of the locals, the stories told by our many guides, the sights and sounds of countless prisons, war museums and mass grave sites.
The opulence of beautiful temples. The immense grandeur of karst mountains jutting up from azure blue waters. Tiny, brightly painted long boats and giant wooden boats gliding down the Mekong and bobbing in silent, protected coves.
Stunning, powdery white sand beaches, towering skyscrapers in bustling cities, the sensory overload of horns and music blaring from establishments, to the gentle crashing of waves.
All these things paint a picture in our minds eye of life in these countries. We hunger for more as our thirst for travel and new experiences hasn’t waned in the 9 months we’ve been traveling.
What have we learned? Well, how to live in the moment, how to sit in silence, how to take life as it comes with no preconceived notions of what the next destination will bring. We’ve learned to accept that which we cannot change and make the best of it. Mostly, I’d say we’ve learned to slow down. We aren’t just living a dream but also have responsibilities. We have time to pick and choose our battles and how we will approach them. As a teacher of mine always says, we have the luxury of leisure.
It warms my heart to know that sometimes, just the words I write, can transport some of you outside of your haste and allow you 10 or 15 minutes to dream and escape reality. Perhaps they stir a deep longing inside of you to travel outside of your comfort zone.
The life of a traveler is constantly stepping into the unknown and overcoming any trepidation that may arise from traveling to a new destination, one we’ve never been to before. Learning new languages, customs and new currencies. We are traveling to find a place to settle in and become a landing spot, after all, we can’t continue this pace forever and the urge to stop sometimes looms large. But in the mean time, we plan a few weeks to a month and do it again and again. I hope you will continue to follow us and join in our exploration.
Back on a bus headed for Hoi An, Vietnam. It’s Christmas Day. The weather has taken a turn from hot and muggy to a pesky misty rain and much cooler temps. We have hit many cities so far in Vietnam and again we hear, from our local guides, about the horrors of war and the way of the communist rule here in SE Asia. I’m reminded of the famous line from Apocalypse Now…”the horror.” It’s only been since 2000 that westerners have been welcomed back into these countries, and unless you are hearing an account, such as the Tet Offensive, you’d never know how ravaged the people have been. As travelers, we now are bolstering the economy and making a better life for the Vietnamese, Laotians, and Cambodians. They’ve opened up to share their culture, their very kind souls.
As we’ve been traveling about in these countries, I can’t help but feel that slight embarrassment of being from a country that gave up after engaging in such horrorable acts. Our guide said it quite perfectly yesterday, the people choose to live in the present moment. Harboring hate and anger only eats at the lively hood they are enjoying. They are a proud, hard working and very considerate people.
Throughout Vietnam, we’ve seen Buddhist Temples, King’s Tombs, Pagodas, museums and memorials. A culture dating back before anything I can imagine. The streets are lined with markets and food stands, restaurants and hotels that welcome the traveler in. The flurry of motor bikes, cars and buses, vying for a little piece of the road, and even the sidewalks. Two, three, even four people stacked onto a small motor bike. Huge piles of textiles, packaged goods, food and even other motor bikes and animals, all carefully balanced on these small motor bikes. Who needs a van…
Then there’s the thick jungles, farms and cemeteries, stretching as far as the eye can see, when traveling by bus or train from destination to destination. Buddhist Temple and Monasteries stitch together communities, both in the cities and countrysides. The buildings and houses are covered in thick moss and mildew creating a patina only Mother Nature and time can create. The hard working farmers, often are seen plowing muddy fields with water buffalo. Villagers in conical hats, stray, skinny dogs laze around waiting for some kind soul to drop a tasty morsel, perhaps the only food they will get. Ancestor houses at the entrance of every home, carefully decorated in flowers and incense. Huge rivers meander silently, providing transportation and food, through these countries. Mystical and beautiful in its own way.
The rain pitter patters on the window, breaking my stare and bringing me back to the bus, as I watch the bumpy black ribbon of tar take us away from Hue to Hoi An and another city to discover its secrets and stories.
It’s been a few weeks, it seems, since I’ve taken time to gather my thoughts…to recap our adventures…so here we go. Forgive me if I pass those by for now to bring you to this current moment.
Today I find myself sitting on a “slow boat”, cruising down the Mekong River in Laos. My company on board is that of 8 other individuals from around the globe and two guides. In Laos, we are required to have a local Laotian to escort us to the wonderful temples and small riverside villages of the local hill tribes. Sang, our guide, is of small stature, as are many of the Laotians. His voice is calm and soothing and full of pride for his country. Moh, pronounced ma, is our tour guide for GAdventures through Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. Moh is full of a good life force and spreads the joy of her job and her country’s treasures with us as we go along.
As we have been exploring Thailand and Laos, I find myself troubled at times. Moh will be telling of the history of war in these countries and I almost feel ashamed, as if I, myself, had done something to hurt these people. To hear of the horrors of war, one people killing and controlling another, and for what…land grab, slavery, political turmoil, religious differences…again, I am saddened deeply, that human beings can be so cruel. Perhaps my kind spirit feels tarnished in some way, perhaps in another life, I was here or suffered as these people. Sorry for the rant.
Take away the people and you’re left with the scenery, the raw nature, the dense jungle, muddy water and blazing hot sun. The smell of jasmine and wild ginger, sweet basil fill the air. The occasional herd of cattle, goats or water buffalo, and we even encountered two elephants playing in the shallows of this mighty river. What a gift that was.
The Mekong is a mighty river with powerful flows and jagged rocks and vast sandy beaches, holding it in place. The Mekong flows from Tibet 4,500 miles to the sea. It is the border of many countries throughout SE Asia, and has been fought over by more than one. The dark brown water bubbles and churns, almost bringing the boat to a standstill. It seems chaotic in its flows. In the monsoon season, it rises almost 40’, laughing at the rocks and sand as it consumes them as if in a great flood. Each dry season, a new riverbank is introduced, as the power of water transforms it. Waterfalls come out of the jungles, carving deep gorges in the sand, cascading over well worn rocks, finding their way back into the mighty Mekong River. In the mornings, the clouds blanket the hillsides as the sun attempts to burn through, one giving way to the other in the natural progression of things.
The limestone and granite display along the banks are often incredibly showy. If you look long enough, you will see a complete myriad colors, from purples, pinks, shades of whites, blacks and yellows. They pose an impenetrable barrier, often times hidden under the water. The local hill tribes use the cracks and crevices to secure bamboo poles strung with fishing nets or lines. Small flat bottom boats transport families and supplies, some using motors and others paddles and bamboo push poles. An occasional farm house, perched high on stilts with a crop of corn, rice or potatoes surrounding it, often planted on the rich sand banks deposited by the river during flood stage. You’re left wondering how they can live in, what seems to us, such harsh conditions. We are so privileged and spoiled.
Riverside gardensRiverside Hill Tribe VillageLocal fisherman
The sun has finally broken through and the cool breezes will soon be welcomed to all on board. The green foliage comes to life, some reflecting the brilliant sunlight and others creating dark shadows. The dark brown muddy water lightens up as it refracts the light as it pierces the surface. The sand glistens along the banks. It’s all so powerful and humbling.
Today we all boarded the bus headed for Bangkok, Thailand, bright and early. We have a 6+ hour ride in total, 3 to the border and 3.5-4 hours into Bangkok. We drew the lucky straw and got the 45 passenger bus for 14 of us. Plenty of room to stretch out.
It’s nice to get a really early start…most of the daily activities of the locals happens before the sun is blazing high in the sky and the humidity kicks in. As we roll past rice fields and farms, small road side stands, typical houses and the ocasional neat and tidy, brightly colored home, everyone is busily preparing for their day. Families out in the rice fields, wielding scythes and woven baskets, others walking behind their water buffalo with long, thin switches, herding them to the tall grasses and thick muddy fields. Women, with straw brooms, sweeping the dirt in front of their fruit stands. Children in blue and white uniforms, gather under large thatch roof structures, absorbing knowledge from the teachers. The bright saffron robes of the monks, collecting their offerings from the villagers and shop owners. Honking horns, motorbikes, buses and tuk tuks, dodging each other jockeying for their purchase of pavement, turning 2 lane roads into 3 or 4. Others take their place, swaying gently in their hammocks, observers of life as it passes by the hour. There’s a certain peace about the chaos.
I can’t help but to reflect on the last 3 days of diving into the history and religious culture. The archeological perspective of a hard past… pride and humility, defeat and triumph, war and peace, life and death. Ancient ruins, carefully extracted from the jungle that sought to take back its natural state. Temples built on the backs of slaves and beasts of burden. Time capsules of history. Places of sacrifice and enlightenment. Schools and places of deep worship. Inside the stone pillars and walls, etched with great talent and insight, these are the words and lessons of past masters, kings, and ancestors. The desire to reconstruct and refurbish the towers and galleries was quite evident as all around us men carefully removed huge slabs of deteriorating sandstone and others etching the past back into the replcements. The mastery and skill needed to recreate such revered symbolism is highly prized.
Cambodia has reclaimed its place in SE Asia. The entire society, for the most part, is young and full of vision. Every family has been touched by the hand of war and genocide. It was hard to visit S-21 Re-education camp, (Security 21, a re-purposed high school used to interrogate and torture those that the Khmer leader Pol Pot, felt was a threat) and one of the many Killing Fields, mass unmarked graves. To hear the stories from those who were directly effected and yet somehow survived the horror, was tear jerking. The emotional scars pouring out in quivering voices and sudden looks of horror as they recant their personal demons. A sudden and palpable silence falls on the room as we were told stories of tyrannical torture and degradation of an educated section of the population, through the eyes of our local guide. Something as simple as wearing eyeglasses could be your death, but not only of yourself, but friends, family and so many others. Over 3 million Cambodians died in a 4 year period, either at the hand of the Khmer Rouge regime or from starvation and disease as whole populations were forced into labor and out of their homes.
From here, there’s not much more to tell. A resilient culture, proud people, and a young nation, struggling to change for the better. A loving people, lead by Buddhist teachings of respect and kindness. Cities…new and bristling with growth and new infrastructure. A simple folk just living day to day with smiling faces.
Two Travelin' Chicas... 