Last Call in Luang Prabang

DAY: 31
LOCATION: Luang Prabang

I got to Utopia Yoga Round Two right when it started at 6:30am. There were more yogis than before, so I had to place my mat off of the main deck space. The practice was just as fulfilling and the ambience still mystical, but the separation in space set the tone for the day.

After a breakfast of coconut pancakes and jackfruit, I sorted out my bus ticket to Vientiane the next day. I opted for the VIP Sleeper bus, a few dollars more for a reclined seat and included lunch. Seemed worth it, especially since it would be a ten hour trip.

While I figured the boys would be in bad shape, I waited until I heard from them to venture out for the day. Part of me really wanted to hear their hang over stories. Austin messaged me around 9. Sure enough, they were “hurting bad.” He was barely conscious and Jordan was going back to sleep. We agreed to touch base later.

I decided to check out the craftsman village Austin had told us about from his day alone. It required crossing the ricketiest bridge you’ve ever seen for a miniscule fee. As I put one foot in front of the other on the bamboo weaving, I marveled that such a thing could sustain any traffic at all. But it did, and I made it to the other side dry.

After passing by a pagoda I found the dusty main road of the village. It was very quiet, with just a few artists at work – weaving textiles, making paper, painting. I watched as a mother hen led her baby chicks through the dirt and litter.

I veered off onto a side street and followed it down to the river. A boat driver tried to sell me a river cruise to one of the popular tourist destinations. I declined, finding a smooth rock to meditate on instead. I felt alone, but not necessarily bad. Not like the previous summer in Yosemite, when I’d attempted to meditate on a rock overlooking Vernal Fall. I’d just had a massive fight with James, and we’d hiked up solo. No amount of natural beauty could calm the avalanche of emotion I’d felt then. A lot of our relationship had been like that. Intense, uncontrollable emotion.

Back in the village I entered a temple complex. I slowly circled the red and gold structure, with its three headed dragons guarding each side. Mind, Body, Spirit. Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Matter, Motion, Consciousness. The three aspects of existence. I smiled at a stoic monk staring at me from a window. What’s his experience of the world like? What sorts of emotion does he feel? I winced at my spiritual infancy, how much I was still controlled by my desires, how I could barely sit by the river for 15 minutes without my mind landing on men or food or physical discomfort.

I took the less scenic route home – the highway. The dust kicked up from the cars and tuk tuks, covering the banks of the road with a thin layer of burnt earth. Sweat pooled on my lower back. Somehow it seemed necessary to see this too, the piles of tires and rusted store fronts, the products of civilization. It made the riverfront that much sweeter. I crossed the bridge more slowly, more appreciative.

For lunch I returned to the same place we’d been the first day. I brought my iPad and began reading Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I snapped a photo to send to Levi later, once he had responded to my last text about coming to Switzerland. Could I do nothing in this world without an impulse to share it? Apparently not. I was reading it for him though, or rather, to learn more about him. And after only a few pages, I wanted to jump on top of him and pick his brain. Sigh. The burning desires produced by literature.

And massages. Jordan messaged me that he was alive and in need of a rub down. Lucky for him I had actually seen the other spa he’d wanted to try – The Peninsula – near the bridge. He met me at my hotel and we went together.

It was very… couple-y. They put us in a room together, assuming we were an item. We undressed with our backs to each other. As I laid down topless next to him, I thought how odd it was that nothing sexual had transpired between us, how he didn’t even seem interested. I liked this platonic connection, but my ego hated it. The part of me that needed masculine approval wanted to scream “but don’t you want to have sex with me?!” Even if I didn’t want to have sex with him. Twisted.

“Ha, this text from Austin – ‘are you guys done fucking yet?’” Jordan smirked as we left the spa. Somehow this made me feel better, adding to the twistedness. Like maybe there had been some conversation between them that had led to Austin thinking that. Oh man, I had a LOT of work to do around men. I probably needed to take a page from Jordan’s book and take a break. But not with Levi in the picture…

We shared a final meal at Rosella Fusion. They told me about their night, the bowling and the drinks and the foreigners that had left them obliterated in the morning.

“That was one thing I did enjoy when I took six months off of drinking last year, not having hangovers,” Jordan admitted. “But I hated how real it made everything.” It reminded me of the play A Loss of Roses, how dirty the world looked to Lila without alcohol. I thought of the tires and the trash along the highway.

“But isn’t reality what we seek ultimately? The truth, in all its beauty and ugliness?” I countered.

“Not right now,” Jordan replied. “I think too much.” I nodded. I certainly understood that.

“Yeah, I really don’t,” Austin said. “A lot of times my mind just feels empty as I observe the world. Like, I can just sit in a car and watch out the window for hours without having any thoughts.”

I looked at Austin. Until then I’d found him a bit naïve or bought in, but maybe I’d underestimated him. Maybe he was closer to the monk in the temple than I could’ve imagined.

We finished our curries and walked to the market to get fruit. Emotion started welling up as I bit into a mango. I didn’t want them to leave. I didn’t want to be back on my own. More than anything I didn’t want to never see them again. But I knew that would probably be the ugly reality.

“So I’ll give you a shout next time I come to LA?” Jordan said, hugging me.

“Def,” I smiled. “So awesome meeting you guys.”

They waved goodbye. I turned and walked down the alley, tears flowing. Why was I crying? Why was I so sad? I tried to analyze my response. But maybe I didn’t need to. Maybe like Austin it was enough to just observe, and then release.