Monkey Invasion

I continuously feel bad during my travels about not updating my blog more.  A couple of times I’ve thought ‘Well, I’ll just try and post little stories instead of these long drawn-out ordeals.’  Have any of you ever known me to tell a short story??  Yeah, that’s what I thought.  ::chuckle::  I guess I prefer to tell stories in person; there’s that added element of arm gestures and vocal tone you just can’t duplicate.  It’s what makes a Kira story a Kira story.  Plus I get to be such a perfectionist while writing that I’m constantly going back and adjusting my words so it takes forever just to get a paragraph down.  And then I sit on it for a while and feel the moment has passed to post it.  It’s no wonder people rarely have any idea where the heck I am in the world.  ::laugh::

But I have great news!!  Many of you will be able to hear these stories first hand!!  Yes, that’s right.  Monkey is coming to the States for a visit!!!!  ::happy dance::  When I found out one of my best friends was having her first baby, it was a given that I had to be there.  And obviously if I come back, I have to make the rounds.

Now I don’t have exact dates yet since plane tickets cost money.  Crazy, right?  ::grin::  But I’ve got tentative dates in mind and I’m just too damn excited not to share.  Hell, this all may change tomorrow, especially if people know of cheaper flights and such.  ::nudge nudge wink wink::  I’m looking at flying into LA around the 23rd of May and catch a connecting flight to Florida to spend time with my two siblings for their birthdays.  And then depending on baby dates, either a long weekend in Pittsburgh and then about 2 ½ weeks in Rochester, or flip it and go to Rochester first.  And then of course Wisconsin to see the parents, my other brother, and my adorable nephews.  I'm looking at heading back to Aussie around July 8th. There are other places I would love to visit if time (and money allows) such as Minnesota, Seattle/Portland, and NYC.  Guess we’ll just have to see!!

So mark your calendars people!!!  And prepare the couches and floor space!!  I’M SO FRICKEN EXCITED TO SEE YOU ALL IN A FEW MONTHS!!!

Prepare yourselves people!  It's gonna be a crazy ride!!
Photo property of Kira Zebroski

Side note:  I just re-read this thing and had to laugh at all the exclamation points.  Maybe I’ll need to change some to bold, capital letters to get my point across.  ::chuckle::

Chocolate Cake for Breakfast

It’s taken me a long time to post this particular piece.  I’ve come back to it periodically, but I was just never sure how to end it.  A good friend of mine pointed out the lack of a resolution.  She (and I) often write things out because we don’t have a resolution for whatever is on our minds.  Blogs need to have a resolution, a closing argument if you will.  So maybe this is why I’ve never finished it.  How can I finish something that has no conclusion?  No happy ending?  No ending at all?  So end it with a question, she suggested.  And I will.

October 10, 2015

I was eating chocolate cake today and a guy in my group made a joke about eating chocolate cake for breakfast.  Did I understand the reference, he asked.  Of course!  I still remember watching the standup of Bill Cosby with my family and the bit about feeding chocolate cake to his kids for breakfast.  The next question was if I thought Bill Cosby was really a pedophile.  Immediate response was No, he was a rapist; all of the women he raped were adults.  The guy then wanted to know if I thought it was all a “conspiracy theory.”  I don’t believe so and it made me frustrated to hear people think that.  When you have more than 35 women come forward with their stories, at what point do you finally believe them?  Should it even take more than one?  And then to have Cosby admit that he gave women Quaaludes to make them more pliable for sex.  Really?  And you still doubt them??  He seemed surprised by these facts.

The conversation then lead into consent and the mentality of sex then versus now.  He felt today’s society was more “prudish.”  This was his example of why.

Back then, a woman would smile at a man across the bar and he would think she was interested.  He’d come over to talk, see if anything connected, and maybe go home together.  Nowadays, if a woman smiles and you come over to talk to her, she’ll just lose her shit at you.  Tell you how dare you come over and assume she was interested.  It can go into ruining her evening and just all out of proportion.

This comparison doesn’t work because the difference of then versus now was the social support to say “I’m not interested.”  There’s more communication about consent and when it doesn’t happen.  In both cases, the woman may not be interested but back then, it was much more difficult to speak up.  Women would just go along with it.  This is the issue with the women coming forward about Cosby raping them.  Rape wasn’t something you talked about years ago.  Even in my family history, I learned about this social mentality and the effects on those it happens to.  

Yes, but it’s getting blown all out of proportion, he argued.  You know how football players smack each other on the ass after touchdowns?  One day, one of the guys is going to claim sexual assault because one of his teammates smacked him on the ass.  We’re going to have a big, tall football player claiming sexual assault.  This would just look ludicrous!  And my response is Why?  Why is it crazy?  Because he’s supposed to be big and tough?  That sexual assault only happens to women?  Men, women, anyone can be sexually assaulted.  It doesn’t have to be just sex; it can be touching and making lewd comments.  We don’t hear about rape, outside of it happening to women, very often but it does still happen.  Consent is universal.  And socially acceptable behavior does not equal right behavior.   I don’t believe society is becoming more prudish.  Rather, I believe the conversation about consent and being supported to be vocal when consent isn’t given has changed.  

I found a book written in the 60’s called The Art of Kissing.  It was geared towards instruction for males on how to kiss and included a rather disturbing section on how to first kiss a girl.  As the evening was ending, you should get the girl on the couch and position it so she is on the end so as to better keep her from getting up once you make your intentions known.  (I swear I’m not making this up.  I’ve read this section to so many friends, I practically have it memorized)  Find a way to position your arm over the back of the couch and down to her shoulders.  Use the typical yawn move or adjust the seat cushion. (and now for the kicker)  When you try to kiss a girl and she tries to get up, don’t worry.  Simply guide her back down to the couch and make your intentions clear.  If she tries to get up and cries out, don’t worry.  If she tries to get up, cries out, and starts to scratch at you, then start to worry.  This girl is not to be trifled with.  (And not because she’s not interested in kissing or any other sexual activity, oh no!)  This kind of girl still thinks babies are a result of kissing and isn’t ready to kiss.  

::face palm::

Is it really a surprise then, with material like this circulating, that women didn’t come forward about being raped?  And something like this doesn’t just go away.  It sticks with you.  Along with all the self-doubt, wondering if you had it coming.  If you could have done something different to stop it.  To be able to share your story takes so much courage because even with all the progress we’ve made, people are still met with victim-blaming and doubt.

I remember the first time a guy touched me inappropriately.  I was 14 and walking with my friend at a teen night event at the local amusement park.  A guy walked up behind us, grabbing my ass and putting his hand down my friend’s shirt.  He tried to talk with us, but we ran off and found my brother.  We told the police and I believe they talked to the guy, but nothing went beyond that point.  I remember crying; I felt so dirty.  And I kept wondering if I’d somehow been asking for it.  Had my clothes been too revealing?  I had been wearing jeans and a spaghetti strap top with the American flag on it.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned how to “protect” myself.  Carrying around pepper spray.  Putting keys between my fingers to use as a weapon when walking to my car.  Knowing that a pair of heels can be scraped down the shin if I get grabbed from behind.  Not making eye contact or in any way acknowledging catcalls or whistles.  Understanding that walking away is sometimes better when someone tries to cop a feel.  Laughing and smiling until I can get away because it’s safer than straight up saying No.  Pretending to have a boyfriend because it’s the only way some will back off.

Sometimes I stop and think Why did I need to learn these things?  How did I learn them?  Who taught me?  From a self defense class in Girl Scouts.  From a friend’s boyfriend who didn’t like the neighborhood I was living in.  From conversations with other women.  From social media.  From people-watching.  From personal experience.  And each of these lessons came with a price.

A few months ago I learned another lesson.  I free wrote a short paragraph afterwards and this is what came out.

A lot of times I let it brush off with the comments, but we'd as a group (several older gentlemen....or at least I thought they were) got into talking about how women are treated.  And how they should be given respect but aren't always treated as such.  And it was a shame and how can things change?  And then later one whispered how he had just one thing he'd like to know.  "how I tasted and if he'd get a chance."  He's married and traveling with his wife and a daughter a little younger than me.  And when another guy arrived (about my age) who was drunk and getting a bit belligerent, I saw them talking together.  I thought the older man was trying to calm the young one down.  Instead I heard him trying to coach the guy on how to get with me.  The guy also has a girlfriend.  A wonderful gal who later showed up looking for him because he'd just disappeared from their bungalow.  Anyway, hearing the older guy tell him things like "if you don't want to get with her, then I will." and "just look at her, you know what that's for?"  I just felt so dirty.  Called them out on it after everyone had left and it didn't perturb them at all.  Told them I could hear them and that I wasn't a piece of meat and they both have their partners waiting for them back at their rooms.  So torn with wanting to rip into them but they're guests here and while it doesn't excuse the behavior, I didn’t know if I could count on the support of my boss and not wanting to make a scene.  Realizing I wish I could have torn them a new one but calmly and I was just so hurt and angry.

My first year at Burning Man, there was an art installation called Truth is Beauty by Marco Cochrane.  It was this beautiful statue of a woman arching her back.  Around the base of the statue (she was more than 50 feet tall) was the question “What would the world be like if all women were safe?” written in many different languages.  There was a podium in front with a book of blank pages.  People had written their thoughts on the piece and the message it gave.  Me, I just sat on the Playa dust and stared up at her or at the foot of her, well...feet and watched her body change to different colors in the darkness.  What WOULD the world be like if all women were safe?  If we felt safe and confident enough to walk down a street with our heads held high but not surrounded by ice in our every step?  If we could dress however we wanted simply because it makes us feel beautiful and not second guessing if others will read it as an open invitation.   If we could just be present at any given moment and not constantly monitoring if the surroundings are safe, if the men around us could overpower us, if our words or actions could be misconstrued, if anyone would help should we need it.  If we as women could own into our power and not feel the need to stifle parts of ourselves because they are viewed as too forward, too unfeminine, too strong, just Too.

Photo Property of Kira Zebroski

What would the world be like if all women were safe?

And how do we make that happen?

And here are some links to articles I've found very helpful in stimulating a conversation:

Next Time Someone Says Women are Victims of Harassment, Show Them This

The Thing All Women Do That You Don't Know About

Shaving a head

So every once in a while, I feel the need to change things up.  And one of the ways to symbolize or even instigate that change is to do it physically.  As I'm not a huge fan of needles, tattoos and piercings aren't really my thing.  Instead I have my hair.  ::grin::  For many years, I've had really long hair, but with it being almost always up, the length is sometimes unknown by those around me.  Case in point: I once cut off about a foot of hair and a lot of people didn't notice right away including my Mom.  I still love you!!  ::chuckle::

Anyway, I've been itching to shake things up over the last few months.  I saw a girl walk past while sitting in a cafe on Koh Tao and she had a great mohawk hairstyle.  I'd seen variations of it around the islands but it hadn't really interested me.  Now...hmmm....Let's do it!  It's edgy and outside my comfort zone.  Perfect for my restless feeling.  Two nights later I was sitting in front of my dive shop with a friend and her husband's electric razor.

Making the first cut!

Can you feel the excitement?!

I'm so pretty!!

 I was grinning the entire time.  The owner of the dive shop would walk by and just shake his head.  I would like to point out I was sober.  I didn't have a beer until after we'd started cutting.  ::wink::  I happen to have a videochat with my Mom right afterwards and was really excited for her reaction.  What a let down; she hardly blinked.  But she did make a good point.  I've already dyed my hair purple and blue, left everything behind to backpack around the world, climbed questionable things at Burning Man, and made it through a hospital visit in Thailand.  Shaving part of my head wasn't even a blip anymore.  ::laugh::

I decided to first only shave a section of my head.  Work my way up to a full mohawk.  I liked the initial section.  I felt a bit punk and playful.  I was ready for my next adventure.  Over the next two months, I got my dive master and then started nannying for a family in KL.  I began feeling stagnant and ready for the next step.  Not just the next step.  I was ready to dive in head first, if you pardon the pun.  I'd been feeling, well, I'm not sure how to describe it.  I want to say unfeminine but it was more being asexual.  I didn't feel comfortable and confident in my own body.  I was stuck in a rut and having an overwhelming need to breakout.  Getting rid of all this hair would get rid of so much weight.  I once had a coworker tell me that my hair calmed my personality down; short hair would put that energy in people's faces.  She wasn't sure everyone could handle all that Kira.  I laughed at the time, but right now with this feeling of my personality being stifled I needed to get rid of anything blocking me.

In KK, just after I arrived.

Right before the big change.

I looked through numerous photos online and eventually fell in love with a look.  I was ready!  Now I just needed to get to someone who could cut it and have the money to pay for it.  Not as easy as that sounds.  Until one afternoon it just all came together.  Well, sort of.  The family and I were walking around a shopping area and saw a salon giving 15RM haircuts but only on the weekdays.  It's Saturday.  But then they remembered there was a barber just down the road who cut hair for the same price.  We'd already discussed that with the haircut I wanted, a barber could do it just as well as a stylist.  And I needed it cheap!



But of course it wouldn't be a Kira-story without adding some obstacles.  First I couldn't access the picture of the haircut because the internet connection was wonky.  Then it wouldn't download the picture so I tried to find it by searching online but remember what I said about going through a lot of photos?  Finally got the bright idea to message my friend back in the States I'd sent to the picture to and hope she was awake at 1am her time and could download the picture and send it through What's app.  Yeah...that happened.  ::laugh::

So armed with my picture and my purse, I headed to the barber.  Should have known this would be an experience as well.  It was in a back hallway of a mall with 3 little stations.  You put money in a machine and was given a card with a number.  When your number was called, a guy with a face protector would sit you down and prep you for your haircut with some toilet paper around the neck (not that unusual, I know) and the cape thing (no, I have no idea what it's called).

Getting in line

I loved every minute of it.  I couldn't stop grinning as he cut, shaved, and trimmed the majority of my hair off my head.  He was meticulous.  It was like watching a clockmaker make sure the gears worked juuuuust right.  I could feel so many of my worries, insecurities, and self-doubts lighten as my hair fell to the floor.  I got goosebumps as I watched the reflection of my transformation.

And then out came the vacuum.  I kid you not.  There was a vacuum hose attached to the wall.  He put it right to my head and sucked up all the little bits of hair on my scalp and around my neck and ears.  To go back to how good this barber was, he checked my haircut as he cleaned and ended up trimming a few spots.  Which meant he had to vacuum one more time.  And then I got a scalp massage as he styled my hair and adjusted strands just so with his fingers.  Talk about getting your money's worth!

A mother and her daughter came in just as he was finishing with me.  I was grinning from ear to ear and playing with my new do.  I saw her reflection in the mirror as she assessed and judged this new ?unfeminine? look and said "did you ask him to do that?"

"Yes ma'am, I did.  And I love it!!"

And it reminded me the importance of doing things for yourself.  As long as you love you, what does it matter of others opinions?  Especially something as malleable and impermanent as hair.  And so I walked away with a new jaunt in my step and swing in my hips.  I can't say I felt more feminine.  I don't think the cut makes me look girly.  I just felt new, fresh.  Like I'd sloughed off all the dead skin and was bright and shiny with a chance to make new choices.  And it floored me that something as simple as cutting my hair could have such an effect on me.  But I rejoiced in the simplicity of being able to get to that point.  And I look forward to making this energy snowball into bigger and better things.  You've gotta start somewhere.  This time for me, it started at the top of my head.

SO

MUCH

LOVE!!!

Side view

Da' back

I love this new do.  All I need is to figure out how to get the full-out mohawk and I'm good to go.  I'll update the post when I get some hair wax.  YEY!!!!

**Please Note: All photos are property of Kira Zebroski**

Finding my marbles

I know there's the old saying of "losing one's marbles."  It indicates the person is slowly losing their mind or has already lost it.  I personally always got a kick out of the reference in Hook when Toodles exclaims how he'd lost his marbles.  ::chuckle::

What does it mean then if you find them?

During my travels this last year, I've periodically found marbles in my path.  They've been in busy streets, sandy beaches, dirt roads on an island of 200 people, under beds of hostels I'm staying at, and piers when I get off the boat from diving.  The marbles come in different colors and conditions.  I once found a marble that looked whole; upon picking it up I discovered it was broken in half.  Another time I found a completely blue marble similar to one described in a book I'd been reading and later dreamt about.

I just found one last night walking down the main thoroughfare of Kota Kinabalu.  I don't know what they mean.  They could represent a lesson learned or an indicator of good things to come.  I just continue to collect them as I stumble across each one, wondering about its story and where it came from.

Photo property of Kira Zebroski

A Monkey and Her Backpack: a year in review (Part 2)

KOH PHANGAN

on the ferry to Koh Phangan

I arrived into Koh Phangan the end of September and I honestly didn't think I would be staying very long.  As fate would have it, I absolutely fell in love with the island and the opportunities that arose were ones I'd always wanted to explore: teaching contact improvisation, mediation, spirituality, diving, and so much more.  I felt the desire to immerse myself in this place and really explore the possibilities the island had to offer.  It was 7 months before I decided to leave the island and continue my travels.

In order to stay on the island, I of course needed some kind of income.  I didn't have much and I didn't need much; a roof over my head and food in my belly was sufficient.

who says you can't do CI at dinner??

The thing that inspired me to stay on the island was the ability to teach contact improvisation.  I ended up teaching an impromptu class when I met with Tatiana, the mutual friend of a friend.  The class loved what I'd done and asked if I could do more.  Tatiana was wonderful enough to let me stay in her place while I figured myself out on where I could teach and a job so I could live on the island.  I ended up teaching at two different locations as time allowed.  It's funny though, my first class was a disaster...no one came!!  I was frustrated but not discouraged and just took it as a learning experience.  Word spread and I had some lovely classes and jams while on the island.

my first poster I made as PR

working the bar on St. Patrick's Day

I ended up finding two very different job opportunities through two very different means.  I first found a bartending gig through a conversation Tatianta had with the owner of a resort while standing in line at the immigration office.  The only catch was I wasn't needed until the high season which started in the middle of December.  This was when I found the position of PR staff at a tantra/yoga school.  My job quickly became events manager and I took over bringing in and marketing new workshops and events at the school.  It was a rewarding and yet stressful job in major part because I was living at the school while I worked there.  As many of you know, I tend to take my work home with me as it is, so this was an even more difficult task.  I learned about many new types of meditation and healing and also about the lights and shadows of the spiritual community.  Unfortunately due to personality clashes, I cut my time at the school short and focused on self care and diving, a decision I don't regret.

Working at Seaflower Bungalows at their bar called Heaven (come on, who wouldn't love to say they get to work in Heaven every night?) located right on the beach, it was a relaxing and social job.  I met people from all over the world and perfected my caprinhia cocktail.  ::chuckle::  With beautiful beach sunsets every night and the occasional seafood BBQ, this was a dream job.  Like any bartending gig, the hours were crazy but I met so many people and built so many lasting relationships that staying up till 4am was well worth it.  I love my Seaflower family!!!

my first scooter!!

While on the island, I didn't just learn new things while on the job.  I also learned how to drive a scooter!!!  Cars aren't very popular in Thailand other than to transport goods and this is true even more so on the islands.  So Kira had to get on one of the back of these and eventually learn to drive so I wouldn't have to bum rides.  When I decided to stay on Koh Phangan for a while, I actually bought a scooter and then sold it at face value when I left again.  This is a pretty typical course of action for farangs staying long-term.

jellyfish sting my first day  :-(

motorbike accident and still smiling

Now an adventure wouldn't be an adventure without some physical mishaps on my part.  I tried to keep things on the down low until I'd recovered so as not to freak out the parents.  Shhhhh!!!  But they know I'd tell them if anything major was going on (right Mom and Dad??).  Anyway, true to form I was stung by a jellyfish my first day on Koh Phangan about 10 minutes after getting into the water for the first time.  Of course no one knew had to actually handle stings (including the locals running the front desk of my hostel) so I just waited it out and listened to music to distract from the pain.  NO, people!  I did NOT let anyone pee on me.  ::chuckle::  The air con at the 7/11 became my best friend and I actually went out dancing that night at the jungle party.  The jellyfish stings made for some pretty cool designs as it healed too.

Next was the UTI from hell which you can read in my other post Always an Adventure.  I then got in a motorbike accident a few weeks after buying my bike in late October.  Luckily it was just me involved but it was still a scary situation.  My brakes froze going down a steep hill that had a sharp turn and lots of gravel around a hole where construction had been happening earlier in the month.  Basically all the cards were stacked against me.  I was going down; it was just a question of when.  I had never been so grateful to contact improv with learning to fall correctly as I naturally protected my head and expanded my surface area when the bike finally tipped.  I had a lot more scratches but not nearly as deep if I'd had a small point of impact.  The worst was my side where the gravel shredded my skin.  I have a nice Koh Phangan tattoo now to show off when I wear my bikini.  ::chuckle::

birthday celebration at the Chocolate House

the closest I could get to a turkey on Thanksgiving

New Year's Eve buffet YUM!!!

Being abroad also meant celebrating the holidays island/Thai style.  I think the hardest part was not being around my friends and family during these different moments.  I made some wonderful friends but there is something to be said about family traditions at Christmas and a night on the town with my gals on New Year's Eve.

I also celebrated local festivals such as Loy Krathong, Songkran, the Colormoon Festival, and of course the infamous Full Moon Party.  You can read about my crazy experience in the bodypainting competition at the Colormoon festival HERE.

Many people confused Loy Krathong with the light festival which occurs in Chaing Mai around the same time.  This festival is also known as the floating lights festival, giving thanks to the ocean which provides so many gifts to the island.  We each light lanterns made from wood or coconut shells, decorated with banana leaves, flowers, and incense, and release them into the water.  You are supposed to leave a little of yourself with the lantern as part of the gift (a bit of hair, a fingernail).  With the intention to let go of the past and make a wish for the future, you set out the lantern in the present.  It was a beautiful experience both in having my own lantern and sharing this festival with locals and travelers alike.

Songkran is the Thai New Year and is celebrated with water... a lot of water.  I don't have many pictures from it.  In fact my camera had an unfortunate incident in which my dry bag sprung a leak.  ::sad face::  It still works but I can't use the display anymore.  Anyway, the water is meant to symbolize washing away the past year and starting fresh.  In present day, it has become an opportunity to use water guns, buckets, and hoses to soak those around you.  It doesn't matter if you're on a scooter or just walking down the street; NO ONE is safe!  ::laughs::  Locals will also mix water with a colored corn starch base and swipe on your face as a kind of blessing.  It was a great time even with the rain (the universe's joke on a day of water games).

my lantern for Loy Krathong

3rd Full Moon party

my first Full Moon party

body painting competition at the Colormoon Festival

Diving was something I've wanted to do for many years but despite my many wanderings, I've never lived near large bodies of water.  ::chuckle::  So living on a tropical island and near the top dive site in the Gulf of Thailand, I could finally take the plunge.  ::grin::  I went to Koh Tao for a week to get my Open Water certifcation.  It's known as the island to go if you want to dive and this monkey is always up for an extra adventure.  As recommended by a friend, I trained with French Kiss Divers.  I also want to send out a massive THANK YOU again to all of you who helped make this experience possible.  It was one of the most surreal, soul-inspiring experiences of my life.  To be underwater with a feeling of weightlessness, surrounded by brightly colored fish and coral, and the peaceful silence of only your breath in your ear....it was a practice in meditation I plan on doing as much as possible for as long as my body allows.  The dive shop was excellent and I highly recommend it to anyone looking to learn to dive while on Koh Tao.  Will, Oz, and the rest of the gang made my stay truly special and I was sad to say goodbye, but my new bartending job was calling.

my group with French Kiss Divers

Photo courtesy of Ian Hamilton Photography

Back on Koh Phangan, I started diving with Haad Yao Divers.  I discovered micro diving; nudibranchs and shrimp get me about excited as a giant school of barracuda!!  My fellow divers just sometimes just shake their heads with a grin.   I eventually was also able to get up to my Rescue Diver certificate when money and time allowed.  The more I have been in the water and shared the experience with friends, I've realized I want to do this professionally and slowly (much slower than I'd like!) I am working towards owning all of my own equipment and getting the training I need to work in a dive shop.  Even a bad day of diving is better than a great day in the office.  ::grin::






I had many other adventures during my time on Koh Phangan.  A group of us climb to Khao Ra, the highest point on the island.  A 3 hour hike through a jungle and probably the most interesting aspect was wearing shoes for the first time in 4 months.  I had blisters for weeks!!  I also introduced locals and travelers alike to jello shots (or jelly shots as Europeans call them).  It's rather funny to share these during my travels and see each person's expression.  ::chuckle::

JELLO (JELLY) SHOTS!!!!

Fire show on Sairee Beach, Koh Tao

Khao Ra, the highest point on Koh Phangan

While on Koh Phangan, I also had to do 2 visa runs to Penang and 2 visa extensions on Koh Samui.  You can read about my first adventure to Penang HERE My second time was eventful in a different kind of way.  By a random series of events, I missed getting to the visa office on the first day by 2 minutes and so had to stay almost a week instead of the planned 3 days.  On the bright side, it gave me an opportunity to explore Georgetown a bit more.  I also met some wonderful locals who took me for a few nights on the town.  Let me know if you want more details on those crazy nights.  ::wink::

Trying to figure out where we are.   Penang, Malaysia

Penang, Malaysia

Penang, Malaysia

Unfortunately my time on Koh Phangan drew to a close in April as the high season ended.  I had found a new love of diving and wanted to pursue it further.  I was also ready to move on and experience more of what the world had to offer.  It was a hard decision as I'd made many dear friends on the island.  My final night was a celebration of getting my rescue diver certificate, another diver getting his DM, and my goodbye to the island.  There were a lot of drinks, seafood to put in the belly, and even some slightly drunken tap dancing (I still need to put up the video).  ;-)  And as tradition of the island, I lit my first and last paper lantern.  And in typical Kira-fashion, I also broke tradition by having all the friends around me help to send it off.

my "goodbye lantern"

And so my stay on Koh Phangan ended.  I was off to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to figure out my next move.  The world was once again my oyster and Monkey was hungry!!  Stay tuned for Part 3 to catch up on the remainder of my first year abroad.

**Please Note: All Photos are Property of Kira Zebroski**
unless credited otherwise

A Monkey and Her Backpack: a year in review (Part 1)

It's hard to believe I left the United States 1 year ago. And 13 months ago I left my home for the great unknown. I've met so many new people, experienced so much, and continue to be in awe of this adventure I call my life. I wanted to do a review of my travels so far as much of my blog as holes in it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did experiencing it.

On August 15th 2014, I left Rochester, NY with the boxes containing all that remained of my belongings, my Burning Man bag, and my backpack that would be traveling with me for the foreseeable future.  It was terrifying, thrilling, and daring.  I was literally leaving everything I knew behind to discover answers to questions I didn’t even realize I wanted to ask.  

bonfire at my going away party

I stopped for a night in Ohio with my good friend Grafton and we danced the night away. In Wisconsin, I spent my few remaining days with my parents, nephews, and one of my brothers, not knowing when next we'd see each other. I also made it in time for my high school friend's wedding, fulfilling a promise I'd made one year ago.

friends for more than a decade!!

From there, I traveled to Reno for Burning Man. How could I miss the chance to go Home one last time (until I come back for a visit of course!)? This burn was filled with as many hellos as it was with goodbyes. I expanded my family, fell in love, and learned to release from my Martha-Monkey tendencies and be present in the moment.

night the Man burned

 

this is why they call me Dome Monkey

Next stop was San Francisco and staying with two fantastic friends, Poppy and Maurice.  I couldn't have spent my decompression days and getting ready for Thailand with two better people.  Playing music under a bridge, sake tastings, beaches and kayaking with porpoises, seeing the Golden Gate bridge at night, quarter machines, and good beer.  Thank you for giving me crash space and such loving company.  I love you two!!!  Lovelovelovelovelove!!!!

Golden Gate bridge

the Trio!!!

brief detour to OR

my last sunset in the US

I flew into Bangkok on September 16th with no clear idea of where I was headed.  I spent a few days just taking it all in.  I ate food so spicy I cried, but so tasty I couldn't stop until I'd finished it.  I ate bugs, drank my first bucket (and then maybe a few more), and experienced a pingpong show.  ::shakes head with a smile::  Those were some talents I didn't even know existed.

our very first bucket (gone in about 10 seconds)

I couldn't bringing a tent and sleeping bag with me all the way to Thailand and not go camping.  Therefore, Khao Yai National Park and I had a date together.  It involved a lot of walking and the occasional waterfall when I wandered far enough.  My first time in an open jungle and I certainly had a few different moments when I wondered just what the hell I'd been thinking camping where there were free roaming elephants, boars, crocodiles, monkeys, and the occasional tiger.  And here I though my biggest fear was going to be leeches.  ::chuckle::

taking in the scenery

my first wild elephant!!  I saw him on a night safari

Continuing up the Northeastern portion of Thailand (also called Isaan), I made it to Phimai, a small little town boasting an ancient Angkor temple Prasat Hin and Sai Ngam, Thailand's oldest and largest banyan tree.  I was fascinated by how so many of the doorways lined up at Prasat Hin and this was my first experience with the ancient temples I'd only read about in books.  Sai Ngam was a quiet place (I had it all to myself as I wandered) except for the evil geese who chased me up a path.  ::grin::  My inner monkey wanted to swing among the natural walkways on the top level but I could sense the peace and sacredness of this place.

Sai Ngam

Sai Ngam, outer view

Phimai Historical Park

Next stop was Surin although I was given a bit of a surprise when the hotel listed in my backpacker's guide had closed.  ::chuckle::  I still managed to find a decent crash space.  Note to the wise, they will often charge an extra 50b to have a tv in your room.  Who honestly needs it when there's things like Prasat Hin Phanom Rung to see?  Another Angkor temple, but this one rivaled Phimai in size alone.  The walkway up the temple was perhaps the best part; it represented the bridge from the mortal realm up to the spiritual realm.

walkway to the heavens

  

During this time, I was searching on helpx.com for a volunteer opportunity to stay in Isaan; however, I wasn't having much luck.  I liked Northeastern Thailand as it wasn't a particularly popular backpacker's area and oftentimes I was the only farang around.  I had women call up their daughters for the sole reason being so I could talk to them in English.  My first train ride ended in my entire car waving and taking pictures of me as I exited the train.  I liked being off the beaten track but it didn't seem like it was meant to be.

I recieved an invitation from a friend of a friend to visit her down south if I ended up that way.  I had made tentative plans with some friends I'd made in Bangkok to meet up in Southern Thailand so I decided to head down a little early and meet this mutual friend.  Who knew it'd have such a lasting impact?

Wat Pho, housing the Reclining Buddha

Wat Pra Kaew, housing the Emerald Buddha

First I had to head back down through Bangkok and stopped at Wat Pho, a collection of Buddhist temples housing the largest reclining Buddha and also the largest collection of Buddha images in Thailand.  It also contains Wat Pra Kaew, the Emerald Buddha.  There was a Buddhist ceremony going on while I was there and I sat for some time just letting the chanting wash over me.  It felt inappropriate to take a picture with the monks and so I just took a photo to remind me of that moment.

From there, I took first overnight train down to Surat Thani and a ferry to the island of Koh Phangan.  Check out my time there on "A year in review Part 2."

**PLEASE NOTE ALL PHOTOS ARE PROPERTY OF KIRA ZEBROSKI**

OR CREDITED TO OWNER