July 5

Rain, rain, go away…
Though it has, in fact, slowed us down to
Appreciate the charms of this town
Which weren’t apparent the night we pulled in
And I thought it was an upscale 8th Street
Commercial Street P-town
Anytown, hippietown, tsochketown, cute
Now I’ve walked the narrow, brick-paved side streets in the rain
And studied the buildings—French Colonial meets Asian
Plaster and polished wood
I’ve left my shoes outside many doors
Shops
Restaurants
Temples
And a gym
Where I left my wet sandals by the door
But changed into sneakers in the dressing room
To work out in yet another foreign country
Hoping it will help me sleep at night.
Rain, rain, wet all day
Didn’t bike to the waterfall
Or take the boat to the caves
Or visit a Hmong village up in the mountains
Or trek in the countryside.
Didn’t even visit the museum in the royal palace yet
Twice we arrived when it was closing.
It’s across from our guesthouse.
Rain, rain, go away.
Did observe the procession of monks through town at sunrise
(What sunrise? Only rain.)
to collect alms.
Did drink red wine in the hotel lobby
And the hotel room
And finally read a few paragraphs of my book
And ate well. Again.
Cheddar and apple crepe for lunch from a street stall
And for dinner
watercress salad
fish steamed in banana-leaf ramakins to a custard-like consistency
chicken coconut curry soup
and fried morning glories—the green parts.
Feeling okay—knock wood
Though I’ve drunk the water
Eaten street food
Gotten bitten by Asian mosquitoes
Malaria (I’m taking a pill), Dengue (no pill available), and a host of lesser-known diseases
because
I can’t stand the bug spray.
Vein still swollen, but not as much.
Email from my doctor
It sounds like a superficial blood clot
You’re where?
Take motrin.
Traveling is a hypochondriac’s paradise.
Traveling is fun.