As many of you know by now, I am making my way through the countries of Thailand, Laos, and Vietnam until July 5. I am currently in Laos, in Luang Prabang and am having an amazing time. Although I am melting slightly…

Coming to Luang Prabang was a bit of a culture shock coming from our last location of Chiang Mai. And then after our first day in LP, I had a bit of culture shock again.

Shonna (my traveling companion/cousin) and I decided to go on a hike/trek for our first full day in LP, guided by one of the hotel staff, Vaht (pronounced Wat). Vaht told us we’d be going on a 2.5 tour trek up the hills where we would stop at a small village and then have a 2 hour trek back down. He also told us we’d pick up some shampoo or soap to bring with us on the trek. When our car stopped at a small mart on our way to our starting point, Shonna and I were a bit confused about the soap situation (the general theme of this trip being confusion with what we’re doing on a daily basis) so we didn’t purchase too much (we didn’t want to carry it, let’s be honest). So we parked the car (about an hour from LP) and started our trek through the jungle. We passed some rice farmers and small huts on our way up. It was a challenging trek, and let me tell you being covered in deet and sweating from every inch of your body makes it even more of a struggle.

When we finally reached the village, we were approached by some small children covered head to toe in dirt. We had brought candy to give to them and would yell “conom, conom,” and hand them each a couple pieces. They were so beautiful and appreciative and not at all shy. Walking around the village we could see that everyone who lived there was wearing old clothes rarely washed, perhaps a pair of flip flops, and in general just very dirty. I suddenly realized why we needed the soap. Vaht told us we’d demonstrate how to use the soap for the children. I would attach pictures, but I look like I had just taken a shower so I will spare you from seeing me at my glossiest moment. After the demonstration we had each kid wash their hands for us, then after we saw their clean hands we gave them each their own bar of soap. The smiles on their faces grew so wide I couldn’t help but smile too. The sad fact is, they were happy to receive a bar of soap, something so minuscule I often forget how important it is to just have a clean hand to eat my food with, something I clearly take for granted on a daily basis.

We continued to walk around the village then walked a little ways further to the village of the Hmong people. The smaller of the two villages, these people lived similarly to the first – in bamboo huts, thatched rooves, dirt floors, and roaming livestock around the village. No running water or electricity are found at these villages, yet they actually have satellites for tv.

The little children are what shocked me the most. Almost half were wearing old ratty t-shirts and no underwear. After bringing over 600 pairs with us from the US, Shonna and I were upset to not have understood the need of these extremely poor people, and we didn’t get to bring any of the underwear with us on our trek. The biggest problem for these Hmong people is their health, and their inability to access a hospital or doctor when ill. 20% of their childbirth results in death (of either mother or child), we later learned, which was very obvious once we thought about mothers giving birth on dirt floors without any medical help.

While these people may not have soap or even toothbrushes, they are still very happy. In contrast with the touristy town of LP, the rest of the country is inundated with poverty, something many travelers may never know if they never leave the sheltered city center.

It’s hard to capture the simplistic beauty of a people who appear so poor but are so rich in culture, community, and life. They are content rice farmers, sustainable livers, growers, and families. They live in an amazing place surrounded by hills and greenery that took my breath away.

Vaht taught us a lot about the culture of the Lao people, as he came from a village another 2 hours away from the ones we visited. It’s only possible to access these villages by foot or by motor bike, so often times the people never even visit the city of LP and may never have left the hillside. We learned a lot about marriage and their spiritual religion and how peaceful these people are together.

It’s a shame comparing the United States with such a third world country where people are so much more content here than I could ever imagine those at home to be. This year I learned a lot about money and happiness, and how often times those who have more are not necessarily happier. Visiting the villages made that all the more clear to me. I want to give what I can, but knowing that it will never be enough. This trip to Southeast Asia was important for Shonna and I for many reasons, but our stumbling upon these villages made it all that more significant why we came.

We decided to give Vaht about 100 pairs of our 625 children’s underwear meant for the orphanages and he will give those out the next time he visits. There are over 400 people living in the first village and some less in the second, so I am sure that not all the children there will receive a new pair of underwear, but we are happy to help nonetheless.

We visited the orphanages today, Wednesday, and decided to put the remainder of the $1,800 we raised towards sponsoring 3 students who will leave the orphanage and attend university in LP. This will cover room, food, and their education for the next 4 years. Here in Laos, a small amount makes a HUGE difference, something I truly failed to realize until I got here.

It has been an eye opening experience traveling around this part of the world in only one week and I am eager to find out what is left to discover before we leave. Thank you to everyone who supported us with your donations and helped us get here. Your monetary and emotional support is invaluable, and has truly changed the lives of people here. We are so grateful.

Much love,
Sasha and Shonna

After I graduate from college, I will be traveling to Southeast Asia. Yep, in 48 days this girl will be done with education and making my way in the real world. As scary as that sounds, it’s even more comforting knowing that I don’t have a job or source of income or anywhere to live starting July 5! I’m not worry about all that ’til I get back, though…

Just kidding mom and dad! I’m excited to see what comes in the next few months and I’m making serious strides to get my ass up to San Francisco where I can start living there for real. After the past year and half of exploring the city I have fallen madly in love with, I realize it’s my time to take on SF in full force.

But before that is my next adventure to Thailand, Laos, and Vietnam with my cousin Shonna. We’re both so excited to explore a part of the world we have never experienced and more importantly, visit a place that was very special to my uncle Jeremy. Jeremy was closely involved with the Windhorse Foundation, which helps provide educational, financial, health related, clothing, and other forms of support to poor individuals in Southeast Asia. There are orphanages in Laos that Jeremy (and my parents) visited, and I wanted to make it there too and see why Jeremy was so connected to this place that he talked about so fondly.

Now I need your help. Instead of asking (or just receiving) graduation gifts, please consider donating to Shonna’s GoFundMe so that we can purchase underwear to take to the children at the orphanage. Shonna aims to raise $3,000 before we leave in honor of her 30th birthday and my graduation. Some of the money we will use towards underwear (there’s only so much we can carry), and the rest will be donated to Windhorse.

I feel beyond lucky that I have the opportunity to travel the world and see this amazing place that Jeremy loved. I can’t wait to share my adventure with you.

Here is Shonna’s link: http://www.gofundme.com/3000for30

Link to Windhorse Foundation: http://wdpf.org/

For those of you who knew my uncle Jeremy, and there were thousands around the world, there are many things you have all come to know about him. However, one would only need to spend a mere 10 minutes with Jeremy before you would learn all about: his chickens; couch surfing; how to cook one of the following: a whole pig, goat, or perhaps some small foul; a random fact about theater, celebrities, or some small grain of knowledge you’d never use again in your life; and perhaps possibly, how to properly set a kitchen table and clean a restaurant’s worth of dishes.

Jeremy was probably the only Sommer in existence to tolerate spicy food. He was one of the only people I’ve met who considered “regular ingredients” to be pomegranate syrup or a 50lb bag of whole wheat flour. He went grocery shopping for weekend trips and our family reunions like it was his last weekend on earth. He loved attractive Jewish male actors more than I did. He once made me cut down a tree outside his front house. A TREE. He had a “wine” collection that had turned into 70% vinegar. He once made me cry because he refused to take me to In n Out Burger. You couldn’t see the back of his pantry cabinets to save your life. And so many more ridiculous things that made Jeremy who he was…

Something happened between Jeremy and I during the last 8 months of his life – we realized we needed each other. Unlike before, I felt, our separate existences never needed to serve each other much of a purpose, besides our family reunions when I needed Jeremy to cook and he needed a mouth to feed. And during those last months, I tasted something that I had never truly come in contact with – this time it was bittersweet.

After hearing Jeremy’s diagnosis right before Christmas of 2012, the prognosis stated he had 6 months left. Jeremy made it to 8. And almost right up until the end, he still remained his true Jeremy self. At times, growing up, I didn’t know how to connect to my stubborn, loud, (and sometimes) obnoxious uncle, but when I came back to school this year, more than just our last name called us to be together.

When I came to visit Jeremy in January, he brought me to Glide for the first time. He may have been on his phone the whole time, but I know that over the past 25 years of him attending this church, Glide helped him find a community that would accept him no matter what. The mission of Glide is love unconditionally. While I had my differences with Uncle Jeremy in the past, I came to Glide letting go of my baggage, and embracing our differences, as well as our similarities. Coming to Glide with Jeremy is something I will hold sacred and special as I am sure many of his 50 couch surfers, family, and friends will as well.

Jeremy gave so much. He gave meals to the hungry (me), he gave shelter the poor (some couch surfers), and he gave until the very end. In fact, he is still giving. I look up to my uncle for being generous to the world: spreading culture, stories, laughter, food, and music. I look up to him for always being curious, for standing up to anyone, for being unique, and most of all, having a loving heart, although he may have had a hard time showing it.

I will miss my uncle deeply, in a way I couldn’t have ever imagined.

My mom asked me when I was home over spring break if I would post again soon on my blog. She said, “What, you don’t have anything important to say since now you’re back in America?” And I said, “Well… not really what anyone would want to read.” But in truth, I have felt hesitant since being back at school has felt so mild in comparison to the previous four months I had experienced while traveling the world. While talking with friends who are abroad now, I live vicariously through them, occasionally sending off an email or two with a list of my top Paris faves for their weekend getaways to my home away from home. The adjustment of being back after the first two weeks wasn’t bad, and now that I’ve gotten the routine down, I’m perfectly fine. But I’m starting to itch again, ready for my next Crazysash adventure. And not knowing what that will be or when it will come.

After missing almost every major family holiday for the past two years, I decided I needed to go home for spring break. I was in Paris for Thanksgiving of 2012, Visalia for 2011, as well as Passover in 2012. While I have loved spending my holidays in different places, there really is no place like home. Passover is a big part of my family tradition and this year was about to be the biggest (and baddest) us Sommer’s had ever seen. With my dad crankin’ out the Mr. Paul’s Matzoh Balls, and family coming from near and far, I just felt I had to be there to be part of the celebration. My mom wouldn’t let me give a speech before our dinner (because she wanted to hog the spotlight), but I was itching to tell everyone how thankful I felt to be sitting around the beautiful “O” shaped table full of  all my different families. My Sommer’s – two uncles, my dad, my aunt and her brother; Selby’s – my mom’s cousin; Ashley’s – family from Mercer Island, Seattle, and New York; and the Mercerwood Shoreclub Family – people I have spent every summer with since I was 8 years old. Just being “home” for the first time in so long felt like a Jewish miracle in and of itself!

This weekend, I got to participate in a new Passover tradition – a Gayder. Yeah, that’s a gay Seder. It has been an annual tradition for my uncle to host, but lucky for me, I scored an invite this year. Don’t worry, this Seder (as well as all Sommer Seders) was gentile (and non-gay) friendly. I spent my evening talking to Israelis, a German, a Turk, and I guess some Americans too. When I came back to school today, all my friends were telling me how they want to experience to one of these famous Jeremy hosted dinners, and I sadly had to inform them that table space is limited, plus I guess they have to be cute and gay to make the cut. Just kidding! It has been an emotional four months, but I know it’s a blessing in disguise that I have been able to spend as much time in San Francisco as I have been. While I regret not taking advantage (I mean, hey… it’s free food) long before, my life has been changed in a short amount of time by the people I have met, the love I have seen, and the true acceptance I have felt. I am lucky.

One of my favorite things I have done so far since being back has been going to Glide church in San Fran with my uncle and whomever feels like showing up Sunday mornings. My dad has come, my grandmother, my aunt and uncle, cousin, old friends, new friends, foreign friends, and so many more. This “church” is not what it sounds like. Glide stands for unconditional love. As I hear in the sermon every Sunday morning, you can come as you are to Glide. This community of complete acceptance is unlike anything I have experienced before, and the music is just an added bonus. Sharing Glide is like sharing love, without having to do any work. Here’s a link to a video from one of my favorite services I have attended this year.

So that’s what I’ve been up to this quarter. It has gone by all too fast, but I’m not looking back anytime soon.