I was drawn into a world of Thai-boxing monks riding horses through the golden hills near the Myanmar border—rescuing orphans, teaching dharma, and helps build healthy communities in a region deeply affected by drug trafficking.

Cultural relativism invites you to travel with open eyes and an open heart. Every culture holds wisdom — not just in its grand philosophies, but in the way people grow food, raise children, handle silence, celebrate, grieve, and make sense of the world. With this lens, you won’t just return with souvenirs — you’ll come home with insights you won’t find in any Western textbook.

Somewhere between the back alleys of Bangkok and the bamboo hills of northern Laos, I lost something. Or maybe I found it. Myself, perhaps? Or the self I used to be. Either way, I never came home the same.

"Hey you! What are you looking for? Taxi? Maybe a cute girl?" A local guy materializes from an alley in Da Nang, Vietnam. I had planned a quiet night of Vietnamese potato chips and bad hotel Wi-Fi. The universe had other ideas.

If the gods of gastronomy were to throw a dinner party, I’m fairly sure the Thai kitchen would be responsible for the menu—a fever dream of lime leaves, chili heat, fermented funk, and coconut calm. Eating in Thailand isn’t just a way to refuel. It’s a full-contact sport, a ritual, a social glue, and occasionally a dare.

This is the story of a journey through five of India’s Seven Sisters. Of rice wine toasts and jungle bathrooms, of mountain roads, roadside wisdom, and sacred traditions whispered over campfires.

I woke to the sound of Kong’s voice outside my window. Kong is my neighbor and one of the few people in the village who speaks a bit of English. He’s also taken it upon himself to be my unofficial cultural translator. (You’ll hear more about him. Think of him as my spiritual guide through mud and chili sauce.)

Imagine this: You're deep in the Laos countryside, far from the comfort of civilization, when your stomach sends out a distress signal—loud, urgent, and non-negotiable. Yesterday’s suspiciously spicy soup is staging a full-blown revolution. If you don’t act now, you’re going to crap your pants. What do you do?