Biography
I’m a writer, artist and travel enthusiast with a nose for adventure and stinky cheese. When I was in second grade, I decided I wanted to learn French, and followed that desire all the way through my University education. A stint at Université Jean Moulin in Lyon allowed me the opportunity to travel extensively in France and particularly Rhone-Alpes, where I ate my way through character-shaping experiences and learned first-hand why the regional motto is "Tout est bon dans le cochon". My early passion for culinary and cultural exploration was the foundation for what has since grown into an insatiable need to travel the world and encourage others to do the same. I have worked as a writer and editor for PR Magazine, Eloquence Magazine and the Tourism Authority of Thailand publication “Thailand 50 Great Green Escapes”, promoting sustainable tourism. "50 great Green Escapes" took me all over Central and Northern Thailand, where I immersed myself in Thai history and culture and realized that this is what I wanted to spend my life doing: spreading the word about all the spectacular and important things that are out there for us to see, hear, taste, smell and touch. My poetry has been published in the Interpretations Gallery juried show 3 years running. Currently, I'm the chief copywriter and content strategist for Veterans United Home Loans in the Heartland of the USA. I'm passionate about sustainable travel, education, the arts and the human experience. I want to see the world and live to write about it.
Samples
The night is pitch black when we arrive at our host Jam’s house. The cozy room she’s set up for us lets the cool breeze in through two open windows, and it smells richly of wood and rain. Happy to set down my bags and rest my eyes, I fall asleep quickly. In the morning after a huge, delicious breakfast we sit on the veranda adjacent to the open living space drinking 3-in-1 coffee. Instead of rising from our cups, steam rises from the lush gardens surrounding Jam's beautiful but modest traditional-style home. In the light of day we see the house is bordered with rows of rubber trees to the side, and the front yard is entirely dedicated to produce. We identify spiky pineapples, bananas, corn, peppers, green beans and peanuts from where we sit, and realize much of what we’ve just enjoyed for breakfast was grown right here. A narrow canal makes up the rear border of the property. We’re watching Patuap gather leaves from the banana trees growing along the bank when the sound of rustling branches pulls our gaze out a bit further. We glimpse a familiar face through the trees; Noy calls a chipper “Good Mooorning!” to us then makes his way across the canal toting a white five-gallon bucket. He’s dressed for adventure in a wide woven palm leaf hat and turquoise rubber boots. Patuap drops her leaves in his bucket and they both make their way up the stairs towards us. Coffee in hand, Noy shows us how to strip off the first few layers of the leaves, creating a thin but strong waterproof material. Today we’ll be using these banana leaves to pack and carry our picnic lunches when we visit the area’s arterial canal, huai raeng, or “canal of the vultures”. Patuap and Jam have been working in the kitchen, and join us carrying a beautiful spread of food- fried rice, cucumbers, salted egg, cashews, candied fish, yams, and pineapple. We pack our lunches, gather our gear then load into the back of Jam’s Toyota truck. The road to the canal winds through rubber tree plantations, narrowing slightly as we enter a patch of land packed with short fruit trees. Jam parks to the side of the red dirt road and we start down a path in the direction of the sound of rushing water. Equipped with burlap sacks, we walk and talk, stopping to pick up trash along the way. Finally we approach the bank of the canal, eager to cool ourselves off with a swim. Nim, Nem, Nat and Pompoo arrive just after us, all giggles, tumbling down the hill four abreast. We squeal with pleasant surprise as we wade in and feel the cold water rush against our legs. The force nearly sweeps us away, so we cling to vines, trees and each other. After some struggling against the current, we settle into the branches of a large mangrove tree growing out of the canal. This tree, as well as several others along the bank, is adorned with a narrow swath of orange fabric. Noy says the local people tie these around the trunks to signify that monks have blessed them, sending a message that they are not to be cut down. The roots of the trees help to prevent the current from washing away silt from the bed of the canal. Feeling sufficiently refreshed, we all take a seat on the bank and open our lunch packs. While we eat, Bow translates as Noi, Noy and Jam explain the importance of the canals to the success of local agriculture. The waterways feed into the ocean, and their salt-water content is affected by the tides. The resulting change in soil nutrient composition allows farmers to specialize crops depending on the time of the year, producing fruits that tend to be superior in flavor and appearance. Eager to try some of these superior fruits for ourselves, we dry off, toss our biodegradable lunchboxes and head back to the truck for a tour of Noy’s organic orchard.
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Blog entries by Chandra Mossine
Breathing Mantra 1 (17/08/2016)
Work/Life (09/06/2016)
Snake Oil Sells the Economy (09/06/2016)
Entropy (09/06/2016)
Artifact (09/06/2016)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/chandramossine
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