Alright, here's a story for you.
So I'm teaching in Thailand. English. That's right I am one of the new breed of nomads, travelling the world and teaching because a.) 1.I enjoy teaching, 2.I enjoy children, 3.I enjoy learning and b.) 1.I love to travel and 2. not only travel but learn a new place, spend more than a few days there.
Sidenote:
It really is amazing how many people are doing the same thing that I am, it becomes redundant almost. There is a real class distinction in Bangkok: Those who live and work here in Thailand by teaching and those who live and work here in Thailand by doing other jobs. Those who fall into the latter category inevitably look down upon the teachers. They believe that existing in that limbo between "traveller" and "career" is distasteful and that the teachers are only here to get theirs and boot, to not (in their, the career-ed) participate fully in the expatriate culture.
Interestingly enough I meet more expatriate non-teacher workers who do their damnedest to insulate every aspect of their lives from Thailand than I do teachers. Given, I do meet my fair share of drunkard teachers who are only here because they couldn't be elsewhere, and those type are disappointing. They are stealing from everyone, really. The kids, the government (thai), and the unsuspecting, open-minded people who strike up conversations with them only to later turn away in embarrassment as they loudly proclaim (well, howsa about drunkenly shout) at some French people: "Have you ever been to the Moon? Have you? Well?! So Shut-up! We've been to the moon! Until you get to the moon, shut-up!"
Awesome.
Mainstream:
So I'm teaching here in Thailand up in the Central Northeast in a city called Nakhonratchasima, or Korat or Khorat. Its all the same same.
I am in my class, it is full of about 40 thai kids, and it is set up like any class. Teacher at the front, good kids and really bad kids who teacher moved there sitting at the front. Normal kids, the good kids who got displaced by the really bad kids sitting in the middle, and the bad kids, plus one or two really smart kids who want to blend in sitting in the back. I'm a mover too, I stroll around the class, constantly walking, it keeps everyone on their toes. And I'm loud, I gesticulate wildly and often will stop to act out a scene by myself if I feel it deserves it, "The kids hit the pinata again and again until the candy popped out..... No? Nothing? Okay, let me show you....."
So anyways, it is a young class, M.2., which means 14 years old or so, and I love the girls who sit up front. They are the best. Whenever I am getting discouraged by the punks in the back or the blank stares from the middle I know I can stroll front right and have a willing participant, a ready answer. I can stroll front left and discussion, queries, thought and opinion. Plus alot of them have a crush on me, so they're all doe-eyed. It is a beautiful confidence booster, and one which I have to use sparingly, or else the bad kids truly will revolt and the good kids will slide bad.
So I'm working on enunciation in co-operation with Natural disasters. 'The Tsunami slammed down on the town." "The tornado tore through the city", really hitting each syllable clearly and enunciating like a opera hall performer trying to reach that back row. I have them repeat and move around to weaker areas, showing them where the glottal stops are, and the palatal hits, working on their fricatives (bio labial and labio-dental being the hardest from them). I do this by drawing my tongues back from my teeth, opening my mouth as wide as possible and exaggerating everything with my lips and tongue, all the while pantomiming my tongue with my hand. "TTT--hhe sssSSSOOOO NAAAmmee sssllllllAAAMMMMMd...." I exhaust myself, but (as you probably imagined) am having a really good time because of how ridiculous this is and how effective.
Then it happens:
I swing back up front right, need to feel some love, because I am just about to hit the "Blizzard blows bitterly", a tongue twister that throws the thai mouth into fits. I lick my lips and swing my arms back, pop out the chest and draw back the lips, prep the tongue and go "The BLI ZZZard BBBlowwss Biittterly" and with each hard hit, each B, every Z, I watch spittle come spraying out of my mouth and plummett towards one of my cherished front right girls. Plummet and impact. Boom! Boom! Boom! "BBBlllooowss...." Boom! Boom! Boom! "BBBHBBBBBiiiBBhhhittterllly..." Boom! Boom! Boom! And with each speckle of spit that splashes against her face the girl does nothing.
Not a squeak.
Not a sound.
She sits with her hands folded atop her desk, still making eye contact with me, urging me on, pleading with me to finish soon.
As the blizzard ended and the last pinprick of spit graced her cheek I thought that time had frozen. I replayed each involuntary spasm throughout the shower. How her right eye twitched in time with stresses in the sentence as if it independently anticipated the damp lesson it foretold. How her neck rebelled ever so slightly and pulled her head back before her own willpower reasserted itself and pushed it back into proper posture. The way that her neck muscles contracted and relaxed on the same side as her eye, playing a half step beat in between each other.
I then just about died from laughter. It was too much. I whipped out my handkerchief and proffered it to the child, apologising profusely through my chortles. Once the children realized that I too thought it was hilarious everyone joined in, even the freshly baptized girl. I pantomimed it, they pantomimed it, and we all will never forget, 'The blizzard blows bitterly".
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, November 2, 2009
Holy Moses its been a spell
Since I have actually sat myself in front of a computer with time enough, or desire enough, or drive enough, to actually update this window into my world. Now, it has nothing to do with how much I love and miss everyone back home, i.e. not enough to remain vigilant on my interweb postings, as much as how easy it is to get absorbed into the here and now-ness of Thailand.
To explain further, Thailand is a Buddhist country, or more accurately it is an animist country that adheres to Buddhism in a superficial manner out of fear that other countries would poke fun at it if it stood up and said, "You know what guys? I'm animist!" I can just hear Laos chiming in, "Oh, and you said you were so much better than us, 'Thirty years ahead of ya old Laos', you said, and yet here you are finally accepting that we are the same same, but different." Then you'd hear a nasty smirk from Malaysia, "Never believed it for a second Thailand. Not for one second. Why don't you just keep eating pork and believing that everything has a spirit. What are you? George Lucas?" Burma would remain silent, but would think that is was okay because as long as Thailand didn't bother them they could do as they please. Cambodia would be too busy trying to root out the evils of Sinookville and Phnom Phen to even comment, and Indonesia would view themselves as too good to even deign a response.
Where was I, oh yeah, Thailand takes things from Buddhism that it likes, one of which being the belief that everything is impermanent. Now, this is not a bad belief, you hear in all major religions. However I think Thailand has taken this just because it makes things so much easier for planning. You simply don't. "What is tomorrow? An idea, an uncertainty. I can kind of say that i will do this tomorrow, but that is really an abstract idea in all honesty. Have you eaten yet? I'm hungry now." And then, days, weeks go by, but they are days nor are they weeks, they are simply strings of today, and one today they say, "Oh yes, let's get this done NOW!" It took a little bit of time for my silly Western self to acclimatize to this style. I'd always be like, "So, do you know what you're doing next weekend? Wanna plan a trip?" or, once I secured a job teaching, "Do you know my schedule for tomorrow or next week so I could work up some lesson plans?" After incredulous silence, filled by Thais trying to figure out how to say that it was stupid for me to plan anything because that is really betting on a future that doesn't yet exist, I would get noncommittal answers due to the fact that it would embarrass me to be told the aforementioned thought, and embarrassing to the Thais to just out and out say that they did not have any idea. This, somewhat predictably, has led to some situations that others, less in tune to the Thai style of time, would called tension-filled.
"Oh, I have to get all of those documents, pictures, and notarized forms to you by four pm? Oh no, no problem, it's only 230, I got tons of time.... Oh, I have to teach five classes today and give a test I have yet to write? Oh no, absolutely no problem, lemme just get an idea of what they have been studying." It took me a few todays strung together, but I have slowly grasped the idea and belief that everything in Thailand happens now, at this moment, and so here I am, now writing to all of you, and I hope your todays have found you well.
(Oh very quickly and with not nearly enough detail that it deserves, Animism is the belief that everything possess a spirit of some kind and as such should be revered, respected, feared, etc. You'll see these tremendous bodhi trees, I mean truly tremendous, encircled by brightly colored ribbons in the middle of Bangkok and surrounded by spirit houses because no one in their right mind would chop down a tree like that, it is really neat. Also today in Thailand is the festival of Loy Kathong. Kathongs are banana leaf boats shaped like crowns and (ironically as you'll come to see in a second) most often formed around a cake of Styrofoam. These are then anointed with incense, candles, and sometimes coins as offerings and floated down the nearest major waterway, like a canal or river, or stream. They reason they do this is to make amends for the terrible way they treat the water for most of the year. the Kathongs are supposed to gather the bad spirits from the water and take them downriver with them to...... well Cambodia and the ocean I suppose. The Thais really do love their water, they understand it is life sustaining and extremely important. However they still do not have any sort of emission controls, they dump basically everything into the water, and even their apology is Styrofoam filled. I don't know, I love them so much, but sometimes they do what I feel are silly things.)
Anyways, since I last spoke to you I have spent 3 weeks down in Phuket living the island life and spent roughly another week in Bangkok and then 4 fun filled days in Laos at Vang Vieng for my second time down the river. I am now in Nonthai, Nakhon Ratchasima, Thailand and here I shall stand until March. That is due to the fact that I am now somewhat gainfully employed as a teacher of English to the smiling faces of school Nonthaikhuru-upatham, a high school with just 27 shy of 2000. I teach M. 2, 4, and 6 which is the equivalent or Grade 12, 10, and 8. Today was my first day (at thsi school and teaching highschoolers) so i cannot really tell you how it is. I mean today was fun, but first days are always fun. New faces, new routines, new difficulties, the attractiveness of the new, you know? I'll be able to give you a more solid feeling a month or so of todays down the road. I am living with three other teachers, one of which is a dude from bellingham by the name of Cain, the other is a librarian at my joint whose name I still have trouble with, I think it is Pra-reab, and the last is the head director of another school going by the name of Sawat Jantra, which means Luck, Beautiful Luck in Thai. I also live with two students from my school, kid named Top and kid named Man. This is a slightly interesting situation due to the fact that Cain and I are struggling with this silly Western notion of personal space and privacy which frankly do not exist here, and so have been searching out places to stay in nearby Korat, a.k.a. Nakhon Ratchisima. Korat would be ideal because it is only 20 k away and is the fourth or fifth biggest city in Thailand. This would give us that layer of anonymity that we desire. We are kind of "The White Guys" here in Nonthai. Eyeballs on our every move. I mean, I understand this, I have experienced this in my travels previous, and I sincerely believe it is an important thing for anyone and everyone to feel, being the 'other', the extreme minority. But I would appreciate Korat much more. This too is way to early in the today to predict how things will turn out so ask me later.
Well, not only is it Loy Krathong, it is also my own father's birthday so I am hanging it up here to give him a call via skype. I love the interweb and technology.
Much love,
Hope this finds you well.
To explain further, Thailand is a Buddhist country, or more accurately it is an animist country that adheres to Buddhism in a superficial manner out of fear that other countries would poke fun at it if it stood up and said, "You know what guys? I'm animist!" I can just hear Laos chiming in, "Oh, and you said you were so much better than us, 'Thirty years ahead of ya old Laos', you said, and yet here you are finally accepting that we are the same same, but different." Then you'd hear a nasty smirk from Malaysia, "Never believed it for a second Thailand. Not for one second. Why don't you just keep eating pork and believing that everything has a spirit. What are you? George Lucas?" Burma would remain silent, but would think that is was okay because as long as Thailand didn't bother them they could do as they please. Cambodia would be too busy trying to root out the evils of Sinookville and Phnom Phen to even comment, and Indonesia would view themselves as too good to even deign a response.
Where was I, oh yeah, Thailand takes things from Buddhism that it likes, one of which being the belief that everything is impermanent. Now, this is not a bad belief, you hear in all major religions. However I think Thailand has taken this just because it makes things so much easier for planning. You simply don't. "What is tomorrow? An idea, an uncertainty. I can kind of say that i will do this tomorrow, but that is really an abstract idea in all honesty. Have you eaten yet? I'm hungry now." And then, days, weeks go by, but they are days nor are they weeks, they are simply strings of today, and one today they say, "Oh yes, let's get this done NOW!" It took a little bit of time for my silly Western self to acclimatize to this style. I'd always be like, "So, do you know what you're doing next weekend? Wanna plan a trip?" or, once I secured a job teaching, "Do you know my schedule for tomorrow or next week so I could work up some lesson plans?" After incredulous silence, filled by Thais trying to figure out how to say that it was stupid for me to plan anything because that is really betting on a future that doesn't yet exist, I would get noncommittal answers due to the fact that it would embarrass me to be told the aforementioned thought, and embarrassing to the Thais to just out and out say that they did not have any idea. This, somewhat predictably, has led to some situations that others, less in tune to the Thai style of time, would called tension-filled.
"Oh, I have to get all of those documents, pictures, and notarized forms to you by four pm? Oh no, no problem, it's only 230, I got tons of time.... Oh, I have to teach five classes today and give a test I have yet to write? Oh no, absolutely no problem, lemme just get an idea of what they have been studying." It took me a few todays strung together, but I have slowly grasped the idea and belief that everything in Thailand happens now, at this moment, and so here I am, now writing to all of you, and I hope your todays have found you well.
(Oh very quickly and with not nearly enough detail that it deserves, Animism is the belief that everything possess a spirit of some kind and as such should be revered, respected, feared, etc. You'll see these tremendous bodhi trees, I mean truly tremendous, encircled by brightly colored ribbons in the middle of Bangkok and surrounded by spirit houses because no one in their right mind would chop down a tree like that, it is really neat. Also today in Thailand is the festival of Loy Kathong. Kathongs are banana leaf boats shaped like crowns and (ironically as you'll come to see in a second) most often formed around a cake of Styrofoam. These are then anointed with incense, candles, and sometimes coins as offerings and floated down the nearest major waterway, like a canal or river, or stream. They reason they do this is to make amends for the terrible way they treat the water for most of the year. the Kathongs are supposed to gather the bad spirits from the water and take them downriver with them to...... well Cambodia and the ocean I suppose. The Thais really do love their water, they understand it is life sustaining and extremely important. However they still do not have any sort of emission controls, they dump basically everything into the water, and even their apology is Styrofoam filled. I don't know, I love them so much, but sometimes they do what I feel are silly things.)
Anyways, since I last spoke to you I have spent 3 weeks down in Phuket living the island life and spent roughly another week in Bangkok and then 4 fun filled days in Laos at Vang Vieng for my second time down the river. I am now in Nonthai, Nakhon Ratchasima, Thailand and here I shall stand until March. That is due to the fact that I am now somewhat gainfully employed as a teacher of English to the smiling faces of school Nonthaikhuru-upatham, a high school with just 27 shy of 2000. I teach M. 2, 4, and 6 which is the equivalent or Grade 12, 10, and 8. Today was my first day (at thsi school and teaching highschoolers) so i cannot really tell you how it is. I mean today was fun, but first days are always fun. New faces, new routines, new difficulties, the attractiveness of the new, you know? I'll be able to give you a more solid feeling a month or so of todays down the road. I am living with three other teachers, one of which is a dude from bellingham by the name of Cain, the other is a librarian at my joint whose name I still have trouble with, I think it is Pra-reab, and the last is the head director of another school going by the name of Sawat Jantra, which means Luck, Beautiful Luck in Thai. I also live with two students from my school, kid named Top and kid named Man. This is a slightly interesting situation due to the fact that Cain and I are struggling with this silly Western notion of personal space and privacy which frankly do not exist here, and so have been searching out places to stay in nearby Korat, a.k.a. Nakhon Ratchisima. Korat would be ideal because it is only 20 k away and is the fourth or fifth biggest city in Thailand. This would give us that layer of anonymity that we desire. We are kind of "The White Guys" here in Nonthai. Eyeballs on our every move. I mean, I understand this, I have experienced this in my travels previous, and I sincerely believe it is an important thing for anyone and everyone to feel, being the 'other', the extreme minority. But I would appreciate Korat much more. This too is way to early in the today to predict how things will turn out so ask me later.
Well, not only is it Loy Krathong, it is also my own father's birthday so I am hanging it up here to give him a call via skype. I love the interweb and technology.
Much love,
Hope this finds you well.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Fruit!
Fruit! Oh the wonders of fruit! I love Thailand if only for the fruit. This is something I am seriously considering giving a go when I get back to Boise, mobile fruit stands. they are everywhere in Thailand. Just picture: a seven foot by three feet wide and three feet deep plastic box with partitions splitting the rectangle into five different sections. the bottom half of each section is filled with ice. Sitting atop the ice are various fruits. Watermelon (daeng mu), pineapple (sapan rot), guava (farang), cantaloupe (cantaloupe), mango (mango), and coconut. This rectangle is suspended on one side by two over large bicycle wheels with an axle supporting the rectangle and two legs with a crosspiece on the other. there is a large, multi-colored umbrella that one typically sees covering stationery outdoor tables coming from the leg side of the rectangle. A thai guy (or lady) stands on one side, usually the building-side, and awaits you. You walk up and point at the fruit of your choice, for me it is daeng mu or sapan rot and lately been liking the farang because it is their season and they are tasting fabulous. The thai guy spears/picks up your choice and slices it (in the case of sapan rot and daeng mu) into two pieces lengthwise , then slides it into a plastic bag and hits it perpendicularly to the first slice with his knife five of six times chunking the fruit into manageable bites. I do not know how he does not cut the bag, it just happens. he then slides a shish kebab skewer into the bag, asks if you want sugar mixed with red pepper (a truly thai thing that I eschew), and hands the fruit over for 10 baht! Sweet Moses! That's 30 cents! and we are talking about enough fruit to fill your stomach no problem. (In the case of a guava or mango he slices the fruit to the core lengthwise while rotating the fruit clockwise) You then walk off spearing fresh, ice cold fruit and negotiating it to your mouth. I love fruit! Also, I don't know whether you've ever tasted these fruits, much less heard of them, the mangosteen, durian, and dragon fruit. Oh and lychee and ramadan (or something like that, I know it isn't actually called Ramadan)
Durian is called the King of Fruit, and this is because it is so versatile. Roast it and it tatses like potatoe chips, eat it fresh and it tastes like sweet mango/cantaloupe, there are many more uses as well that I have yet to discover or even suspect; it is probably part of the cups that I use to drink water and a main ingredient in the soup I had for dinner tonight! It is about the size of a football and greenish brown in color, it has spikes that make it look like a morningstar or mace, and it smells godawful. Seriously. I have been to guesthouses that do not allow you to bring durian in unless already sliced and ready to go. A filipino I work with summed it up nicely, "Smells like Hell, but tastes of Heaven". And it does taste so good. Mangosteen is called the Queen of fruits, and this is based on purely on its taste. It is a small purple ball, about the size of a plum, with a cartoon plant top to it. Four green leaves and a green stem coming directly from the center of the four leaves, it looks like something from Mario. The shell is somewhat thick, maybe a millimeter and the fruit is like a white mandarin orange with a consistency of the top layer of pudding when you leave it in the fridge. It is white. The taste is one of the best things I have ever eaten. It tastes of strawberries and grape and orange and mango and guava. I bought a kilo of them for 15 baht (50 cents) my first time ever tasting them and sat down to read a book. Before I knew it I had eaten the entire kilo! (2.2. pounds) They are sweet but not overpoweringly so, acidic but not mouth numbing. Truly the best fruit I have ever tasted. Lychees are juicy sonsofguns with a large nut in the center, as are ramadans or whatever they are called. They are supersweet and full of water, a few of them quench your thirst, but because of the sweetness you want more. And more. And more. The lychess are hard, pimple covered red balls, while the ramadans look like punk lychees. They are also reddish/purple, but have these tendrils growing off of them that turn green, bright, fluorescent green at the tips. Dragon fruits are also punks, inside and out. They are about the size of a pear and somewhat similar in shape. However they are purple on the outside, with flame like tendrils curling up their outer skin that peak in bright green as well. The inner meat is fuchsia. A color that I never expected in nature. Bright, bright fuchsia. They taste like fuchsia kiwis, and their flesh is like the kiwi complete with all those little seeds. I eat more fruit over in Thailand than I ever have in the States because it is so affordable and available. it is the perfect snack.
I am really excited because the seasons are changing which means new fruit! The mangosteen, sadly, will become more rare, but the guavas are beginning to take on flavor in such astounding leaps and bounds that I imagine they must soon stop or else risk spontaneous taste explosion. Also the baby bananas (kuai, pronouned k-wai) have started to really hit their stride. They are bananas, but not genetically engineered. That means they are about four inches in length. But they pack all the flavor of the bananas that I am used to into that package. So it is amazing! A burst of banana just itching to escape its flesh. I can't wait to see what fruit Thailand throws at me next. (Fruitwise)
Hope this finds you well,
Pat
Durian is called the King of Fruit, and this is because it is so versatile. Roast it and it tatses like potatoe chips, eat it fresh and it tastes like sweet mango/cantaloupe, there are many more uses as well that I have yet to discover or even suspect; it is probably part of the cups that I use to drink water and a main ingredient in the soup I had for dinner tonight! It is about the size of a football and greenish brown in color, it has spikes that make it look like a morningstar or mace, and it smells godawful. Seriously. I have been to guesthouses that do not allow you to bring durian in unless already sliced and ready to go. A filipino I work with summed it up nicely, "Smells like Hell, but tastes of Heaven". And it does taste so good. Mangosteen is called the Queen of fruits, and this is based on purely on its taste. It is a small purple ball, about the size of a plum, with a cartoon plant top to it. Four green leaves and a green stem coming directly from the center of the four leaves, it looks like something from Mario. The shell is somewhat thick, maybe a millimeter and the fruit is like a white mandarin orange with a consistency of the top layer of pudding when you leave it in the fridge. It is white. The taste is one of the best things I have ever eaten. It tastes of strawberries and grape and orange and mango and guava. I bought a kilo of them for 15 baht (50 cents) my first time ever tasting them and sat down to read a book. Before I knew it I had eaten the entire kilo! (2.2. pounds) They are sweet but not overpoweringly so, acidic but not mouth numbing. Truly the best fruit I have ever tasted. Lychees are juicy sonsofguns with a large nut in the center, as are ramadans or whatever they are called. They are supersweet and full of water, a few of them quench your thirst, but because of the sweetness you want more. And more. And more. The lychess are hard, pimple covered red balls, while the ramadans look like punk lychees. They are also reddish/purple, but have these tendrils growing off of them that turn green, bright, fluorescent green at the tips. Dragon fruits are also punks, inside and out. They are about the size of a pear and somewhat similar in shape. However they are purple on the outside, with flame like tendrils curling up their outer skin that peak in bright green as well. The inner meat is fuchsia. A color that I never expected in nature. Bright, bright fuchsia. They taste like fuchsia kiwis, and their flesh is like the kiwi complete with all those little seeds. I eat more fruit over in Thailand than I ever have in the States because it is so affordable and available. it is the perfect snack.
I am really excited because the seasons are changing which means new fruit! The mangosteen, sadly, will become more rare, but the guavas are beginning to take on flavor in such astounding leaps and bounds that I imagine they must soon stop or else risk spontaneous taste explosion. Also the baby bananas (kuai, pronouned k-wai) have started to really hit their stride. They are bananas, but not genetically engineered. That means they are about four inches in length. But they pack all the flavor of the bananas that I am used to into that package. So it is amazing! A burst of banana just itching to escape its flesh. I can't wait to see what fruit Thailand throws at me next. (Fruitwise)
Hope this finds you well,
Pat
Monday, August 17, 2009
Khlong Rider
I know its been forever. I know. I know that I can't catch you all up on the trip I took through Laos and the amazing time and people I met there, it is just impossible. But I'll give you some small tidbits: Living in Laos is less expensive than Thailand, at least when it comes to room and travel. I stayed in one of the nicest rooms I have so far in Luang Prabong for 20,000 kip a night, which is roughly 84 baht, which is less than 3 US dollars. Private bathroom, queen bed, view of the Mekong River. In comparison I am now back in Bangkok staying in a room for 100 baht (3 US dollars) no bathroom on my floor, no windows in the room, but plenty of cockroaches and other crawly thing that ignore you (I hope) when you ignore them. No view of any river. Food, however, is more costly in Laos. If i ordered my favorite dish (Goyt Dow Pad Kee Maow Gai, which is a noodle dish with vegetables, chicken, garlic, and peppers) in Bangkok I pay 35 baht, about 1 US dollar, and get a huge plateful that is extremely filling. (Thailand's 99 cent value meal is outta this world!) In Laos I'd be paying upwards of 100 baht and it wouldn't be as large of a portion.
I must say this for Laos; it jived more with what my idea of Thaliand was than Thailand itself turned out to be. I know I have no reason to say this, that any idea I had of Thailand was an exoticization, but Laos fulfilled those dreams. It just isn't as developed. In Pak Beng there are no atms and the electricity turns off at 10 pm, in the South (which I have yet to see) around Pakse and the 4000 islands the electricity is only turned on for 3 hours a day. There is less ... stuff in Laos. Less things. You see families living the same way of life that their family lived before, and that their ancestor's ancestor's ancestor lived. Thatch huts, no running water, each home having a small farm and chickens. I'd like to say that they are happier living that way, and it is true, many people I met were very happy, but what does it do when a white dude from eons away comes strolling through your town wearing clothes and gear that cost more than your annual income, and takes pictures of you and your family as if you were there for his entertainment with a camera that cost more than you'll earn in three years and then proceeds to drink with his traveller buddies in a restaurant throwing around money as if it were nothing? (And it sometimes felt that way dealing with the Kip, I mean it is unreal to be carrying around one million kip in your wallet. I can say that I have already been a millionaire in my life and have, like alot of overnight millionaires, spent it all) So I'd say that, yes, many of those people I met have the fortitude and strength of spirit to be happy even though they are constantly confronted with what could be viewed as their own "poverty", but others are bitter, others have hate, but it is a hate they turn on themselves and not on the foreigners. A hate of their own lives, to such an extent that they will do anything to escape it, such as peddle drugs (which carries a mandatory death sentence in Laos, only white women who impregnate themselves get headlines), or even worse peddle themselves as a way to get money, in the idea that money will solve their problems. (The main one being a lack of money). But Laos is beautiful. Amazingly beautiful. Breathtakingly so. So beautiful that I never got used to it, each day, every second I was there, I was saying stupid things like, "Holy Moses look at that! Beautiful!" or "Sweet wondermeats! Look at that! Beautiful!" and so on and so forth. I will go back to Laos, I haven't seen the 4000 islands from a hammock yet or swam with the River dolphins.
Anyways I need to tell you all about my favorite method of public transportation in Bangkok. (I'm back in Bangkok by the way and have been for about a month, maybe a little less, I really like it here) It is the Khlong taxi boats, the canal boats. Bangkok has been called the "Venice of the East"' because of its many canals that criss-cross the city, although I don't know if it is as picturesque as Venice. It does have it's charm, but you're not going to see gaily dressed punters a-singing love songs up and down the canals. One main reason for this is because no one talks on the khlong boats, not because they're anti-social, but because of the fear that a rouge wave from a passing boat or a splash from a wave reflecting off the cement sides of the canal would direct a drop of the khlong water into their mouths. The best way the describe the majority of the khlong water is sickened paper pulp. It is a brackish gray that shines brown when the sun hits a crest in a wave. Things that are thrown into it have to have a certain density and mass to break the surface tension. I have seen things that should sink, like a pebble, or a coin, hit the surface and stick, not float, stick until a slight break in the water allows it slide underneath. "Then why," one might ask, "why is this your favorite mode of transportation?" The answer is twofold; one, it is much quicker than any wheeled transportation and two, it is soooo much fun.
So here is a typical trip (which will showcase both points in favor of khlong transportation). You need to get to Central World to do some shopping from Pinklao. Now sure you could take the 511 and for 16 baht get dropped off at Central World, but that trip could take anywhere from 45 minutes to one and one half hours depending on traffic. Plus the 511 is a popular route, and you being the good citizen you are, would vacate your seat for any girl and any elderly, so you maybe standing the whole time in a bus with no A.C. and possibly 85 people. Boring and uncomfortable. The better way to go is walk down to the Chao Praya, catch the ferry across the river (3 baht) and walk to Democracy Monument and the Panfa Pier (about a thirty minute walk, so good cardio). Then the fun begins. You stand on the pier, a walkway of about 30 feet by 7, and get ready for the boat. The boat, a longtail, roars up and slams against the pier. The crew leap from the side of the boat (on which the also ride and walk) secures it to the pier and waits. People flow off at the same time that people cram on. There are no lines, there is no etiquette, it seems to just be a mad rush. Which, in fact it is. I have never seen a longtail wait at a pier for longer then 2 minutes, a minute and a half is pushing it really. Most of the time they are on and off in under a minute. I feel that they do this to make up for the other extreme of transportation (the bus) when most of the time all you are doing is waiting because of the traffic. I feel that the Thai people have decided that to balance that extreme out the must have the other, speed to sloth, moments to minutes.
Let me explain a little more about the longtail layout. They are boats that are much longer than wide, perhaps as long as 60 feet with a width of no more than ten. The seats are just benches. You get on and then shuffle/slide to the opposite side to allows others to board, and then shuffle/slide the other way when the boat docks on the opposite side. Some of the longer boats have a standing room in the center, and while standing there (my favorite for ease of embarking and disembarking) it is fun to watch this slow migration. If the water is calm, or when you get close to docking you can see the waterways and Bangkok life around you, otherwise it is blocked off by tarpaulin sheets that are rigged to pulleys every 10 feet along the boat. Pull down on the rope and the tarp comes up to shield you from the water. Let off on the rope and it comes down to allow you to leave to boat. When you stand you can get a glimpse of the canal life in the gap between the ceiling and the top of the tarp.
So now you've successfully leaped onto the boat at the Panfa pier. You've negotiated a seat and have paid the conductor. "Alright," you think, "Not bad, this is easy and fun, and no traffic. sweet." Ah, but it is always harder to finish something to begin it, is it not? First you have to know where you are going, and this is not easy. Khlong transportation is not a tourist thing to do, so there are not a whole lot of English signs or explanations and if you do not know your stop and which one comes after what you are not going to make it. I have almost fallen into the khlong in the attempt to get off at the right stop because I did not recognize it before the boat was already docked. At that point, when the boat slightly touches the dock, you had better be half off, or at least standing at the edge, maybe on the edge itself of the boat. Definitely not sitting in the middle of a row of Thai people who know where they're going. However common sense got the better of me and I settled for getting off at the next stop rather than risking death and disease through submersion. I've found that the best way to get off the Khlong is to anticipate and leap off a little bit before the boat actually touches. That way you already have the momentum necessary to bull through the crowd trying to get on and it is fun, that added risk. And really that is where the fun comes from, the risk. Everyone you meet has stories of how so and so went blind in one eye from the Khlong water, or how so-and-so got tapeworm or some other parasitic creature, or how even one guy died from swallowing some water. (Actually died man! I swear it!) That and the saved time and more interesting environment makes Khlong boats my favorite mode of transport.
Come visit and I'll show you.
I must say this for Laos; it jived more with what my idea of Thaliand was than Thailand itself turned out to be. I know I have no reason to say this, that any idea I had of Thailand was an exoticization, but Laos fulfilled those dreams. It just isn't as developed. In Pak Beng there are no atms and the electricity turns off at 10 pm, in the South (which I have yet to see) around Pakse and the 4000 islands the electricity is only turned on for 3 hours a day. There is less ... stuff in Laos. Less things. You see families living the same way of life that their family lived before, and that their ancestor's ancestor's ancestor lived. Thatch huts, no running water, each home having a small farm and chickens. I'd like to say that they are happier living that way, and it is true, many people I met were very happy, but what does it do when a white dude from eons away comes strolling through your town wearing clothes and gear that cost more than your annual income, and takes pictures of you and your family as if you were there for his entertainment with a camera that cost more than you'll earn in three years and then proceeds to drink with his traveller buddies in a restaurant throwing around money as if it were nothing? (And it sometimes felt that way dealing with the Kip, I mean it is unreal to be carrying around one million kip in your wallet. I can say that I have already been a millionaire in my life and have, like alot of overnight millionaires, spent it all) So I'd say that, yes, many of those people I met have the fortitude and strength of spirit to be happy even though they are constantly confronted with what could be viewed as their own "poverty", but others are bitter, others have hate, but it is a hate they turn on themselves and not on the foreigners. A hate of their own lives, to such an extent that they will do anything to escape it, such as peddle drugs (which carries a mandatory death sentence in Laos, only white women who impregnate themselves get headlines), or even worse peddle themselves as a way to get money, in the idea that money will solve their problems. (The main one being a lack of money). But Laos is beautiful. Amazingly beautiful. Breathtakingly so. So beautiful that I never got used to it, each day, every second I was there, I was saying stupid things like, "Holy Moses look at that! Beautiful!" or "Sweet wondermeats! Look at that! Beautiful!" and so on and so forth. I will go back to Laos, I haven't seen the 4000 islands from a hammock yet or swam with the River dolphins.
Anyways I need to tell you all about my favorite method of public transportation in Bangkok. (I'm back in Bangkok by the way and have been for about a month, maybe a little less, I really like it here) It is the Khlong taxi boats, the canal boats. Bangkok has been called the "Venice of the East"' because of its many canals that criss-cross the city, although I don't know if it is as picturesque as Venice. It does have it's charm, but you're not going to see gaily dressed punters a-singing love songs up and down the canals. One main reason for this is because no one talks on the khlong boats, not because they're anti-social, but because of the fear that a rouge wave from a passing boat or a splash from a wave reflecting off the cement sides of the canal would direct a drop of the khlong water into their mouths. The best way the describe the majority of the khlong water is sickened paper pulp. It is a brackish gray that shines brown when the sun hits a crest in a wave. Things that are thrown into it have to have a certain density and mass to break the surface tension. I have seen things that should sink, like a pebble, or a coin, hit the surface and stick, not float, stick until a slight break in the water allows it slide underneath. "Then why," one might ask, "why is this your favorite mode of transportation?" The answer is twofold; one, it is much quicker than any wheeled transportation and two, it is soooo much fun.
So here is a typical trip (which will showcase both points in favor of khlong transportation). You need to get to Central World to do some shopping from Pinklao. Now sure you could take the 511 and for 16 baht get dropped off at Central World, but that trip could take anywhere from 45 minutes to one and one half hours depending on traffic. Plus the 511 is a popular route, and you being the good citizen you are, would vacate your seat for any girl and any elderly, so you maybe standing the whole time in a bus with no A.C. and possibly 85 people. Boring and uncomfortable. The better way to go is walk down to the Chao Praya, catch the ferry across the river (3 baht) and walk to Democracy Monument and the Panfa Pier (about a thirty minute walk, so good cardio). Then the fun begins. You stand on the pier, a walkway of about 30 feet by 7, and get ready for the boat. The boat, a longtail, roars up and slams against the pier. The crew leap from the side of the boat (on which the also ride and walk) secures it to the pier and waits. People flow off at the same time that people cram on. There are no lines, there is no etiquette, it seems to just be a mad rush. Which, in fact it is. I have never seen a longtail wait at a pier for longer then 2 minutes, a minute and a half is pushing it really. Most of the time they are on and off in under a minute. I feel that they do this to make up for the other extreme of transportation (the bus) when most of the time all you are doing is waiting because of the traffic. I feel that the Thai people have decided that to balance that extreme out the must have the other, speed to sloth, moments to minutes.
Let me explain a little more about the longtail layout. They are boats that are much longer than wide, perhaps as long as 60 feet with a width of no more than ten. The seats are just benches. You get on and then shuffle/slide to the opposite side to allows others to board, and then shuffle/slide the other way when the boat docks on the opposite side. Some of the longer boats have a standing room in the center, and while standing there (my favorite for ease of embarking and disembarking) it is fun to watch this slow migration. If the water is calm, or when you get close to docking you can see the waterways and Bangkok life around you, otherwise it is blocked off by tarpaulin sheets that are rigged to pulleys every 10 feet along the boat. Pull down on the rope and the tarp comes up to shield you from the water. Let off on the rope and it comes down to allow you to leave to boat. When you stand you can get a glimpse of the canal life in the gap between the ceiling and the top of the tarp.
So now you've successfully leaped onto the boat at the Panfa pier. You've negotiated a seat and have paid the conductor. "Alright," you think, "Not bad, this is easy and fun, and no traffic. sweet." Ah, but it is always harder to finish something to begin it, is it not? First you have to know where you are going, and this is not easy. Khlong transportation is not a tourist thing to do, so there are not a whole lot of English signs or explanations and if you do not know your stop and which one comes after what you are not going to make it. I have almost fallen into the khlong in the attempt to get off at the right stop because I did not recognize it before the boat was already docked. At that point, when the boat slightly touches the dock, you had better be half off, or at least standing at the edge, maybe on the edge itself of the boat. Definitely not sitting in the middle of a row of Thai people who know where they're going. However common sense got the better of me and I settled for getting off at the next stop rather than risking death and disease through submersion. I've found that the best way to get off the Khlong is to anticipate and leap off a little bit before the boat actually touches. That way you already have the momentum necessary to bull through the crowd trying to get on and it is fun, that added risk. And really that is where the fun comes from, the risk. Everyone you meet has stories of how so and so went blind in one eye from the Khlong water, or how so-and-so got tapeworm or some other parasitic creature, or how even one guy died from swallowing some water. (Actually died man! I swear it!) That and the saved time and more interesting environment makes Khlong boats my favorite mode of transport.
Come visit and I'll show you.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Travelling on Trains
So I'm in Chiang Mai, the "Rose of the North", it has been a whirlwind few weeks. I left Bangkok after spending a week longer there than I intended, but found myself enjoying the style of life available in bangkok. The hostel I was staying at, Phiman Water View, was perfect for me. It is ran, in part, by a wonderful guy named Vee who had spent about 20 years in San Francisco organizing art shows and running a gallery of some nature. He took this love of art and has transported back to Phiman and Bangkok. This means that he was plugged directly into the art scene of Bangkok and was more than willing to show me around and take me to a few art openings. Fairly interesting things, one was held in a small area above a 7-11 (which are everywhere in Thailand, everywhere. They are as ubiquitous as Starbucks in the States, it is actually quite funny) and showcased three artists. All mixed media with an eco-type bend. one built an "eco-friendly" shack, one had a documentary running of Thaksin Sumhavit's impact on the poor people of Thailand, one had an in depth presentation of the dirtying of the Thai rivers, and one had dresses and suits of some natuire, kind of the odd duck out. The reason i say that the shack was "eco-friendly" and not eco-friendly was because it was built out of things that are decidedly unfriendly top the environment (plastics were a major part of the construction) most of which could be found in the in depth dirty river presentation as culprits to clogging the waterways. A nice dissonance between the pieces. A better way to tag the shack would have been "shack", I didn't need to go to an opening to see one, I could just take a train to the slums and see thousands of them. I'm not sure what the artist was trying to say, whether he was glorifying the industriousness of poor people (necessity being the mother invention) or trying to say that one man's trash and all that. I have a feeling though, that he was more trying to capitalize on the eco-craze that is sweeping the world. Making money off of trash.
The trains here are so fun and cheap. Well cheap if you go third class, and that is also what makes it fun. On the ride to Hua Hin was 70 baht (about 2 dollars) and there was literally no room. Standing only. I spent the entire trip sitting in between the cars on the steps going into the train watching the landscape whiz by right by my face. Saw squalls or rain and the big lop-eared cows here that look like lop-eared rabbits and go where they want. Smelled Thailand. It was a very good experience, being surrounded by Thais (most other foreigners buying first or second class tickets) always in contact with strangers as they jostled by or sat next to me, stood over me, sipping water and getting slight vertigo if you focused too closely at the immediate landscape. If you wanted to get all philosophical about it, you could say the train ride was a metaphor that highlighted the need to maintain a perspective about life. When you look to closely on the immediacy, it fills your vision and soon becomes overwhelming in its speed. But if you lift your eyes a little bit, glance outward and take in more of the landscape it becomes clearer, gives a sense of space and peace. Plus you don't have to look at all the trash by the railside.
The other train ride I just took was from Ayatthuya to Chiang Mai, a twelve hour overnighter. Got a sleeping berth and was excited to be sleeping in what, for me at least, would be the most comfortable place I had slept in about a month. Or at least I thought. It turns out that that which I most desired, Air Conditioning, was now what my body could not cope with./ I was freezing the entire night, my nose dried out, my skin felt tight and in general slept in 20 minute bursts. Funny how that turns out. This whole time I've been sweating like a fool, holding AC up as some sort of golden calf, to be sought after, and the moment I actually obtained the AC I found that it was something that I could no longer handle, that I was no longer capable of handling and no longer desired. I still sweat a ton it seems, but probably less than initially, and the mosquitoes, it seems, have extracted the pound of blood and have begun to leave me alone. Of course now that I've typed that I'm sure to be bitten at least thirty times on my left toes alone. They have a wonderful sense of timing mosquitoes do.
Chiang Mai is wonderful. It is still a big place, 8 million or so, but has a much slower pace and friendly atmosphere that is sometimes impeded by, sometimes buoyed with all the travelers. So many white faces here, I've gotten used to being a definite minority it is odd to be back amongst so many Westerners. Some are brash and boorish, others are wonderful and it is such a blessing to be able to communicate. Another thing I've noticed is my German skills have come back quickly. I think it has something to do with being abroad, in the same atmosphere in which I learned German and the fact that I have so many chances to use it. I had to tell an older couple of ladies that they were dressed inappropriately for the Temple at which my friend and I were painting. They were more of the crass type traveler.
Anyways I'm off to jazz club at which is apparently a guitarist who does Santana better than Santana. Or so an expat whose lived here for 10 years has told me. Then it is off to Burma to go on a visa run and maybe a quick swim to See Ann Ki.
Hope this finds you well.
The trains here are so fun and cheap. Well cheap if you go third class, and that is also what makes it fun. On the ride to Hua Hin was 70 baht (about 2 dollars) and there was literally no room. Standing only. I spent the entire trip sitting in between the cars on the steps going into the train watching the landscape whiz by right by my face. Saw squalls or rain and the big lop-eared cows here that look like lop-eared rabbits and go where they want. Smelled Thailand. It was a very good experience, being surrounded by Thais (most other foreigners buying first or second class tickets) always in contact with strangers as they jostled by or sat next to me, stood over me, sipping water and getting slight vertigo if you focused too closely at the immediate landscape. If you wanted to get all philosophical about it, you could say the train ride was a metaphor that highlighted the need to maintain a perspective about life. When you look to closely on the immediacy, it fills your vision and soon becomes overwhelming in its speed. But if you lift your eyes a little bit, glance outward and take in more of the landscape it becomes clearer, gives a sense of space and peace. Plus you don't have to look at all the trash by the railside.
The other train ride I just took was from Ayatthuya to Chiang Mai, a twelve hour overnighter. Got a sleeping berth and was excited to be sleeping in what, for me at least, would be the most comfortable place I had slept in about a month. Or at least I thought. It turns out that that which I most desired, Air Conditioning, was now what my body could not cope with./ I was freezing the entire night, my nose dried out, my skin felt tight and in general slept in 20 minute bursts. Funny how that turns out. This whole time I've been sweating like a fool, holding AC up as some sort of golden calf, to be sought after, and the moment I actually obtained the AC I found that it was something that I could no longer handle, that I was no longer capable of handling and no longer desired. I still sweat a ton it seems, but probably less than initially, and the mosquitoes, it seems, have extracted the pound of blood and have begun to leave me alone. Of course now that I've typed that I'm sure to be bitten at least thirty times on my left toes alone. They have a wonderful sense of timing mosquitoes do.
Chiang Mai is wonderful. It is still a big place, 8 million or so, but has a much slower pace and friendly atmosphere that is sometimes impeded by, sometimes buoyed with all the travelers. So many white faces here, I've gotten used to being a definite minority it is odd to be back amongst so many Westerners. Some are brash and boorish, others are wonderful and it is such a blessing to be able to communicate. Another thing I've noticed is my German skills have come back quickly. I think it has something to do with being abroad, in the same atmosphere in which I learned German and the fact that I have so many chances to use it. I had to tell an older couple of ladies that they were dressed inappropriately for the Temple at which my friend and I were painting. They were more of the crass type traveler.
Anyways I'm off to jazz club at which is apparently a guitarist who does Santana better than Santana. Or so an expat whose lived here for 10 years has told me. Then it is off to Burma to go on a visa run and maybe a quick swim to See Ann Ki.
Hope this finds you well.
Friday, May 29, 2009
It would have been sketchy anywhere else...
So I've arrived in Bangkok and have been loving it. Thailand is beautiful, you sweat the minute you wake up, actually you never stop sweating, but you become cognizant of it the moment you awake and have to take "thai" showers at least three times a day (stripping quickly and upending bucket after bucket of water over yourself while crouched in a tiled room with no drain and plenty of mosquitoes) but it suits me so nicely.
Case in point: the night I arrived it was around midnight and I caught a taxi to my hostel, or rather I caught a taxi to the general area of my hostel. 'Tha-non Samsen Soi hah", I said to the cabbie, "Soi hah?" he said and then proceeded to tell me he had no idea where soi hah was, no idea where my hostel was, and generally explained that Bangkok has many places like this, a "soi" being an alleyway off of a main road with many other alleyways branching off of that and the constitution of these come and go like the butterfly. Of course he said all of this in Thai so I understood none of it, but garnered this information from his facial and body language. I was tired from Hong Kong and the flight, a little bit worried considering that i too had no idea where this hostel was, had no cell phone, no internet connection, and nobody to turn to for help. So I laughed and told the cabbie that I had full faith in him and that we should just enjoy the ride. Of course he had no idea what I was saying but that is essentially what we did. He pointed at things and said stuff, I pointed at the same things and said stuff like, "Boy that certainly is a bridge" or "You may have just pointed at a hospital, I'm not sure why, but I hope you aren't thinking I'll need to know where that is located".
Eventually we pulled onto Samsen and found the fifth (hah) alleyway. At this point it was around 1 am and things were looking....well, things were looking sketchy. Not that it is a bad area, but there were no signs fro Phiman Water View, it was a street with what turns out to be a governmental building on the right and hovels on the left and the cabbie and I had communication difficulties. At the end of the road he pulled over and unrolled his window. next to us was a shack with four young Thai guys lounging about in various states of repose. Some fast Thai flew back and forth and I showed the address and name of Phiman Water View to one of the guys ( a shirtless fat Thai). "Phimannnnnnn" they remarked, "Phimannn" and gestured for me to get out of the cab and follow them. "Well," I thought, "I wasn't robbed in Hong Kong, so I might as well face it here, probably get a good night's sleep in the alleyway after they knock me unconscious and take my stuff. I just hope there is no stabbing" and paid the cabbie and got out. The fat one, I figured he was chosen because he was the least threatening, started walking and gestured for me to follow. I had my right hand in my pocket, white-knuckled around my knife, and began to follow a good five paces behind. He turned a corner into a further alleyway, I hesitated. He looked back and gestured. I followed. he turned into yet another alleyway. I hesitated. Again with the gesturing. About thirty paces later he turned into another alley and I thought, 'Oh to hell with this routine" and blithely followed him at his side. After the sixth ( I kid you not) alleyway turn we came to a metal door with smiling kid-face statues on either side. Phiman Water view. I thanked my guide, tipped him out, and rang the doorbell. Vee answered.
Vee is a Thai native of an indeterminate age (thanks to the Thai structure and face they could be 100 and look 30) but had spent some 20 odd years in San Francisco doing various things. "Sat-wa-dee" he welcomed me and showed me to my room at which point I drank about a half liter of water and fell asleep. "Phiman" in thai means heaven, and that is no misnomer for this place. Directly on the river with a killer view of the Rama 8 bridge this is one of the most relaxed, welcoming places I have stayed. The next morning after wandering about and getting some food Vee found out I have artistic leanings. Through our conversation I agreed to give some Thai neighborhood kids some lessons in drawing and also paint a wall in the court yard, Vee is going to let me stay another week free of charge for services rendered. Then he asked if I wanted to go see some galleries by bicycle. I, of course, jumped all over that and so we took off.
The bike I was riding was probably as old as me and have a seat that was painted in bold colors in the form of an eagle and a title saying as much on one side. It also had no brakes. I was no longer in my kicking New Balance shoes, but rather a 70 baht (about two dollars) pair of flip flops I had bought that morning on my walk with Micah, a former Finnish gang enforcer who just finished a nine year stint in the Finnish hoosegow (but he's a whole story in himself), and these served as my brakes. Previous to my biking about Thailand I considered buying a motorcycle to get around. That thought was firmly burned from my mind seeing as how biking itself is an adventurous proposal. By the end of the day I had worn through both heels of my flip flops and was all too glad to go back to walking. (Although that was a few days back and I am now reconsidering the motorbike). The galleries Vee and I went to were so-so. One student gallery, put on by the University, blew me away. Specifically one Thawanee Thiniparit, or something like that, but the real joy was getting to see a non-touristy side of Bangkok on a bicycle. Vee later introduced me to his artist friend Chanong and we have been hanging out, made a plan to go sell our art on the side of the road on Khao San this week sometime.
Anyways, I'll write more later, but suffice it to say, thus far I'm loving Bangkok. I think on the 7th I'm going to head up the the River Kwai where there is this bridge. (That should sound familiar to you all) and then after that head to Chiang Mai, Pai, and then work my way into Laos, and Cambodia, then back to Bangkok and south to Phuket.
Hope this finds you well
Case in point: the night I arrived it was around midnight and I caught a taxi to my hostel, or rather I caught a taxi to the general area of my hostel. 'Tha-non Samsen Soi hah", I said to the cabbie, "Soi hah?" he said and then proceeded to tell me he had no idea where soi hah was, no idea where my hostel was, and generally explained that Bangkok has many places like this, a "soi" being an alleyway off of a main road with many other alleyways branching off of that and the constitution of these come and go like the butterfly. Of course he said all of this in Thai so I understood none of it, but garnered this information from his facial and body language. I was tired from Hong Kong and the flight, a little bit worried considering that i too had no idea where this hostel was, had no cell phone, no internet connection, and nobody to turn to for help. So I laughed and told the cabbie that I had full faith in him and that we should just enjoy the ride. Of course he had no idea what I was saying but that is essentially what we did. He pointed at things and said stuff, I pointed at the same things and said stuff like, "Boy that certainly is a bridge" or "You may have just pointed at a hospital, I'm not sure why, but I hope you aren't thinking I'll need to know where that is located".
Eventually we pulled onto Samsen and found the fifth (hah) alleyway. At this point it was around 1 am and things were looking....well, things were looking sketchy. Not that it is a bad area, but there were no signs fro Phiman Water View, it was a street with what turns out to be a governmental building on the right and hovels on the left and the cabbie and I had communication difficulties. At the end of the road he pulled over and unrolled his window. next to us was a shack with four young Thai guys lounging about in various states of repose. Some fast Thai flew back and forth and I showed the address and name of Phiman Water View to one of the guys ( a shirtless fat Thai). "Phimannnnnnn" they remarked, "Phimannn" and gestured for me to get out of the cab and follow them. "Well," I thought, "I wasn't robbed in Hong Kong, so I might as well face it here, probably get a good night's sleep in the alleyway after they knock me unconscious and take my stuff. I just hope there is no stabbing" and paid the cabbie and got out. The fat one, I figured he was chosen because he was the least threatening, started walking and gestured for me to follow. I had my right hand in my pocket, white-knuckled around my knife, and began to follow a good five paces behind. He turned a corner into a further alleyway, I hesitated. He looked back and gestured. I followed. he turned into yet another alleyway. I hesitated. Again with the gesturing. About thirty paces later he turned into another alley and I thought, 'Oh to hell with this routine" and blithely followed him at his side. After the sixth ( I kid you not) alleyway turn we came to a metal door with smiling kid-face statues on either side. Phiman Water view. I thanked my guide, tipped him out, and rang the doorbell. Vee answered.
Vee is a Thai native of an indeterminate age (thanks to the Thai structure and face they could be 100 and look 30) but had spent some 20 odd years in San Francisco doing various things. "Sat-wa-dee" he welcomed me and showed me to my room at which point I drank about a half liter of water and fell asleep. "Phiman" in thai means heaven, and that is no misnomer for this place. Directly on the river with a killer view of the Rama 8 bridge this is one of the most relaxed, welcoming places I have stayed. The next morning after wandering about and getting some food Vee found out I have artistic leanings. Through our conversation I agreed to give some Thai neighborhood kids some lessons in drawing and also paint a wall in the court yard, Vee is going to let me stay another week free of charge for services rendered. Then he asked if I wanted to go see some galleries by bicycle. I, of course, jumped all over that and so we took off.
The bike I was riding was probably as old as me and have a seat that was painted in bold colors in the form of an eagle and a title saying as much on one side. It also had no brakes. I was no longer in my kicking New Balance shoes, but rather a 70 baht (about two dollars) pair of flip flops I had bought that morning on my walk with Micah, a former Finnish gang enforcer who just finished a nine year stint in the Finnish hoosegow (but he's a whole story in himself), and these served as my brakes. Previous to my biking about Thailand I considered buying a motorcycle to get around. That thought was firmly burned from my mind seeing as how biking itself is an adventurous proposal. By the end of the day I had worn through both heels of my flip flops and was all too glad to go back to walking. (Although that was a few days back and I am now reconsidering the motorbike). The galleries Vee and I went to were so-so. One student gallery, put on by the University, blew me away. Specifically one Thawanee Thiniparit, or something like that, but the real joy was getting to see a non-touristy side of Bangkok on a bicycle. Vee later introduced me to his artist friend Chanong and we have been hanging out, made a plan to go sell our art on the side of the road on Khao San this week sometime.
Anyways, I'll write more later, but suffice it to say, thus far I'm loving Bangkok. I think on the 7th I'm going to head up the the River Kwai where there is this bridge. (That should sound familiar to you all) and then after that head to Chiang Mai, Pai, and then work my way into Laos, and Cambodia, then back to Bangkok and south to Phuket.
Hope this finds you well
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
B.O.B. (Big 'Ol Buddha)
I am writing this in the Hong Kong International Airport in some brand new factory outlet B820T New Balance kicks. They are brown on brown with a nice faux leather print with swirls reminiscent of paisley. I feel cool, and my feet are happy so it is win win as far as I'm concerned. The reason my feet are happy is because of how blistered they became from all the walking I did in the rain (and yes there was singing involved and some dancing, no umbrella though.)
It rained everyday I was here and none of that light-drizzle-wait-five-minutes-it'll-blow-over type Boise rain. A proper rain that varied from steady to downpour and straight down to horizontal in approach. But I refused to get an umbrella and here's why: they're dangerous. Yes that's right, umbrellas may ostensibly be for your protection but I refuse to protect myself by endangering others; it's why i don't own a gun either, I know I'd probably accidentally shoot something. Umbrellas, as we all know, are roughly circular in shape with veins of wire radiating outwards from a center point. The pieces of wire themselves jut beyond the nylon material and are eye-poking, head-gouging, cloth-grabbing fiends of the apocalypse. I am just the right height so that walking down the already extremely crowded street becomes an obstacle course of self-preservation with the addition of thousands of umbrellas. Some coming right at you, others sneaking from behind and my personal favorite, the umbrella that turns the corner a split second before you arrive at the same juncture. Oh I love those indeed. So I personally made a stand and said no to umbrellas and I feel I made the world a safer place in doing so.
The downside of my resolute stand against umbrellas was that twenty seconds after starting my day I was soaked. My coat would shunt all the water directly onto my shorts/pants and then the rain would of course find a way under my coat and subvert it from the inside. Thankfully everything I wear is quick-drying so once I went into a train or museum I would dry out. But I carried around that musty smell of clothes that had been wet and then dry and then wet the entire time. I covered that smell as best as possible by using a cheap Chinese musk and standing in front of the restaurants so in the end I smelled like steamed beef and ginger with a hint of wet. The thing of it is though, is that everyone smelled like that so really I blended right in with the mass of humanity with which I was surrounded.
Onto B.O.B.
B.O.B. is the Big 'Ol Buddha on Lantua Island and it is an experience. It is called the Tian Tan Buddha and is kept up by the Po Lin Monastery. I feel lucky that it was raining when I went to visit the Buddha because it was deserted, just me and the Buddha and a few other hardcore individuals (with umbrellas, so not that hardcore!) But it was better than having to jostle about and created a very interesting juxtaposition. The statue is gigantic, dominating, but the end result was a very peaceful atmosphere, quiet and introspective. I also walked the Wisdom Path and took a small jaunt down a Lantau County Park path but turned back after about a mile because I was tired of walking in water to my mid foot and squelching through mud. The Wisdom Path followed these gigantic (I feel that the park heads said, "Well we already got a huge Buddha, may as well make everything else big as well") wooden posts on which a Professor of some nature have calligraphically carved the heart sutra and then positioned them in a figure eight (the infinity symbol). No one else walked the Wisdom path and I really enjoyed that respite from from the never-ending hustle and bustle of HK.
I ate wonderfully, simply wonderfully. Interestingly enough the main food which is a must have I liked the least, dim sun, or dumplings. It may have been the restaurant I ordered them form, but all in all it was my least favorite meal. I really enjoyed all the Chinese stir fry and am getting quite proficient with chopsticks. At first I was slightly upset over all the chopstick action required (heretofore had only used them in sushi eating) and constantly questioned why the chopstick is the shark of the silverware family; it hasn't evolved since the first guy ripped to sticks from a tree. But now I realize that a large portion of eating with a chopstick is shoveling. Any rice or salad or small things, you just jam the plate by your face and shovel. It's actually really fun, kind of indulging in a little bit of play while you eat. I'll try to figure out how to post some pictures once I'm in Thailand, but I'm going to go check in for my flight.
Hope this finds you well.
It rained everyday I was here and none of that light-drizzle-wait-five-minutes-it'll-blow-over type Boise rain. A proper rain that varied from steady to downpour and straight down to horizontal in approach. But I refused to get an umbrella and here's why: they're dangerous. Yes that's right, umbrellas may ostensibly be for your protection but I refuse to protect myself by endangering others; it's why i don't own a gun either, I know I'd probably accidentally shoot something. Umbrellas, as we all know, are roughly circular in shape with veins of wire radiating outwards from a center point. The pieces of wire themselves jut beyond the nylon material and are eye-poking, head-gouging, cloth-grabbing fiends of the apocalypse. I am just the right height so that walking down the already extremely crowded street becomes an obstacle course of self-preservation with the addition of thousands of umbrellas. Some coming right at you, others sneaking from behind and my personal favorite, the umbrella that turns the corner a split second before you arrive at the same juncture. Oh I love those indeed. So I personally made a stand and said no to umbrellas and I feel I made the world a safer place in doing so.
The downside of my resolute stand against umbrellas was that twenty seconds after starting my day I was soaked. My coat would shunt all the water directly onto my shorts/pants and then the rain would of course find a way under my coat and subvert it from the inside. Thankfully everything I wear is quick-drying so once I went into a train or museum I would dry out. But I carried around that musty smell of clothes that had been wet and then dry and then wet the entire time. I covered that smell as best as possible by using a cheap Chinese musk and standing in front of the restaurants so in the end I smelled like steamed beef and ginger with a hint of wet. The thing of it is though, is that everyone smelled like that so really I blended right in with the mass of humanity with which I was surrounded.
Onto B.O.B.
B.O.B. is the Big 'Ol Buddha on Lantua Island and it is an experience. It is called the Tian Tan Buddha and is kept up by the Po Lin Monastery. I feel lucky that it was raining when I went to visit the Buddha because it was deserted, just me and the Buddha and a few other hardcore individuals (with umbrellas, so not that hardcore!) But it was better than having to jostle about and created a very interesting juxtaposition. The statue is gigantic, dominating, but the end result was a very peaceful atmosphere, quiet and introspective. I also walked the Wisdom Path and took a small jaunt down a Lantau County Park path but turned back after about a mile because I was tired of walking in water to my mid foot and squelching through mud. The Wisdom Path followed these gigantic (I feel that the park heads said, "Well we already got a huge Buddha, may as well make everything else big as well") wooden posts on which a Professor of some nature have calligraphically carved the heart sutra and then positioned them in a figure eight (the infinity symbol). No one else walked the Wisdom path and I really enjoyed that respite from from the never-ending hustle and bustle of HK.
I ate wonderfully, simply wonderfully. Interestingly enough the main food which is a must have I liked the least, dim sun, or dumplings. It may have been the restaurant I ordered them form, but all in all it was my least favorite meal. I really enjoyed all the Chinese stir fry and am getting quite proficient with chopsticks. At first I was slightly upset over all the chopstick action required (heretofore had only used them in sushi eating) and constantly questioned why the chopstick is the shark of the silverware family; it hasn't evolved since the first guy ripped to sticks from a tree. But now I realize that a large portion of eating with a chopstick is shoveling. Any rice or salad or small things, you just jam the plate by your face and shovel. It's actually really fun, kind of indulging in a little bit of play while you eat. I'll try to figure out how to post some pictures once I'm in Thailand, but I'm going to go check in for my flight.
Hope this finds you well.
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