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
Friday, May 29, 2009
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.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
An Aussie, a Brit and an American walk into an Irish pub in Hong Kong...
Or so the joke starts. The pub I'm referring to is P.J. Murphy's a fine establishment and an island of the known in the ocean that is Hong Kong. Every night after the various activites I find my way down there fighting off the Indian immigrants trying to sell me wayches, hashish and new suits and sink into an atmosphere that is a respite from the hectic pace that is Hong Kong. Paul is the British dude and Mark is the Australian. Paul is now onwards to Fiji and Mark to England but we chatted up a couple of nights and discovered a few things:
One: Ten days in Hong Kong is a long time, as Paul put it, "I'm officialy Chinese at this point".
This is mainly because for however large the city of Hong Kong itself is there is onlt so much one can do as a tourist before it bacomes eerily similar in its feel. The city streets themselves are carbon copies of one another. There'll be a Yoshiono (delicious japanese cuisine) five or six tailor shops, foot massage centers, hole-in-the wall restuarants all in a S.E. Asia flair (Thai, Indian, Indonesian, etc) a few bars, at least one 7-11 if not more and currency exchange centers. This, more likely than not, does not hold true in the more resdiential areas of Hong Kong but I've yet to find these so I wouldn't know. The end result being a serious case of deja vu even when you're hoplessly disoriented. You feel that you've walked down that road before even if it's the first time you've stepped foot on that path.(However you're never really lost if you can find a metro station because Hong Kong;s rail line is the paragon of efficiency and simplicity) In order to spice things up I've taken to walking the alleyways. Now don't get ahead of yourself, these alleyways are safe. Well safe as one could expect. For all the Caldwell folk it's like the alleyway shuffle that got us around all throughout school. Plus they have the added benefit of the hidden cultural treasure: the shrine. These shrines come in every shape and size and crop up in the most unexpected areas. I just saw one built into the walkway above a persons entry. You can tell that these shrines are labors of love, because even though they usually don't get any larger than a gallon of milk every piece of the shrine is meticulously laid out, constantly kept up and always has incense burning with fruit (most often oranges) resting before them. Pretty cool stuff. But all in all, ten days is a long time to just be the "tourist".
Two: Hong Kong is a remarkably clean city.
Seriously, all three of us noticed the lack of a few things; graffiti, bums and trash. The last two I think have become self-cancelling. The city of Hong Kong employs those who otherwise might be transients to sweep the city streets, collect the trash and bring the refuse to a central location. I mean for a city with roughly 8 million people there are, percentagewise, no bums. there are more in Boise, ID. However the bums that are here break your heart. They are the physically disfigured, ranging from handless, touching eyeless/earless, and then rounding it out with the twisted feet. It really breaks your heart. (Especially since I just watched Slumdog Millionaire not too long ago, I don't know if that is their background story but in my mind it is, and that tugs on the old heartstrings). Also they partake in a passive form of begging they just outstretch their hands, or arms, and wave them up and down all while looking at the ground. They don;t come after you and shout at you, just quietly sit in one place and beg. Just different from the bums with which I've had experience. The graffiti I can't piece. There should be graffiti. It's a large city with a vibrant subculture. There aren't any gangs to speak of, n crews of individuals wandering about menacingly weraing the same color clothes and whatnot so there aren't any "tags" (which I do not consider graffiti) so there should be some awesome wall pieces scattered about. At least in the alleyways. The only thing I could figure is that the punishment is too stringent. It has to be that because as far as eligible areas to put up some art, Hong Kong is a canvas waiting to be used. Kind of bummed about the graffiti.
There are a few more things we've learned but I've got to go run and catch a train to a tram to Victoria's Peak. I leave on Tuesday for Bangkok. Anyways, if you want a postcard you should post your address in the comment section.
One: Ten days in Hong Kong is a long time, as Paul put it, "I'm officialy Chinese at this point".
This is mainly because for however large the city of Hong Kong itself is there is onlt so much one can do as a tourist before it bacomes eerily similar in its feel. The city streets themselves are carbon copies of one another. There'll be a Yoshiono (delicious japanese cuisine) five or six tailor shops, foot massage centers, hole-in-the wall restuarants all in a S.E. Asia flair (Thai, Indian, Indonesian, etc) a few bars, at least one 7-11 if not more and currency exchange centers. This, more likely than not, does not hold true in the more resdiential areas of Hong Kong but I've yet to find these so I wouldn't know. The end result being a serious case of deja vu even when you're hoplessly disoriented. You feel that you've walked down that road before even if it's the first time you've stepped foot on that path.(However you're never really lost if you can find a metro station because Hong Kong;s rail line is the paragon of efficiency and simplicity) In order to spice things up I've taken to walking the alleyways. Now don't get ahead of yourself, these alleyways are safe. Well safe as one could expect. For all the Caldwell folk it's like the alleyway shuffle that got us around all throughout school. Plus they have the added benefit of the hidden cultural treasure: the shrine. These shrines come in every shape and size and crop up in the most unexpected areas. I just saw one built into the walkway above a persons entry. You can tell that these shrines are labors of love, because even though they usually don't get any larger than a gallon of milk every piece of the shrine is meticulously laid out, constantly kept up and always has incense burning with fruit (most often oranges) resting before them. Pretty cool stuff. But all in all, ten days is a long time to just be the "tourist".
Two: Hong Kong is a remarkably clean city.
Seriously, all three of us noticed the lack of a few things; graffiti, bums and trash. The last two I think have become self-cancelling. The city of Hong Kong employs those who otherwise might be transients to sweep the city streets, collect the trash and bring the refuse to a central location. I mean for a city with roughly 8 million people there are, percentagewise, no bums. there are more in Boise, ID. However the bums that are here break your heart. They are the physically disfigured, ranging from handless, touching eyeless/earless, and then rounding it out with the twisted feet. It really breaks your heart. (Especially since I just watched Slumdog Millionaire not too long ago, I don't know if that is their background story but in my mind it is, and that tugs on the old heartstrings). Also they partake in a passive form of begging they just outstretch their hands, or arms, and wave them up and down all while looking at the ground. They don;t come after you and shout at you, just quietly sit in one place and beg. Just different from the bums with which I've had experience. The graffiti I can't piece. There should be graffiti. It's a large city with a vibrant subculture. There aren't any gangs to speak of, n crews of individuals wandering about menacingly weraing the same color clothes and whatnot so there aren't any "tags" (which I do not consider graffiti) so there should be some awesome wall pieces scattered about. At least in the alleyways. The only thing I could figure is that the punishment is too stringent. It has to be that because as far as eligible areas to put up some art, Hong Kong is a canvas waiting to be used. Kind of bummed about the graffiti.
There are a few more things we've learned but I've got to go run and catch a train to a tram to Victoria's Peak. I leave on Tuesday for Bangkok. Anyways, if you want a postcard you should post your address in the comment section.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Me and the Chinese Government
So if I had a "fave 5" for the next few days the Chinese government would be on my list. Let me explain:
Had a terrifically long flight from Vancouver to Hong Kong (some 12 and one half hours) that, do to the fact that I had an aisle seat and no view of the outside, felt as if I had just sat in a large tube and had been shaken intermittently up and down, side to side, with a light that told me to be studious in my use of the safety belt. Really strange way to travel, 30000 feet up and no real sense of movement.
Arrived in Hong Kong and had to fill out a health check due to the increase of swine flu. I have allergies, and so I dutifully checked the box that had symptoms listed: coughing/sneezing. That was a mistake. I had no sooner shown the health guard my form than he focused on the check marks which then led to me having to go to a different level led by a diminuitive female airport security member where I then spent about 30 minutes attempting to explain allergies. I thought that I had made good progress until I foolishly told the examiner that this happens every year. "Every year?" he said his eyes widening just over top the surgical mask he wore, 'And how long is this every year cough happen?"
I could see he thought that he had hit jackpot. Not only did I have swine flu but had had it for years as far as he knew, perhaps I was responsible for the whole flu in the first place, and incubator of sorts. I backtracked. Well, that's not true. I eventually was worn down to just repeating "Allergies" in various tones and stresses "AAAAllergiEEEs" "aaLLEERRgies" "allERgiES" until he nodded comprehension. "Allergies", he says, "Okay, but because the U.S.A. is central in increasing swine flu in area we must in contact with you for next seven days."
So I gave him my phone number. I don't really know how the Chinese Government will be able to get ahold of me considering my phone is turned off, but it seemed to satisfy him. "Okay we call you on this day, this day, this day, and this day" all of which was accompanied by him pointing clearly to the calendar for the next four days. Then I'm off to Bangkok and will no longer be a worry of the Chinese.
I just checked into my hostel, after being surrounded by, I kid you not, 12 dudes who were attempting to steer me to their hostel after I got off the bus with a tremendously large backpack on my back. That was a dead giveaway, but no way around it that I could see. I just kept repeating that I had a reservation, that I knew (somewhat) where I was going and that while I appreciated their help if they could just GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BACKPACK! YEAH YOU! I SAW YOU! JEEZ! if they could just let me be everything would be alright. I had to walk about five blocks and in that time I probably pirouhetted 7 times in the act of watching my own back. precipitously off balance I may add because of the weight of my pack. Me, spinning in the midst of a group of shouting guys, them momentarily spacing off when my spin knocked them back but then quickly sucking back in to my draft. Awesome. In the end I was just laughing and spinning randomly for fun.
Anyways I'm going to go get something to eat. I talk to you soon.
Had a terrifically long flight from Vancouver to Hong Kong (some 12 and one half hours) that, do to the fact that I had an aisle seat and no view of the outside, felt as if I had just sat in a large tube and had been shaken intermittently up and down, side to side, with a light that told me to be studious in my use of the safety belt. Really strange way to travel, 30000 feet up and no real sense of movement.
Arrived in Hong Kong and had to fill out a health check due to the increase of swine flu. I have allergies, and so I dutifully checked the box that had symptoms listed: coughing/sneezing. That was a mistake. I had no sooner shown the health guard my form than he focused on the check marks which then led to me having to go to a different level led by a diminuitive female airport security member where I then spent about 30 minutes attempting to explain allergies. I thought that I had made good progress until I foolishly told the examiner that this happens every year. "Every year?" he said his eyes widening just over top the surgical mask he wore, 'And how long is this every year cough happen?"
I could see he thought that he had hit jackpot. Not only did I have swine flu but had had it for years as far as he knew, perhaps I was responsible for the whole flu in the first place, and incubator of sorts. I backtracked. Well, that's not true. I eventually was worn down to just repeating "Allergies" in various tones and stresses "AAAAllergiEEEs" "aaLLEERRgies" "allERgiES" until he nodded comprehension. "Allergies", he says, "Okay, but because the U.S.A. is central in increasing swine flu in area we must in contact with you for next seven days."
So I gave him my phone number. I don't really know how the Chinese Government will be able to get ahold of me considering my phone is turned off, but it seemed to satisfy him. "Okay we call you on this day, this day, this day, and this day" all of which was accompanied by him pointing clearly to the calendar for the next four days. Then I'm off to Bangkok and will no longer be a worry of the Chinese.
I just checked into my hostel, after being surrounded by, I kid you not, 12 dudes who were attempting to steer me to their hostel after I got off the bus with a tremendously large backpack on my back. That was a dead giveaway, but no way around it that I could see. I just kept repeating that I had a reservation, that I knew (somewhat) where I was going and that while I appreciated their help if they could just GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BACKPACK! YEAH YOU! I SAW YOU! JEEZ! if they could just let me be everything would be alright. I had to walk about five blocks and in that time I probably pirouhetted 7 times in the act of watching my own back. precipitously off balance I may add because of the weight of my pack. Me, spinning in the midst of a group of shouting guys, them momentarily spacing off when my spin knocked them back but then quickly sucking back in to my draft. Awesome. In the end I was just laughing and spinning randomly for fun.
Anyways I'm going to go get something to eat. I talk to you soon.
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