destination: unknown

This is going to be the most dangerous excursion so far on my journey - more so than the risk of death from elephant stampede or of food poisoning from street food vendors.

What I am talking about is a visit to Baan Tawai, a village some 25 kilometers from Chiang Mai known for beautiful wood carvings.  Where is the danger in that, you ask?  Since I don't know exactly where the village is or what it looks like, nor do I know quite how to get there, there is a strong chance of my being kidnapped and sold into servitude, based on my charming looks and submissive personality no doubt, to some older, unattractive, overweight bear who collects Victorian antique furniture in Guerneville.  Buddha have mercy.

a song thaew

The simple, less exciting method to reach Baan Tawai is a taxi ride.  The real and only way is to ride the song thaew (pronounced "song tao"), which are modified pickup trucks painted in various colors found roaming in and around Chiang Mai.  Those that stay within the gates of the Old City are painted red.  When one approaches you, you raise your hand, and it stops.  You tell the driver your location, and if it's on his way, you jump on; if not, he drives off and you wait for the next one.  There are no set routes; the trip depends completely on the destinations of all the passengers.  Sounds haphazard, but for 20 Bahts (70 cents), you really can't complain.

The song thaew that I need today is painted yellow; it leaves Chiang Mai and goes on a fixed route, passing Baan Tawai on the way.  Luckily, after walking just a couple of minutes, a yellow song thaew comes toward me.  I stop the driver and give him my destination.  He hesitates for a second then nods his head.  As soon as I get in and the song thaew takes off, I wonder about the hesitation.  Could it possibly be a quick assessment to see if I was good slave material?  Could the old man and woman already in the truck be his pimps?  How about the young mother with her infant child wrapped against her chest?  Are they innocent but unlucky passengers like me, or are they just decoy.  My mind is on high alert.

Soon, the driver stops and picks up more passengers and the back of the pickup is now full, with one man standing in the rear on what appears to be the tailgate, holding on to dear life with just one hand.  One misstep or a jerk in the hand, and it will be sayonara, or sawasdee krap in this case, even before he has a chance to say "oh, crap."

But my mind wanders from the stranger back to myself, as it habitually does in any circumstance:  how am I to know when and where to get off?  I pray that the driver really did understand me and that some other passenger is going to the same place.  No such luck.  Looking around me at all the Thai faces that surround me, there is no way any of them would be going where tourists go.  I notice that some of them are looking at me as well.  I quickly brush one hand against the area between my nose and lips, just in case there is a booger hanging out of my nose that is causing the stare.  No, perfectly clean.  Is it eye-boogers?  I remove my glasses and casually rub my eyes, pretending to be fatigued so as not to cause further attention.  Nothing there either.  Suddenly the passenger next to me taps me on the shoulder.  Is this my end?  Am I next on the chopping block?  Sold into slavery at such a not-so-young age, what will my life become?  I expect the driver has been paid most handsomely for a specimen like me.

I see him at the back of the truck, peering through the two standing men.  "Baan Tawai, mister."  Oh, okay.  I quickly get out of truck, maneuvering carefully so as not to step on the two men.  After handing the driver 20 Bahts, I start the next phase of my journey - walking over three kilometers to the village.  Hey, at least I am a free man who owes taxes and a mortgage.

In the afternoon, after more than three hours of perusing in hundreds of woodcraft stores, I start my journey home.  It's funny how I would do certain things while traveling that I wouldn't normally do - like walking at three in the afternoon under a scorching sun when the temperature is more than 90 degrees.  Let's see, three kilometers in over 30 minutes at 90 degrees - that comes out to be 1.2 freckles and 0.45 moles over a lifetime.  My parasol is in the shop, so I use the village map to block out some of the sun - down to 0.4 moles.

After reaching the main road, it is time to look for a yellow song thaew.  I am hoping that its to and return routes are the same.  It is.  A magical yellow bus comes my way and I eagerly hop on, or I want to eagerly hop on.  The inside is full, and there are already two guys standing in the back.  Without hesitation, I jump on between the two guys and plant my flip flops firm into the metal beneath me.

Unlike the locals, one of whom is a school boy, who only require one hand on the rail, I grab on with two.  Pretty soon, I am flying in the back of the truck with my two fellow daredevil passengers and thinking that I'm pretty cool for doing this.  Some western tourists look my way as the truck passes by; they must be noticing the same thing - my courage in doing what the locals do.  However, as I've been told many times that I look Thai, I wonder how these farangs (foreigner) know that I am not.  Doesn't matter.  I appreciate the envy and admiration in their eyes.

It suddenly occurred to me that such an event must be documented, and it's a good thing I have my Fuji x10 in my backpack, but taking it out and turning it on would require some risky and cumbersome maneuvering on my part, as I will have to let go of one hand from the rail.  I end up letting go of both at one point, with my elbow tucked into the space between the truck and the rail while I operate the camera standing on the tailgate of a pickup truck going at 30-40 mph.

Before I know it, the ride is over.  I see Chiang Mai gate once again before me, and I jump off from the platform to Baan Tawai, to servitude, and to broken bones and ego. 

Some destinations are worth reaching.  Others?  Happy Valentine's Day to me and all you single people.  What is my destination on that journey?

on sunday

the most fragrant soup base

Today was all about food - cooking it, to be exact.

The original plan was to take a cooking class in each city on my itinerary; however, due to various reasons, this didn't happen in Hanoi, Siem Reap, or Bangkok.  So I'm making up for it by taking a five-hour course, making five dishes along the day.

On the menu today:  pad thai, coconut seafood soup, spring rolls, green curry chicken, and mango with sticky rice.

that's right, the next iron chef

Here are some of the important things I learned today.  The pad thai I made was every bit as good as any I had tasted so far in Thailand.  I guess that means I really am that good of a cook.  Chili peppers come in numerous sizes - smaller equals hotter.  The number of chili peppers to put in a Thai dish:  one for mild, five for medium, ten for very spicy, and at least fifteen for Thai spicy.  Thai curry contains no "curry" - the kind that you buy in a packet.  I always envisioned any curry to contain some sort of curry powder, not so with Thai curry.  I made green curry (with one chili pepper) from scratch, its ingredients including all sorts of fresh herbs, pounded in a mortar, but no curry powder.  I suppose I'll have to invite you over for a sample after I return from my trip.  You can expect an invitation six to twelve months later, after a welcome back gift of mortar and pestle.

seafood coconut soup

spring rolls

pad thai

making green curry

green curry chicken

mango with sticky rice

Since it is Sunday, Tony and I visited the Sunday night walking market in the old city of Chiang Mai.  Roads are blocked along approximately 2-3 kilometers of road for individual vendors to display their goods (I estimate over 1,000 vendors present).  Walking on the seemingly never-ending street, I thought the entire population of Chiang Mai was present to take advantage of the cheap affair.  However, despite the huge number of vendors, there were truly only about 20 or so different sets of products, as most were the same touristic souvenirs.  You really couldn't expect anything more when it comes to cheat tourist shopping; it's the same in every city I have ever visited.  And why is it that even in European cities, such vendors tend to be Asian?

In the midst of hunting for unique items, licking the grease off the chicken skewer so it wouldn't drip onto my shirt, and staying on alert for cute guys, I suddenly noticed "I will always love you" playing from a nearby speaker.  I turned to Tony and gave him a I-know-that-song look.  "Whitney's dead," he said.  Of course, everyone knows that with all the drug abuse, her career is as good as dead.  Thinking no more of it but adding humming to the song to the already impossibly busy list of things I was doing, I walked on.

A few minutes later, another speaker played the same song.  What's with everyone playing the same piece of music?  "She died," Tony replied to my look.  What?  Whitney died, as in she stopped breathing; her heart couldn't go on like Celine's?  "Don't you ever listen?  I just told you two minutes ago!"  This is a typical conversation between my brother and me, by the way:  I react to things late, only to be reprimanded seconds later.

After returning to the hotel, I did a quick search to confirm what I already knew:  Whitney Houston died on February 11, 2012.  My reaction was simple shock (again, late), no sadness, since we weren't Facebook friends.

Given the circumstance, "I will always love you" seems to be as good a tribute as any.

elephants can remember

Ah, Chiang Mai.  What a breath of fresh air.

Actually, the air is quite polluted, just as it is in Bangkok, but it isn't humid.  Hallelujah!  The weather here is quite like Los Angeles - warm and dry.

Chiang Mai is located in Northern Thailand and has the beautiful nickname Rose of the North.  If you have been to or heard of Chiang Mai, then you must know about the elephant rides.  Many tourists consider this exotic activity in which elephants also perform tricks a must-do.  I wonder if these people ever asked themselves how wild animals such as the Asian elephants became domicile enough for riding and trained enough to play musical instruments.

If these tourists were to do some research, they would learn that training for these elephants begins at age four and includes centuries-old methods that I can only assume were created alongside the so-called Chinese torture methods.  To initiate these elephants and to render them submissive, they are placed in a wooden cage small enough to prevent any movement, with all four limbs tied down.  Trainers and their young children prod the elephants with wooden sticks which have sharp nails attached at the end.  When the elephants try to fight this off, they are beaten and poked everywhere on the body, including the eyes.  Many elephants survive these days of initiation only to end up with severe infections or fractured bones, not to mention broken souls and hearts.  Of course you know what happens to their tusk.  This is just the beginning.

Since the outlaw of rain forest logging in 1990, which, by the way, was done due to worsening floods from monsoons and not as protection for the elephants, these gentle giants have been used to entertain human beings on city streets as beggars and in tourist centers as clowns and rides.  At the beginning of my trip, I was looking forward to becoming such a tourist.

Fortunately, I read just a week ago an article regarding a Thai woman named Sangduan Chailert, who has been saving elephants all over Southeast Asia by creating a haven for them which she calls Elephant Nature Park.  The elephants she rescues or buys from previous owners come to this park to roam free, far away from human cruelty and ignorance.

It was here that Tony and I spent our first full day in Chiang Mai.

Did you know that, just like their human counterparts, Asian elephants are smaller than African elephants?  What can I say, we're just by nature petite and adorable.  They weigh about 4,000-5,000 kg, with those at the Park somewhat smaller due to the history of abuse and poor health.  Each day, these elephants consume about 10% of their body weight, and since they are herbivores, that comes out to truckloads of produce.

During our day at the Park, we feed the elephants with pumpkins, bananas, and watermelons.  We bathe them in the river within the grounds of the Park.  What we don't do is ride them or watch them perform tricks, the only exception being an elephant named Kiss.  For some reason, she has a habit of "kissing" a person when she is being fed.  I got kissed by Kiss (I just couldn't wait until Valentine's Day), but Tony's photographic skills captured the action five seconds late, when all I had as evidence of the kiss was elephant slobber on my cheek.

Other than our one-day tour, there is also a program for interested folks to come stay at the Park for one to two weeks to work as paying volunteers.  I think that would definitely be an educational experience to remember for a lifetime.

Just like these elephants.

a gentle eye

kissed by Kiss

i wouldn't drink from this river

sawasdee krap

My journey is half over, or half way through for the optimists.

It is also time to leave Bangkok for Chiang Mai.  The big question for me is:  do I like Bangkok more than when I first met her?  The answer is yes.  I finally saw the light when I decided to live in Bangkok rather than visit Bangkok.  I went about my usual business as if I were back at home:  I eat, sleep, eat, walk, write, and then eat some more.  Sure, I can only say two things in Thai:  hello, good-bye, and thank you.  Those of you who can count see that I've listed three things.  That's because hello and good-bye are the same (sawasdee krap), sort of like ciao in Italian.

Will I return to Bangkok?  Yes to that as well, except it will be sometime between November and January, when the temperature and humidity are both lower.  I've seen some people on the streets of Bangkok in either a suit or a light jacket without breaking a sweat, and I know some of you out there are like that - you need two comforters at night when it's 75 degrees outside.  That's right, I'm talking about you freaks of nature - don't try to hide behind the fat woman whose sweat is pouring down her forehead like an open hose - trying to steal some of her sweat and pass it off as your own.  Own your freakishness and know that I hate and envy you.

Those of you who are faithful followers of my blog (okay, fine, it's just two of you, but that makes it plural) have asked about my brother Tony.  More specifically, you asked about my "hot brother" whose face and body no longer appear in my photos during the last few days.  I am happy to report that he is well and alive somewhere in Thailand.

Traveling with family members isn't an easy journey for everyone, except for those whose sister is their best friend or those whose brother's mother is their cousin's uncle's granddaughter.  Luckily, Tony and I don't have the same itinerary.  We started in Hanoi and Cambodia together.  In Thailand, we overlap during my first few days in Bangkok and again in Chiang Mai.  This has turned out to be quite ideal, as it's great to have some company along the way then to part just before we get sick of each other.  Most importantly, when you go on group excursions, you don't have to be that sad, pathetic person all by yourself, like the loser sitting by herself on prom night or the guy picked last in high school softball.  Neither has ever happened to me, more than once.

Sawasdee krap, Bangkok.

Sawasdee krap, Chiang Mai.

what's in your shadow?

Despite what it may sound like, I actually did a bit of sightseeing in Bangkok.

There are many, many wats (temples) in Bangkok.  I managed to see two:  Wat Pho and Wat Arun.

Wat Pho is home to the reclining buddha, and this is one big buddha, measuring 15 meters in height and 43 meters in length.  I think he feels a bit cramped in the little house they've put him in.  I don't know how he managed to get inside in the first place.  People who come to pay respect to the buddha - I should mention that even though he's reclining, we're not disturbing him because his eyes are closed - enter through the door right next to his head.  They stop and take a zillion photos, smiling in 100 different ways and posing with their fingers in 1,000 different permutations and directions.  That takes about ten minutes for each person.  Then from the head, most people zip through to the feet of the buddha in about ten seconds, because there's not much excitement going on between the neck and ankles.  It would take less than ten seconds if it weren't for that annoying guy who keeps stopping at each segment to snap pictures of the chest, belly, thighs, and legs and of course you don't want to bump into him because there's a strange smell inside and you think it's coming from him (he's kind of obese and sweaty).

look up, you fools!

the secret to happiness?

On the back side of the buddha, people buy 20 bahts (about 65 cents) worth of coins to drop into small metal buckets.  I didn't do this.  I suppose they think this is for good luck.  Maybe some people make a wish at every bucket, hence holding up the line.  Or perhaps they're doing it because that woman in front of them did it, but no one really knows why.  Nevertheless, watch how gleefully everyone is looking down to drop their little coins while wishing for a bigger house, a better job, a prettier wife, a hunkier husband, or smarter children.  Oh, what fools these mortals be.  If only they would look up to see the beautiful paintings on the wall, they would realize that the secret to happiness is in these paintings.  But they never noticed.  By the way, your not so smart children came from you.

The second and final wat I visited was Wat Arun, known as the temple of dawn.  Lazy as I am, I didn't catch it at dawn; I went just before sunrise.  I didn't find an entry to enter any of the structures, so I don't have anything interesting to tell you, except that the French woman who was cautiously descending the steep steps of the central tower said something about the descent reminded her of a Mayan ruins in Mexico.  That's all I got - it's been a while since I learned French, give me a break.  Besides, I deliberately stayed several steps behind her so that in case she fell, she wouldn't take me down with her.

One final touristic attraction to tell you about is Jim Thompson's house.  To make a long story short, good old Jim was an American Architect born in 1906 who was sent to Thailand as a military officer.  He fell in love with the country as well as its beautiful silk.  He later settled in Thailand, exported Thai silk, and made truck loads of money.  So basically what you have here is the story of Madame Butterfly, except Japan is now Thailand and Cio-Cio san becomes Thai silk.

But I digress.  At some point in his life, he saw a Chinese fortune teller who made some calculations and told him that 61 would not be a good year for him; the piece of paper on which this was written is on display in the house.  On March 26, 1967, Jim visited the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia and disappeared.  He was 61 years old.  Goosebumps and chills, right?

One little interesting thing I learned during the guided tour at his old residence was that most homes and business in Thailand have a small spirit house, which is a small altar or shrine meant to house old spirits.  It is typically placed in one corner of the property such that the shadow of the main house would never fall upon the spirit house.  Now that's respect.  Or simply fear.  I think they often go hand in hand.  Human beings tend to respect and fear the unknown.

But I wondered about something else when I heard this tidbit.  Is there a part of me that's constantly in my own shadow?  And is there a part of me that I'm always protecting to never be in the shadow?

positively bangkok

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Actually, in this case, it's:  When in Bangkok, do as the tourists do.

I got a massage.  How can you not when it's $30 USD per hour.  So I did.  One and a half hours of aromatherapy oil massage and one hour of foot reflexology.  Life is good, and very short, when you're lying naked on a massage table, the lights are dimmed, half-cheesy and half-hypnotizing music is playing in the background, and a pair of hands is roaming all over you.  I think I'll do it again today.  Sorry, no pictures of that to show you all.

Part of the adventure of going on a foreign journey is in meeting fellow travelers whose spirit dwarfs yours and whose sense of exploration makes you feeling like nothing but a simple tourist.  While in Siem Reap, I met a Scot named Jed who has been traveling in Asia for over a year:  China, Nepal, India, Vietnam, Malaysia, Cambodia, Thailand, and a few others.  He has no clue how long he will stay in each city until after the fact - it's the definition of living day by day.

I asked him what prompted such a journey, and, like what some of you may be feeling, it was a discontent toward his work.  So he handed in his resignation letter one day, packed up his bags, sublet his apartment, and flew off.  Sounds romantic, doesn't it?  It's the stuff that movies are made off, but it's also the stuff that lives lived with courage and uncompromising ideals are made off.  When I told him I thought he was brave for such undertaking, he laughed and said that everyone tells him he's brave, but he never considered himself so - it was simply something he wanted to do, had to do.

So when we make a commentary on another person's life and experiences, is it in reality one on our own?  By my saying that he is brave, am I at the same time saying that I lack the courage to do the same?  What about criticisms?  Are they projections of our own sense of guilt and dissatisfaction or reflections of our insecurities through an attempt by reprehend another?

Perhaps I should start being more positive.

You're all so pretty today.  And hot, sexy, irresistible.  Someone tie me down!

questions and answers

infamous bangkok traffic

Shopping.

Supposedly tons of people come to Bangkok just to shop.  I can see why.  But not really.

Certainly the destination for shopping must include the Siam area, which is where I spent most of my day today.  Within the span of three blocks, there are at least eight gigantic shopping megacomplexes, each grander than the next:  Siam Center, Siam Discovery Center, MBK, Central, Erawan Bangkok, Central, Paragon, and Gaysorn.  If an ambitious person who forgets to take his psychiatric medication suddenly comes into a large sum of money by killing his dearest relative and chooses to visit every store in every mall on this strip, it would take her more than a couple of days to do so.  I haven't killed anyone and I'm not on any psychiatric medication, so I just paid a quick visit to each place to see what the hype is all about.  Here's my report:

Cons:
1.  Many of these malls have the same retail stores:  BOSS, Cartier, Prada, Burberry, Giordana, Comme des Garçons, etc.  Why the repetition?
2.  The floors are so slippery that I almost slid onto my cherished butt a couple of times.  Maybe it's the flip-flops I was wearing.
3.  Once you walk in to a mall, you are no longer in Bangkok.  You are in any mall in any large city on earth.  Give me a unique, local store that sells things I can't buy elsewhere.  Let's reverse globalization!
4.  The prices are all quite high.  I compared a product whose price I know in the US and in Taiwan (fine, I admit it, it's Shiseido Men's facial cleanser - for men, okay!), and it is about 30% more expensive in Bangkok. 

Pros:
1.  The air conditioning in each complex is a most welcomed reprieve from the scorching sun.  It's like going from the ninth level of hell, according to Dante, and ascending to heaven via direct flight, bypassing all the middle levels where tongues are pulled out and eyes gouged.

 

 

2.  The food courts!!!  Every mall has at least one floor where the famished shopper, due to all that walking no doubt, can refill in between Dior and Gucci.  I've included four pictures:  they are not four separate food courts, they are all one floor at Siam Paragon, taken in different directions.

I settled in front of this aquarium for lunch, enjoying my delicious Thai noodle soup for 45 baht ($1.50 USD).  The beautiful white fish were stimulating as a visual feast, but what was more entertaining was this child sitting across from me refusing to eat her (I think it was a she, but hard to tell) lunch.  She kept turning her head away every time her poor mom tried to feed her.  Surely reminded me of myself when I was her age.  Finally, the mom put an iPad in front of her and played what I assumed was some program to the effect of Sponge Bob Square Pants.  Then every time the mom pointed at a fish, the girl would be distracted enough to open her mouth, just long enough for a spoonful of food to enter and exit.  What did people do before iPods, iPhones, and iPads?  I am proud to say I own none of those.  Yet.

The Erawan Shrine houses a golden statue of a four-faced Buddha.  The four faces grant wishes in career, love, wealth, and health.  If your wish comes true, you need to return to the Shrine and either buy some flowers or pay for the dancers nearby to perform a ceremonial song and dance.  Your choice.

Doraemon - my favorite since childhood

In the evening, I planted myself at a window seat in Coffee Society, got my Thai iced tea for the occasional leisurely sip, and took out my pen and notebook - it was time for some people watching and daydream writing:

The salesgirl at the shoe stand outside - I wonder what she's reading.  What is life like for a twenty-some year old Bangkok girl who sells shoes at the night market?  Does she have siblings?  What do her parents do?  What does she do in the day?  Perhaps she is in school.  What was her last big purchase?  Does she have a significant other?  Is she a virgin?  Who is that woman who just sat down next to her?  I wish she would move away.  Will I ever be forward enough to get these questions answers instead of just wondering?