Bug over, bring on the pizza, but hold the ketchup

There are many experiences to be had in Thailand—noshing on roadside food, bargaining down to the last baht in the weekend market, getting an hour-long foot massage for about five bucks, to name a few. But you’re not fully initiated until you get some good bacterial food poisoning that makes it nearly impossible to leave the apartment. I hosted some kind of parasite about a month after moving here, but haven’t had any problems since then until last week. This time around I hastened recovery by spending 24 hours in the hospital hooked to a constant drip of fluids and antibiotics. The hospital I go to is unbelievably nice, even a little surreal. Bright, shiny and distinctly modern down to the white Barcelona-style chairs grouped in mass in all the waiting rooms, it’s more akin to a spa than any hospital I’ve been to in the US. All of the nurses wear skirt suits, heels, nurse’s caps, and a wide smile (come to think of it, I have yet to see a male nurse, I suppose due to the more defined gender roles here). Anyway, it was actually kind of nice to give in and let food and drinks come to me. I left my apartment in a hurry, intending on a quick appointment to rule out dengue or anything wild like that, not even grabbing a book. A book was exactly what I first longed for when I agreed to stay, but all literary inclinations were forgotten once I found the remote control. I grew determined to make up for a year of almost no TV, devouring National Geographic, CNN, BBC, Oprah, CSI, and my new favorite sitcom. Was I just that light-headed or is The Nanny really one of the funniest shows ever created? I pledged to buy the whole set on DVD and was disappointed to learn later that only the first two seasons are available. Ah well, maybe I can catch reruns when I’m back in the States.

Oh, and by the way, I’m 100% better now. I even ordered a pizza the other night for the first time since moving here. My medium pepperoni pie arrived with six packets of ketchup, a Thai fascination I don’t really understand. Most Thais will completely smother non-Thai food—pizza, pasta, sandwiches—with ketchup or chili sauce to give it more flavor. I love how humorous cultural differences can be. Like this one: It’s perfectly acceptable to pick your nose here (I’m talking half a finger outta sight) and then examine the, uh, fruits of your labor. Then on the other hand (forgive me), it’s seen as completely repulsive to bite your nails or put your fingers in your mouth, actions that are fairly innocuous to Westerners. You funny, funny world.

[Writing this blog sometimes gives me ideas of pictures I need to take. I'll add one to this post later. It's either going to be a ketchup-covered pizza or someone digging. Got a preference?]

More on Chiang Mai

I spent most of my time in Chiang Mai catching up with people I got to know last year and seeing some temples that I never got around to during that time.

A girl friend and I were out one night when we realized the tendency men have for comparing women’s features to animals. A guy approached our table and told her she has eyes like a panda during the day and like a cat at night. That reminded me of P’Tom who tells me he likes my chicken egg face and rabbit teeth. (Apparently, it’s a plus here if your two front teeth are longer than the rest, and there was even a time when hi-so women were shelling out for the dental work to accomplish this).

Another observation: As much as I love Chiang Mai, Bangkok has it beat for sure in one area—public transportation. In Bangkok, almost every place you’d need to go is convenient to a skytrain stop. And if it’s not, you just flag down a taxi anywhere, anytime—for cheap. Chiang Mai has overpriced tuk-tuks and songthaews that can be hard to find at times. Most people who live there depend on motorbikes, so if you won’t ride one, you’d better be prepared to stand your ground against a lot of peer pressure. I’m one of the rare few who won’t but for what I consider pretty good reasons. It was just about five years ago I was learning how to walk again, and once in a lifetime is enough for that. During rehab, I also met enough people there because of motorcycle accidents to dissuade me from ever riding one. Despite this, I really did almost give in for a short ride with a guy who swore on his safety. Last second, though, I couldn’t do it and shared a pricy tuk-tuk with someone else. When we all reached our next destination, the girl who did ride on the back of his bike was very shaken and scratched up. They had had an accident on the way over and she fell off, but luckily walked away with only scratches down one leg and arm. Because they were both foreigners and collided with Thais, they had to give all their money or deal with the police. No matter whose fault it is, the foreigner will always pay, and the police will make especially sure of this (they would get a cut of course).

This obviously affirmed my mistrust of motorbikes. It also reminded me of a Thai guy I know in Bangkok who wrecked his bike once, smashing all of the bones on the left side of his face. After many surgeries, he wrecked his bike again and smashed all the bones on the right side of his face. Sounds tragic, but he claims it’s okay. After the first wreck, he was ugly on one side and handsome on the other, but after the second, he was ugly on both so at least it’s even now. Gotta know how to look at the bright side I guess!

Back in Chiang Mai

I remember now why I loved this small city so much when I lived here during the first six weeks of my time in Thailand. The (relatively) fresh air, mountainous backdrop, and denizens so laid-back they make Bangkokians look uptight (wow, how will I ever adjust to the American pace again?). I'm here now on term break and feel so re-energized. Don't get me wrong - Bangkok has its own special place in my heart. I'm content with loving each place for very different reasons.

I arrived by overnight train, which left Bangkok at 10pm and reached Chiang Mai about 15 hours later. Sounds unpleasant, which is why my expectations were low, but I actually loved the experience. Reading at length, staring out of the window at gorgeous scenes passing by like a picture show, chatting with people from all over...these are things you just can't get on an hour flight (not to mention train travel is much more economical). Rumors of a frigid first class convinced me to go for second. With a fan and cool air blowing through open windows, its temperature was perfect. A look at my mattress in the morning light, though, revealed all that accompanied that nice breeze. Dead mosquitoes and even a huge moth peppered an area too close to my pillow. Note for the return trip: sleep with head toward the front of the train for minimal critter contact. Despite having a semi-conscious sense that this was happening (I had a very vivid dream involving mosquitoes), the constant, rather loud "clickety clack" of the wheels underneath and the frequent and sudden jolts, I managed some sound stints of sleep. The trick? Earplugs and an eye mask. Never travel without them. I woke rested to a splendid morning in the countryside.

So now I have about 24 more hours before hopping on the train again. I'll post pictures and more words when I get back to Bangkok!

Corn, anyone?

As you can see, I’ve been toying with my masthead again. (I pick at my scabs, too, if anyone's wondering.) And I'll probably change it again when the whim strikes. I also added a link to my flickr page. I’ve been playing catch-up with my photos the past few weeks because I haven’t been good about putting them up as I take them. I still have a backlog, though, and hope to add the rest soon. Unfortunately, all this additional work caused my external hard drive—the one holding all of my photos—to go on strike. She’s flat out refusing to do any work. I’m keeping fingers tightly crossed that it’s a temporary tantrum and peace will be restored shortly (that’s all up to the manufacturer now). Luckily, I copied everything onto DVDs at the end of May, but that still leaves two months worth of photos hanging in the balance.

Last week I also became preoccupied with another online site. To quote Daniel (high school friend Daniel who visited Thailand, not Thailand friend Daniel) “the unstoppable machine that is Facebook.” The fears that kept me at bay were warranted: I’m totally addicted. It’s been so much fun reconnecting with friends I haven’t talked to in years. If you’re on there, please look me up, maybe even leave a note on my wall!

Bangkok, there's no other place like you

Oh, my poor neglected blog. I haven’t laid eyes on you in almost a month. Since the last post, I’ve celebrated my year anniversary of moving to Thailand. That's right, hard to believe a year has passed since I was giddy in Sarah’s apartment, filled with all the excitement that comes with moving to a new place. And, of course, much more motivated to record my experiences. I suppose now that my surroundings have become so familiar, it all seems less blog-worthy. I got a laugh the other night at how accustomed I’ve grown to the way of life here when I caught myself washing my spoon—yes I only own one spoon—rather than using my fork—yes, only one fork as well—to eat the veggies and rice I brought home. I was alone in my apartment but still didn’t like the idea of a fork in my mouth. A spoon just seems much kinder now. Last night I was eating dinner with Toby and Isabella when the evening downpour came (a regular event this time of year). The restaurant we call Ms. Jazz (the owner’s nickname because she loves jazz music) sits at a slant off the little street. Water poured in, flooding the cement floor and pushing us down the table to escape its reach. Finally, the three of us were crowded at the end with somewhat submerged feet (hard to see the water in the picture above, but it’s there). Waitresses were sloshing through the water in flip-flops and Ms. Jazz was laughing, “every year, every year”. This all didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me until Isabella asked me to hand her my camera.

All that said, what I love most about Bangkok is that no matter how long you (a farang) live here, you’ll never fully acclimate and understand everything around you. Even friends of mine who’ve lived here for years have daily cause to shake their heads and think “only in Thailand”. A small, inexplicable fire in the middle of the sidewalk that the Thais just walk around without batting an eye. A group of high school students gathered around a bright pink jam box, engaged in a dance-off. A student who wants to change her attendance card because her first and last names are now completely different (probably because the family had some back luck and attributed it to the name), and our admissions personnel who see this often enough to consider it routine. Just a few examples of the random and comical or baffling encounters that endlessly entertain here. It's too bad I can't do them justice with words, but I'll keep trying.

Mangroves

I forgot to show you the mangroves. Cool, huh? How do they do that? The colorful structure in the background is the seafood restaurant where we ate lunch.

Details of a traditional Thai home at the park we visited:



Gold coins outside of a temple. Placing coins in the bowl that sits in front of the Buddha that corresponds to the day of the week you were born will afford you extra protection:

Sabai sabai

Hi friends, I hope you’re all enjoying your summer. I think the tables have turned now and your weather is actually hotter than mine. At least those of you in the Southeastern states. And though it's a little cooler here, it's still pretty darn hot. I've learned from the Thai women here and use an umbrella to block the sun. It's so much more pleasant, I don't see breaking that habit when I return so be warned: You may be embarrassed to be seen with me. Since I haven’t posted in a while, I have some catching up to do. I'll post some pictures below but I've taken many more recently. I'll try to put more up later this week.

A couple of weeks ago, I went with Natalia and Koi (above) to Dusit Zoo and the Vimanmek Teak Mansion, the world’s largest golden teakwood mansion. Natalia, from Colombia, was thrilled to see her first giraffe. It struck her that the pattern on the giraffe's skin looks like autumn leaves. She also saw her first zebra, this beautiful creature below.

The teak mansion was a real treat. A blend of Thai and European styles, it was built soon after King Rama V returned from Europe in 1897. It's apparently constructed without the use of nails and with interlocking pieces of wood. There's a glimpse of part of the complex behind Koi and me.

Also on the grounds are two exhibitions of the current king's own photography—I thoroughly enjoyed this look through his eyes—and a display of Thai transportation over the years.

Natalia and Koi were students in an advanced English class I taught. Five of the nine from that class are moving to the States next month to attend various post-graduate schools. Here, we asked a stranger to take a picture of the three of us. Turns out he's colleagues with another person in the class. Strange coincidence.

Eight of us from the class split into two cars last week and spent a full, adventurous day in the Samut Songkhram province, about an hour and a half southwest of Bangkok. Our first stop was the Mae Nam Mae Klong, where we boarded boats for a tour of riverside life.




The boats anchored and we slopped through the warm mud (I believe people pay a lot of money for this treatment at spas) on a search for worms with a tubular shell. Given that we had just studied endangered species, we felt a bit cruel putting the white powder given to us by our guides into the ground. This chemical causes the worm shells to spurt to the surface where our greedy, curious hands await.

Back on dry land, we steered ourselves and our huge appetites toward this easy riverside restaurant with incredible seafood. The wormy things were on the menu but we resisted after some great effort.

Next stop: the King Buddhalertla Naphalai Memorial Park with traditional Thai houses, lush gardens and lots of antiques.

We also visited the sweetest temple, completely covered in roots and vines.


As dusk neared, we rented a boat and boarded with our dinner: sticky rice, grilled pork on sticks and desserts that are like little pancake tacos with custard in the middle. The boat stopped at this coffee shop below where we bought traditional Thai lemon tea for the ride.

We were let out at this gilded temple that houses the intact skeletal remains of a famous monk in a glass casket. These remains are on a shelf above an eerie wax version of the monk. A downpour actually kept us here for about an hour, but when it stopped we continued on and had the river completely to ourselves for the trip finale. Trees and bushes all along the river were lit up like Christmas trees with fireflies. It was a spectacular sight, particularly against the quietness of the night. Our boat driver said that on weekend nights, a couple hundred boats are all competing for this same view. Most of the tourists who come to this area are Thai so I felt like I had a truly local experience. Definitely a day I won't soon forget.

I also went to Koh Samet for a few days and planned on posting those pictures as well, but I'll save them for next time. Until then, sabai sabai (a commonly used Thai phrase meaning relax or take it easy). I think I'm more directing this to myself as I'm a little nervous about the start of the new term tomorrow. I'll be teaching my first corporate course. Because the school where I teach is such an institution here, companies frequently call requesting teachers. Should be fun though!