Days in country: 68
Total hours spent in the air to get here/back: 26
Time zones crossed: 13 (we took the long way)
Modes of Transportation: 7
Bags brought over: 1
Bags coming back: 2
Socks coming back: 2 (on my feet)
Length of my commute to work each morning, in minutes: 3
Loads of laundry: maybe 8
Plates of Pad Thai consumed: 4
Plates of Pad sie ew consumed: at least 20
Different brands of Thai beer consumed: 5
Brands of GOOD Thai beer consumed: 1
Most people seen on one motorcycle: 5 (the whole family)
Minutes left on my cell phone: 0, as of today
Amount of tea I’m bringing back, in pounds: over 3
Pictures taken: 595 (as of last count)
Cultural/Animal Performance shows seen: 8
Buddha images: innumerable
Instances of illness: just 1, brought on by western drugs
Major trips out of Bangkok: 7
Motorcycle crashes: 2 (one by me, one by Joey)
Cockroaches seen in our room: 4
Cockroaches killed in our room: 0
Cab drivers that speak English: 3
Red light districts visited: 2
Farang jokes: too many to count
The look on their faces when they realize you know enough Thai to tell when they’re making farang jokes: priceless
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Things I've Eaten
1. Bitter Melon
2. Tentacles (don’t know what they originally belonged to)
3. Pig’s kidneys
4. Jellyfish
5. Mangosteen (delicious)
6. Rambutan
7. Mandarin Apple
8. Jackfruit
9. Frog
10. Fish Eggs
11. Eel (also very good)
12. Marinated Salty Guava
13. Longan
14. Durian (eat THAT, Zimmern)
15. Squid
16. Pig’s liver
17. Morning Glory (it’s a plant)
18. Thai Chilies
19. Fishballs (like Gefelte Fish)
20. Scorpion
21. Chicken feet
22. Lotus root
23. Lychee
24. Bird’s nest soup
25. Traditional Chinese Medicine (I have no idea what this actually was, but it tasted like Craisins)
This list is not exhaustive. It contains only the things that I both thought were remotely interesting and remembered to write down. Of these, by far my favorite was the mangosteen, which Jules Verne describes in Around the World in 80 Days as, "a fruit of the size of an average apple, dark brown outside and bright red inside, and whose white flesh, as it melts in the mouth, gives your real epicure a delicious sensation like none other." Pig kidneys, on the other hand, taste like bad hot dogs.
2. Tentacles (don’t know what they originally belonged to)
3. Pig’s kidneys
4. Jellyfish
5. Mangosteen (delicious)
6. Rambutan
7. Mandarin Apple
8. Jackfruit
9. Frog
10. Fish Eggs
11. Eel (also very good)
12. Marinated Salty Guava
13. Longan
14. Durian (eat THAT, Zimmern)
15. Squid
16. Pig’s liver
17. Morning Glory (it’s a plant)
18. Thai Chilies
19. Fishballs (like Gefelte Fish)
20. Scorpion
21. Chicken feet
22. Lotus root
23. Lychee
24. Bird’s nest soup
25. Traditional Chinese Medicine (I have no idea what this actually was, but it tasted like Craisins)
This list is not exhaustive. It contains only the things that I both thought were remotely interesting and remembered to write down. Of these, by far my favorite was the mangosteen, which Jules Verne describes in Around the World in 80 Days as, "a fruit of the size of an average apple, dark brown outside and bright red inside, and whose white flesh, as it melts in the mouth, gives your real epicure a delicious sensation like none other." Pig kidneys, on the other hand, taste like bad hot dogs.
Perfunctory closing entries
With my time in Thailand running out, we're now at the point of the customary series of closing blog posts. I'm going to try and put these together over the course of today and post them as I go before my last entry (at least from Bangkok), which will go up tomorrow night (pending internet access). Let's begin, shall we?
The Week in Review: Last Edition
Alternative titles I considered for this entry include: “Sex and Violence”, “Shop ‘till You’re Incapacitated”, “Engineering in the New Getting Wasted”, and “Sex and the City”. However, I’ve elected to go with the far less interesting moniker at the top of this page, mostly because it allows me to combine the narratives of all recent events together into one glorious amalgam of a blog entry.
For starters, last Friday. It was my last Friday in the city, and I hadn’t had a chance to go yet, so we hopped in a taxi and said, “Patpong”, at which point the driver just laughed. For those without access to Wikipedia (and oh what a terrible life that would be), Patpong is probably the most notorious red-light district in the world. After the craziness of the strip in Pattaya, I had high expectations for the vast expanse of crudely rendered neon signs. I have to say that I was disappointed. For all the hype, Patpong was nowhere near as nuts as Pattaya. We did, however, still get to gawk at our fair share of older overweight nerdy white guys trying to impress Thai girls half their age. Desperate losers=hilarious.
The next day, Joey and I decided to take in another very Thai tradition that we’d yet to experience: Muay Thai fights. When we got out of the cab, we were immediately assaulted by a large motherly looking figure who asked us in perfect English if we wanted to watch Thai boxing. She had credentials around her neck, so we figured she was pretty legit, plus she was engaging us in this whole transaction in plain view of the ticket sellers and security guards at the stadium. We let her talk us into ringside seats, which we paid for before she put a sticker on each of our shirts, gave us a receipt, and told us to come back in 2 hours. Giving money to sweet talking strangers is always a little dicey, especially when she gives you stickers that are clearly not in Thai, but in Japanese.
We wandered around for a while to kill some time while we both hoped to ourselves that we hadn’t just been taken for a ride. Fortunately, it didn’t turn out to be a scam, though it was a precisely run plan aimed squarely at tourists. Our seats were great, front row right behind the one of the judges, but I’m pretty sure there was not a single Thai person sitting in the section with us. The fights were great though, much more entertaining then any boxing I’ve seen on TV (not much). Muay Thai is much more dynamic, since you’re allowed to strike with your fists, feet, elbows, and knees. Part of me was really looking for the Rocky theme to start blaring when one guy landed the old “flying elbow to the top of the head” maneuver on his opponent who had previously been kicking the krap out of him.
With regards to the title about shopping, I still can’t get over the size of the malls here. On Sunday, and again on Monday, I went to two such establishments, and managed to get thoroughly lost in both of them. I can not for the life of me figure out how all these stores selling essentially the same products don’t drive each other our of business. I could very easily picture a conversation involving a mall worker going like this:
“I work at McDonald’s at MBK”
“Oh really? The one on the 7th floor or the one on the 4th floor?”
“No, the one in the basement”.
Humanity has reached a new low in the realm of fast food, where mall owners don’t want to impose on their shopper by making them go downstairs to the Mickey D’s. Instead, they just build another one on the upper floor.
Lastly, my favorite event of the week happened last night, when two professors and an assortment of grad students decided to have a party in honor of my departure, complete with traditional Thai food staples including pizza, KFC, and prodigious quantities of Singha. I won’t get into the gory details of this event, though I will mention the best line of the evening was when Nai got up to pee by announcing, “I am NOT at steady state!”. For my part, I opened beer bottles with a mallet we had lying around before leading the assembled masses (including my professor) in a rousing rendition of “Boots the Cat”.* Best. Night. Ever.
*I am not making this up.
For starters, last Friday. It was my last Friday in the city, and I hadn’t had a chance to go yet, so we hopped in a taxi and said, “Patpong”, at which point the driver just laughed. For those without access to Wikipedia (and oh what a terrible life that would be), Patpong is probably the most notorious red-light district in the world. After the craziness of the strip in Pattaya, I had high expectations for the vast expanse of crudely rendered neon signs. I have to say that I was disappointed. For all the hype, Patpong was nowhere near as nuts as Pattaya. We did, however, still get to gawk at our fair share of older overweight nerdy white guys trying to impress Thai girls half their age. Desperate losers=hilarious.
The next day, Joey and I decided to take in another very Thai tradition that we’d yet to experience: Muay Thai fights. When we got out of the cab, we were immediately assaulted by a large motherly looking figure who asked us in perfect English if we wanted to watch Thai boxing. She had credentials around her neck, so we figured she was pretty legit, plus she was engaging us in this whole transaction in plain view of the ticket sellers and security guards at the stadium. We let her talk us into ringside seats, which we paid for before she put a sticker on each of our shirts, gave us a receipt, and told us to come back in 2 hours. Giving money to sweet talking strangers is always a little dicey, especially when she gives you stickers that are clearly not in Thai, but in Japanese.
We wandered around for a while to kill some time while we both hoped to ourselves that we hadn’t just been taken for a ride. Fortunately, it didn’t turn out to be a scam, though it was a precisely run plan aimed squarely at tourists. Our seats were great, front row right behind the one of the judges, but I’m pretty sure there was not a single Thai person sitting in the section with us. The fights were great though, much more entertaining then any boxing I’ve seen on TV (not much). Muay Thai is much more dynamic, since you’re allowed to strike with your fists, feet, elbows, and knees. Part of me was really looking for the Rocky theme to start blaring when one guy landed the old “flying elbow to the top of the head” maneuver on his opponent who had previously been kicking the krap out of him.
With regards to the title about shopping, I still can’t get over the size of the malls here. On Sunday, and again on Monday, I went to two such establishments, and managed to get thoroughly lost in both of them. I can not for the life of me figure out how all these stores selling essentially the same products don’t drive each other our of business. I could very easily picture a conversation involving a mall worker going like this:
“I work at McDonald’s at MBK”
“Oh really? The one on the 7th floor or the one on the 4th floor?”
“No, the one in the basement”.
Humanity has reached a new low in the realm of fast food, where mall owners don’t want to impose on their shopper by making them go downstairs to the Mickey D’s. Instead, they just build another one on the upper floor.
Lastly, my favorite event of the week happened last night, when two professors and an assortment of grad students decided to have a party in honor of my departure, complete with traditional Thai food staples including pizza, KFC, and prodigious quantities of Singha. I won’t get into the gory details of this event, though I will mention the best line of the evening was when Nai got up to pee by announcing, “I am NOT at steady state!”. For my part, I opened beer bottles with a mallet we had lying around before leading the assembled masses (including my professor) in a rousing rendition of “Boots the Cat”.* Best. Night. Ever.
*I am not making this up.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Exploring the Northwest Territory: Part 4 (The Thrilling Conclusion)
Our last day in Chiang Mai was far and away my favorite. We immediately got off to a good start by mobilizing a half and hour later than recent days. This didn’t really affect my routine at all, it just meant that Joey and I went from being late to on time. Our previous tardiness had nothing to do with an inability to get up, but the impossible task of tearing ourselves away from the buffet.
With the Ring of Power long since destroyed, we turned to a little Pixar for our automotive entertainment needs. However, Ratatouille may not have been the best choice for the day, since we were headed up the nearby mountain. I’ve always enjoyed a good set of switchbacks, especially when not on foot, but the motion of the van mixed with Remy’s wild run through Gusteau’s kitchen induced nausea in everyone else by me.
Finally, after a wild ride up the road that probably could’ve used a few more guard rails, we arrived at Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, which is nestled right into the side of the mountain itself. After two months running around this country, I’ve seen enough temples to have them coming out my bot. This one, the last we’ll visit in Thailand, blew them all away, though the epic staircase leading to the main complex itself blew our lungs away first.
The contents of this place were notable well beyond the standard array of wat décor, like the large central Buddha image and towering chedi (this one was especially shiny). For example, the enormous nipple gong (oh, don’t worry, this entry is about to get way more immature in a few paragraphs) which made a sound that literally shakes you to the core. Even more impressive than that though, was the cloudscape that surrounded the entire back half of the complex.
I believe that, in order for any travel experience to be truly considered an “adventure”, one needs to experience that singular moment that compels you to stop and, essentially involuntarily, utter the word, “whoa”. For me, Doi Suthep has now joined the ranks of the flight of the flying foxes along the Ord River, the Italian world cup celebration/riot, and my first steps onto the Giza Plateau as one of these moments. Since it had rained the night before, the cloud cover was still very low and the sky was a thick overcast. Watching all of this stretching off into the distance, I got a clear sense of why they built a religious monument here.
After staring off into space for a solid 20 minutes, we headed back down the long staircase and made our way to our next destination. Before I get into this one, I should point out that I had no idea that we were going to this place until a few hours beforehand, and that all previous blog entries were written without that knowledge. With that said, as you can probably imagine, pulling into the parking lot at the Winter Palace of Phu Ping was like Christmas in July.
I told you it was going to get more immature.
This place had some awesome signs. I think my personal favorite was the Phu Ping Police Dept., but the possibilities are endless. Once we got into the complex though, the place was as classy as one might expect for the king’s winter place. There were thousands of immaculately landscaped flower patches, including one surrounding the His Majesty’s royal satellite dish, as well as one of those dancing fountains that’s tuned to a soundtrack. Thankfully, when we did encounter hilarious signage, we were able to control ourselves.
That night, we had dinner on our own, so Joey and I promptly returned to the Red Lion before one final sweep of the night bazaar for any last minute purchases. We had to get up absurdly early the next morning (5:30?!?) to get on the road. A little atlas searching reveals that the distance from Chiang Mai to Bangkok is about the same as Boston to Rochester. However, we had to stop along the way for a tour of the coal power station at Mae Mhor. I’m fairly sure the only reason we went was because the program is sponsored by the National Science Foundation, and as such they require at least three “science-related” excursions. Around 6 hours later (it took 2 to get to the plant), we rolled back into the KMUTT parking lot, piled in the elevator, and crashed. All in all, a very successful “holiday”.
With the Ring of Power long since destroyed, we turned to a little Pixar for our automotive entertainment needs. However, Ratatouille may not have been the best choice for the day, since we were headed up the nearby mountain. I’ve always enjoyed a good set of switchbacks, especially when not on foot, but the motion of the van mixed with Remy’s wild run through Gusteau’s kitchen induced nausea in everyone else by me.
Finally, after a wild ride up the road that probably could’ve used a few more guard rails, we arrived at Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, which is nestled right into the side of the mountain itself. After two months running around this country, I’ve seen enough temples to have them coming out my bot. This one, the last we’ll visit in Thailand, blew them all away, though the epic staircase leading to the main complex itself blew our lungs away first.
The contents of this place were notable well beyond the standard array of wat décor, like the large central Buddha image and towering chedi (this one was especially shiny). For example, the enormous nipple gong (oh, don’t worry, this entry is about to get way more immature in a few paragraphs) which made a sound that literally shakes you to the core. Even more impressive than that though, was the cloudscape that surrounded the entire back half of the complex.
I believe that, in order for any travel experience to be truly considered an “adventure”, one needs to experience that singular moment that compels you to stop and, essentially involuntarily, utter the word, “whoa”. For me, Doi Suthep has now joined the ranks of the flight of the flying foxes along the Ord River, the Italian world cup celebration/riot, and my first steps onto the Giza Plateau as one of these moments. Since it had rained the night before, the cloud cover was still very low and the sky was a thick overcast. Watching all of this stretching off into the distance, I got a clear sense of why they built a religious monument here.
After staring off into space for a solid 20 minutes, we headed back down the long staircase and made our way to our next destination. Before I get into this one, I should point out that I had no idea that we were going to this place until a few hours beforehand, and that all previous blog entries were written without that knowledge. With that said, as you can probably imagine, pulling into the parking lot at the Winter Palace of Phu Ping was like Christmas in July.
I told you it was going to get more immature.
This place had some awesome signs. I think my personal favorite was the Phu Ping Police Dept., but the possibilities are endless. Once we got into the complex though, the place was as classy as one might expect for the king’s winter place. There were thousands of immaculately landscaped flower patches, including one surrounding the His Majesty’s royal satellite dish, as well as one of those dancing fountains that’s tuned to a soundtrack. Thankfully, when we did encounter hilarious signage, we were able to control ourselves.
That night, we had dinner on our own, so Joey and I promptly returned to the Red Lion before one final sweep of the night bazaar for any last minute purchases. We had to get up absurdly early the next morning (5:30?!?) to get on the road. A little atlas searching reveals that the distance from Chiang Mai to Bangkok is about the same as Boston to Rochester. However, we had to stop along the way for a tour of the coal power station at Mae Mhor. I’m fairly sure the only reason we went was because the program is sponsored by the National Science Foundation, and as such they require at least three “science-related” excursions. Around 6 hours later (it took 2 to get to the plant), we rolled back into the KMUTT parking lot, piled in the elevator, and crashed. All in all, a very successful “holiday”.
Exploring the Northwest Territory: Part 3
That night, once we’d arrived in Chiang Mai and checked into our hotel (the Imperial Mae Ping, ooh la la!), we made our way over to Chiang Mai’s famous night bazaar. The night bazaar isn’t really a specific place, so much as a series of streets lined with pushcarts surrounding buildings with more pushcarts. Lots of cool things to be had here, and I think I actually bought more stuff here than I did at JJ market. Still being only one of two guys on this adventure, I wound up my shopping experience much faster than others of our group. Thus, Joey and I went and found a place more to our liking that we’d read about on Wikitravel: The Red Lion Pub. Not as good as The Londoner, but still serves products better than Chang.
Speaking of chang, the next day we made our official obligatory pilgrimage to the nearby elephant farm (coincidentally, also the filming location for parts of Rambo 4) for the official obligatory elephant ride. For those who are familiar with my Dad’s blog about our Egypt trip from 10 years ago (holy crap I’m old), you will recall my distaste for methods of transportation requiring large mammals. This whole experience has revolved around trying new things and exploring beyond the western comfort zone, so I gainfully hopped aboard. Turns out, not much has changed in those 10 years. I’d still rather ride the motorcycle through the muddy jungle after the rainstorm than Dumbo.
I’m guessing Joey might have said the same, since after we returned to base, he noticed that his wallet was not in the pocket where he left it. After a little running around, we determined that it was probably off somewhere in the jungle, though I suggested that he stick to the version of the story where the elephant attacked him, stole his wallet, and ate it. Not to worry, he managed to get everything taken care of, though I guess there’s always the chance that a band of enterprising monkeys could try to steal his identity. Still, he dealt with the whole situation way more calmly than I would have. I don’t know what I would do if I lost my miniature high school diploma given to me by Beverly National Bank.
In the afternoon, we decided to stop by one of the nearby national parks, partially because as one of my colleagues put it, “but, we haven’t seen a waterfall yet!!” I have to admit, my expectations for this endeavor were pretty low, especially when I walked to the edge of the parking lot and saw a mediocre trickle flowing over some equally mediocre rocks. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that this was only one of ten waterfalls in the park, and that there was actually a solid dose of hiking required to see them all. The Boy Scout in me lurched into gear, and we headed off into the jungle (again). The scenic forest combined with the layer of extremely slippery algae/moss that destroyed any semblance of traction made this an exciting little junket, one which reminded me of the Daintree forest north of Cairns, Australia.
After a day of jungle exploration, we were all in need of nourishment. To fix this, we sat down to a traditional kantoke dinner. A moment of explanation: I don’t actually know what “kantoke” means, though I’m guessing it could mean anything from “traditional northern Thai meal” to “dinner and a show” to “take of your shoes, sit on the floor, and make a mess of your pant legs”. I asked about this, and no one seemed to be able to give me a straight answer. Anyway, the food was delicious, even though I did get about equal portions on my clothes as in my system (occupational hazard, I’ll deal with it). The traditional northern curried pork was especially good, and I nabbed most of the leftovers until they were no longer left over. The cultural show was essentially the same routine we’d seen before, with the standard series of Thai dances and musical performances. At the end though, they invited members of the audience up on stage to dance with them. Had I known this was going to happen, I would’ve postponed my bathroom visit. Had I known that the “take off your shoes” rule also applied to the bathroom, I really would’ve postponed it.* Still, I managed to make it home and crash into bed, albeit with a few more bacterial stowaways in tow.
*This wasn’t nearly as gross as it could’ve been, and for this I am truly thankful.
Speaking of chang, the next day we made our official obligatory pilgrimage to the nearby elephant farm (coincidentally, also the filming location for parts of Rambo 4) for the official obligatory elephant ride. For those who are familiar with my Dad’s blog about our Egypt trip from 10 years ago (holy crap I’m old), you will recall my distaste for methods of transportation requiring large mammals. This whole experience has revolved around trying new things and exploring beyond the western comfort zone, so I gainfully hopped aboard. Turns out, not much has changed in those 10 years. I’d still rather ride the motorcycle through the muddy jungle after the rainstorm than Dumbo.
I’m guessing Joey might have said the same, since after we returned to base, he noticed that his wallet was not in the pocket where he left it. After a little running around, we determined that it was probably off somewhere in the jungle, though I suggested that he stick to the version of the story where the elephant attacked him, stole his wallet, and ate it. Not to worry, he managed to get everything taken care of, though I guess there’s always the chance that a band of enterprising monkeys could try to steal his identity. Still, he dealt with the whole situation way more calmly than I would have. I don’t know what I would do if I lost my miniature high school diploma given to me by Beverly National Bank.
In the afternoon, we decided to stop by one of the nearby national parks, partially because as one of my colleagues put it, “but, we haven’t seen a waterfall yet!!” I have to admit, my expectations for this endeavor were pretty low, especially when I walked to the edge of the parking lot and saw a mediocre trickle flowing over some equally mediocre rocks. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that this was only one of ten waterfalls in the park, and that there was actually a solid dose of hiking required to see them all. The Boy Scout in me lurched into gear, and we headed off into the jungle (again). The scenic forest combined with the layer of extremely slippery algae/moss that destroyed any semblance of traction made this an exciting little junket, one which reminded me of the Daintree forest north of Cairns, Australia.
After a day of jungle exploration, we were all in need of nourishment. To fix this, we sat down to a traditional kantoke dinner. A moment of explanation: I don’t actually know what “kantoke” means, though I’m guessing it could mean anything from “traditional northern Thai meal” to “dinner and a show” to “take of your shoes, sit on the floor, and make a mess of your pant legs”. I asked about this, and no one seemed to be able to give me a straight answer. Anyway, the food was delicious, even though I did get about equal portions on my clothes as in my system (occupational hazard, I’ll deal with it). The traditional northern curried pork was especially good, and I nabbed most of the leftovers until they were no longer left over. The cultural show was essentially the same routine we’d seen before, with the standard series of Thai dances and musical performances. At the end though, they invited members of the audience up on stage to dance with them. Had I known this was going to happen, I would’ve postponed my bathroom visit. Had I known that the “take off your shoes” rule also applied to the bathroom, I really would’ve postponed it.* Still, I managed to make it home and crash into bed, albeit with a few more bacterial stowaways in tow.
*This wasn’t nearly as gross as it could’ve been, and for this I am truly thankful.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Exploring the Northwest Territory: Part 2
Last night I did my final load of laundry of this adventure, and I managed to get it all finished right before they closed for the evening at midnight. This isn’t that exciting (well, it is for me, since I don’t have to do any more laundry), except that when I went back to reclaim my undies, I discovered a strange woman examining all my clothes. I think she was just the laundry lady wondering who on earth would be washing clothes at this time of night, but it was still a little interesting nonetheless. No harm though, I still have all my underwear (I counted). Anyway, back to the saga.
The next morning we got up early (again), and headed off to the Sukhothai Historical Park, which is the fancy name they give to the little gatehouse along the road that leads to all the cool ruins so they have an excuse to charge a foreigner entry fee. However, since last night was a Buddhist holiday, the entry fee was waved for today. Looks like my laps around the temple paid off, score a point for karma!
Like I said before, compared to the ruins at Ayutthaya, the remains of Sukhothai’s old city are in great shape. As Aeng described it, they’ve been “ruined” only by time. Since they’re so intact, and were so lavish to begin with, it’s easy to see why they’re still so impressive 800 years later. The first temple we stopped at housed a gargantuan plaster Buddha, one of the largest we’ve seen yet, which vaguely reminded me of the stature of the four depictions of the seated Ramesses II at Abu Simbel. Apparently, there used to be a passage with stairs leading up to a little window next to the Buddha’s ear where one could go up to talk with him, but after someone climbed out the window onto the statue itself, an extremely sacrilegious maneuver, the pathway was permanently closed. Even though we couldn’t get up that close, the statue was still impressive as it serenely towered over us.
Next we stopped at the main temple complex at Sukhothai, again, I don’t remember the name and even if I did I probably couldn’t pronounce it. This place was more like Karnak in Luxor than the temple at Abu Simbel, and had the same sort of never-ending feel to it. Got some great pictures, though I did get yelled at by Aeng for wandering off to take them. I guess it just proves the validity of genetics, especially the patrilineal ones.
After some serious wandering and photography, we piled back in the van to drive another 3 hours or so to Lampang, where we stopped to see, that’s right, another temple. This was built in the Lanna style of Northern Thailand, which after a solid 6 hours of Extended Edition Lord of the Rings, looked a little like Rohan.
My favorite aspect of this temple was not the gold-leaf chedi (spire-like reliquary at the center of every Therevada Buddhist temple) or the cool statues or anything like that. It was in a tiny building off to the side with apparently nothing extraordinary about it. Aeng tried to explain something about how the light from the chedi came through the hole and blah blah blah and women weren’t allowed to go inside. So, while the rest of the group headed off to see something else, Joey and I peeled off our shoes and up we went. The room was very tiny, with a traditional Buddha footprint in the middle and a white bedsheet hanging from the ceiling. We had no idea what we were supposed to see, and we didn’t want to touch and inadvertently desecrate anything. As we were about to give up trying to figure it out and leave, two well-dressed Thai men came up to join us. After walking in, they shut the door (this idea had never occurred to us). Through the dark shone a perfect image of the chedi projected onto the sheet. Viva la camera obscura! Goes to prove that the technology discussed on Beakman’s World is universally important.
As Joey and I descended the stairs discussing how cool all this was, we ran into a pleasant Thai girl who asked if she could interview us for her English project. We obligingly discussed the standard round of topics (Where are you from? Do you like Thailand?), until Aeng called me, again somewhat upset that we (I) was again delaying the party’s progress. She didn’t seem too impressed that we were helping with a local English project; I think she was worried the girl was going to scam us somehow. She rushed back over and proceeded to interrogate the girl about what school she went to and what her project was. Once she was convinced we weren’t going to get robbed/mugged/kidnapped/blunt force traumaed, she let us finish our thrilling conversation before boarding the van, queuing up the DVD player, and hitting the last of the road to Chiang Mai.
The next morning we got up early (again), and headed off to the Sukhothai Historical Park, which is the fancy name they give to the little gatehouse along the road that leads to all the cool ruins so they have an excuse to charge a foreigner entry fee. However, since last night was a Buddhist holiday, the entry fee was waved for today. Looks like my laps around the temple paid off, score a point for karma!
Like I said before, compared to the ruins at Ayutthaya, the remains of Sukhothai’s old city are in great shape. As Aeng described it, they’ve been “ruined” only by time. Since they’re so intact, and were so lavish to begin with, it’s easy to see why they’re still so impressive 800 years later. The first temple we stopped at housed a gargantuan plaster Buddha, one of the largest we’ve seen yet, which vaguely reminded me of the stature of the four depictions of the seated Ramesses II at Abu Simbel. Apparently, there used to be a passage with stairs leading up to a little window next to the Buddha’s ear where one could go up to talk with him, but after someone climbed out the window onto the statue itself, an extremely sacrilegious maneuver, the pathway was permanently closed. Even though we couldn’t get up that close, the statue was still impressive as it serenely towered over us.
Next we stopped at the main temple complex at Sukhothai, again, I don’t remember the name and even if I did I probably couldn’t pronounce it. This place was more like Karnak in Luxor than the temple at Abu Simbel, and had the same sort of never-ending feel to it. Got some great pictures, though I did get yelled at by Aeng for wandering off to take them. I guess it just proves the validity of genetics, especially the patrilineal ones.
After some serious wandering and photography, we piled back in the van to drive another 3 hours or so to Lampang, where we stopped to see, that’s right, another temple. This was built in the Lanna style of Northern Thailand, which after a solid 6 hours of Extended Edition Lord of the Rings, looked a little like Rohan.
My favorite aspect of this temple was not the gold-leaf chedi (spire-like reliquary at the center of every Therevada Buddhist temple) or the cool statues or anything like that. It was in a tiny building off to the side with apparently nothing extraordinary about it. Aeng tried to explain something about how the light from the chedi came through the hole and blah blah blah and women weren’t allowed to go inside. So, while the rest of the group headed off to see something else, Joey and I peeled off our shoes and up we went. The room was very tiny, with a traditional Buddha footprint in the middle and a white bedsheet hanging from the ceiling. We had no idea what we were supposed to see, and we didn’t want to touch and inadvertently desecrate anything. As we were about to give up trying to figure it out and leave, two well-dressed Thai men came up to join us. After walking in, they shut the door (this idea had never occurred to us). Through the dark shone a perfect image of the chedi projected onto the sheet. Viva la camera obscura! Goes to prove that the technology discussed on Beakman’s World is universally important.
As Joey and I descended the stairs discussing how cool all this was, we ran into a pleasant Thai girl who asked if she could interview us for her English project. We obligingly discussed the standard round of topics (Where are you from? Do you like Thailand?), until Aeng called me, again somewhat upset that we (I) was again delaying the party’s progress. She didn’t seem too impressed that we were helping with a local English project; I think she was worried the girl was going to scam us somehow. She rushed back over and proceeded to interrogate the girl about what school she went to and what her project was. Once she was convinced we weren’t going to get robbed/mugged/kidnapped/blunt force traumaed, she let us finish our thrilling conversation before boarding the van, queuing up the DVD player, and hitting the last of the road to Chiang Mai.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Exploring the Northwest Territory: Part 1
I’ve returned from our excursion to Chiang Mai intact, and now I’ve finally got a chance to document it. In the interests of smooth literary digestion, I’ll be separating the weekend’s events into a series of bite-size posts, rather than a single magnum opus. Let’s get down to business then.
We left at 7 am last Thursday, bleary-eyed with duffel bags in tow. Once again, I’m glad to have brought an extra bag wadded up in my suitcase. Five days worth of stuff is too much for a backpack, but not enough for a suitcase. Old 1980’s duffel bag, just right. After a few hours of driving (and viewing of the Lord of the Rings Extended Edition, which we killed off over about three days and is way better than the original trilogy), we stopped for lunch at Phitsanulok, a town famous for it’s Buddha images. The grandest of these is the Phrabuddha Chinaraoj, which is a classic giant gold Buddha in the Sukhothai style, similar to its formerly concrete-encrusted cousin now residing in Trimit Temple. Lunch in Phitsanulok was fun, mostly because we ate on a series of wooden docks floating on a small pond. Any table scraps get thrown to the large school of even larger fish that have got the system all figured out. In a somewhat macabre display of cannibalism, they loved the skeletons of the fried fish we ordered.
Once we and the Lecter-fish had eaten our fill, we pressed onward to Sukhothai, the old capital of Thailand that predates Ayutthaya (the newer old capital that was sacked by the Burmese). Sukhothai’s remains are in much better shape, mostly because it did not have to contend with marauding bands of bloodthirsty armies rampaging through it. Upon checking into the hotel, the bellhop offered us a bright green “welcome drink”. Continuing my habit of consuming whatever’s offered to me, regardless of whether or not I know what it is, I downed the glass. In hindsight, this wasn’t a great idea. No one (Aeng included) was actually able to tell me what was in it, but it was noxiously sweet and tasted very strongly like bubble gum. Mmmm, I’m getting nauseous just thinking about it. Makes me glad that Rob and the Mercury Brewing crew never got it in their heads to make green bubble gum soda, cause I’m pretty sure that’s what it would have wound up like.
After dinner, instead of going back to the hotel, we drove over to a nearby Wat which was build around the remains of a former temple that flourished about 800 years ago. Turns out that it was a major Buddhist holiday (with a long name that I can neither remember nor pronounce) that night, commemorating the Buddha’s first teaching to the first monks. To celebrate, members of the congregation light candles and incense and walk three circles around the temple, one for the Buddha, one for the Dhamma (his teachings), and one for the Sangha (monkhood).
Of the six people in our group, we have two Buddhists, three Christians of varying denominations, and one miscellaneous. Guess which one I am. The Buddhists, along with Aeng, went to go get their candles, while the Christians waited off to the side. I, at first, was unsure where to go, but, in the spirit of striking a blow for cross-cultural understanding, I kicked off my shoes, grabbed a candle and away I went. Interestingly enough, I wasn’t the only white person doing laps. I did see one older guy with a beard, who I’m guessing belonged to the family that was sitting next to my “family” and looked equally embarrassed that their one kooky member had decided to partake in the local tradition.
In the crowd through, no one seemed embarrassed or even surprised to see me. I guess the extremely welcoming and open character of the Thai people strikes again. Although my candle stayed lit for all of the first fifteen feet of our three laps, I did enjoy myself. Speaking of cross-cultural understanding, I noticed a major similarity between this ceremony and all the other candlelight services I’ve been to: give a candle to a little boy, and he immediately turns into the world’s biggest pyromaniac. For them, this event was much more appealing than anything held at First Church in Ipswich, since here we had the added perk of being held outside, where there was an abundance of grass and leaves to set on fire. After relocating my shoes and my group, I headed back to the hotel. I had to retire the shirt I was wearing for the remainder of the trip though, since the incense had totally permeated everything I had on. Combined with the results of sweating in Sukothai’s cooler-though-still-pretty-darn-hot weather, the only thing that can be said is, “Holy stink”.
We left at 7 am last Thursday, bleary-eyed with duffel bags in tow. Once again, I’m glad to have brought an extra bag wadded up in my suitcase. Five days worth of stuff is too much for a backpack, but not enough for a suitcase. Old 1980’s duffel bag, just right. After a few hours of driving (and viewing of the Lord of the Rings Extended Edition, which we killed off over about three days and is way better than the original trilogy), we stopped for lunch at Phitsanulok, a town famous for it’s Buddha images. The grandest of these is the Phrabuddha Chinaraoj, which is a classic giant gold Buddha in the Sukhothai style, similar to its formerly concrete-encrusted cousin now residing in Trimit Temple. Lunch in Phitsanulok was fun, mostly because we ate on a series of wooden docks floating on a small pond. Any table scraps get thrown to the large school of even larger fish that have got the system all figured out. In a somewhat macabre display of cannibalism, they loved the skeletons of the fried fish we ordered.
Once we and the Lecter-fish had eaten our fill, we pressed onward to Sukhothai, the old capital of Thailand that predates Ayutthaya (the newer old capital that was sacked by the Burmese). Sukhothai’s remains are in much better shape, mostly because it did not have to contend with marauding bands of bloodthirsty armies rampaging through it. Upon checking into the hotel, the bellhop offered us a bright green “welcome drink”. Continuing my habit of consuming whatever’s offered to me, regardless of whether or not I know what it is, I downed the glass. In hindsight, this wasn’t a great idea. No one (Aeng included) was actually able to tell me what was in it, but it was noxiously sweet and tasted very strongly like bubble gum. Mmmm, I’m getting nauseous just thinking about it. Makes me glad that Rob and the Mercury Brewing crew never got it in their heads to make green bubble gum soda, cause I’m pretty sure that’s what it would have wound up like.
After dinner, instead of going back to the hotel, we drove over to a nearby Wat which was build around the remains of a former temple that flourished about 800 years ago. Turns out that it was a major Buddhist holiday (with a long name that I can neither remember nor pronounce) that night, commemorating the Buddha’s first teaching to the first monks. To celebrate, members of the congregation light candles and incense and walk three circles around the temple, one for the Buddha, one for the Dhamma (his teachings), and one for the Sangha (monkhood).
Of the six people in our group, we have two Buddhists, three Christians of varying denominations, and one miscellaneous. Guess which one I am. The Buddhists, along with Aeng, went to go get their candles, while the Christians waited off to the side. I, at first, was unsure where to go, but, in the spirit of striking a blow for cross-cultural understanding, I kicked off my shoes, grabbed a candle and away I went. Interestingly enough, I wasn’t the only white person doing laps. I did see one older guy with a beard, who I’m guessing belonged to the family that was sitting next to my “family” and looked equally embarrassed that their one kooky member had decided to partake in the local tradition.
In the crowd through, no one seemed embarrassed or even surprised to see me. I guess the extremely welcoming and open character of the Thai people strikes again. Although my candle stayed lit for all of the first fifteen feet of our three laps, I did enjoy myself. Speaking of cross-cultural understanding, I noticed a major similarity between this ceremony and all the other candlelight services I’ve been to: give a candle to a little boy, and he immediately turns into the world’s biggest pyromaniac. For them, this event was much more appealing than anything held at First Church in Ipswich, since here we had the added perk of being held outside, where there was an abundance of grass and leaves to set on fire. After relocating my shoes and my group, I headed back to the hotel. I had to retire the shirt I was wearing for the remainder of the trip though, since the incense had totally permeated everything I had on. Combined with the results of sweating in Sukothai’s cooler-though-still-pretty-darn-hot weather, the only thing that can be said is, “Holy stink”.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Week in Review: TGI..W? Edition
Once again, I've hit the end of the work week, and it's time to summarize what I've done. What's that you say? It's only wednesday? Don't worry, the time zone isn't that far ahead here. I've actually got tomorrow and friday, as well as the following monday, off from work so we can go on our "Big Vacation" to Chiang Mai. Basically, over the next five days or so, I'll be essentially driving across the entire nation of Thailand to reach its second largest (I think) city, located very close to Myanmar. Should be an interesting trip, I know we're planning to watch the entire Lord of the Rings Extended Edition on the ride, but Aeng says that may not cover the whole weekend. I'm considering an epic retelling the "Tisbottle Story" (haven't heard of it? that's probably ok...).
Anyway, back to this week (and last, since I realized I never said anything about my research of last week). Things have been going quite well. I've wrapped up most of my project, and now I'm in the middle of the manuscript writing/editing phase. I'm planning to submit my paper to an IEEE conference on robotics to be held in Seoul, Korea next November. If I get accepted, my professor says I might be able to score another free trip to Asia. Sweet deal!
I've discovered that putting together an official paper for something like this is way more work than it probably should be. I spent all of yesterday and a good portion of today just formatting the thing. IEEE has extremely stringent paper formatting standards, and if your section subheadings are in 10 point Times New Roman instead of 8 point, the nerd gods of engineering may just smite thee asunder. After two days of working on it, I think I've sacrificed enough of my life to appease their unholy formatting desires.
Beyond that, nothing terribly exciting since the last post. Just returned from dinner at the mall (Japanese pork, sushi, and Ice Monster for dessert). As far as future posts are concerned, I'll probably have to enter radio silence for the next few days. I'm leaving my computer here in Bangkok, though I will have my iPod that is internet ready. However, where we're going, I'm guessing that wireless access may not be terribly easy to come by. Maybe I'll type the entries on my iPod as we travel, and then upload them all when I get back. We'll see how plucky my thumbs are feeling, and how bored I get during the car ride.
Speaking of innovative blogging, I've decided that I really like the concept of "liveblogging", where one types a series of short entries on a rapidly updated blog. I've "watched" the Celtics win the NBA title this way, and today I followed all 15 innings of the AL's 12 (or 13th, I can't remember which) consecutive All-Star game triumph (too bad Francona didn't get a chance to pitch J.D. Drew though...) Anything I type from Chiang Mai won't be especially "live" per se, but I might still have to chronicle any especially exciting events that happen as they happen. Check again on monday or tuesday, same Bat time, same Bat channel.
PS: Sorry, I have to add this right now. Joey is looking up Thai idiom online, and just informed me that, according to the website, the equivalent of the phrase "Keeping up with the Joneses" is "hen chang khee khee dtaan chang", which allegedly literally translates to, "you see an elephant, and you want to shit like an elephant."
Learn something new everyday...
Anyway, back to this week (and last, since I realized I never said anything about my research of last week). Things have been going quite well. I've wrapped up most of my project, and now I'm in the middle of the manuscript writing/editing phase. I'm planning to submit my paper to an IEEE conference on robotics to be held in Seoul, Korea next November. If I get accepted, my professor says I might be able to score another free trip to Asia. Sweet deal!
I've discovered that putting together an official paper for something like this is way more work than it probably should be. I spent all of yesterday and a good portion of today just formatting the thing. IEEE has extremely stringent paper formatting standards, and if your section subheadings are in 10 point Times New Roman instead of 8 point, the nerd gods of engineering may just smite thee asunder. After two days of working on it, I think I've sacrificed enough of my life to appease their unholy formatting desires.
Beyond that, nothing terribly exciting since the last post. Just returned from dinner at the mall (Japanese pork, sushi, and Ice Monster for dessert). As far as future posts are concerned, I'll probably have to enter radio silence for the next few days. I'm leaving my computer here in Bangkok, though I will have my iPod that is internet ready. However, where we're going, I'm guessing that wireless access may not be terribly easy to come by. Maybe I'll type the entries on my iPod as we travel, and then upload them all when I get back. We'll see how plucky my thumbs are feeling, and how bored I get during the car ride.
Speaking of innovative blogging, I've decided that I really like the concept of "liveblogging", where one types a series of short entries on a rapidly updated blog. I've "watched" the Celtics win the NBA title this way, and today I followed all 15 innings of the AL's 12 (or 13th, I can't remember which) consecutive All-Star game triumph (too bad Francona didn't get a chance to pitch J.D. Drew though...) Anything I type from Chiang Mai won't be especially "live" per se, but I might still have to chronicle any especially exciting events that happen as they happen. Check again on monday or tuesday, same Bat time, same Bat channel.
PS: Sorry, I have to add this right now. Joey is looking up Thai idiom online, and just informed me that, according to the website, the equivalent of the phrase "Keeping up with the Joneses" is "hen chang khee khee dtaan chang", which allegedly literally translates to, "you see an elephant, and you want to shit like an elephant."
Learn something new everyday...
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Ol' Man River
Over the past seven weeks or so, we’ve done a lot of standard touristy things that embrace Thai involvement, but still mostly cater towards western visitors. This weekend was not one of those things. Granted, it was part of a “package deal” at a hotel where all activities and meals were included, but we were the only farangs in the bunch. For once, it was nice to be able to vacation without being bombarded by people trying to sell me the tchatchkey of the day. Having absolutely no idea what was going on was a small price to pay.
This whole adventure took place in Kanchanaburi province, in central Thailand. Kanchanaburi is home to the Kwai River (pronounced “kwaeh” in Thai, “kwai” means “buffalo”) and the (in)famous Bridge Over it, part of the Siam-Burma railroad built during WWII by thousands of POWs and Thai civilians. The construction of the bridge was described, albeit with a certain amount of poetic license, in the 1957 (I think? I don’t remember exactly from Wikipedia) film starring Sir Alec Guinness (aka: Master Obi-Wan. You know, the good Obi-Wan). As a result, the whistled “River Kwai March” was ubiquitous around here, leading to a serious case of “It’s a Small World” syndrome. My brain needs a “shuffle playlist” button. Badly.
Before the program began, we stopped at museum, war memorial/cemetery and finally the bridge itself. The bridge was the only part of this weekend where western tourism still ran wild. I have to say that it was a little depressing to think that a landmark constructed with so much human suffering was now serving as the backdrop to vast numbers of western Christmas card photos, but I suppose it’s unavoidable. Plus, it does bring a certain amount of income to a relatively poor area.
Ok, enough downers for this entry. Walking across the bridge, the first thing I notice is the apparent replacement of any sort of guard rails with a sign that says, “Walk at your own risk.” Let us recall that this is a bridge over a river, and a rather high one at that. Pack enough tourists on there, and moving around can get a little dicey. We didn’t see any disastrous falls, though I’m sure someone must have gone for an unintentional dip at some point. Otherwise, why would they need a sign?
Plummeting into fast moving water aside, about 15 minutes later we discovered a far more pressing reason for the sign in question. We knew that trains still run on the railroad. What we did not know, however, is that they still run across the bridge with minimal warning that they’re coming. Furthermore, the bridge is pretty long, so running to the opposite bank isn’t really an option on the table. Fortunately for us, the train wasn’t moving too fast, and we were able to take refuge on one of the lookout points along the bridge which, also fortunately for us, were equipped with guard rails. This was pretty cool, watching the train drive within three feet of us while we were waiting over the water, until the train stopped on the bridge, preventing us from…well, from doing anything. Without anything else to do, we stood there for about 20 minutes until they pulled the German backpackers out from under the cowcatcher (I assume that must be why they stopped) and the train chugged its way across.
After the bridge, we made our way to the hotel to check in, eat, and go “rafting”. Details on this part of the day were sketchy at best, and all manner of theories had been discussed among us as to what “rafting” actually meant. None of us were actually right. We put on life jackets and hopped aboard a platform of bamboo poles tied to rusty metal pontoons. This vehicle was one of many in a floatilla carrying similarly attired (though much more intoxicated) passengers, all tied to the back of a boat. The plan: get towed about a kilometer up the river, abandon ship, and float back to the docks. Knowing this, we were a little surprised when the boat pulled us about 100 yards past the dock and stopped.
To this point, all the other people on the raft had been great fun, and we found ourselves retaliating for numerous series unprovoked splashing attacks (I later discovered that the guide had been using his megaphone to tell them to “splash the farangs”, which I still think is pretty funny). So, when we stopped and the guys sitting around me said “jump”, I was the first to throw myself off the raft. The rest of the group, including Aeng, followed suit. However, as we floated away we noticed that no one else had entered the water. Turns out that they were just having problems with the boat, but the Americans were dumb enough to think that this was as far as we were going, and jumped in the river. I didn’t figure out that I’d been pranked until aways downstream. After drifting away, climbing out, and running back along the bank, we all managed to get back on the raft before it drove away. I do have to hand it to our new friends, they did know how to act.
After floating home and drying out, we went to dinner and the accompanying festivities. I wish I could explain what these festivities were, but I have no idea what any of it was. If I had to guess, it reminded me a little bit of Bar Mitzvah entertainment, as similarly dressed guys in their mid twenties karaoked and danced their way through the night. Once the show was over, we watched the “Light and Sound Presentation”, which (I’m told) described the history of the railroad as lights were shone strategically on the section of track that ran nearby. The one piece of this show I did understand was the use of pyrotechnics to mimic artillery. I also understood the reaction of the guy next to me, who after the charge went off reminded me a little of the sea captain in that “Bring me my brown pants” joke.
The following morning (this one, I’m blogging on time!) we got up again at some ungodly hour (I think it may have started with a 6), headed across the river by boat, and hiked off into the jungle. After a nice uphill climb (the pace of which seemed to imply that I’m gaining back some of the muscle mass I lost during my gastric defeat of weeks past), we arrived at what can best be described as “a really sweet cave”. This cave (again, so I’m told by Aeng) was used as a hiding place for escaped POWs who had managed to elude their Japanese captors. They handed out candles (both for light, and to appease the spirits of the prisoners, who had all been executed when they were finally discovered) and we headed off into the darkness. This place was really cool, and I don’t know that I can adequately describe it without pictures (you may address all angry letters to the Blogger division of Google Co. which is still failing to allow me to post any). I will say though, at one point, we did have to slip through a crawlspace that probably would not have accommodated many western frames. Fear not, dear reader; I, with my elegant yet compact physique, managed to slip through unencumbered and return to write this gripping narrative.*
*This statement currently under investigation by representatives of the International Hyperbole Regulatory Commission (IHRC), who purport that Mr. Hamlin’s narrative is far from gripping. We, however, can attest to the high quality of his entirely unexaggerated and rippling musculature.
This whole adventure took place in Kanchanaburi province, in central Thailand. Kanchanaburi is home to the Kwai River (pronounced “kwaeh” in Thai, “kwai” means “buffalo”) and the (in)famous Bridge Over it, part of the Siam-Burma railroad built during WWII by thousands of POWs and Thai civilians. The construction of the bridge was described, albeit with a certain amount of poetic license, in the 1957 (I think? I don’t remember exactly from Wikipedia) film starring Sir Alec Guinness (aka: Master Obi-Wan. You know, the good Obi-Wan). As a result, the whistled “River Kwai March” was ubiquitous around here, leading to a serious case of “It’s a Small World” syndrome. My brain needs a “shuffle playlist” button. Badly.
Before the program began, we stopped at museum, war memorial/cemetery and finally the bridge itself. The bridge was the only part of this weekend where western tourism still ran wild. I have to say that it was a little depressing to think that a landmark constructed with so much human suffering was now serving as the backdrop to vast numbers of western Christmas card photos, but I suppose it’s unavoidable. Plus, it does bring a certain amount of income to a relatively poor area.
Ok, enough downers for this entry. Walking across the bridge, the first thing I notice is the apparent replacement of any sort of guard rails with a sign that says, “Walk at your own risk.” Let us recall that this is a bridge over a river, and a rather high one at that. Pack enough tourists on there, and moving around can get a little dicey. We didn’t see any disastrous falls, though I’m sure someone must have gone for an unintentional dip at some point. Otherwise, why would they need a sign?
Plummeting into fast moving water aside, about 15 minutes later we discovered a far more pressing reason for the sign in question. We knew that trains still run on the railroad. What we did not know, however, is that they still run across the bridge with minimal warning that they’re coming. Furthermore, the bridge is pretty long, so running to the opposite bank isn’t really an option on the table. Fortunately for us, the train wasn’t moving too fast, and we were able to take refuge on one of the lookout points along the bridge which, also fortunately for us, were equipped with guard rails. This was pretty cool, watching the train drive within three feet of us while we were waiting over the water, until the train stopped on the bridge, preventing us from…well, from doing anything. Without anything else to do, we stood there for about 20 minutes until they pulled the German backpackers out from under the cowcatcher (I assume that must be why they stopped) and the train chugged its way across.
After the bridge, we made our way to the hotel to check in, eat, and go “rafting”. Details on this part of the day were sketchy at best, and all manner of theories had been discussed among us as to what “rafting” actually meant. None of us were actually right. We put on life jackets and hopped aboard a platform of bamboo poles tied to rusty metal pontoons. This vehicle was one of many in a floatilla carrying similarly attired (though much more intoxicated) passengers, all tied to the back of a boat. The plan: get towed about a kilometer up the river, abandon ship, and float back to the docks. Knowing this, we were a little surprised when the boat pulled us about 100 yards past the dock and stopped.
To this point, all the other people on the raft had been great fun, and we found ourselves retaliating for numerous series unprovoked splashing attacks (I later discovered that the guide had been using his megaphone to tell them to “splash the farangs”, which I still think is pretty funny). So, when we stopped and the guys sitting around me said “jump”, I was the first to throw myself off the raft. The rest of the group, including Aeng, followed suit. However, as we floated away we noticed that no one else had entered the water. Turns out that they were just having problems with the boat, but the Americans were dumb enough to think that this was as far as we were going, and jumped in the river. I didn’t figure out that I’d been pranked until aways downstream. After drifting away, climbing out, and running back along the bank, we all managed to get back on the raft before it drove away. I do have to hand it to our new friends, they did know how to act.
After floating home and drying out, we went to dinner and the accompanying festivities. I wish I could explain what these festivities were, but I have no idea what any of it was. If I had to guess, it reminded me a little bit of Bar Mitzvah entertainment, as similarly dressed guys in their mid twenties karaoked and danced their way through the night. Once the show was over, we watched the “Light and Sound Presentation”, which (I’m told) described the history of the railroad as lights were shone strategically on the section of track that ran nearby. The one piece of this show I did understand was the use of pyrotechnics to mimic artillery. I also understood the reaction of the guy next to me, who after the charge went off reminded me a little of the sea captain in that “Bring me my brown pants” joke.
The following morning (this one, I’m blogging on time!) we got up again at some ungodly hour (I think it may have started with a 6), headed across the river by boat, and hiked off into the jungle. After a nice uphill climb (the pace of which seemed to imply that I’m gaining back some of the muscle mass I lost during my gastric defeat of weeks past), we arrived at what can best be described as “a really sweet cave”. This cave (again, so I’m told by Aeng) was used as a hiding place for escaped POWs who had managed to elude their Japanese captors. They handed out candles (both for light, and to appease the spirits of the prisoners, who had all been executed when they were finally discovered) and we headed off into the darkness. This place was really cool, and I don’t know that I can adequately describe it without pictures (you may address all angry letters to the Blogger division of Google Co. which is still failing to allow me to post any). I will say though, at one point, we did have to slip through a crawlspace that probably would not have accommodated many western frames. Fear not, dear reader; I, with my elegant yet compact physique, managed to slip through unencumbered and return to write this gripping narrative.*
*This statement currently under investigation by representatives of the International Hyperbole Regulatory Commission (IHRC), who purport that Mr. Hamlin’s narrative is far from gripping. We, however, can attest to the high quality of his entirely unexaggerated and rippling musculature.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Vomit Vomit Yum Yum Yum
Chinatown can be an interesting place no matter what city you’re in. But, when you take a Chinatown and drop in the dead center of a city that’s already as frenetic as Bangkok, you know you’re in for a good time. I didn’t realize exactly how interesting this time would be until I arrived there and got swept away in a sea of keychain merchants, noodle stands, and various fish entrails. Bangkok’s Chinatown is a big awesome steaming cup o’ crazy, and I liked it.
We started of the day a little slower, at the nearby Trimit Temple. This temple is very similar to the many other Wats we’ve stopped at in the last few weeks, so by now I had the drill figured out: remove shoes, don’t point your feet at the Buddha, take pictures only wear they tell you to, don’t lose your shoes once you take them off, and so forth. The aspect of Trimit Temple that makes it unique is the massive Buddha image that dominates the small bot. More impressive than the size though, is the fact that it dates from the Sukhothai period, about 1000 years ago. Oh yeah, it’s also made of solid gold.
This Buddha wound up in Bangkok purely by accident. When it was excavated in Sukothai (I’ll be heading there in a few weeks, should be interesting), it looked just like every other concrete Buddha image, which, in Medieval Thailand, were a baht a dozen. However, the less than competent riggers in charge of moving this thing managed to crack the concrete when the were pulling it around by a rope tied to its neck, only to reveal the solid gold, though slightly smaller, statue inside. I think the clearest way to picture this is to imagine cracking the candy shell on an enormous ancient Thai-style Buddha shaped M+M.
Following the religious candy metaphors, we moved on to Chinatown proper: Yaowarat Road. This road is allegedly the oldest in the city, or so the tour guide legends say. According to Aeng, it looks exactly like downtown Hong Kong, and I totally believe her. Wandering down the street, almost all the storefronts sell food, specifically shark-fin soup. This Chinese delicacy has decreased in availability in recent years due to overfishing, though it looked like the fisherman here hadn’t been having any problems. The fins were large and plentiful and intimidating, mostly because seeing them all led me to visualize the animals they came off of, which, I assume, were proportionally humongous.
We didn’t purchase any shark fin soup, mostly because of the sizeable financial investment involved. Plus, there’s always the ethical question of how the fins were obtained. Instead, we tried the other Chinese liquid delicacy: Bird’s Nest Soup. This stuff is still very pricy, but it comes in different grades, so you can get a bowl for as little as 100 baht, which is exactly what we did. Bird’s nest soup is, in fact, made of real nests, constructed and formerly occupied by small cave dwelling birds. These caves are hard to access, which is what causes the astronomical price (a box of 12-15 quality nests can be over $1000). These nests are not made of sticks or anything link that. No, they’re made up of layer upon layer of regurgitated stomach contents: that’s right, bird puke. When boiled, they fall apart and assume a cheap jell-o like consistency.
I have to say that a bowl of bird vomit did not taste bad. Actually, a lot like really runny scrambled eggs. Match it with a glass of cheap green tea, and you’ve got yourself a decent snack. Plus, it’s a great way to make the more uptight obnoxious “ugly Americans” among your group really grossed out.
We started of the day a little slower, at the nearby Trimit Temple. This temple is very similar to the many other Wats we’ve stopped at in the last few weeks, so by now I had the drill figured out: remove shoes, don’t point your feet at the Buddha, take pictures only wear they tell you to, don’t lose your shoes once you take them off, and so forth. The aspect of Trimit Temple that makes it unique is the massive Buddha image that dominates the small bot. More impressive than the size though, is the fact that it dates from the Sukhothai period, about 1000 years ago. Oh yeah, it’s also made of solid gold.
This Buddha wound up in Bangkok purely by accident. When it was excavated in Sukothai (I’ll be heading there in a few weeks, should be interesting), it looked just like every other concrete Buddha image, which, in Medieval Thailand, were a baht a dozen. However, the less than competent riggers in charge of moving this thing managed to crack the concrete when the were pulling it around by a rope tied to its neck, only to reveal the solid gold, though slightly smaller, statue inside. I think the clearest way to picture this is to imagine cracking the candy shell on an enormous ancient Thai-style Buddha shaped M+M.
Following the religious candy metaphors, we moved on to Chinatown proper: Yaowarat Road. This road is allegedly the oldest in the city, or so the tour guide legends say. According to Aeng, it looks exactly like downtown Hong Kong, and I totally believe her. Wandering down the street, almost all the storefronts sell food, specifically shark-fin soup. This Chinese delicacy has decreased in availability in recent years due to overfishing, though it looked like the fisherman here hadn’t been having any problems. The fins were large and plentiful and intimidating, mostly because seeing them all led me to visualize the animals they came off of, which, I assume, were proportionally humongous.
We didn’t purchase any shark fin soup, mostly because of the sizeable financial investment involved. Plus, there’s always the ethical question of how the fins were obtained. Instead, we tried the other Chinese liquid delicacy: Bird’s Nest Soup. This stuff is still very pricy, but it comes in different grades, so you can get a bowl for as little as 100 baht, which is exactly what we did. Bird’s nest soup is, in fact, made of real nests, constructed and formerly occupied by small cave dwelling birds. These caves are hard to access, which is what causes the astronomical price (a box of 12-15 quality nests can be over $1000). These nests are not made of sticks or anything link that. No, they’re made up of layer upon layer of regurgitated stomach contents: that’s right, bird puke. When boiled, they fall apart and assume a cheap jell-o like consistency.
I have to say that a bowl of bird vomit did not taste bad. Actually, a lot like really runny scrambled eggs. Match it with a glass of cheap green tea, and you’ve got yourself a decent snack. Plus, it’s a great way to make the more uptight obnoxious “ugly Americans” among your group really grossed out.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
The Week in Review: Victory Edition
Attention: all hands on deck. My professor now has the link to this blog; Quick! Everyone look busy!
Now with that out of the way, we can get down to business. It’s been a pretty great week, starting with our adventures of Tuesday night. I’ve been trading emails for a while with one Julawat “Bub” Suppipat, Midnight Ramblers Class of 2002, who grew up in downtown Bangkok and now runs an awesome Thai/Italian restaurant in the same area. Finally, our schedules coincided at a time when I was capable of eating food again, so we got a chance to get together at last.
Bub swung by KMUTT and picked Joey and I up after work on Tuesday, and we drove over to Sukuhmvit, one of the main streets that runs through the heart of the city. Shopping and dining options abound, many aimed squarely at the large farang population staying in the numerous high end hotels. Bub’s restaurant is known for its outdoor dining, which probably wasn’t the best choice that day, since as we were driving over we found ourselves in one of the heaviest downpours I’ve ever seen. Instead, Bub suggested we get a true taste of nitty-gritty Thai culture, so we went…to “The Londoner” British Pub.
I really do like Thai food. I do. But, after five weeks of rice and noodles, my steak and cheese (cheese!) sandwich was the most delicious food on the planet. To compound the awesome greatness of this sumptuous feast, we arrived right in the middle of happy hour. They say you learn something new everyday. That day, I learned that happy hour is named that way for a reason. Buy one get one is a good enough deal, but with the availability of British style bitter ale happy hour went from happy to ecstatic. While I do like Thai food, I cannont honestly say the same about Thai beer. They have sweet logos, but they taste suspiciously similar to Genny Light (except for Beer Chang, which tastes like Rolling Rock, which tastes like pennies)
After a great night out with Bub, it was back to work. In terms of my research, this week was extremely productive. Pull out your flight suits and unroll the aircraft carrier sized banners; it’s time to declare (likely prematurely) Mission Accomplished! That’s right, I built something that actually works, and does what it was intended to. I’m sure statements like that will make some suspect that the real Nick has been kidnapped and replaced with some sort of strange ghostwriter, but it is actually true. Now the world has a way to repurpose an old printer to serve as a single degree of freedom haptic device. Way cool.
With this done, I can start writing up my report, and also expanding the range of virtual objects that this thing can mimic. Next on the to do list is to imitate a wall made of rubber. I’m sure this is useful…somehow. Anyway, now it’s back to laundry. Following our trip to Chinatown earlier this morning (gripping blog account coming soon), my clothes smell a little interesting.
Now with that out of the way, we can get down to business. It’s been a pretty great week, starting with our adventures of Tuesday night. I’ve been trading emails for a while with one Julawat “Bub” Suppipat, Midnight Ramblers Class of 2002, who grew up in downtown Bangkok and now runs an awesome Thai/Italian restaurant in the same area. Finally, our schedules coincided at a time when I was capable of eating food again, so we got a chance to get together at last.
Bub swung by KMUTT and picked Joey and I up after work on Tuesday, and we drove over to Sukuhmvit, one of the main streets that runs through the heart of the city. Shopping and dining options abound, many aimed squarely at the large farang population staying in the numerous high end hotels. Bub’s restaurant is known for its outdoor dining, which probably wasn’t the best choice that day, since as we were driving over we found ourselves in one of the heaviest downpours I’ve ever seen. Instead, Bub suggested we get a true taste of nitty-gritty Thai culture, so we went…to “The Londoner” British Pub.
I really do like Thai food. I do. But, after five weeks of rice and noodles, my steak and cheese (cheese!) sandwich was the most delicious food on the planet. To compound the awesome greatness of this sumptuous feast, we arrived right in the middle of happy hour. They say you learn something new everyday. That day, I learned that happy hour is named that way for a reason. Buy one get one is a good enough deal, but with the availability of British style bitter ale happy hour went from happy to ecstatic. While I do like Thai food, I cannont honestly say the same about Thai beer. They have sweet logos, but they taste suspiciously similar to Genny Light (except for Beer Chang, which tastes like Rolling Rock, which tastes like pennies)
After a great night out with Bub, it was back to work. In terms of my research, this week was extremely productive. Pull out your flight suits and unroll the aircraft carrier sized banners; it’s time to declare (likely prematurely) Mission Accomplished! That’s right, I built something that actually works, and does what it was intended to. I’m sure statements like that will make some suspect that the real Nick has been kidnapped and replaced with some sort of strange ghostwriter, but it is actually true. Now the world has a way to repurpose an old printer to serve as a single degree of freedom haptic device. Way cool.
With this done, I can start writing up my report, and also expanding the range of virtual objects that this thing can mimic. Next on the to do list is to imitate a wall made of rubber. I’m sure this is useful…somehow. Anyway, now it’s back to laundry. Following our trip to Chinatown earlier this morning (gripping blog account coming soon), my clothes smell a little interesting.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Ruined
Ok, let’s continue on my quest to catch up and actually blog about something that happened within the last week. Last Friday was the official halfway point to our program, and as a result we all gave our oral progress reports. This was strangely satisfying, since it was finally an opportunity to turn the tables on the grad students and watch them glaze over while we got to speak rapidly. As a reward, or possibly since the organizers of the program couldn’t come up with anything for us to do, we had the following Saturday off. Finally, my first chance to sleep in in over a month. As much as I’ve enjoyed running around to the exotic corners of Asia, I remembered, if only for one day, that I also really enjoy doing nothing.
With our nothing completed, we went back to the standard 7am weekend wakeup time for our Sunday trip to Ayuthaya, the old capital of Thailand about an hour north of Bangkok. The city is known for its vast stretches of ruins, mostly of religious sites, which were destroyed by Burmese plunderers in search of Thai gold in the 18th (I think) century. Before the ruins though, we stopped at the King’s summer palace. Between this place, and the winter palace at Phu Ping (look! that’s still funny!), it almost seems like they don’t really even need a regular palace. The summer palace is cool, mostly because it’s based on European and Chinese architectural styles since the original king who built it really liked to travel. As such, it’s also home to the only Gothic style Buddhist temple, which goes to prove that globalization has been around forever; a precursor to the Cheers restaurant in the Malaysian airport. Still my favorite example of “Thai-ized” western symbols has got to be “Sawadee Ronald McDonald”. Let’s just say I wish that I could still post pictures, because there’s no other way to describe him.
Speaking of pictures, I feel I should offer a handy travel tip: if you’re gonna take pictures of cool Thai flowers that look like they’re about to say, “Feed me, Seymour!”, watch where you stand. For example, it’s probably not a good idea to stand on a nest of fire ants. Based on personal experience, I can attest that this activity is just as fun as it sounds. ‘Nuff said.
After the palace, we stopped for lunch. Nothing special, but I bring it up solely because, at one point during the meal, Aeng, our tour guide, complimented my Thai. Me? The guy wearing a shirt advertising, “The Original American Ale”? Even though I was proud of myself, this clearly had to be a fluke. Turns out it was, since yesterday I think I managed to inadvertently swear at my boss. Apparently, my phrase book’s comment that most western speakers can make themselves understood without worrying about the complex tonality of the Thai language is a blatant lie. I didn’t cause an international incident (this time…), and instead I just apologize profusely. I still don’t know what I said, since none of them would tell me.
Anyway, back to Sunday. After lunch we stopped at a series of ruined temples, many of which are still venerated by modern monks. I won’t outline all the details of me running around these places, but I will say that on a few occasions I found myself in a similar situation as Dad did in Pompeii, when he took off to explore and lost the rest of our family. At one point, Joey and I ran into some Japanese tourists (surprise, surprise), who asked me to take their picture. Apparently, I’m very non-threatening and don’t look like I could outrun most tourist types, since I always get asked to take pictures. Once I’d taken the photo, they offered to take our photo, so Joey and I obligingly lined up in front of the temple. Right as the girl was getting ready to snap the shot, an enormous and unending procession of people filed right between us and the camera. It was certainly one of those, “well, this is interesting” moments. I wasn’t waiting around for them to pass, since I couldn’t see the end of the line, so I did what any self respecting culture nerd would do. I grabbed my camera, grabbed Joey, and hopped in the parade too. If they were going to ruin our photo op, we were at least determined to figure out where they were headed. As we followed the procession around, we passed by the rest of our group who were waiting in the shade. Needless to say, they looked at us a little funny.
Turns out that a new monk had just been ordained about 10 minutes earlier, and that the procession was in his honor. This whole spectacle was really cool, and I wanted to stay and watch, but we had to depart for our next set of ruins. My solution? Fake a bathroom stop once we got out to the parking lot. This plan did require an investment of 3 baht to use the bathroom, but I got to see more of the ceremony. I also got a chance to pee. If Aeng hadn’t followed me back in to make sure I found the bathroom, I probably could have stayed to catch some of the candy and money that the new monk was tossing to the crowd. I’ll remember this for the next time I crash a Buddhist ordination.
With our nothing completed, we went back to the standard 7am weekend wakeup time for our Sunday trip to Ayuthaya, the old capital of Thailand about an hour north of Bangkok. The city is known for its vast stretches of ruins, mostly of religious sites, which were destroyed by Burmese plunderers in search of Thai gold in the 18th (I think) century. Before the ruins though, we stopped at the King’s summer palace. Between this place, and the winter palace at Phu Ping (look! that’s still funny!), it almost seems like they don’t really even need a regular palace. The summer palace is cool, mostly because it’s based on European and Chinese architectural styles since the original king who built it really liked to travel. As such, it’s also home to the only Gothic style Buddhist temple, which goes to prove that globalization has been around forever; a precursor to the Cheers restaurant in the Malaysian airport. Still my favorite example of “Thai-ized” western symbols has got to be “Sawadee Ronald McDonald”. Let’s just say I wish that I could still post pictures, because there’s no other way to describe him.
Speaking of pictures, I feel I should offer a handy travel tip: if you’re gonna take pictures of cool Thai flowers that look like they’re about to say, “Feed me, Seymour!”, watch where you stand. For example, it’s probably not a good idea to stand on a nest of fire ants. Based on personal experience, I can attest that this activity is just as fun as it sounds. ‘Nuff said.
After the palace, we stopped for lunch. Nothing special, but I bring it up solely because, at one point during the meal, Aeng, our tour guide, complimented my Thai. Me? The guy wearing a shirt advertising, “The Original American Ale”? Even though I was proud of myself, this clearly had to be a fluke. Turns out it was, since yesterday I think I managed to inadvertently swear at my boss. Apparently, my phrase book’s comment that most western speakers can make themselves understood without worrying about the complex tonality of the Thai language is a blatant lie. I didn’t cause an international incident (this time…), and instead I just apologize profusely. I still don’t know what I said, since none of them would tell me.
Anyway, back to Sunday. After lunch we stopped at a series of ruined temples, many of which are still venerated by modern monks. I won’t outline all the details of me running around these places, but I will say that on a few occasions I found myself in a similar situation as Dad did in Pompeii, when he took off to explore and lost the rest of our family. At one point, Joey and I ran into some Japanese tourists (surprise, surprise), who asked me to take their picture. Apparently, I’m very non-threatening and don’t look like I could outrun most tourist types, since I always get asked to take pictures. Once I’d taken the photo, they offered to take our photo, so Joey and I obligingly lined up in front of the temple. Right as the girl was getting ready to snap the shot, an enormous and unending procession of people filed right between us and the camera. It was certainly one of those, “well, this is interesting” moments. I wasn’t waiting around for them to pass, since I couldn’t see the end of the line, so I did what any self respecting culture nerd would do. I grabbed my camera, grabbed Joey, and hopped in the parade too. If they were going to ruin our photo op, we were at least determined to figure out where they were headed. As we followed the procession around, we passed by the rest of our group who were waiting in the shade. Needless to say, they looked at us a little funny.
Turns out that a new monk had just been ordained about 10 minutes earlier, and that the procession was in his honor. This whole spectacle was really cool, and I wanted to stay and watch, but we had to depart for our next set of ruins. My solution? Fake a bathroom stop once we got out to the parking lot. This plan did require an investment of 3 baht to use the bathroom, but I got to see more of the ceremony. I also got a chance to pee. If Aeng hadn’t followed me back in to make sure I found the bathroom, I probably could have stayed to catch some of the candy and money that the new monk was tossing to the crowd. I’ll remember this for the next time I crash a Buddhist ordination.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Off topic alert
This has nothing to do with Thailand, but it's really really cool:
http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/science/06/30/pre-columbiansounds.ap/index.html#cnnSTCText
More substantive posts to follow in the near future.
http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/science/06/30/pre-columbiansounds.ap/index.html#cnnSTCText
More substantive posts to follow in the near future.
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