Christmas Party at ThaiThai Coffee

Today I went to a fun Christmas/New Year's get-together at House of Thai Thai Coffee which serves the best cappucino I've ever tasted. The gathering consisted of some of the staff and family, a few Thai instructors, some of their students and a few loyal customers - I think around 22 people. We had delicious Gaaeng Kiiao Waan Gai
(green chicken curry) with rice noodles, fresh raw basil and bean sprouts, a tasty spicy veggie ravioli, carrot cake, oranges and, of course, Thai coffee. [This is Ann, one of the instructors who has helped me a lot with my Thai.]

We brought small gifts (100 Baht or about $3) and drew numbers, presenting the gift to the person who drew our number with sà-wát-dii bpii mài (Happy New Year). We each introduced ourselves to the group - in paasaa thai (Thai Language), sharing name, where we were from, how long in Chiang Mai and what we were doing there. chăn chêuu Gail, chăn bpen kon American, phák yuu thîi nîi nai Chiang Mai sii deuuan, bpen aa-jaan gày-sĕe-yon láao, phák róorn bpai tîao láe gamlang khìían nãng-sèúua. I have no idea how many people understood me - but I knew what I was saying.

Thai Thai Coffee is a combination of three excellent litle businesses - coffee bar, language center and Thai Culture/Adventure touring.

Why do people travel? To escape their creditors. To find a warmer or cooler clime. To sell Coca-Cola to the Chinese. To find out what is over the seas, over the hills and far away, round the corner, over the garden wall. -- Eric Newby, A Traveller’s Life

Christmas in Maine and in Chiang Mai

Here's a photo of my family at Christmas in Whiting, Maine. My niece, Corina, Judy's husband Vern, brother Dave, Mom, Dave's wife Rob, Dad, Paul's wife Joyce, sister Judy, and nephew Paul. (More photos of snow in Whiting an end of this post.) Even though I am many miles away, I feel very connected to my family at Christmas when I see their photo each year. Part of me is still there with them (including sharing Christmas gin - see below). I don't know how to explain it, but I know if they were not all getting together, Christmas over here would not be the same for me.

Christmas is very low-key in Thailand although the Thai people do make an extra effort on Christmas Eve - they love to party. Many of the small, local bars put out buffet food for their customers to enjoy - items include roast potato (a big hit!), barbeque chicken, sweet and sour soup, sticky rice, spicy papaya salad, white wonder bread and vienna sausages. Still can't figure out why these are such a hit here but they are often served with breakfast. (yuk)

Jim wrote: I spent Christmas in Vientiane, the sleepy capitol of Laos. In the evening, drank some Beer Lao with a Kiwi couple and an Australian guy; then sat down with local high school students who were having a party. [Found out the legal drinking age for beer is 14!] Pretty quiet here. Am staying in a guest house not far from the Mae (River) Khong. Many backpackers roaming the streets. Met an American who moved here from San Diego 14 years ago. Said he was 50 at the time and could not find work, so headed to Vietnam. He was there during the Viet. War. and wanted to teach English, but could not get government approval. So, he ended up in Laos. There are many ex-pats here.

Laos produces one beer, and only one and it is delicious. The Lao brewery was set up years ago by Germans. It's one of the best beers in the world and extremely cheap. There's a variety of good food in Vientiane: French, Thai, Lao, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Lebanese, Indian, etc. Great bread and wine.


Earlier, I had Tina and Don over for a special Christmas Gin & Tonic session. [I met Oregonian Tina here a few years ago. We traveled to Laos together the following year.]




These photos were taken by Judy in Whiting after the first snowfall.

"Your travel life has the essence of a dream. It is something outside the normal, yet you are in it. It is peopled with characters you have never seen before and in all probability may never see again. It brings occasional homesickness, and loneliness, and pangs of longing . . . But you are like the Vikings or the master mariners of the Elizabethan age, who have gone into a world of adventure, and home is not home until you return." Agatha Christie

Thai Lunch with Khun Dtuum

My friend, Dtuum, with whom I meet twice a week to practice Thai and English had her 67th birthday on November 28th. She invited me out to lunch, along with her husband and a friend of hers. The food at the Thai restaurant was delicious - sai ua (spicy Chiang Mai-style sausage, 1), fried pork rinds (took a pass on that), sticky rice, phak bung fai daeng (morning glory stir-fried in garlic and chili), a whole baked fish with tiny chopped up veggies called fish-in-the-garden (bplaa nai suan, it must be), spicy Dtom Yum Goong soup,(2), laap (spicy meat sald with mint leaves, 3), roast pork, raw string beans and basil for munching and a few hot chili sauces. Oh, and Heineken.

Kun Dtuum, สุ ข สั น ต์ วั น เ กิ ด or sùkh-sãn wan kùurt!

"The treachery of the phrase book. . . is that you cannot begin to follow the answer to the question you've pronounced so beautifully -- and worse still, your listener now assumes you're fluent in Swahili." Pico Iver

Nuclear Energy

I just finished reading a review of Power to Save the World: The Truth About Nuclear Energy which really gives one something to think about re nuclear power and the health of our world. The review was printed in Wired Magazine with the link to the article at the end of this note.

Startling fact: A family of four in France, where nuclear fuel is used, will produce only enough waste to fit in a coffee cup over a whole lifetime. A lifetime of getting all your electricity from coal-fired plants as used in the U.S. will make a single person's share of solid waste (in the United States) 68 tons, which would require six 12-ton railroad cars to haul away. Your individual share of CO2 would be 77 tons.

The only way to rescue our plug-hungry planet from catastrophic global warming is to embrace nuclear power, and fast. That's the argument of Gwyneth Cravens, journalist and former nuke protester.
Her new book, Power to Save the World: The Truth About Nuclear Energy, is a passionate plea to understand, instead of fear, atomic power. In her book, Cravens is guided Dante-like through the entire life cycle of nuclear power -- from mining to production to waste disposal -- by one of the world's foremost experts on risk assessment and nuclear waste. Her conclusion? Every day spent burning coal for power translates into damaged lungs and ecosystem destruction. If the world wants to keep plugging in big-screen TVs and iPods, it needs a steady source of power. Wind and solar can't produce the "base-load" (or everyday) steady supply needed, and the only realistic -- and safe -- alternative is nuclear.

To find out more.

Dance & Burmese Padaung Karen Tribe

When Jim and I were in Bali a few years ago, we watched young girls practicing traditional dances and were amazed at how graceful their hand motions were. I've seen this kind of dance often in Thailand at special events, and I've just learned that in order to achieve this graceful look, the girls' fingers are wrapped with elephant grass at a young age. Their hands are forced to bend backward which creates the unusual and beautiful curve when the hand is unwrapped. The process is incredibly painful and takes many years to achieve a permanent curve.

This is a simlar to what many young women endure in the Burmese Padaung Karen tribe, or Long-Neck Karen. This effect is created by adding multiple rings periodically that elongate their necks by deforming their collarbones and pushing their shoulders down. They have become an object of curiosity for both Asian and Western tourists.

There are a couple of reasons why Karen women originally wore the heavy solid copper rings around their necks. They believe in spirits and believe that the tiger spirit may come in the night and bite their neck without this shield, just as snake spirits will bite their legs without the leg wraps. [See photo of Akha woman.] They also submitted to this "decoration" as it was felt that the longer their necks were, the more beautiful they are considered...Often these young women now are used to bring tourist dollars into the villages. There are some Long-Neck Karen villages along the Thailand border and have been described by many as one of the closest things in Asia to a human zoo.

Disclaimer: I did not take these photos.

Hitchhiking to Khon Kaen

Jim recently hitched from Chiang Mai in northern Thailand to Khon Kaen in Northeastern Thailand to visit friends Narong, who manages a dairy plant, and Noi, who teaches physics. One reason Jim went there was to attend the graduation of their daugher, Aom, from KK University. Here he is with Aom and her cousin, Eeya, who recently visited us in Chiang Mai.


Narong wrote to me, soon after Jim's arrival: Hi Gail, Jim arrived KK Dec 15 safety. Now he have had well care from me. We have cheer with him with 2-3 Changs a day. I and Jim will cheer for you too. Narong [So I guess we know what they were up to.]


The photo above was taken last year when we visited them in their country home. Here's another photo from last year that Jim took of me and Aom and Eeya at their city home.


Jim's two-day trip was filled with "a slew of mini-adventures." Here's a few of them:

"I am not a role model." An off-duty police officer gave me a NASCAR qualifying trip to Phitsanoluk. He told me to fasten my seat belt as soon as I got in the car, but safety was the last thing on his mind. His car was designed and equipped for speed. We weaved through all traffic ahead of us like in a video game. He delighted in tailgating, then passing with just inches to spare. He wore racing gloves. Ironically, this "officer" had two full cans of Leo beer sitting next to him in plain sight. Even when we stopped at a police checkpoint, he did not hide the beer. While off-duty in his police sruiser, this guy felt no obligation to be a role model.

"Hitching Thai-style: The more, the merrier." The next day I was on the highway hitching when six college-age students filed by me with backpacks and camping gear. They stopped up ahead of me. Someone joined them on a motorcycle. After a few minutes, I realized they were trying to hitch a ride. Never in my travels have I seen 6 people trying to hitch together! They were defying all logic. I was curious, so walked up to them. Older guy with the motor bike greeted me, drunk as a skunk. Ignored him and asked the students about taking their picture. They were real cute doing a group wave to attract a ride. It was like being at a ballpark. There we were, three young guys, three young gals, one old drunk, and me trying to wave down a ride.

Within minutes a truck stopped. The students squeezed into the back with their gear. There were several trays of eggs in the back as well. My gregarious Thai pals motioned me to join them. Being the old guy in the group, I was given a seat in the cab. The drunk sadly waved good bye. The driver cruised along about 50 MPH. Some of the crew sat up on the side rails, which made me very nervous. Hit one deep pothole and they would be history.

Eventually we were dropped off and started waving for another ride. They invited me to go camping with them. They were headed to a national park in the mountains. Thought I might do it, but a truck stopped with only enough room for the 6 of them. They wanted to make room for me, but it would have been very cramped. So, I declined to join them and wished them "choke dee"(good luck.) This experience helps show that magical thinking can work, especially in Thailand.

"Any ride is a good ride." Further down the highway, I spotted an old Thai farm tractor chugging along towards me. There were a bunch of children in the back. I waved as they went by and the driver stopped. I was in no hurry, so jumped onboard. It was a first for me. After a mile or two, we stopped at a major intersection. I jumped off, snapped a picture, and thanked them.

"Don't hitch and drink." It was early afternoon when I got another ride. This person was very jolly and wanted me to buy some beer and perhaps stay in his home that night. It was early for me but said OK. Bought a couple bottles of Beer Chaang. Before I could open a bottle for him, he shoved it in his mouth and removed the cap with his teeth! Within a few minutes, we were at his home, which was near the entrance to a national park, probably the park where my young hiking mates were headed.

We sat on floor mats in front area of the home. There were some chickens running loose in the yard. Various members of the family showed up and had some of the beer. Then the guy suggested I buy three more big bottles. Apparently, they were ready to settle into a major session and I would be funding it. The first five beers would only be the tip of the iceberg. In a couple of hours, word would be out and the whole village would be at the house drinking themselves silly. Politely made it clear that I had to be moving on. Then picked up my pack and walked out to the highway to continue my journey.

"Hitchhiking is a cumulative experience, a never-ending happening of unknown factors which contribute, with a little luck, to a memory of what real traveling is all about -- not just the chance to say that you've been to a place, but the feeling that one time, somewhere, even if only for an instant, you felt like you had become a part of the land through which you were traveling." -- Ken Welsh

Give the Gift of Sight

One day last month in Ubon Ratchathani province in NE Thailand 3,405 people received free eye exams and glasses if they needed them, thanks to an organization called Give the Gift of Sight. "Slow day," one of the volunteers said. Farmers, monks, and villagers come from miles around to get their eyes examined.

This humanitarian mission has just wrapped up and the group is hoping to have given away all of the 65,000 recycled glasses that a family of eye glass specialists brought from Italy. [Last February 26,282 people in the Chiang Mai area were also seen.] Give the Gift of Sight is also handing out heaps of sun glasses as well to stop the sun damage they're seeing.


This week, I waited with a friend for several hours at Chiang Mai Ram Hospital. The large waiting area was centered in a large atrium with all the medical specialty offices radiating out from that with lots of glass and few doors - great opportunity to get an overview of all that was going on. Many of the Thai nurses were wearing very attractive form-fitting white uniforms and heels; they looked very sharp, efficient and. . . lovely. This was the kind of nurse image little girls used to daydream about back in the 50s (and men probably still do.) [Photo of nearby Chedi on my bike route.]


Perhaps the time is coming when I shall have to move on and explore somewhere else, somewhere not quite so comfortable and seductive with all it has to offer. I just read in Chiang Mai News, "Last week I realized I had managed to reach the stage where it was possible to take the whole day just to make a cup of tea." [I'm not quite that bad yet, but what an simple life this is.] The trouble is that I enjoy being here so much that it's hard to break free. But so much more to explore - here and elsewhere. I still haven't decided how much adventure I want in my life and how much I want to stay put, relatively speaking, and become part of a community. [Photo of another one of my favorite shops.]

Yesterday, I was standing outside Kun Dtuum's home taking photos of her hanging orchids. Her husband drove up and took my camera so he could take a photo of the two of us in front of their home.


"Some journeys take us away from it all, to places no one knows us; some take us to where it seems we've always been. And whether we venture to a new part our country or into an entirely new culture, travel forever changes the boundaries of the world we once knew."

Three Good Books

Here are three more books that I have read and heartily recommend.

Do They Hear You When you Cry by Fauziya Kassindja - a memoir of a 16-yr old woman who fled her home in Togo, a small country in Africa, in the mid-90s as she was yanked out of high school and forced into marriage. Her husband was 30 years her senior and already had three wives. On the day of her marriage, she was about to undergo her tribe's ritual genital mutilation. She escaped to the U.S. and most of the book describes her cruel and inhumane experiences in various U.S. detention facilities for immigrants seeking asylum.

First They Killed My Father - A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers by Loung Ung, a childhood survivor of Pol Pot's regime has written "a riveting narrative of war, desperate actions and the unnerving strength of a child and a family." Because of the starvation and deprivation, the women of Cambodia in the 1970s were so underfed, overworked, and filled with fear that must could not become pregnant and if they did, many suffered miscarriages. In Cambodia today there is a generation of children completely missing. I learned that the reason there are fewer disabled people in Cambodia [from loss of limbs from mines] is because the Khmer Rouge simply killed any people who survived the accidental mine detonations.

red CHINA blues: My Long March from Mao to Now by Jan Wong - the memoir of a Canadian born ethnic Chinese who, so disaffected with the government and policies and culture of North American, she embraced Maoism and lived in China for many years, as a student and later, as a reporter. She gradually became thoroughly disillusioned with China's government and policies. A witty and very personal strong voice.
Note: one individual she wrote about named all of his six children Fu Min, using different ideograms for min, comparable to naming your six kids leslee, lesley, leslie, lezlee, lezley, lezlie. [Joyce - thought you would enjoy this.]

As a student she was assigned to write for a chapter for a book on Chinese history. She chose the Taiping Rebellion, which I had heard of but knew little about. There was a massive peasant uprising with neo-Christian roots that lasted from 1851 to 1864 and resulted in 20 million deaths.

The following took place at a workfarm in which she insisted on particapating when she was a foreign student. "At night, we poured half a bottle of pesticide into a washbasin, diluted it with water, and sprinkled it with our bare hands over the floors and walls until our room reeked. I watched the mosquitoes die in mid-flight and tried not to think what it [might be] doing to my descendants."

I’m convinced that to maintain one’s self on this earth is not a hardship, but a pastime, if we will live simply and wisely. – Thoreau

Thai Translations

Mist? Fog?
The more vocabulary I learn in Thai, the more I understand how most of their multisyllabic words are made from joining together two or three simple words. For example, one of the words for "mist" or "fog" is called "shy rain." [This photo was taken on the Thai Burma border.]


ข อ โ ท ษ ข า is khòór thôht kaa, equivalent to "excuse me," used if bumping into someone or when trying to get someone's attention. But with a slight difference: "Please excuse me" in English translates into Thai to mean "Please punish me!"
[This is the AUA Language Center.]

Some Thai proverbs translate perfectly into English. Others are a bit oddly interpreted. My favorite is "To know things in the same way a duck does" which apparently is translated in English to be the equivalent of "Jack of all trades, master of none."

Don't catch fish with both hands = You can't have your cake and eat it, too.
Playing the violin for water buffalo = Casting pearls before swine.
Bad seven times, good seven times = Every cloud has a silver lining.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire =
Out of the tiger's mouth into the alligator's.
Splitting hard wood with an axe = Calling a spade a spade.
Buddhist holy days don't occur only once = Every dog has his day.

"This was the moment I longed for every day. Settling at a heavy inn table, thawing and tingling, with wine, bread, and cheese handy and my papers, books and diary all laid out; writing up the day's doings, hunting for words in the dictionary, struggling with verses, or merely subsiding in a vacuous and contented trance while snow thawed off my boots." Patrick Leigh Fermor

Examining your life...

Jon Katz writes about change in Running to the Mountain - A Midlife Adventure. "There is a huge risk involved in examining your life. You may find that you’re not all happy with the life you are living, that you’re unfilled. Before, you might have been content to stumble along, to accept the reality of your life. But now – to change or not? Will you regret it? . . . . Self-awareness, introspection, searches for the meaning of things – all these are hard, painful undertakings. And there’s a huge risk involved whenever you seek to discover what’s inside you, what you’re made of. . . . We’re taught to be frightened of change. What if I love what I have and don't want to explore? What if I try and fail? The drama of it all is that when all is said and done there’s a choice – get help when needed, take risks if necessary, make changes when appropriate. In my experience, the people who do these things have more often found happiness than the people who haven’t. . . . The choice of risk versus caution looms in front of us. Happiness is the hope for much of what we do. If we have that, stasis is fine. If we don’t, change and risk are sometimes the only choice. . . . I shouldn’t overlook one of life’s most basic tasks – to have a good time."


To be sure that your friend is your friend, you must go with him on a journey, travel with him day and night, go with him near and far. -- Angolan proverb

Ah, For the Simple Life

Ah, for the simple life...
by
Edgar Allen Beem
as seen in The Forecaster,
a Portland area weekly

Nov 29, 2007

As we begin to freeze in place for the winter, that familiar old escapist fantasy starts percolating in my aging brrrain again. No, it’s not the one about becoming a beachcomber on an island in the Caribbean, though it is related. It’s that fantasy about simplifying my life, unplugging myself from the electronic maze and breaking free of the comfortable consumer attachments that entangle us all.

It starts when I wake in the dark to hear the furnace purring in the basement and the heating pipes signaling their expansive (and expensive) warmth with a chorus of metallic creaks and clicks. As my bare feet touch the cold floor I have to resist the urge to turn the thermostat up from 62 to something more temperate. It’s not that I’m cheap or poor; it’s just that even in my denatured suburban state of being I have this elemental ethical sense that when it’s cold you should know it’s cold. Barefoot in November is a luxury none of us can afford.

I do wish I didn’t have to pay fuel bills, gas bills, phone bills, cable TV bills, Internet bills, insurance premiums, car payments, education loan payments and the mortgage, but it’s not so much the money that bothers me as the dependency. (The money does, however, bother Carolyn, who actually writes the checks and must be avoided whenever she is paying bills.) Could I live without an automobile? Could we live without two?

In my escapist fantasy, I live in a cabin in the woods. (At the moment I am eying the garden shed in the backyard as a potential abode.) I walk wherever I need to go, burn wood in a little stove, haul water from a stream, write by hand and read by candlelight. It’s a Thoreauvian existence, close to nature, free of any illusions of security. There are no bills to pay, no e-mails to send or reply to, no telephone calls to answer or make, not even any mail. If you want to talk to me, you have to come to where I am and speak with me face-to-face.

In my fantasy life, I am something of a hermit. I am hairy, unshaven and foul smelling (all of which is probably true in my real life as well.) I’m a bit odd, but perfectly harmless (ditto.) I eat only what I can grow, gather or kill. I am self-sufficient.

I am also in denial. I can only imagine what Carolyn, who is away visiting her sister in Massachusetts, would say if she were reading this over my shoulder.
"A cabin in the woods? You won’t even go camping with us, you jerk!"

True. And I don’t hunt or fish. For that matter, I don’t do any gardening other than a little weeding around Carolyn’s basil and tomatoes. Carolyn, who comes from sturdy Polish peasant stock, could probably live the life I am imagining, but I couldn’t. I’d last about an hour and half alone in the wilderness.

I would like to believe, however, that I could eliminate some of the encumbrances from my badly compromised life. If I can’t drip out, maybe I can downsize. I’m just not sure where to start. Maybe we could try getting along with one car. I dimly recall eking out a meager living as a writer through the mails, but I’m not sure magazine and newspaper editors would know what to do with a paper manuscript anymore. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure where I’d get typewriter ribbons these days. I have the feeling I might read more if we got rid of the television, but then how would I watch the Red Sox and the Patriots? (That was one of the issues I hadn’t quite worked out when I was living as a hermit in the woods. A transistor radio maybe?)

Obviously, I am making light of the fact that I am completely unprepared, physically and psychologically, to live the simple life I philosophically imagine for myself, yet the urge is real nonetheless. Like most Americans, I have sacrificed far too much to comfort and convenience and the illusion of permanence. That is why I keep a snapshot of a Buddhist monk tacked on the bookshelf above my desk.

Thuy Giac Than was a Vietnamese monk in Thich Nhat Hanh’s Order of Interbeing. I visited with him quite often when he was living at the Maple Forest Monastery in Vermont. Thuy Giac Than was about my age and I saw in him my better self, my higher nature. He owned nothing but his robe and sandals. He lived entirely in the moment. He was ill when I first met him and he died a year or two later. Even as I indulge myself, materially and metaphorically, I am ever mindful of something Thuy Giac Than said a few months before he passed away."

"The emptier I get,” he told me, “the happier I become."

Words to live by – if I only knew how. No, I take that back. I do know how. We all know how. We just lack the will.

[End of article.]

Chiang Dao

Here are some photos from my trip with Trudi to the village of Chang Dao . Chang Dao is a beautiful area about 60 km away from Chiang Mai. It is known simply for its natural beauty and a small mountain that has a large cave as part of a stunning Buddhist temple at the top. There were 503 steps for us to climb and it was well worth it. This small town was a lovely change from bustling in hustling in Chiang Mai and the food there was fabulous. And it was great fun traveling with Trudi! Which reminds me of one of Mark Twain's famous lines - "I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them, than to travel with them."

Here's a link to a photo album of a few of the flowers back in our neighborhood on the west side of the old city. I'm trying to learn the common names of as many of them as I can by using the library and googling images.



"Why do people travel? To escape their creditors. To find a warmer or cooler clime. To sell Coca-Cola to the Chinese. To find out what is over the seas, over the hills and far away, round the corner, over the garden wall." -- Eric Newby, A Traveller’s Life