I didn't know airplanes could speed, but our flight from Siem Reap to Bangkok lasted only 20 minutes and the ascent and descent were the fastest I've ever experienced. Matt and I arrived in Bangkok in the evening, and ventured in to the city to have a drink with our friend Victoria (who we met in Vietnam) before she headed to Indonesia later that night. It was great to see her and to check out a bit of the expat scene in Bangkok.
The following day, the intestinal symptoms I'd been trying to ignore for days finally got the best of me. I took a rest day and started some antibiotics (which I'm certain are magic).
On the third day, Matt and I took a water taxi down the Chao Phraya River to Wat Pho, also known as the Temple of the Reclining Buddha. It is the largest and oldest temple in Thailand, and inside one of the many buildings on the premises is a 150 feet long, 50 feet high golden (glazed with gold leaf) Buddha lying on his side in the center of the room. The soles of his feet, which were as big as barn doors, were engraved with 108 auspicious symbols made from mother of pearl. After admiring the Buddha and wandering the beautiful grounds, we headed to the Grand Palace, but were refused entry due to a public (Thai-only) funerary ceremony for the King's sister.
So, we headed to Chinatown to find Thieves Market, but instead found a thriving community of street vendors and a whole different market which was ENORMOUS. We had a blast wandering the crowded alleys lined with stalls, and tasted all sorts of ambiguous but yummy snacks from the chefs' carts. Anything you could want for life was on sale; from air guns to toothbrushes, cow's livers to new clothes, children's toys, pots & pans, raw, preserved, and cooked food, appliances... an entire city's-worth of possessions.
Eventually, we hopped a taxi to Ratchadamnoen Stadium, a well-known spot for Muay Thai, or Thai boxing. The rules are different in this game; you can knee or kick your opponent. The matches began with the lightest opponents facing off and the weights increased as the night went on. To phrase this another way, the first pairs we saw were kids, maybe eight or nine years old. Then they progressed to teenagers, young adults, and finally, grown men. I had never been to a boxing match before and I think this was a great first experience. The kids' coaches patted down their chests after every round to make sure they weren't hurt and I got an impression that the sport was pretty well-regulated. You can see my video of the kids here.
During the third bout, a man came down to us with a card that said, "this area is for gambling, please move to another section." But, by that time all of the good seats were taken and we didn't want to move, so we conveyed our point of view, and they let us stay. As the matches became more intense (and we were standing on the lowest row in the section, against a chain link fence) the gamblers were leaning over us or climbing up the fence to take bets from the section in front. We saw alot of money passed around that night and the crowd's enthusiasm for the boxers was quite contagious. We were continuously rooting for whoever we liked by yelling out the color of his boxing shorts at the top of our lungs. I put up a video of the adults boxing here.
The following morning, we had to switch hotels and take care of miscellaneous chores (sell some books, send a box home, schedule a cooking class). Then we inquired about boat tours to the "khlong" (the canal-based, teak house-packed, older section of town) which we deemed too expensive and decided we could have our own walking tour for a fraction of the price. We ended up on a fruitless but fun wander through a new part of the city, although not the area we were aiming to find. We headed back as the sun was setting and decided to check out Khao San Road. We thought our hotel's neighborhood was packed with travelers until we arrived at Khao San.
It was a Fear and Loathing-esque tourist zoo. Under the neon lights and hanging advertisements, to a mixed soundtrack of hip-hop, rock, and thai pop, an amazingly diverse group of people were all wandering the same street. The night market had brought out everyone, local vendors with hip t-shirts and stalls, bedecked mountain people loudly slinging handmade goods, upwardly mobile European families with babies in prams, ragged opium-infused nomads of the world, and people like Matt and I who just came to sip a beer and watch the show.
The following day we were up early for our Thai cooking class. Our teacher, May Kaidee, first took us to the market to explain the significance and characteristics of important vegetables, herbs and spices before bring us back to her restaurant. We donned aprons and inspected our bowls of ingredients, prepared for us like a TV cooking show. Matt and I and another pair of students diligently prepared the dishes according to the recipes. Then we would taste both results and May would throw in some seasonings, explaining the reason for each. We would all taste them again and discuss the final result. It was a great was to spend a morning and to learn how to use Thai staple ingredients and spices. And that was just a morning class!
In the afternoon, we took the water taxi then the sky train to arrive a block from Jim Thompson's house. He was born in Greenville, DE to a well-known family and worked for the military before moving to Thailand and making his name internationally. He admired the quality of handwoven silks produced in the country and by designing unique prints and using attractive colors, Mr. Thompson (wiki) made the silks universally admired and accessible. The cottage industry had been slowly fading out until he revitalized it, and it's popularity continues today. Mr. Thompson had constructed a gorgeous home in a blend of Thai and Western styles, appointed with his magnificent collection of Southeast Asian art, which became a museum after he disappeared while walking in rural Malaysia in 1967. Matt and I spent several hours admiring the art collection, the gorgeous home and the lush landscaping while mulling over Jim's connection to Greenville and his family's connection with our Mother's father.
After extracting ourselves from the strangely familiar museum grounds, Matt and I headed to Nguan Lee, a streetside cookshop recommended by the New York Times. The stewed duck was so delicious that I ordered a second helping all for myself. After dinner, and feeling rotund and spoiled, Matt and I headed to one of the mandatory tourist attractions of Bangkok, the red light district. Although it has become a standard stop on the tourist path, it didn't seem like it could have been watered down. It was absurd. I'm not going to go in detail about this except to say that the doors to all of the clubs were wide open, showing off scandalously-dressed women, and I didn't think much of the parents (and there were more than a few) who brought their kids with them to wander around. Who brings a ten-year-old boy to a place like that?! Really! This is ridiculous parenting. Anyway, after our fascination devolved to boredom and disgust, we headed home to pack for Chiang Mai.
Another short flight (I know, terrible carbon footprint, I'm sorry) before we reached Chiang Mai and found a place to stay. Then, we got straight to work searching for a trek to visit the local Hill Tribes that didn't involve 20 other tourists, gimmicky add-ons, gawking at tribes people like they're in a zoo, and well-trodden paths. And yeah, they get to see the "longneck" tribe with bronze the rings stacked on their neck, but we wanted to get to spend time with the people, not take a picture and leave (I state this so strongly because I'm jealous of their pictures and trying to justify my choice). Anyway, we booked a tour then checked out the Sunday market, full of mountain people (that's actually the politically correct name) with handmade jewelry and homespun cloth. Then we each got an hour long massage for four bucks before bed.
In the morning, we switched hotels before having a bit of an adventure getting out of town to a Tesco store. I'd been feeling guilty about not giving anything to begging kids, so I wanted to contribute somehow without giving them sweets (sugar rots teeth, especially in rural areas without dentists) or cash (money takes away the parents' ability to provide and encourages them to keep the kids out of school). So I went to the store and bought a bunch of school supplies to haul up to the mountains. Twenty bucks is enough to give 35 kids each a new composition book, two pencils, an eraser and a pen as well as a map of the world, a small globe, and coloring pencils for the classroom. After I got back, Matt and I checked out the night market which was fantastic because I got to ditch my old, paper-thin flip-flops for some cushiony, cheap, fake crocs. I never thought I'd be wearing them, but out of necessity I've realized they're fantasticly comfortable.
The following morning after breakfast, we hopped in the back of a truck to head to the hills for our trek. On the way, we stopped at Buatong waterfall which consisted of room temperature water cascading down a hill over chalky, white mineral deposits (video). It was a beautiful, sunny day, and the cool water felt invigorating splashing around our ankles as we climbed, barefoot, up the bubbly-looking white rock. We hopped back in the truck and rode for a little while before reaching a Lahu village where we had lunch before starting our walk.
We walked up dirt farming paths and through winding forested trails (used to retrieve bamboo for building homes, making cookware, and a multitude of everyday uses) for a few hours until we arrived at a Karen tribe village where we would spend the night. After an icy bucket bath in a bamboo-covered area outside, it was time to help with dinner (video), then we ate and hung out while neighbors dropped by to see what was going on. After the food petered out, so did the guests and we went up the hill to sit around a fire and drink tea under the full moon. It was a lovely evening, and I slept like a rock that night, bundled in blankets on a mat in the largest room of a bamboo house.
In the morning after breakfast, we bid a fond farewell to our hosts and hit the road again, walking first through an Akha village, then through a Palong village where we stopped at a school to drop off the supplies. The teacher had me stand in front of the class and talk for a minute which was confusing to me since the kids barely speak Thai (the tribes all have there own dialects) much less English. We stopped at a couple more villages that day before meeting our truck and driving back to town. It was an interesting excursion. An attempt at cultural understanding which left me all the more baffled and inquisitive. What century are we living in anyway?
The following day, we got up to take a massage course at Baan Nit. Thai massage is different from what we experience in the US because in addition to using pressure points, they also stretch out your muscles. I would liken it to someone doing yoga for you. It feels great and you leave feeling energetic and loose. Matt and I took a six hour course to learn the basics of the art. I took copious notes in the hopes that I won't have forgotten it all before I get home. Then I wrote the majority of this blog update.
We walked up dirt farming paths and through winding forested trails (used to retrieve bamboo for building homes, making cookware, and a multitude of everyday uses) for a few hours until we arrived at a Karen tribe village where we would spend the night. After an icy bucket bath in a bamboo-covered area outside, it was time to help with dinner (video), then we ate and hung out while neighbors dropped by to see what was going on. After the food petered out, so did the guests and we went up the hill to sit around a fire and drink tea under the full moon. It was a lovely evening, and I slept like a rock that night, bundled in blankets on a mat in the largest room of a bamboo house.
In the morning after breakfast, we bid a fond farewell to our hosts and hit the road again, walking first through an Akha village, then through a Palong village where we stopped at a school to drop off the supplies. The teacher had me stand in front of the class and talk for a minute which was confusing to me since the kids barely speak Thai (the tribes all have there own dialects) much less English. We stopped at a couple more villages that day before meeting our truck and driving back to town. It was an interesting excursion. An attempt at cultural understanding which left me all the more baffled and inquisitive. What century are we living in anyway?
The following day, we got up to take a massage course at Baan Nit. Thai massage is different from what we experience in the US because in addition to using pressure points, they also stretch out your muscles. I would liken it to someone doing yoga for you. It feels great and you leave feeling energetic and loose. Matt and I took a six hour course to learn the basics of the art. I took copious notes in the hopes that I won't have forgotten it all before I get home. Then I wrote the majority of this blog update.
The next morning, We headed to Wat Phra Singh, one of the most important temples in the area. It's a great exzample of Lanna architecture and the main Buddha statue is much-venerated. To me, this means: it's pretty.
The I headed to a local market in hopes of finding some of the beautiful handicrafts that I had restrained myself from purchasing at the Sunday market. It was a failed search, and although I left with fat pockets, I'm never going to see a Hmong tribe bedspread ever again. Alas. We took a red taxi (the back of a truck) back to the hotel to grab our bags before heading to the airport.
If you like beautiful things, rainbow colors,sunsets, or fluffy clouds, please have a look at this video of our flight.
The pictures in this post are: The reclining Buddha, miscellaneous but gorgeous buildings and stupas at Wat Pho, the boxing ring with a pair of fighters, Matt and I at the beginning of the cooking class, Jim Thompson's house, Buatong waterfall, the Lahu village viewed from a hill, Matt and I with our kind hosts for the night (I look like I'm bald and sporting a toupee in this shot), an incongruous sight in the hills, a pair of monks outside Wat Phra Singh, and a stack of gleaming Buddhas.
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