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Photos at last

2006-07-22T00:00:00-07:00

All photos and video from Thailand are finally online. I didn’t take many, save for busting my camera out now and then when acting like a tourist. The rest of the time, I suppose I preferred to see the land with my own eyes, not through the lens of a camera.

Enjoy.

Don Muang

2006-07-19T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-19, in Terminal 2 of Don Muang, Bangkok.

12:50AM UTC/GMT +7 hours Arrived at the airport and it seems every airline’s check-in booth is open, but United. I’m told they open at 3:30AM. There’s a waiting area here, so I’ve sat down with my pack. The airport is by no means empty, but is very calm. A strange state for an airport.

Kofi Annan on CNN.

1:09AM UTC/GMT +7 hours Just made a collect call home. Apparently Microsoft called me a few days ago for a game test.

1:15AM UTC/GMT +7 hours You know, I’ve been trying to follow this whole Israel-Palestine-Lebanon thing briefly when I get online, and I really don’t understand how anyone can be on Israel’s side.

I watched the first bit of Bush’s press conference in Germany where he said something like the “terrorists” are trying to “halt Israel’s pursuit of peace.” That’s about as crazy as saying that the US is pursuing peace – perhaps worse.

I read a few days ago that Kofi wanted a peace keeping force to go to Lebanon and stop them from attacking Israel, to give Israel an excuse to stop attacking Lebanon. How can he say that? If you want to occupy someone, occupy Israel. Give Hezbollah an excuse to stop attacking them.

Look at the numbers. There’s been, what, 14 Israelis killed? And how many hundreds of Lebanon folks (Lebanonese? Something like that)? Maybe Israel just has better bomb shelters or bigger boom sticks, but, regardless the reason, they are undeniably the more dangerous, terrorizing player.

Hell, the guest house I checked out of this morning has a sign on the front desk proclaiming they don’t accept Israelis because they’ve had too much trouble with them stealing. They’re terrorizing folks even here in Thailand.

But that was uncalled for. I’m attacking the Israeli government, not the people. And I doubt there are many Lebanon tourists here, so it isn’t a fair comparison.

Though while I’m on the subject of Israel, I’d like to say that they need to stop that compulsory military service thing. It blurs the line between government and civilian, and allows Israel’s enemies to justify killing of civilians.

4:06AM UTC/GMT +7 hours I’m at my gate now. The flight boards at 6:05AM, so I’ve about 2 hours.

Security actually acted like they care this time. They searched my checked backpack by hand, with machine, and even confiscated the waterproof matches I always carry with my first aid kit.

Those things cost like $5…

My money belt beeped going through the detector. It was just the zipper – she didn’t care to even unzip and look inside. I have my credit card in there, and could very easily have one of those credit card knives, too.

While they were searching my pack, I was asked if security could ask me some questions. I said yes (did I have a choice?), but then was only asked the usual “did you pack your bag”, “has it always been with you”, etc. I thought they were going to take me aside and poke something up my anus. Oh well. Maybe US will want to do that.

4:24AM UTC/GMT +7 hours I should mention that on my way to Bangkok, I put my backpack in 2 of the heaviest-duty trash bags I could find, in hopes of protecting it from the airport conveyor belts. It came out fine.

This time, I sent it through naked. I have no doubt that the bag itself will make it – it is, after all, military grade – but am curious as to the fate of the straps. This is a good chance to test it, since I don’t care so much about it going home. If it gets destroyed, I pick up another on ebay for $35.

5:39AM UTC/GMT +7 hours There’s a group of about 20 American kids here in bright green shirts. Look like high school. Their 2 chaperons are sitting next to me. I wonder who they are. From what I’ve overhead, they’re going to Chicago.

They’re being annoyingly loud.

The United folks are setting up for body searches, so perhaps I’ll be randomly selected after all.

Full Circle

2006-07-19T00:00:00-07:00

I’m home now. Been back since about 9AM. Passport Control and Customs didn’t pay me a second glance, and my backpack came through unscathed, so there’s not much of note to mention there.

My hand written journal ends on the note of American whores, and so it seems I’ve come full circle: disillusionment, escape, and now back to the realities of America.

I’ve shaved, showered, tackled the 967 emails in my inbox, and napped. Strange to be back in my own bed. Strange to be wearing cotton again. Strange, I think, to not be in Thailand.

Narita Once More

2006-07-19T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-19, waiting for my flight Tokyo.

3:51PM UTC/GMT +9 hours We arrived in Tokyo 15 minutes early, a good thing since security finally decided to take interest in me. My carry-on, at least.

The woman at the x-ray told her friends to search it. (I myself didn’t beep.) So another lady went through, found nothing of interest, and put through the x-ray again, but once more it was fingered. She searched it again, asking if I had any pens other than those she had already taken out. I told her no.

After a bit I decided I should point out the little slit compartment in the back of the bag that she seemed to be consistently missing. She reached in there and pulled out my Clif bar, a few receipts, and my mini camera tripod. Aha! The culprit.

Without the tripod, the bag was again x-rayed, and no alarms went off.

Funny thing is, I’ve never removed that tripod since packing it. No, I did use it once. But it’s been in that same place going through Tokyo airport before, not to mention Bangkok and Seattle, and no-one ever complained. Strange.

After that I went down to the cafe I had sat at a month ago, waiting for my plane to Bangkok, and had a lunch of greasy noodles. And now I’m at the gate, waiting for flight 876 to board and take me home to Seattle.

We’re to be served dinner and breakfast on this flight. The last plane served me breakfast, too: a rubber omelet. I had a bite, didn’t brave the sausage, and went back to sleep.

Let us hope I sleep on this flight. I arrive in Seattle in the morning and it would be best if I could stay awake all day and crash hard that night. Not that I’m in a huge rush to get over jet lag – I have no appointments when I get back for a week or two.

I wonder what movies will be shown on this flight. Hopefully not Firewall again. I assume they rotate every month.

Most of the people at the gate are Japanese. It was that way flying out of Seattle, too.

Two of those Green Shirts sat behind me on the flight from Bangkok. All they could talk about was the finale for some TV show and how much they missed Starbucks. In Thailand, there were actually times where I could be proud to be American, but that all goes right back out the window when I find myself back around other Americans. Most of them, anyway.

Can we really be such whores?

Official Press

2006-07-18T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-18 over a banana smoothie, in Bangkok.

4:42PM By the by, I’m an official freelance journalist of the International Press Association.

Oh, and Chad: You know those love-bots you make? I’m sitting here in a café called Illy that sells something strikingly familiar …

The Scam

2006-07-18T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-18 on a bench in Bangkok.

3:10PM I’m already being the stereotypical tourist, doing the whole Khao San thing and wandering the streets of Banglamphu, so, I figure, why not fall into a scam. Take the tourist image all the way.

Here’s how it worked:

I was wandering down a busy street, staring at UNICEF and wondering why they need a large, gated, guarded compound that looks like a government building. A nice looking Thai walked up behind me and asks if I was searching for anything. I said no, only looking at the buildings. He asked where I was going, and I said nowhere particular. First he tried to get me to go to the Grand Palace and Wat Pho, but I told him I’d already been there. He asked if I’d seen the giant standing Buddha, and I told him I hadn’t. He told me I should go because it normally costs 200 Baht, but today is a Buddhist holiday, so it’s free. And Grand Palace and Wat Pho were no good today, anyways, them both being so crowded from the holiday visitors.

After giving him my Lonely Planet for the map, he marked the big Buddha and Locky Temple, which I was to go to after. I told him thanks, and that I may walk that way, but he said no, tuk-tuk was better. Today, being the holiday, it would only cost 20 Baht instead of the usual 100. Just then, a tuk-tuk driver who seemed to be old friends with the Thai I was chatting with pulled up and asked if I needed a tuk-tuk. Before I could say anything, the two exchanged a few quick words in Thai and, the next thing I knew, I was in the tuk-tuk racing to the big Buddha. For 20 Baht

It was indeed free to see the statue, though I don’t know if that was usual or not. A few minutes there and the driver said ok, he’ll take me to the Locky Temple to see the Buddha there. When we got to the temple, I was told by someone standing around front that it was not open yet, but I could enter in 5 minutes. I waited 15, and nothing changed. I could see inside the room, and all it was was a bunch of old people eating breakfast and a few monks. It didn’t look anything special, nor did they appear to be finishing anytime soon, so I left.

The tuk-tuk beckoned me back and I was told now he would take me to the “Thai Expo Center” for some kind of coupon. I had no idea what that meant, but thought the guy had been nice enough yet, and all this for only 20 Baht So we zoomed off and parked in front of a gem shop. Some expo, eh? He told me to go inside for the coupon, so I wandered in. Yup, it was a gem shop. I asked the guy who opened the door for a coupon for the tuk-tuk and he asked if that was all. No gem? I told him that was indeed all. He looked disappointed, but scribbled something in Thai on a piece of paper, and I left. The driver was surprised to see me come out so soon, but motioned me back in to the tuk-tuk and we took off. In a little, he pulled over and told me what’s what.

The paper I had gotten was worthless. (I still don’t know what was written on it.) What he was after was a free gasoline coupon that the shop would give him for bringing me. Two if I purchased something. He was the one to ask for it, not me, and I would have to stay for at least 10 minutes, looking interested in an item. I was not required to buy, though it would be nice if I did.

We would try again, he said. This time at a tailor’s. I couldn’t blame the guy for wanting free gas, and it wasn’t costing me anything, save time, which I have a surplus of. Hell, he was driving me all over the district for only 20 Baht and gas here costs 28 (per what, I don’t know).

I went in to the Tailor’s he took me to, and the greeter asked what I was interested in. Shirt, suit, jacket? I latched onto his first suggestion and replied shirt. He showed me a few up front, which I browsed through, but was disinterested in. He then led me to the back of the store and asked me if I was looking for a solid color or pattern, but I said I wasn’t sure. By this time I was getting into it, and, when he asked me what color I wanted, I replied something darker. He showed me a few and I analyzed the craftsmanship and fabric, but, to pretend as if I actually had something in mind, I asked if he had any long-sleeved. Not here, I was told, but it could be made. No, I didn’t want to deal with that, I told him, thinking this an easy way out. But he was insistent and handed me his card should I change my mind. To add a final little flare onto my performance, I asked to see his fabrics. He showed me, I browsed for a bit, thanked him, and told him I might be back.

Feeling pleased with myself, I strutted out to the driver and asked how I was. Did I take long enough? The coupon promotion ended yesterday, he grudgingly informed me, so my performance was all for not. But he knew of another shop that would give him what he was after, so off we went.

This is a great time waster, I thought to myself. I’m glad I fell into it.

The next shop had no showroom, so I would have to change my act. Improv. Upon entrance on stage left, I was quickly shuffled to a seat by one of those Thais whose tailor has watched Saturday Night Fever one too many times. He gave me a few catalogs to look through, saying everything in there was next year’s model and would cost me thousands of dollars in the States. I believed him. The price, at least.

I flipped through the first catalog, set it down, and looked through the second. Then I picked up the first once more, turned to a random page, and told him I liked that one. It was actually a nice looking suit and I may have been genuinely interested in it if I weren’t morally opposed to the concept of “dressing up”. He took me over to the other side of the store and showed me the fabric. I asked him how much and he directed me to a couch. I was told to sit, while he ran off to find a calculator. (Thais rarely like to tell you a price, but will instead type it on a calculator for you to see.) He came back and showed me number: 4500 Baht.

I was surprised. That honestly was a good price. I acted to hesitate and he pulled off a similar suit from the rack beside us, beckoning me to analyze the craftsmanship. I hesitated and he asked what was wrong. Too much? Student? Tight budget? A new number on the calculator: 4000. Again I hesitated and asked for a card so that I could think about it and come back. No, he said, this was a one day sale. I hesitated more, saying that 4000 Baht was a good price, but was a lot for me to put down all at once (true). After a bit of back-and-forth, I was able to escape, saying I’d think and come back later today. He knew I had no intention of doing so. On my exit, I thought I should ask what time he closed to sound a little more interested.

Back on the street, the tuk-tuk driver didn’t look cheerful, so I didn’t ask how I’d done. He questioned if I’d been to the Grand Palace. Yes, I had. Wat Pho? Yup. Long tail boats? No, hadn’t seen those. Well, he would take me there.

He did so, I looked, snapped a couple of photos, and told the whole pier no, I didn’t want a 700 Baht ride. I only wished to look. Dodging the post-card saleswoman best I could (but failing), I walked back to the street. The driver asked what I would do now. Walk, I said. He asked for the money, and I handed him 20 Baht, thanking him for showing me around.

I really don’t know how much was a scam. It very well could be a holiday. Perhaps he got his coupon. Maybe two. Regardless, it cost me only 20 Baht (For what is really more of a 100 Baht ride) and time. And the boats were only a block from where he picked me up.

Afterwards, I wandered down the street to stumble upon a bakery that happened to serve slices of expensive (by Thai standards) and excellent chocolate cake.

I haven’t done much since then.

Yesterday’s initial shock is wearing off, and I’m once again taking a liking to Bangkok. We have a funny relationship, the city and I.

VIP

2006-07-18T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-18 in MBK Center, Bangkok.

8:30PM I’m in the Baskin Robbins at MBK Center – the one I first sat at all that time ago.

I came here for the theatre, deciding to pay the 250 for a VIP ticket to Pirates 2.

They aren’t kidding when they say VIP, and it cost less that a cheap ticket in the States. A huge screen, excellent sound, and the seats! Reclining La-Z-Boys with blankets. It’s awesome. The only thing the Seattle Cinerama has on this is size.

The movie itself was decent (English with Thai subs, by the way). I didn’t think it compared with the first – until the end. They set it up for an exciting sequel, and what I missed most in this one was Barbosa. Oh, and the actor who plays Chtulhu: I like the guy, but he pretty much just recreated his performance from Underworld.

There’s a poster for Spiderman 3 here. He’s silver.

I’m in a dangerous position…

Bangkok. At night. Time to kill. And a surplus of Baht that I will soon have little use for.

Back in Bangkok

2006-07-17T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-17, in Bangkok

6:05PM The train came in at around 3PM. From the station I caught a motorcycle to the Barn Thai Guest house. That’s the last time I do that with my backpack – I about fell off the back of the motorcycle from the weight of the pack every time he accelerated.

We drove around for a good hour trying to find the place. Nobody who the driver stopped to ask had heard of it, until we found one guy who told us it exploded. At least that’s what I gathered from the broken English and sign language.

Boom.

So I chose another, but they were full. The third choice worked out, but they stuck me with a hidden “key deposit” fee of 200 Baht after I’d checked in.

Ah, Bangkok.

They’re playing Pirates 2 across the street on a couple of plasma screens. Not a cheap cam or anything, either. How long has that been out? It must have been since I left. Explains all the “you look like a pirate” comments I’ve been getting.

I’m only about a 5 minute walk from Khao San, so I explored that a bit today. Where else can you sit on the sidewalk, getting your hair dreaded, while listening to 50 Cent blast from a bar across the street?

It’s not as bad as it’s made out to be, really, but I’m glad I avoided it before. The whole district is getting on my nerves actually. Next time I’ll go back to the Suk 11.

I might go back to Khao San tomorrow and buy a fake press ID. They’re cheap, and you never know when that could come in handy.

The guest house looks to have a bag storage service. It’s 30 Baht, instead of the free I’m used to (everything is much more expensive here in Bangkok), but it’d be nice to not have to carry my pack around all day. I figure I could pick it up and head to the airport around midnight.

My Baht was running low when I arrived today. I probably could make it through with what I had, but decided to exchange a little more. I’m not running low on dollars, but trying to hang on to what I have so I don’t have a bunch to exchange on the other end.

I can’t wait to get out of Bangkok, though I’m not looking forward to the long plane ride, either. Wish I could go back North. Chiang Mai is about as much city as I can handle.

6:54PM Day 5 of 7 for Malarone.

Near the End

2006-07-17T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-17, waiting for the bus in Phitsanulok

8:23AM I would like, sometime, to fill in the pieces. To record the events for myself and others. So much has happened on this trip, this journal representing only a very small part.

More so, I would like to write some sort of conclusion. Here, near the end of, I look back at all the people, bus rides, and blisters, and they all meant something. After all, they happened, didn’t they?

Old and Loud

2006-07-17T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-17, on the train from Phitsanulok to Bangkok

9:16AM This train is a bit older and trashier than the previous one, but the seats are padded and the air-con works.

It sounds like a diesel engine…

Towel

2006-07-17T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-16, in Phitsanulok

8:01PM I’ve managed to acquire a towel. It took a deal of sign language, but it looks like a shower is on for tonight. Of course, I’ve already forgotten the Thai word for “towel” he taught me.

Waffles and Disney

2006-07-17T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-17, in Phitsanulok

7:46AM The sky opened up, thunder roared and lightning flashed last night, just as I had reached the safety of the floating restaurant. The storm kept me pinned on the boat for a couple of hours, but eventually died down enough for me to make a run for it without getting too wet. I made for a spot a few blocks away where earlier I had seen tuk-tuks waiting. Sure enough, one was there, and he overcharged me (as usual) for a ride back to the guest house.

I’m sitting in a cafe now, with my pack. Breakfast is a banana smoothie and waffle – though waffles here are always considered more of a dessert.

One night in Chiang Rai, there was a street vendor selling waffles. Plain – no syrup, toppings of any sort – but were they ever good. One of the best, I’d say. These aren’t that great. Taste more like microwaved Ego, really.

There are two little girls here in uniform, looking like they’re waiting to go to school. They’re both watching the Disney Channel, the commercials on which are in English, but Goofy, Mickey, and even Donald are dubbed in Thai. (I didn’t think Donald spoke even English.)

Black Elk Speaks

2006-07-16T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-15, in Sukhothai

5:52PM I’ve finished Black Elk Speaks, as told through John Neihardt by Nicholas Black Elk, which I also purchased in Chiang Mai. I enjoyed the book as a history of the Lakota people and an insight into Native American spirituality, through the eyes of a Shaman and Warrior. It’s strange that a book written in 1931 can seem so new, even today.

What struck me most was Black Elk’s vivid memory of his past. He’s able to recount so many details, and has so many tales to tell. Yet after his people are slaughtered at Wounded Knee, he has nothing else to say. As if living the way of the Wasichus ended his life – all a downward spiral of no significance from there on.

Delerium

2006-07-16T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-14, in the Dream Cafe at Sukhothai

7:06pm I sit here, at the Dream Café. A covered porch in front of an expensive guest house in the New City.

Dimly lit, all wooden, vines growing over the front. Crescent shapes cut in the support beams with dim lights inside. Delerium playing on the stereo – appropriate music to be played in the ruined city of Thailand’s first capital, representing their golden age.

I came for the dessert – 2 scoops of vanilla ice cream 1 scoop of chocolate, bathed in chocolate syrup – but will remember the drink.

“Stamina drink,” the menu said. Traditional medicine in the form of herbs and alcohol, steeped for months. Could I resist?

The taste reminded me why I dislike alcohol. A spicy, strong rum, that somehow seemed to defy gravity and sit right in my nostrils. A shock, and a cleaner, but luckily only a shot.

Will I fly? Or only levitate? Will I regain perfect sight?

Not yet.

Mosquitoes are fighting for their share.

Multiple herbal mixture formulas steeped in alcohol for several months, used in Thai medicine for protection from sickness and ailments.

Formula 5 Rejuvination: Nourishes eye sight, nervous system, relieves pain from bad circulation, regenerative cure for the pubis.

Escaping the Heat through Words

2006-07-16T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-16, under the beating fan in my room in Phitsanulok

12:33PM In Phitsanulok now. Or something like that. I can’t figure out how to spell or pronounce it.

Perhaps I was naive, thinking I’d complete the trip with no more worries than where to throw my used toilet paper. Where I’m staying tonight, I’ve finally had to come face-to-face with the horror of an Asian squat toilet.

I suppose they’re not that bad, really. Just odd. There’s not even a pressure washer this time. Just a bucket of water. Luckily, I have a fresh roll of toilet paper with me. The strange thing is that, despite the toilet’s size, there’s only one small little hole for everything to go down, and that one little hole is the only place with water. So if you miss it, it all just kinda sits there. You have to try to wash it down with the bucket of water. And then of course it doesn’t flush, so after you get it in the hole, it all just sits there.

Doesn’t seem like the most intelligent design to me. I must be missing something.

I ordered deep fried shrimp for lunch today, but didn’t expect everything on the plate to come deep fried and battered. Deep fried asparagus? That’s just wrong.

It has been getting progressively hotter as I inch down south (though I’m still in the North). The AC on the bus from Sukhothai today was broken. It was only an hour, but by the time that was through, I was praising the 95F coolness of the open air.

Tomorrow it’s back to Bangkok. I went to buy a seat on the train, thinking that would be more comfortable and scenic than a bus, if slower. Choices with AC were limited, so I had to get on the 8:59AM train, and I’m not sure if I have a wooden seat or what. I will have to wake up early. Luckily the station is only about 3 blocks away.

The guest house here doesn’t provide a top sheet. I’ll have to break out my silk sleeping bag liner tonight.

I don’t yet know where I’ll be sleeping tomorrow, but I’m considering braving Khao San Road. I did my best to avoid it the last time I was in Bangkok. But a trip to Thailand doesn’t seem complete without at least a quick visit to the infamous ghetto.

My flight home is something like 5AM on the 19th, which means I’ll have to spend the night in the airport. Otherwise I’d have to worry about finding a guest house with an insomniac receptionist who would allow me to check out at 3AM, and then try to find a metered taxi. All unlikely.

At least I’ll have plenty of time to get through security…

Thanks to the magic of something-or-other, I think I’m due to arrive in Seattle only 5 hours later at 10AM. That is, as long as the hyperdrive isn’t busted. And Atton isn’t our pilot.

There’s only one thing I want see in Phitsanulok, and that’s a Buddha image in a Wat up north. He’s supposed to have some sort of dragon-flame-halo thing. The map makes it look to be out of walking distance in this heat, so I’m putting it off.

There are supposed to be a couple tasty boat restaurants on the river up that way. Perhaps I’ll catch a tuk-tuk up there this evening and have dinner after I visit the Wat.

There was a monk eating at the restaurant where I took lunch today. Aren’t they supposed to be, you know, begging and stuff? At least the count of nicotine addict monks is still only 1.

I hope all of you are enjoying reading this, and are thankful for my choosing to publish it. It seems most of the entries are full of my complaints. I suppose that’s the danger of traveling alone, with no one to whine to. I live the good moments as they come, and when I sit down to write, all that’s left is the bad.

There’s some good in it, I think.

In the Shadow of Stone

2006-07-16T00:00:00-07:00

The following was written 7-15, in Sukhothai Historical Park

11:30AM Fruitless, here in the shadow of ruins. Man’s labor, great civilization reclaimed by nature.

Crumbled stone returning to the womb of the Earth to become life once again.

Why keep playing?

The river is change, but endless. Coming and going.

Spirits returning to shadow, and the darkness engulfing all.

Only questions.

Looking and searching and grasping.