My House

My first day in Ranong Chris took me to see my house’s twin sister. I have to admit, I was a little taken aback. First of all, nobody had provided any information about my housing arrangements, so I didn’t know whether to expect a bamboo hut or a hotel room. I later discovered the reason for this: another American – a grad student named Dawn, will be arriving with her “team” of researchers. I was told she will have very specific needs, many of which will remain to be known until her arrival (Amazing how one can be so vague about “specific needs”). Therefore, my arrangements have to be flexible, as I may be expected to move to make way for her team at the end of the week. I honestly don’t mind – one home is as good as another for my purposes here.

Scenes from my street

It was difficult to get a sense of the place that first visit because I was distracted by rows of whirring sewing machines, and women dressed in colorful fabric. The project has been leasing the space out to a women’s group as part of a microfinance endeavor. The women make Muslim headscarves during the day in an effort to stimulate the lagging post-tsunami economy. From what I could tell amid the flurry of sewing activity, the apartment contained two rooms, a bed, a sink, and a toilet.

The next day I threw my weight into a heavy steel grate door and stepped into the adjoining unit – my new home. Immediately I noticed a few obvious differences from the sister apartment: 1) An absence of sewing machines, and 2) the addition of a small table, a few plastic chairs and a fan.

My house is the unit on the left

The bathroom probably deserves its own blog entry. The floor has a drain and the whole room functions as one multi-use shower/toilet facility. Currently there is no running water in the whole house. Someone must have anticipated this and left a huge garbage can full of water in the bathroom. I’ll have to figure something out when the water starts running low. In the meantime, I scoop a bucket into the drum if I want to wash my face or take a shower. Then there is the toilet. As far as I can tell, Southeast Asians don’t typically use toilet paper. Instead there is usually a hose next to the toilet and water somehow takes the place of paper (I still haven’t totally figured this system out yet). My toilet has the hose, but again, no water. Kind of a problem when you have no toilet paper…. Needless to say I’ve had to apply some fairly creative improvisations. By the end of my first night in the house I was still puzzled about the issue of flushing this strange new toilet. I looked everywhere, but could not for the life of me find any sort of flushing mechanism. I later learned that this is a gravity toilet, meaning you just have to dump a bucket of water to flush everything down.

The most confusing bathroom ever

So there I was in my shower/toilet bathroom, fleshiest body parts exposed to the relentless mosquitoes as I dumped cold water from a garbage can over my soapy head, pondering all the possible places one could hide a toilet flush button. Suddenly the air rang with a loud eerie chant. I froze in surprise for a moment before realizing it was the evening call to prayer. The undulating song echoed through the streets and the walls of my shower room with its bewildering toilet. What a humiliating and beautiful reminder of the distance I have traveled to be here.

Kura Buri

Over the weekend I visited the Saturday morning market and bought a few items for the house: a couple of small carpets to wipe my feet, some Tupperware, basic silverware, and a siphon to transfer drinking water out of huge 5-gallon bottles. I explored the food market and bought all kinds of fresh fruit, including something I thought was melon but actually turned out to be a very disappointing dry squash. The fruit here is all local, fresh-picked, and unbelievably flavorful compared to the bland mass-produced variety we have at home in the States. I am happy to report that lychees are my new favorite food. I bought a huge basket of the prickly red fruit and then spent a blissful half hour in the shade consuming the delightfully sweet white insides.

Kamphuan Market (1 block from my house)

While running errands, Chris gave me a little tour of Kura Buri – the neighboring Buddhist town. We stopped at a little coffee shop where I had what may have been the best iced latte of my entire life (sweetened condensed milk + iced coffee = pure joy). On our way out of town Chris interrupted our conversation with a startling “Oh NOoooo!”. I worried that the car was about to break down or some other tragedy was soon to befall us, when I realized he was referring to some kids on the side of the dirt road. They were trying to climb a tree where their bright red kite had lodged itself. We pulled over and spent the next 10 minutes using bamboo poles to dislodge the kite. We somehow managed to pull it down without tearing it. It felt so good to hand it back over to the chubby little boy at the bottom of the tree. He and his friends were appreciative if a little bewildered by the sudden appearance of these two helpful Farangs. Finally we moved on to a big dam that drains into my project area and spent an hour climbing over slippery river rocks and waterfalls. The cold water was such a welcome contrast to the hot, sticky, tropical air.

Top: Waterfall at Kura Buri Dam

Bottom: Wierd tree with fruit growing on the trunk

Found in Translation

Saturday night we picked up Chris’s friend Bao and drove north to have dinner with a couple of old Peace Corps friends. I’m not sure how to describe their home except to say that it felt like some kind of idyllic family camp. Set deep in the rainforest, the family and extended family live in small bungalow homes made from twisted red mangrove wood, with pointy palm-thatched roofs. Some of the rooms are just platforms with a low roof, totally exposed to the elements but connected by covered walkways with ornate banisters. When we first arrived, a couple of elderly relatives were gathered on colorful pillows on one such covered platform watching a movie. The rest of the family sat outside in chairs around a fire. The kitchen is simply a large open room with a roof, a fridge, cutting surface and sink. It was as though there was no distinction between the “inside” buildings and the “outside” forest. The true living room was just an open clearing in the rainforest under a starry sky.

Rainforest home with the family sign

Chris immediately started laughing when stepped out of the truck to find his friend sitting in a chair, being groomed by his 14-year old daughter. She curled his bangs with a pink roller brush as he greeted us enthusiastically. He smiled widely as she smeared white lotion on his face and explained that it was “beauty shop night”. His charming wife came out to greet us, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. It was now her turn to partake in beauty shop night. We could hear the hairdryer whining in the background as we sat around a table over cold beers.







Top: Beauty shop night
Bottom: Nam with her friendly cat

It was an evening full of contradictions: appliances in the open rainforest, dogs snuggling with cats, and Muslims eating with Buddhists. Bao is Muslim and was new to this secluded Buddhist retreat. For one thing, Muslims are not fond of dogs. They believe dogs are dirty animals and avoid touching them at all costs. (I have yet to see a dog in my village, though cats are everywhere!) Poor Bao was a little overwhelmed by the six dogs swarming around and under the table. I feel a little guilty to admit that I found humor in seeing this large muscle-bound man shriek and recoil every time one of the little mutts approached him. Conversation continued through the night and I tried to follow at least the subject, based on my limited Thai vocabulary. I know at one point the Buddhists (environmental educators and subsistence organic farmers by trade) got going on the topic of the interconnectedness of nature and reincarnation. At this point Bao went off to snooze peacefully in a nearby hammock. Chris and his friend took out their guitars and sang beautiful Thai folk songs as fish smoked over a pinewood fire. The daughter was finishing up “beauty shop night” with another relative and their laughter sounded softly behind us between guitar chords. I had barely been able to communicate a single sentence all night, and yet I felt so at peace and welcome with this family in their forest home.

Thai folk songs

Training Workshop

I’ve been a little distracted from blogging this week because I had to prepare and deliver a 2-day workshop for 20 watershed managers at the Ranong Aquaculture Field Office. Until last night (the night before the start of the workshop!), I only had a vague sense of what I would be presenting. This largely stemmed from the difficulty involved in coordinating Amrit and Kevins’ busy schedules during their short time here. They really left things to the last minute and assured me that it would be fine -- the nature of their work requires an ability to work on the fly. Consequently I had to pull an all-nighter to refresh my knowledge of statistical site selection methods and sampling design among other topics. By 6:00am this morning had I barely managed to finish putting together all my slides before handing them over to Kevin so he could add them to the master presentation. Operating on no sleep I somehow managed to get through the first day of this workshop. It is 3:00pm and Kevin and I have been instructing and facilitating since 9:00am this morning (He is finishing up his last session as I write this). I am exhausted, but to be honest I kind of enjoyed this stressful little fire drill. It was somehow satisfying to prepare and deliver a presentation on the spot and I feel like we did a great job. The participants seem engaged and are asking tons of questions. Plus, I have been able to acquire a lot of valuable information from them that will prepare me for my research here.

Top: Chris and Thai watershed managers

Bottom: Conducting a GPS/YSI field module

It is an interesting thing to give a lecture to a group of people through a translator. Often I felt simultaneously comforted and frustrated by the long pauses as I had to wait for the translator to convey my thoughts to the audience. Thankfully the difficult part of the workshop is over now. Tomorrow I will conduct a GPS field module and help Chris demonstrate the new YSI meter (it measures pH, temperature, salinity, dissolved oxygen, ammonium, and depth). Then we will spend the afternoon demonstrating the applicability of GIS to watershed management and finally the workshop will be OVER! I feel as though I jumped off that plane in Bangkok, hit the ground running and have been sprinting to catch up ever since (Some analogy with a pot and a fire, or maybe some kind of kettle springs to mind, but I am too tired to get it right in my head for the moment). I am so looking forward to relaxing a little and taking some time to regroup once Kevin and Amrit leave on Friday. I haven’t even moved into my new house yet (I’m not even sure they’ve decided where to put me!). Not that I’m not enjoying my temporary stay at the fancy Princess Hotel in Ranong…. I’m really looking forward to a swim and a good night’s sleep when I get back tonight.

Update: The workshop is over and it went really well! We got positive feedback from nearly everyone!




Sunset over Burma (in the background): A relaxing dinner on the Andaman Sea to celebrate the end of a successful workshop.

Kamphuan and Ranong

Ranong Mangrove Preserve

Ranong is a bustling city with a vibrant market, tons of restaurants, and some beautiful natural attractions. There are a number of national parks around the village, which is bordered by beaches and mangroves to the west and dramatic mountains, rainforest, and waterfalls to the east. On our way to the hotel last night we stopped at a big mangrove park (30,000 hectares!) where Chris did some of his Peace Corps work ten years ago. We walked over the mangroves along raised platforms and climbed high into a rickety observation tower to observe the coastline and mangrove canopy. Most of the mangroves here are the product of restoration planting projects that started in the 1970s. We saw at least 5 species of crabs, including tree-climbing crabs (and the crab-eating McCacque monkeys scavenging for them). Additionally we saw huge (2 meter tall) dirt mounds created by some kind of burrowing lobster.

Mangroves with lobster burrows

We drove into Ranong and made a quick stop to see the public hot springs. Local Thais and some tourists bathed in huge ceramic pools encrusted with colorful mineral deposits. I hadn’t seen any other farangs (white westerners) aside from Kevin and Chris for a few days and the hippies and spandex-clad Germans provided a source of mild entertainment. I guess this is a popular destination for tourists looking to extend their visas since they can hop a boat over the border to Burma and then re-enter Thailand with a new visa. The most amusing feature of the hot springs garden was a giant concrete slab – placed above the springs to absorb and convey heat - where people were lounging and taking naps in the already 90 F degree late afternoon. I stood there sweating, unable to comprehend this desire to be any hotter. People here have an entirely different sense of heat tolerance!

Natural hot springs in Ranong and geothermic lounging slabs

Ranong

I awoke early this morning and met Kevin and Amrit for a quick breakfast before we hit the road for Ranong, a 30 minute drive north. I was restless and fidgety from coffee and my poorly concealed excitement to see the villages and field site. We made a quick stop at the field office to meet and pick up several staff, including Chris, and ex-peace corps volunteer and boat captain who now works full time in the village. Chris enlivened the trip with a story about the “Rainbow Convention” – a gathering of 200 or so hippies that took place on the beach in Ranong last week. Unable to control his curiosity, Chris had tried to introduce himself by kayking up to the group with a bottle of whiskey and a chicken. The chicken was apparently a poor choice, as it greatly offended a woman who stormed away into the forest, where she remained for the rest of the evening. A japanese hippie “borrowed” the kayak for 3 hours instead of the requested one hour, which worried Chris (Who would expect a hippie to wear a watch anyway?) as he tried to decipher the convoluted linguistics of hippiespeak. Chris's recount went something like this:

“They were having a community meeting about food or something and I couldn't figure out what the f#$% they were talking about. They were all ' The magic hat is plentiful...' I'm sitting there like 'What the f@% is a magic hat?!' (Apparently the "magic hat" replaces ATMs in hippieland).

After trying to convince the well intentioned hippies that collecting firewood for several hundred people in the rainforest was not actually sustainable since it altered and depleted the local habitat, he left exasperated. Still it made for a good story.

The Ranong Water Quality field office is a fairly sophisticated sampling lab and research station.

We met with the staff and gathered feedback to prepare for this week’s training workshop. Afterward we stopped at a roadside restaurant for a typical family style Thai lunch. Everyone watched in eager anticipation of a spontaneous projectile reaction as I tasted a lumpy brown fish paste concoction. I am proud to report that I actually kind of liked the stuff even if my reaction was disappointing to everyone present. After lunch we drove to a dock on Klong Na Kha inlet,the subject of my research here.

We piled into a long, thin boat that curved gracefully upwards at the bow (I’m not sure what to call this style of boat). It was wonderful to tour the inlet and take in the surrounding mountains, lush and green with pristine rain forest. According to Kevin the number of mussel rafts and fish cages has tripled since his last field visit at the start of the project 2 years ago.

I tried to absorb as much information as possible and take advantage of this motorized opportunity. I’ve been told that I will be doing much of my sampling and ground truthing by kayak. We had a chance to speak with a few of the fishermen working out on their rafts. They were very friendly and happy to talk with us.

Kevin and Amrit had to return to the field office for a meeting, so Chris dropped them off and gave me a tour of the five villages. After leaving New England several years ago to live in this area, Chris definitely knows the ropes. With his wry sense of humor and affable demeanor, he reminds me a little of the main character from the movie “Office Space”. He isn't afraid to tell it like it is. As we pulled into one alleyway, he muttered “That's the dipshit who stole my kayak paddle..” before hopping out of the car to politely interrogate the guy in what I can only assume was flawless Thai. A National Park stretches 80 km along the beach – only a kilometer or so from my village. This is one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen – pure white sand and clear water with bizarre limestone spires extending skyward along the horizon. The villages are tiny and as in many tropical areas the heat seems to slow down the pace of life. My village is nicknamed “market village” for it’s active market area. My accommodations aren’t entirely definite yet, but I had a chance to see one option – a small green house next to the market and only a 5 minute walk to the office. We are going to drive into a larger town tomorrow to buy a bike so I can get around more freely once I've settled in. As much as I've enjoyed the domestic travel since my arrival, it will be nice to establish a home base.

Krabi and Kura Buri

Yesterday morning I flew south to Krabi with Amrit (program manager), Will (Amrit’s employee), and Kevin (professor of aquaculture from Univ. Hawaii). We rented a car and drove to a beautiful hotel on the west coast to attend a Tsunami Disaster Risk Management Conference. One goal of the Sustainable Livelihoods Program is to develop a tsunami response plan. Although I am not directly involved in this particular aspect of the program, I found the conference to be interesting and managed to make some good contacts. I was especially happy to acquire a project report and some GIS data from CHARM (Coastal Habitat And Resource Management) another post-tsunami relief NGO. I have never attended an international conference before, and really enjoyed the novelty of being able to sit outside in sunny garden while a headset translated into English the talks taking place inside.




By 4:00 the conference ended and we set out on a three hour drive to Kura Buri. The drive was beautiful, and I was happy for the opportunity to see the southern Thai countryside. Fortunately I was too distracted by the dramatic outlines of limestone cliffs and quaint village scenery to get too carsick on the winding mountain roads. Amrit reserved rooms at a lovely place called the Kuraburi Greenview Resort.
















It’s a small rain forest lodge constructed with all natural materials – stones, marble, live plants, and huge hardwoods (probably not all sustainable materials but beautiful). The main building is completely open and has multiple levels of open air patios for lounging or dining. The rooms are individual bungalows built into a hillside that overlooks a pond and the rain forest beyond. As I sit here I can hear the calls of gibbons, strange birds and insects, and the occasional wind chime. It is so peaceful here. With luxurious linens and an ornate marble bathroom, the interior of my bungalow betrays the appearance of the rustic gecko-inhabited exterior. French doors open to reveal a deck overlooking the pond. I am very aware of the stark contrast between this short retreat and the primitive accommodations I will call home for the next 4 months. It’s so beautiful here, I don’t need to remind myself to enjoy these luxuries while they last!

Future Park

Today is Saturday, and since all the University faculty have gone home for the weekend, I had the day to myself. Sort of... I was planning to take the bus into Bangkok to see the Grand Palace and the famous Emerald Buddha, but no sooner had I returned from breakfast to gather my things than Will - one of Amrit's American colleagues -- called to invite me to Future Park. The last thing I wanted to do on my first free day was go to an indoor shopping mall (ick!), but I couldn't turn down a free ride to accomplish one of my critical errands for the weekend: purchasing a cell phone. Amrit had suggested buying a phone so that we can maintain reliable contact between the field site and the University. Also this way family and friends can reach me if necessary. So I met Will and his friend, Nok in the lobby, totally oblivious to the valuable cultural lessons I was about to learn.

Of all the fascinating people I've had the good fortune to meet, Will and Nok are definitely at the top of the list. Will, a San Francisco native, ex-pro baseball player, and twice retired investment banker, moved to Southeast Asia 10 years ago and has since fallen deeply in love with Thailand.

Most Thais have very long complicated names, and generally go by shorter informal nicknames. These names often have a literal translation which isn't always flattering (e.g. "fatty", "toad" - seriously!). Even so they stick with these nicknames their whole lives. Nok, whose name becomes her graceful nature (translation: "bird"), grew up raising water buffalo in a small village north of Bangkok. Her family scraped together all they could to send her to college and she is just finishing up her last year. When she first arrived she had to take a job at a factory working 10 hour days, 6 days a week just to support herself. I have no idea how she could balance all that work on top of a normal college courseload, and still manage to be one of the sweetest, happiest people I have ever met.

Sweet as she is, tiny Nok (literally half my size) was a bulldog in the Nokia store when I attempted to purchase a phone. She kindly fought tooth and nail to ensure I didn't waste a single baht. Nevermind that the University will be reimbursing me for this expense.

After buying a phone we browsed through a Thai bookstore -- one of the more humbling experiences I've had. It was like walking ravenous through a grocery store of fake plastic food. Many of the books and magazines had misleading English titles, only to reveal on the inside a dizzying maze of Thai text. I have been told that I shouldn't even bother learning to read Thai, since I won't be here long enough to develop the requisite skills. To my ignorant American brain the text looks for all the world like tracks left by tiny microbes skating across the page. It was in this befuddled state of mind that I bumbled through the bookstore like a big white Neanderthal, towering over bookshelves, ultimately relegated to the childrens' section with big pretty picture books. Who doesn't like a good book with pictures of dinosaurs, honestly?...

Finally we left the bookstore and had lunch at a wonderful restaurant that prepares Thai food "Suki" style. This basically means that you order a variety of raw ingredients and cook them in boiling broth at the center of the table. Like fondu or any other style of communal cooking/dining, this culinary experience lends itself to good conversation. I think I learned more about Thai language and culture by spending a few hours with Nok and Will than I would have from days of listening to bland language cds.

Bottoms up!

Last night Dr. Amrit Bart -- the director of the Sustainable Livelihoods Program and my initial contact here -- invited me and his graduate students to dinner at his home in the city. He lives with his wife and their two young daughters on the 32nd floor of an immense highrise building in the heart of Bangkok. It was good to get off campus, if only for a few hours. Amrit's students represent a wide range of cultures: Vietnamese, Thai, Indian, Moroccan, American, and Chinese. His wife prepared a Vietnamese schmorgasboard with fresh baked bread - delicious! As soon as we walked in the door one of Amrit's students engaged us in a toast. I later learned that the putrid liquor that was the centerpiece of this toast was actually considered to be medicine in Vietnam. The brown liquid sat in a large clear jug with a tangle of ginseng roots and some other floating debris at the bottom. In Vietnam, people collect and add to this liquor various ingredients considered to have medicinal value: bumble bees, seahorses, roots, leaves, etc.... I have no idea what the different chunks floating in that bottle actually were, but they tasted like rotting prunes, a dead chipmunk, some used dental floss, and maybe an old sock. Whatever the "medicinal" items were, I don't expect to be getting sick for at least 10 years after two shots of the stuff.

Thammassat University

The University campus is beautiful. Flowering trees and water gardens are everywhere. Four foot monitor lizards bask in the sun and the air is abuzz with the sounds of unfamiliar insects and birds. It is HOT here! Temperatures are predicted to reach 93 degrees tomorrow -- and this is supposed to be the "cool" season! Still it is hard to let the heat get you down with all the smiling, helpful people (Thailand has certainly earned it's nickname "land of smiles" in my mind), and wonderful things to drink (coconut water, lychee juice, thai iced tea... ). The air here smells incredible! Every time I step outside I feel as though I am walking into a steambath infused with hibiscus, spices, and that wonderful sweet musty smell that lingers just after a rainstorm.

I hope it isn't disrespectful to take pictures of signs, but sometimes the language just doesn't translate and the misinterpretation is too comical to ignore. Sometimes the culture clash resounds in the most unpredictable places. I took a picture of this sign in an AIT ladies restroom:

I've Arrived!

The morning I left Pittsburgh, snow crunched under my feet as I hugged goodbyes to my mom and sister Elise. Nearly 32 hours later, I stepped out of a cab and into the balmy, 90 degree Bangkok night. When I first arrived at the Asian Institute of Technology (AIT) Conference Center on the Thammasat University campus, the building appeared dark and for a moment I worried I would be unable to get inside. It was nearly 3:00am. I was exhausted and could only speak a few words of Thai. To my relief, I found a hotel employee to check me into my room. I gratefully fell asleep, remaining in that peaceful state long after the sounds of strange birds began to echo in the early dawn hours.

I’ve spent the last two days catching up on sleep, tending to piles of paperwork, completing health screenings, setting up a bank account, and trying to figure out what life will be like for the next four months. The details are slowly unraveling, though much remains a mystery to me. I think “wait and see” will have to be my motto.

I have been hired as a research associate to work on a project called “The Post-Tsunami Sustainable Livelihoods Program.” The Thai government and USAID initiated this program in response to the devastation wrought by the tsunami of 2004, a disaster that claimed thousands of lives, homes, fishing boats, and livelihoods in coastal communities throughout Southeast Asia. For the next four months I will be living in a remote part of Ranong Province on the southwest coast (see link to the Map of Thailand). My field site encompasses five small subsistence fishing villages located along Klong Na Kha inlet, where I will conduct an environmental assessment and site characterization. I will be working to help local watershed managers develop a community-based water quality monitoring plan. The inlet is a prime site for aquaculture (fish farming), a practice that presents immense economic opportunity for villagers affected by the tsunami, while simultaneously posing threats to the local environment. My goal is to help balance these competing economic and environmental influences by working with local managers to promote sustainable aquaculture. How many fish cages can we place in the water before we compromise the quality of the water? Given our limited financial and technological resources, how can we monitor water conditions in the inlet to promote long term sustainability and foster stakeholder involvement in water quality? These are just some of the questions I will be addressing. For anyone interested in learning more about the project, I will soon post a link to the draft work plan.

I’ve already been given my first assignment. I have to prepare and deliver a training workshop for villagers at the field site next week. In addition to adjusting to the 12 hour time difference and scrambling to finish all the necessary paperwork, I’m beginning to pull materials together for the workshop.