Songkran in Chang Mai

Luckily, my trip coincided with the biggest annual celebration in Thailand: The Songkran Festival. This four-day occasion marks the beginning of the rainy season and the Thai New Year. It is celebrated in every city and town nationwide by a four day water battle, and of course parades and copious amounts of food, music, and street dancing.

Songkran is based upon an ancient tradition, whereby Thais carefully drip handfuls of jasmine-scented water on the heads and faces o their parents as a sign of respect. The cheeks and foreheads of beloved family members are then lightly patted with a fine white powder. Given the fun-loving nature of the Thai people, it is not difficult to see how this once somber and pious occasion evolved into a mischievous splashing of holy water and finally to its present manifestation: a full on nationwide water battle.

For four straight days, Thais old and young alike line streets and alleys in every city and town, armed with buckets, super soakers, and water balloons. Pickup trucks overloaded with friends and families patrol the streets, dumping water indiscriminately upon everyone, and everything along the way.

The festivities last a full for days (did I mention that yet?) and no one is safe from the constant deluge. Shopkeepers fill huge garbage cans with ice and water and dump frosty buckets down the backs of cowering tourists as they pass. Hoses pointed skyward soak everything in their reach.

You can run but you can't hide

I arrived in Chang Mai fully prepared. After checking into my quaint little guest house (“Smile House”), I carefully wrapped my camera and wallet in layers of plastic bags before taking to the streets to explore. This proved to be quite an adventure, as I was immediately soaked by a cackling old man who jumped out from a doorway with a bright blue plastic bucket of ice water. The freezing water was a shock at first, but it felt refreshing as the incessant sun rays were already scorching at 10am.

Within ten minutes I had purchased my own water cannon and found myself battling my way down Chang Mai’s main street, spraying Thais and tourists alike with water sneakily drawn from buckets and fish ponds. Everywhere everyone was laughing and singing, dancing and splashing as music blared from plastic-covered speakers in every direction. Gangs of teenagers roamed the streets, preparing for their next aquatic assault.

Fully soaked and engaged at this point, I crept up behind a pesky pre-teen with a Super Soaker. Transformed into a stealth warrior on a covert mission, I drew some water from a fountain full of frightened orange Koi. The fish cowered together at the bottom of the pool, hiding from all the commotion erupting above their watery world. I crept up and sprayed the already soaked back of his pants, only to be smashed in the face with a stray water balloon. It was pure, maddening chaos. Later in the day I joined the owners of my Guest House, their kid, and several other travelers in spraying all the bicycles, tuk tusk, and pedestrians passing the front gate. Intermittent trips to the pool made this an especially fun (and cool!) afternoon.

Armed and not so dangerous with my water cannon

At times during Songkran I was able to find a rare moment of relative peace. One day, just after a surprise ambush from a passing tuk tuk, I stood in the sidewalk wringing out my drenched t-shirt. An elderly woman took me by the wrist and led me to the shelter of a nearby tent. Ever so carefully she scooped flower-scented water over my arms and legs, and across my neck and face. Kissing my cheeks, she wished me a Happy New Year (Sabaii dii Bee Mai!), before sending me back into the Songkran mayhem.

I enjoyed escaping the chaos to observe from the (relatively) dry comfort of a café while reading and enjoying a Thai iced tea.

As you might imagine, a four-day water fight – even in the baking heat of Thailand in April—gets a little old. My poor battered passport now bears the scars of Songkran, its pages ragged and once cheerful stamps now smeared. Fortunately for the most part everyone was extremely respectful through the whole celebration. If I held up my camera and pleaded “Wait…camera…”, my would-be attackers would playfully run up and then gently scoop water over my legs with their hands, mindful not to destroy anything important. Every evening the water fight ended at 7pm, which afforded much appreciated opportunities for dry walks through the night markets.

My third day in Chang Mai, I signed up for a one-day rock climbing excursion to Crazy Horse Bluff – a scenic limestone cliff 40 minutes southeast of town. The climbs were tough, but beautiful. It met up with several of my climbing companions for dinner that night, which provided a welcome break from the solitude of traveling alone.

Ringing the bell for good luck at Doi Suthep

The following day I took a songthaew out of the city to a forest wat, famous for its ancient underground tunnels decorated with crumbling Buddha figures. Afterwards I took a bus to the top of Doi Suthep to see the famous mountaintop wat and get the est (if a bit hazy) view of Chang Mai. I wandered into the adjacent National Park where I ventured out on a short hike to a waterfall before turning back to beat the sunset as it quickly dropped on the horizon.

Thai-ing Up Loose Ends

It has been far too long since I’ve updated my blog, but I’ll do my best to catch up. After a whirlwind week of final site visits with Bao, I concluded the field component of my project and debriefed the Ranong Aquaculture Field Office. My final product will include a very thorough site assessment of aquaculture in Klong Naka. With Bao’s help I have visited every shrimp farm, mussel raft, and fish cage in the watershed. I collected location and production data for each of these sites, and completed a detailed map of existing aquaculture in the watershed. This map is by no means static or permanent, as Klong Na Ka is a dynamic system, characterized by frequent aquaculture yields and seasonal sensitivity. Rather, my assessment represents Klong Na Ka as a single snapshot in time. Ideally this assessment would be bolstered by years of detailed monitoring data spanning all three seasons. In reality I had to do the best I could with the limited time and resources that were available to me.

Despite adversities including typhoid fever, defective equipment, and a number of cultural and language limitations, I feel confident that my data and report will prove useful to the local government here. While three and a half months is not a sufficient length of time to collect a reliable record of water quality monitoring data, I believe I have contributed to developing a solid foundation (i.e. through site assessment and management recommendations) upon which an effective monitoring scheme may take shape in the future. As the fishermen of Klong Na Ka seek new opportunities for economic development, I sincerely hope that my work here will help to foster local promotion of sustainable aquaculture management.

I said my goodbyes and packed up my few belongings from the apartment, eager to embark on my post-project adventure through Southeast Asia. I then returned to Bangkok to spend a few days tying up loose ends and debriefing colleagues there. No sooner had I laundered my clothes, closed my Thai bank account, and outlined my final report, than I was off again to the Bangkok airport.

Khao Sok: Testing the limits of J'ai Yen

Bao was unavailable for two straight days, so I took my last opportunity to visit Khao Sok National Park. Though by car the park is only 2 hours away, this proved a more harrowing endeavor than I had anticipated.
As I rode the rickety local bus from Takua Pa towards Surat Thani, I knew only to go past the National Park Headquarters and get off when I saw a sign for a dam. I was looking for a beautiful reservoir rumored to have peaceful floating bungalows -- perfect for a relaxing short term retreat. The bus rolled through an increasingly complicated lanscape. Gentle hills gave way to steep rainfoarested mountains, then tall, crooked limestone cliffs, eroded into bizarre formations. When the bus breezed past the sign for the dam, I collected my belongings and scrambled to the front.
"Jute Ka!" (Stop the bus please) I asked as respectfully as possible, trying to keep my cool as we sped further away from my destination. The driver and his assistant only looked at me as though I had a cactus growing out of my head. I motioned that I wanted to get off the bus. The driver smiled and kept driving.
"No, no, I want to get off the bus. Please stop the bus (I thought I said. In reality I later learned I had actually been saying "Jute" when the real word for stop sounds more like "Jote." "Jute" of course has some rude sexual connotation. Apparently you don't make any friends exclaiming "Jute" on a public bus).
"Sit down" said the attendant, but my seat in the back had already been claimed by someone else. I stood there awkwardly with my bag, afinding it harder to stay calm as the kilometers ticket by.
"Please let me off the bus" I pleaded. The attendant grabbed my bag and shoved it to the floor, wagging his finger and shaking his head in disapproval. He made the motion of a wai (Thai sign of respect with hands placed palms together in front of the face) towards the windsheild and I realized that the shoes tied to my backpack had been pointing towards the Buddha shrine on the dashboard -- a huge faux pas. I didn't understand why they would not stop the bus to let me off. The bus had seemingly pulled over at all sorts of shelters to pick people up and drop them off the entire 3 hour trip until now. People had literally stepped off the bus into the bushes. Now as we sped past little yellow-roofed bus shelters I began to sense a grim paranoia. Maybe they were angry enough with me to keep me from getting off this bus altogether. At this point I was about to end up all the way in Surat Thani!
When the bus finally did pull over I found myself at a dusty intersection roughly thirty minutes north of my destination. I walked to a bus shelter and was immediately joined by a creepy shirtless middle-aged man. Although I understand only rudimentary Thai, I could tell that something was obviously not right about this man. He leaned in much too close and spoke words under his damp alcohol-laden breath (This may be the result of a misunderstanding due to the whole "jute" vs. "jote" conundrum, who knows..?). I could not understand his words but the tone told me I had to walk away, and fast.
I stood on the side of the road, exasperated. I had no idea where I was or how to explain where I was trying to go. I knew a bus would come but not when. Nor could I be assured that it would actually stop if/when it did arrive.
Just then a man pulled up on a motorbike asking where I was headed. When I tried to explain the reservoir he nodded his head in recognition and motioned for me to wait. He returned 10 minutes later in an air conditioned pickup. I soon found myself heading in the right direction, much to my relief. I was hoping he would drop me off at the intersection where I had seen the sign for the dam, but he turned and followed the arrow on the sign. The sign read: 'Rachamadajin Dam - 17 km.' I tried to explain that he didn't have to go so far out of his way to take me, but he just waved my words away with a smile and said "Mai pen rai" (nevermind). He didn't stop there. He proceeded to spend the next 40 minutes driving me to two different information stations until we found one that could take me to the floating bungalows. Only after I had a ticket (and at a good price), did he climb back into his truck, wish me luck, and drive away. Although he had spent nearly two hours driving and helping me, he refused to accept any money for gas. I hope I was able to convey the incredible gratitude I felt.
Thirty minutes later I was motoring across the lake in a longtail, stunned by the breathtaking scenery around me. Towering limestone spires dropped off to meet the deep royal blue water in all directions. After 45 minutes of pure visual bliss and dewy wind in my hair, we pulled up to a floating cluster of thatched bamboo huts nestled into a narrow cove. I was greeted by a suprised chorus of "Hello"s from both staff and vacationers. Several even wanted to take their picture with me. Few farangs make it out this far, someone explained. A light rainshower set in and I quickly settled into my little floating home for an afternoon nap. I awoke refreshed and took the camp kayak for a paddle and swim through misty jungle waters.

Floating bamboo bungalows

Afterwards, I followed a floating dock ashore, wher I discovered a muddy rainforest trail. I followed it through leafy vines and musty underbrush until the sun began to sink lower in the sky. On the way back I observed a family of gibbons high in the canopy above, their comical faces peering down to keep an eye on me. I ate a delicious dinner at the tiny floating restaurant admiring the sunset over misty mountain peaks. The food kept coming -- at least 5 or 6 courses -- all delicious. The steamed catfish I ate had come only minutes earlier from a floating cage attached to the kitchen.

View (sideways - sorry) out of my floating bungalow

After darkness fell I pulled out my headlamp and read on the little front porch of my raft, occasionally sneaking a peek at the stars. Someone played a guitar and sang Thai folk songs a few bungalows down. I fell asleep watching the stars through my little window as I bobbed gently up and down with the waves reverberating across the lake.

My (temporary) home in Khao Sok

Though I didn't request it, the cook prepared me a special western breakfast in the morning -- scrambled eggs and pineapple pancakes. A-ROY! (Delicious) I waved goodbye to the kind people I had met and enjoyed another scenic ride back across the lake. Before I could worry about getting back on a bus to Takua Pa, a boatload of people pulled alongside me at the dock. Seeing that I was clearly stranded in the parking lot, they motioned for me to hop in their truck for a ride back to town (i.e. random intersection).
They were college friends and members of a classical Thai string quartet, traveling on holiday with their elderly professor. I felt lucky to get a ride back to the highway, where I knew a bus would take me to Takua Pa. But when I asked them to let me out, they smiled and politely refused, insisting that I be dropped off at a "reliable" bus station. When we flew past the turnoff to Takua Pa, I began to feel my luck had followed suit in the exact wrong direction. I tried to explain that if they would just let me out, eventually a bus would come (they are scheduled every few hours along that route). "No, no" they insisted. "Everything OK." They reassured me by pointing at maps written entirely in Thai. "Mai Pen Rai!" All I could do was sit helplessly and enjoy they classical Thai music and the silly, playful company of these friends, all the while knowing I was speeding away from my destination (Again!).
More than two hours later I found myself at a bus shelter with only a vague sense of my exact location. I talked with a friendly young girl in my broken Thai and determined that a bus to Ranong would arrive soon. Sure enough it did. I was four hours south of my village and more than two hours south of my original starting point that morning. On the painfully slow local bus it took me 8 hours to backtrack north to Kamphuan (The drive from Khao Sok would have taken 2 hours in a car). It was a hot, cramped ride, but I was just grateful to be heading in the right direction.
Despite all the logistical complications I had such a wonderful experience at Khao Sok. I would absolutely do it all again. Only next time I would bring a map with English translations!

Ko Surin

In celebration of yet another National holiday, I caught a boat to the the Surin Islands with Bao and Chris. Jepp had kindly booked the trip for us, which guarenteed a great deal. Unbeknownst to us the trip included a wonderful surprise -- two snorkel stops along the way. The reefs around the Surins are incredible!
I haven't seen such species diversity since my trip to the Great Barrier reef 8 years ago. I kept losing track of time, diving down to get a closer look at a lilac puffer fish or green anenome before realizing that everyone else had already boarded the boat. Guiltily I would swim back as fast as I could to the patiently sputtering boat.

The boat ride over with Chris and Bao

Perhaps most striking was the clarity and color of the water. It sparkled a magnificent transluscent blue. Baby powder-fine white sands and the prevailing shallow bathymetry create this effect. As our boat approached the main island, boats around us had the illusion of being suspended in mid-air above the sandy substrate below.

Such clear water.... Doesn't the boat look like it's hanging, mid-air?...

By the time we arrived and lugged our camping gear ashore I was salty and starving. The Park Service has set up a sort of semi-permanent tent camp on the island that is vaguely reminiscent of childhood summer camp. There is an open air cafeteria, rustic shower facilities, and of course tents!

Ko Surin tent camp and cool outdoor sinks

Everywhere around us Thai families and friends had set up atheir litatle temporary homes, complete with hammocks, bamboo mats, and quain kerosene lanterns. Somewhere nearby somebody strummed a classical guitar rift. Lunch was delicious and made even more satisfying by the appearance of NATR friends. They were helping to conduct an environmental education program in the Park with some local school children.

After lunch I dragged a bamboo mat down to the beautiful horseshoe bay at the edge of the tent camp and enjoyed a relaxing afternoon reading. As the sun and the tide receded, I spent a few hours exploring the exposed reefs and tidal pools around the island. The marine life I saw in those crystal waters captured both my imagination and my cell phone, which I have since replaced with a much less reliable model (sorry family and boyfriend!).

Some creatures from my low tide reef walk: anenomies, clown fish, decorator crab, giant clam, and enormous sea cucumber. The funky rock formations were interesting too.

The full moon rose in the sky, casting shadows on the pure white sand. I scarcely needed the lantern light to distinguish the faces of friends as conversation stretched into the night. We occupied ourselves by excavating an elaborate all-terrain hermit crab race course. Amazing, the activites that occupy creative minds on camping trips.

It's a tense night down at the hermit crab race track...

I abandoned my hot tent in favor of a mat and blanket on the open beach. The beach was much cooler and amazingly faree of mosquitos. It was, however, full of hermit crabs. Though they didn't disturb me as I slept, their tiny tracks dotted the sand around me when I awoke in the morning.

The godzilla of all hermit crabs. Thankfully this one didn't crawl over me in the night while I was sleeping!

The boat back to Kura Buri wasn't set to arrive until 1:30pm, so I signed up for a second snorkel trip with Marion (the latest arrival at NATR). Because we were able to borrow snorkel gear from friends, the cost was only $2 for a four hour trip! On the way back to shore, we spotted a pod of fin whales resting in the protected waters nearby. The captain steered our longtail very close (too close, I'm sure) to the massive peaceful animals. When they had had enough of our pesky presence, those peaceful giants waved goodbye with their great flukes and moved on. I would have liked to stay a second night with the NATR folks at Ko Surin, but felt irresistably compelled to get back to Klong Naka for more data.

Wolff Invasion!

My parents and sisters came to spend a week in Phuket. I took the southbound bus and soon found myself in the company of my beloved family in possibly the most luxurious hotel I have ever seen. They were still tired from the trip and napped while I took a walk to explore the beach, three swimming pools (one had a swim-up bar!) and decadent rooms. The hotel had a fantastic brunch buffet and a baby elephant named Jumbo who spent each morning visiting each pool and the beach to play with hotel guests.

Jessica with Jumbo

We spent several days enjoying the luxuries at the resort and ventured into Phuket town for shopping and dinner towards the end of the week. I made reservations for Mom and Dad to have Thai massages. I think they were a little worried going into it, but they came back refreshed and raving about the wonders of Thai massage (it really is a phenomenal experience for those who haven’t had the opportunity).

On the final day we rented a car and drove up to Kamphuan. I really enjoyed showing my family around the village. We took a trip up to the waterfall to go for a swim, visited the local beaches, and ended the day with a delicious seafood dinner in Kura Buri. I was sad to see my family leave, but I was delighted that they came so far to visit me in Thailand. I think they enjoyed their time here, as short as it was!

At the Kamphuan waterfall

Burma Bound

I was eager to spend a day exploring Burma, knowing it lay only a 30 minute boat ride from Ranong. On a baking hot Saturday morning, I somehow convinced Dawn to hop on a Songthaew (a big truck with opposing bench seats in the back) to Ranong. The two hour ride passed smoothly and we soon found ourselves indulging in a long neglected craving for ice cream. We hopped on a couple of motorbike taxis to the Royal Princess Hotel – the same place I had stayed that first week when I was preparing the water quality monitoring workshop in Ranong.

After checking in we were off again. We grabbed a quick lunch at the market and embarked on a bit of a wild goose chase to find the appropriate pier. The first driver took us to a pier full of tourists heading to some local islands in the Andaman Sea. When we explained that we wanted to go to Burma, he took us to a business that operates visa runs for tourists needing to exit Thailand to stamp their passports for re-entry. No, no we explained – we just wanted to go see Burma and then come back. Finally we got the point across. After waiting in lines at the Thai immigration office to have our passports stamped, we found ourselves at a bustling pier that stunk of rotting fish and motor oil. Immediately we were swarmed by men trying to offer us rides across the bay to Burma. We knew the offers were three to four times what they should have cost, but could see no alternative. Just as we were about to agree to an overpriced offer from a winking boat captain, I saw a farang walk down the plank and hop onto a long tail. I yelled down to him to ask if we could join him and he motioned for us to follow him down to the boat.

Long Tails at the Thai Pier

Gratefully we took a seat and exchanged pleasant conversation as the driver played bumper boats with his competitors trying to approach the dock. We had no idea how we would make it back from Burma. It was just good to be sitting down and away from the pushy chaos in the crowded boat pier. Though hot under a blazing sun, the ride across to the immigration island was pleasant. Soon we were approaching the new coast. Dilapidated houses teetered on stilts over the water in a crowded line that stretched as far as I could see down the coast. We unloaded onto the Burmese pier and said goodbye to our farang friend.

Stilt houses on the coast of Burma

Passing through the immigration office proved more difficult than I could possibly have anticipated. Unlike the jovial Thai officials across the bay, these uniformed officers meant business. They scanned over our passports and demanded $10 US. I handed over a $20 but after a cursory glance the official handed it back to me, snuffing his disapproval. “No good,” he said. Apparently the bill had a tiny ink mark that disqualified it from use as payment for my entry fee. Luckily Dawn had a surplus of $20 bills and after painstakingly inspecting each one, the officer finally selected a crisp, clean bill that met his (very high) standards. What a relief!

“What would we have done if none of our bills were acceptable?” I asked Dawn.
“They would have charged us in Baht, and given us a really bad exchange rate,” she remarked. Well that was better than torture, which by the looks of the immigration office, was not outside the realm of possibility.

Billboard propaganda

Quickly we walked through the busy market and past the pushy street vendors. We spent the afternoon just walking through the streets of that Burmese town. Though just a few kilometers away, the contrast to Thailand was startling.

The first and most obvious difference was that traffic moved on the right side of the road, as in the U.S. Had I realized this 5 seconds later I may never have left Burma! Aimless and mission-less, we wound our way up a curvy road, soaking in this different culture. The people we saw seemed to carry an unidentifiable sadness, the kind that results from generations of poverty and political oppression. The outdated cars, old fashioned electronic equipment and worn, tired buildings reminded me of Cuba in many ways. Piles of bricks filled empty lots – even the most basic materials were recycled here. Those bricks had probably been used for other buildings hundreds of years before. The place felt like a time warp – as if nothing had changed in decades. I suppose that was probably the case.

A barber passing the time with his mandolin

I wanted to push on and explore more of that haunted town, but Thailand beckoned from across the bay. Soon the sun began to sink behind the mountains and we began to worry about catching a boat back. Judging from our experience at the immigration office, I didn’t feel Burma would be the best place to be stranded illegally. Fortunately a cluster of cheerfully painted long tails awaited us at the pier and we climbed aboard, exhausted but fulfilled by our brief cultural encounter.

Back to Thailand

Back at the Royal Princess, Dawn and I enjoyed luxuries unknown to us in Kamphuan: A swimming pool, a television with movies (American movies!), even bathrobes!! It felt so exorbitant, though it was really just a budget hotel. Dawn had been really stressed about her project so I knew she needed this break. In a way I did too.

I’m glad she got it, because the next morning we received a phone call that Som (her interpreter) had come down with a bad fever. Next thing we knew, Dawn was racing down to Phuket Hospital. The excitement never ends.

"F" is for Farang: Observations of A Foreigner in Thailand

Although I have been living here three months, I still feel as if I am just beginning to gain a full sense of Thai culture. I have gained some insight from books, Thai friends, and a number of ex-pats who have adopted Thailand as home, so my impressions are not entirely self-generated. But rather than blather on grandiloquently about the value of multicultural exchange and the personal awareness and fulfillment I have discovered through experiencing this new culture, I’d prefer to back up and start simply. When learning a new language one generally starts with the alphabet. I can only decipher a few of the beautiful squiggly characters of the Thai alphabet. But in other ways I have had to leave behind my western ways and start all over. So in the spirit of starting from the beginning I’ll share some of my observations of Thai culture – alphabetically.

A – A-ROY!

This is how you say “delicious” in Thai – probably one of the most commonly used words in my limited vocabulary. Everything is “A-ROY!” From phad thai scooped into plastic bags at rickety roadside noodle stands to the fare served in swanky upscale Bangkok restaurants, the food here is by far among the best I have ever tasted. Everything is local, fresh, and uniquely flavored in that indefinable Thai style that somehow manages to be sour, sweet, and spicy simultaneously. Ginger, lime, coconut, chili, soy, sugar, and a mélange of other flavors overwhelm the palate, reluctantly freeing the mouth just enough to proclaim that simple, deserving phrase: A-ROY!

Preparing a delicious Thai meal with NATR friends

B – Buddhism

Thai Spirit Houses

Theravada Buddhism is pervasive in Thailand and present in some most unexpected places. I have admired a spirit house outside a 7-11 convenience store and been scorned for allowing a pair of shoes tied to my backpack to point towards a shrine on the dashboard of a public bus. Amulets glorifying the Buddha adorn the necks and dashboards of Thais nationwide. Some protect against such specific fates as gunshot wounds, flooding, and infertility. But perhaps the most stunning reminder of Buddhist influence in Thailand can be found in the ornate and hallowed Wats in the towns, along highways, on tourist beaches and in remote forests throughout the country.

C – Cuteness

Seriousness is regarded here as some sort of social and personal dysfunction. A colleague here who retired from the investment banking world to work in economic development shook his head as he showed me his laptop, dotted with glittery kitten and puppy stickers. This “remedy” was of course a natural response from his Thai girlfriend who had defended her action with a sparkling smile and the words “You’re too serious when you work!’ ‘How am I going to show this in the boardroom?’ he had asked me, exasperated.
Not to worry. Only a week later the chief of the National Tsunami Disaster Preparedness Office delivered an hour long presentation to Government officials on power point slides decorated with Hello Kitty cartoons. Nobody seemed to notice.

D – Direct

Thais are very direct. It is not unusual for a person to greet someone by saying ‘You’re getting fat!’ or ‘You look horrible today!’ Personal questions that might be considered overly forward at home are merely a matter of casual conversation here. I love the open nature of social interaction here, though I can see how it might have its down side too!

E – Elephants

Elephants are everywhere: on beer cans, wandering the beaches, working to clear brush at construction sites, wandering through Bangkok in search of weary tourists…. Only the King can possess rare white elephants. It is said that past Thai Kings gave pesky relatives the job of caring for the Royal elephants – an incredibly expensive and time-consuming occupation as these elephants were required to receive the best care. This is where the American expression “white elephant” originated – it implies a large quantity of junk that is ultimately a greater burden than benefit. After meeting several elephants up close in Thailand I can easily say they are my new favorite animal.

F-- Farang

Two wonderful farangs: Gordon (from Scotland) and Jason (from Australia)

“The word farang is actually a Thai derivation from “francais,” but it is used to describe any fair-skinned, round-eyed foreigner from Europe, Australia, or the USA. According to Thai tradition, the farang inhabit a far-flung region called the muang nauk, the “outside kingdom.” One chronicle, the Thai Nya Phuum, sums them up as follows:
‘They are exceedingly tall, hairy, and evil-smelling. They school their children long, and devote their lives to the amassing of riches. Their women, though large and round, are very beautiful. They do not grow rice.” When the Thai call you farang it is not pejorative. They disarm the word with a grin or giggle. But they remain cautious. The farang does not have the great Thai virtue of j’ai yen, a “cool heart.” His heart is liable to overheat.’”

- Charles Nicholl, Borderlines: A Journey in Thailand and Burma

G – Gracious

Jepp's wonderful Auntie

Just a few anecdotes to convey how generous random Thai people have been to me in my short time here:

- After getting seasick during a choppy day on the water, my team went out to lunch. The owner was so worried about my condition (just mild nausea) that she brought out two types of medication, tea, and soup, then refused to accept any money for my “lunch”.

While hitch hiking:
- A man pulled over just to apologize because he had too much stuff in has car to fit me
- After I missed a bus stop and found myself in the middle of nowhere, a guy drove me 40 minutes to my destination and then spent an additional 45 minutes making sure I booked the proper boat and got a good deal
- A group of strangers drove me two hours (out of my way, but whatever..) just to make sure I got to a “safe and reliable” bus stop

While I was in the hospital:
- A nurse distantly related to a woman in my office (4 hours north) found out I was sick and came to check on me after a 12-hour work day. She made a special trip to the accounting office to make sure I got her 20% employee discount on my hospital bill.

H -- Holidays

A random parade in Phuket Town

Not that I’m complaining, but there seem to be a great many holidays here. There is always something to celebrate! Thanks to my time in Thailand, I get to celebrate the New Year three times (western, Chinese, and Thai)!

“Ngan has two diametrically opposed meanings: “work” and “party.” Thais approach each with the other’s attributes. On the one hand, they take a relaxed approach to work, seldom burning the midnight oil. Conversely, they my stay up until dawn several nights running to prepare a floral float for a festival.” – Steve Van Beek, “Thailand Notes”

I – Islam

Traveling southward towards Malaysia the increasing influence of Islam is noticeable. My village is predominantly Muslim, as are many small fishing communities along the Andaman Sea. Much of the violence in Thailand’s southern three provinces stems from a longstanding tension between conservative Muslim communities there and the Buddhist influence of the Royal Government. Fortunately I am living far north of this area in a peaceful Thai Muslim community.

J – Jute vs. Jote

While watching the numbers of my oxygen meter fluctuating wildly on a hot day in the field, I impatiently muttered “Stop!” Watching the meter and my reaction, Bao exclaimed “JUTE!”

Thinking I had learned a new word, I later found myself on a local bus, riding past the place I wanted to disembark. I walked to the front of the bus and requested politely to stop (or so I thought): “Jute Ka!” The bus driver gave me a funny look and continued to drive. For 20 minutes. I noticed looks from other people and wondered what I had done wrong. Later I learned that I should have been saying “JOTE”. “JUTE” is apparently a word with some sexual connotation. I felt really bad about it, but have been assured by other farang that many Thai words have a similar sounding counterpart with sexual connotations. I guess these misunderstandings happen often.

K – Khao

"Gin Khao!"

Khao means rice. Rice is THE staple, and comes in heaping quantities with just about everything. Once a man selling ice cream from a cooler on a bicycle handed me a scoop of ice cream – on a bed of sticky rice wrapped in a piece of white bread. Bao told me that he does not feel full unless he has eaten rice with his meal. I think most Thais would agree. The actual expression for eating dinner here is “GIN KHAO” which means “eat rice.” Rice is such an integral part of everyday life that people actually say hello by asking “GIN KHAO LAEOW?” Have you eaten rice today? That one took me a while to get used to (Have I eaten rice? No, it’s 9am. What?...).

L – Long Tail Boats

Long Tail Boats in the Phi Phi Islands

These beautiful boats abound all over Thailand, especially in the South where I am living. The engine is basically a lawn mower engine with a propeller attached to a very long pole. This set-up enables the boats to travel in shallow waters at low tide. The disadvantage is that they are extremely loud, and as I discovered in my research, have a propensity for breaking down at the hottest time of the day!

M – Markets

Every city, town, and village has its markets. In my village market days are Wednesday and Sunday mornings, with night markets 4-5 days a week. Grocery stores as we know them in the west are virtually unknown in rural areas. I am convinced that part of the reason the food here tastes so wonderful is because it is all locally grown and distributed. It seems that every piece of fruit, every fish is the freshest and best I have ever tasted. When you realize that the fisherman at the market probably caught that fish the same day, and the mangoes coming out of the truck bed likely came from somebody’s back yard, freshness takes on a whole new meaning, especially in a place largely devoid of refrigeration. Here there are no warehouse-distributed apples artificially ripened, eerily flawless and totally tasteless. The food is imperfect, and it is delicious. And there are 30+ varieties of dried shrimp!

N – No Show!

Thais are very modest and consider revealing clothing to be a great sign of disrespect. This is especially true in my conservative Muslim village, where I must wear long skirts and loose shirts to respect the local dress code. Even non-Muslim Thai women often swim with shorts and t-shirts. I’ve gotten quite used to swimming fully clothed.

O – Open-mindedness

Though I may be idealizing here, I’ve noticed a general acceptance of people as they are. Even the pot-bellied red-faced European tourist yelling in the supermarket is received with good humor and poorly concealed giggles. The same acceptance goes for homosexuality. According to the Rough Guide, Thailand:

Thailand has a reputation for being open to homosexuality. The Thai tolerance extends to cross-dressers and you’ll often find transvestites doing ordinary jobs even in upcountry towns. Possibly because of the overall lack of homophobia in the country, there’s no gay movement to speak of in Thailand.

P – Presentation

The overwhelming attention to detail regarding just about everything is remarkable. The tables at conferences and seminars are lavishly draped in silk with perfectly tied ribbons. Clean laundry arrives tied in a neat bundle with an orchid on top. Towels in my parents’ hotel rooms were miraculously sculpted into the shapes of elephants. Aesthetics play a role in everyday life. Yet while Thai people are extremely visually attractive, they are so unassuming and low key about maintenance of physical beauty. Women are more likely to wear big baggy t-shirts than make-up. I love this country!

Q – Queen and King

Being new to a monarchial society, I must admit to some suspicion when I first saw all the billboards and posters glorifying the Royal Thai family. My initial reaction was that it all looked so contrived and propagandistic, especially in light of the fact that it is a Federal offense to verbally dishonor the King (A European man was just sent to prison for 10 years for defacing a poster of the King while drunk). But it didn’t take long for me to realize that the sentiment and the support are genuine. Every office, home, and roadside inevitably honors the King and his royal family. Yellow “King” shirts – cotton collared polo shirts with the royal emblem – are popular items in markets and considered a Federal uniform.

Proudly wearing my King shirt: Long live the King!

Before the beginning of every movie in every theater a 3-minute tribute to the King flashes with an inspirational soundtrack as every movie-goer rises to pay their respects and sing the National Anthem. As Charles Nicholl explains in his book Borderlines: A Journey in Thailand and Burma:

“ King Bhumibol seems to deserve the adulation. He is an attractive, high-profile figure who spends a lot of time helicoptering around the remoter regions of the kingdom, setting up the Royal Projects one encounters everywhere: irrigation projects, hydro-electric schemes, schoolhouses, medical centers, temple restoration, road construction, etc. Historians say he has revived the “open monarchy” ideal of Sukhotahi, when the famous King Ram Kamkaeng was said to be accessible to the meanest of his subjects. He is a cosmopolitan man: he was born in America, grew up in Switzerland, and speaks fluent Enlgish and French. He is a typical Thai blend of tradition and modernity, and the people love him.”

R – Respect

There are so many different names to denote one’s relation to another. I can’t keep them all straight. The Thai language is extremely formal and recognizes different hiearchies, both general and within families. A total stranger might call me “older sister” because I have a more senior status. I find this to be very endearing – as though recognizing that everyone is related in some way, even if just as fellow human beings.

S – Sanook!

"Can want to have endless fun!"

This is the Thai word for “fun.” Thais are all about Sanook! After “A-ROY,” this is probably my most frequently used Thai word. It seems to pervade just about every aspect of life here. It’s no wonder Thailand is known as the “Land of Smiles.” Some historians attribute this to the fact that Thailand is the only Southeast Asian country to avoid colonial rule. Whatever the reason, the kind-hearted and fun nature of the Thai people is the primary reason I have come to appreciate this country so much.

Words inscribed on a stone in the ruins of the former Thai capital of Sukhothai read:

“In the water there are fish, in the fields there is rice. Whoever wants to trade in elephants, so trades….Whoever wants to trade in silver and gold, so trades. The faces of the citizens are happy.”

Though these words are hundreds of years old, they still ring true today.

Enjoy your colorful life!

T – Transportation

Sometimes humorous, often terrifying, driving in Thailand is always an adventure. Just a few things I’ve witnessed traveling Thai roads:
- A family of five and their dog on a single motorbike, driving down the highway
- A truck filled 15 feet high with coconuts and two monkeys clinging to the truck bed. The monkeys are trained to climb up and throw down the coconuts at the market. The seem to enjoy the ride, bouncing up and down as they cling to the truck and careen down the highway
- A motorized noodle stand (cart with roof attached to a motorbike) carrying a family of four and three chickens
- A very long bus ride during which the occupants were serenaded by a group of crowing roosters
- A truck with an elephant in the back – whoa. Pull up to that at an intersection. Crazy!
- Two guys on a moped with a monkey. The monkey was on the one guy’s shoulders, little furry arms wrapping around to grip his owner by the forehead.

Look out - it's a monkey on a motorbike!

Are those school children hanging out of that songthaew going 70mph on the highway? Why yes they are.

I’d just as soon walk over hot coals than drive at night in Thailand. Just as Thais hate waiting in lines (or so I’ve been told), they maintain a stark independence on the roadways and often appear to adopt the mindset that traffic laws are optional. I’ve seen some driving that would turn a Jersey driver on I-495 (sorry Kelly) white as a sheet.

Here are some examples of things I'd rather not follow on the highway:

U – Unpredictability

What’s that? The bus will be here at 7am? Great! By 10:00 you realize the bus actually is coming through tomorrow. Maybe there won’t be a bus for a few days. Who knows? Everyone’s got a different story. When in doubt always employ the “Mai Pen Rai” (not to worry) motto. It’s about all you can do anyway, especially when you understand only 10% of the language!

V – VOLUME!!

People here speak softly as if always inside a hallowed holy building. But so many other aspects of life blare on in deafening defiance to the polite customs of speaking. Cheesy pop music booms out of market stalls and urban shops. Trucks equipped with enormous speakers randomly drive down the streets as people make announcements to entire neighborhoods with bouncing techno music in the background. Long tail boats, motorbikes and tanker trucks without mufflers, the call to prayer echoing over the misty mountains at 5am….. Everything is loud, loud, LOUD! Forget sleep – there’s too much fun to be had anyway!

W – Wats

I cannot justify the grandeur of these incredible holy structures with insufficient attempts at description. Please see my blog entries from Bangkok and Ayyuthia for photos and more details.

X – Xylophones

Thai xylophones:

Y – “Yen” (cool)

In a country with a hot, humid climate like Thailand, it’s understandable that “cool” would be a desirable condition. Carol Hollinger wrote:

“In America we favor a warmhearted person, but a cool heart is the ideal of a Buddhist. It does not mean lack of compassion. It stresses the need to keep your heart free of entangling and destructive emotions of both joy and sorrow that assault you from the material world and make you act from greed instead of pure intent. If you seek more than your share of worldly goods you are not maintaining a cool heart.”

Also I can not adequately convey the pure joy a nice café yen (iced coffee) or chai yen (iced tea) can deliver on a roasting hot day in Thailand.

Cold drinks help me maintain j'ai yen

Z – ZZZs

Someone once told me that the two National pastimes in Thailand are snacking and napping. Honestly it’s so hot here that often all I can do to cool down after a hot morning in the field is shower and lie still in my hammock in the shade. In the absence of air conditioning, the concept of siesta makes a lot of sense.

When it's just too hot to do anything else....