On the Bus

Chiang Mai - the Land of Happy Vegetarians

katiestoner — Wed, 25 Mar 2015 19:58:00 GMT

After deliberating for several days about our next move - should we leave Thailand now? should we head straight to Cambodia? should we attempt Burma? - we committed to traveling north to spend some time in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Had we traveled by train, it would have been a journey of more than 24 hours, so we wasted little time in buying a $60, 1.5 hour flight from Krabi to Chiang Mai.

Chiang Mai is definitely on the traveler circuit; we met many people in the south who were either coming from or on their way to Thailand’s “other” city. It’s also frequently cited as a “must see” destination in Thailand. Despite these factors, it didn’t feel too overrun with tourists, and it was much cheaper to hang here for a few days than it did in the south.

We spent some time wandering the streets of Old Town, which is a grid system of streets where most of the temples, historical sites, and tourist amenities are located. Within about twelve hours of arriving, Evan became pretty sick with what we believed to be food poisoning - the guy at the restaurant we ate was WAY too happy to see us and we were the only patrons there. Live and learn. This meant we had some down time, and I had some time to myself to wander the streets, running errands, and just checking things out. I took a yoga class, with a teacher who said things like, “is that all the further you can go? hmm...interesting, ok…” I strolled through a pretty public park with lots of colorful flowers and students eating lunch al fresco.

Once Evan was feeling better, we checked out a few of the temples, which serve as one of the main attractions in Chiang Mai. Out of respect, we were thoughtful about our dress, with me covering my legs and shoulder, and Evan wearing long pants. I didn’t quite know what to expect, but I did want to check out these houses of spirituality and worship. Many of the buildings that housed the statues of Buddha were refurbished or renovated from the originals, so they were more modern than expected, and some bordered on opulent; lots of gold, shimmer, and color. Inside we saw a mix of visitors: some were Buddhists, there to pray, which is done by kneeling on the floor before Buddha and bowing several times with your hands together in front of your forehead. Oftentimes, an offering of flowers or incense is made before leaving the altar. Other visitors were like us, there to check it out, take a few pictures, and continue on. There were donation boxes everywhere, giving visitors lots of opportunity to contribute, which is probably important for an active temple. We saw many monks, young and old, walking the temple grounds, blessing people, and chatting with the visitors. I am very curious about how one begins a life of monkhood, as many of the young monks are just boys, certainly not of age to make this kind of decision/commitment on their own. As we left, we passed another small building whose entrance carried a sign reading, “no women beyond the point.” At least there’s a consistency among world religions when it comes to inequality, disrespect, and misogyny.

Another day, we drove up to Doi Suthep, which is an important temple located on top of a small mountain overlooking the city. The drive was beautiful and winding, but once we reached the temple, it felt like Disney World, with swarms of tourists, vendors hawking souvenirs all around, and lots of general hub bub. We started our way up the giant staircase to approach the temple, which was crawling with visitors to this holy site. Once inside, we feasted our eyes up a giant golden stupa, reaching up toward the blue sky and glinting with light as tourists snapped thousands of pictures. There was a monk standing near me at one point, and I said hello, and made some small talk, which was a little scary for me. I’ll admit it, I’m afraid of monks. I’m afraid I’m going to do or say the wrong thing, and break one of the many rules that I always seem to be hearing and reading about. Another woman approached us, saying she was his friend, and would I like to take a picture with him. I said, “sure,” and stepped just a little closer, which caused her to have a minor panic attack. She clearly thought I was going to touch him, which I knew not to do, because if I did touch a monk, they would have to go through a cleansing process that can take hours. After the picture, we continued on, and I waved and smiled goodbye. As soon as we walked away, I kicked myself, because you’re supposed to “wai” (hands pressed together at forehead, bowing) to monks. I felt foolish, uncomfortable, and out of place. The point of sharing here is not to denigrate monks or Buddhism, but to share and explore my perceptions of Buddhism vs. my actual experiences and encounters.

I have noticed a striking difference between Buddhism in the West, which seems to be a little commercialized, a little trendy, a little new agey and branded, and the true, actual religious practice of Buddhism in mostly Buddhist countries like Thailand. I grew up Catholic, and visiting these temples, Buddhism didn’t seem all that dissimilar - perhaps in belief but not necessarily so in practice. It felt religious, dogmatic, full of rules, and just churchy. It seems that Buddhism has been co-opted by some, which was reinforced through the many pamphlets and signage we saw condemning the use of Buddha’s image for art or decoration, such as for tattoos, statues in gardens, and perhaps worst of all, on carpeting (feet are considered dirty and one is never to point the bottom of their foot - let alone step on - the image of the Buddha).

My favorite thing about Chiang Mai was the food - we discovered several excellent vegetarian restaurants that made these two black bean-loving, salad-munching, quinoa-eating travelers very happy following several weeks of spring rolls and white rice. The best place was Morning Glory, where we had incredibly cheap dishes (many for under $1), and the endless entertainment of the owners’ daughter, Opal, who practiced her English (which was quite good) with all the diners, asking where we were from and finding it on the giant map of the world that adorned the wall. Oh wait, my other favorite thing about Chiang Mai was running into my old college friend, Maura, on the street.

From Chiang Mai, we spent a few days in Pai, Thailand - a small mountain town with a growing reputation on the travel circuit. It was extremely dry and not very green when we were there, which left us wanting a bit. We circled back to Chiang Mai, and began the long, 24hour+ journey to Cambodia, marking the completion of our first month in SE Asia.

If I sound lackluster about Northern Thailand, it’s probably because I am :) It’s a fun challenge figuring out where to go, what to do, and how to make decisions using your own intuition, interests, and recommendations. I didn’t have a bad time, and I enjoyed myself, but I probably wouldn’t regret not going had I known what I know now. Live and learn!

From the Gulf of Thailand to the Andaman Sea - Surat Thani --> Krabi --> Koh Lanta

katiestoner — Mon, 2 Mar 2015 21:42:00 GMT

When we finally managed to tear ourselves away from the beauty and relaxation of Koh Tao, we found ourselves boarding a night boat. The night boat - whose primary purpose is to haul cargo, but is now equipped to sleep about 80 or so passengers lined up like sardines in a can on little mats for sleeping - would cruise slowly across the Gulf of Thailand’s inky, calm waters, to the mainland at Surat Thani. I had the sense that we were most likely finished with the most comfortable, “beaten track” part of the trip. I’ve never slept on a boat, much less on a tiny pad lined up on the floor in between dozens of other travelers. When I say travelers, I mean Thai people, too. Strangely (in my mind), all the foreigners were relegated to one side of the boat, with the Thais on the other. The ride itself was pretty unremarkable, except for one older gentlemen who I continued to notice as he moved about the cabin, trying to find a spot, get settled, who knows what. With hair and a face reminiscent of Gandalf, he was by far the oldest person on the boat, and I couldn’t help but giggle at his outfit, which involved a lot of shirt, tucked into a lot of underwear.

We quickly began referring to travel through Thailand as “the shuffle.” It’s great that it’s easy and relatively cheap to travel this country by bus, train, and boat, but the companies that run these operations seem to have little to no clue about order and efficiency. “You go there,” “come with me,” “wait here,” oy vey. We never had any issues with actually getting to where we wanted to go. It just seemed as though they were taking us on the most circuitous, senseless path to do so. At 4:30am, we found ourselves at the travel agency, drinking Nescafe (instant coffee), and waiting around with several other travelers for our bus to Krabi, and groggily chatting with Gandalf, aka Dr. Ewald Rumph. This turned out to be the highlight of this journey for me, as we we able to enjoy a really nice conversation with this sweet, gentle man who inspired me with his fortitude - traveling throughout Asia on his own at what must be a fairly advanced age. Ewald, a sculpture, professor of psychology, and staunch proponent of peace and equality, shared with us a bit about his life (which he splits between Germany and Nice, Italy), while asking us about ours. As we talked U.S. and world politics, as well as the major humanitarian crises of the day, he emphasized the importance of discussing these topics, to chew on them together, to keep them in the forefront of our collective consciences. I so appreciated this, because even at a relatively young age, I sometimes find myself feeling cynical and jaded, thinking, “what could I say or do that hasn’t already been said or done?” What’s the point in talking about how much injustice, unfairness, corruption, sorrow, tragedy, and suffering the people of the world are dealing with? This lovely wizard of a man, with an old-school and artsy intellect, confidently traveling solo throughout Asia, gave me an important reminder that we must continue to work towards what we believe is right and good. He made sure to give us his card, so that we could visit should we ever find ourselves in Germany or Italy.

We used Krabi, a smallish city on the southeastern Andaman coast of Thailand, as a stepping stone between Koh Tao, and our next island adventure, Koh Lanta. Minimally invaded by tourists, Krabi was a nice spot to spend a day. After the islandy treat that was Koh Tao, both Evan and I felt that we needed a little grounding, a dose of daily living. There were tourists floating around here and there, but it was mostly local people, going about their days. We marveled at the families of 3,4,5 people crammed onto motorbikes, particularly the little ones perched precariously on tiny bamboo stools wedged into the space between the driver and the handlebars. A flash of judgement arose quickly, but upon further examination I thought, “this is the way of life here, what other options are available?” Most people cannot afford a car, and as we all know, life often revolves around schlepping yourself, your family, and your possessions from point a to point b. We enjoyed hearing the cries and squeals of children emanating from the open-air schools as we walked down the sidewalks, baking in the afternoon sun, wondering how on earth these youngsters could manage to play soccer so merrily in the oppressive heat. In front of the schools, there were dozens of posters and signs prominently displaying photos of students smiling and posing with trophies and medals for various academic, artistic, and athletic achievements. I could see clearly that there is a great deal of pride involved in student’s successes at these schools, and on a very individual level.

Later that evening, we enjoyed strolling through the bustling night market, which was full of vendors selling polyester dresses, SpongeBob Squarepants cellphone cases, and every kind of food imaginable (especially a glut of unidentifiable neon jelly drinks/candies/substances; this seems to be a favorite in Thailand). We sat at a small table set up on a blacktop in front of a nice stage with good sound and fun lighting, listening for a bit to two young guys playing acoustic guitar and singing covers of American songs from the 90’s, like, “Wonderwall,” by Oasis. They were very good and entertaining - I got a huge kick out of hearing songs like Wonderwall sung with a Thai accent. What I liked most was just seeing townspeople out and about, being together, and being there with them. It felt like a very tight-knit community, and the nightly markets are no doubt a contributor to this. It has a similar vibe to gatherings that take place a few times/year in Ithaca, but it’s a much more frequent occurrence. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to create so much more back at home. This lovely phenomenon is a nice example of “placemaking.”

We made our way to Koh Lanta the following day, for more beachy, ocean adventures. Koh Lanta is an island where I felt like I could easily just be. We stationed ourselves at the southern end of the island (Kantiang Bay) so that we would be well-positioned to access the top diving sites of Hin Muang and Hin Daeng. I didn’t feel suffocated by tourists or by locals trying to sell me stuff, and I didn’t feel overwhelmed by stimulus, as I sometimes did on Koh Tao. As much as our bungalow at Simply Life was kind of “bungy,” I actually loved living there; it took between 30 seconds and three minutes to walk everywhere - including the beach. I felt a little bit less like a tourist and more like a temporary resident, visiting the same shops, frequenting the Drunken Sailor - a wonderful restaurant, waving to the same business owners on the beach, and enjoying beers and music at the Why Not bar almost nightly.

The visit here was still very active for us, as we spent the better part of three days out on the ocean, at times in some pretty choppy waters. This resulted in some manageable seasickness in addition to some very sound sleeping at night. In Koh Lanta, we enjoyed what has been so far, the best scuba diving I have experienced; I’m so glad we got the chance to dive on the Andaman side of Thailand. The sites were stunning, and I had the opportunity to explore completely new ecosystems. I’m not a huge fan of judging dives, ranking one above another - it’s as though we expect the ocean and the animals to perform for us, to put on a good show, as if it’s somehow about us! No, I love every dive I get to do, because it’s an incredible gift to visit these worlds, worlds that we are truly just visitors to. However, the actual conditions, experience, and biodiversity were notably better than on Koh Tao (and many other locations for that matter). It’s very daunting for me to try to describe it, and we do have some decent video, which I will eventually share. What I can say is that we were enveloped by walls of shimmering fish, surrounded by soft, flowery, vibrant corals, and delighted by traffic of marine life appearing before our eyes, all experienced while swimming around giant, rocky pinnacles reaching from the ocean floor to the surface.

One of my favorite aspects of our time in Koh Lanta was the connections we made with people, both foreigners and locals. David and Linda boarded the boat to Hin Muang and Hin Daeng with us, with their 9 month old babe, Cere, in tow. Though I was a little skeptical, she did amazingly on the boat (as did her parents), and I enjoyed playing with her and talking with her parents about their lives in Lanta and back home in Sweden. They had been on Koh Lanta for almost three months, made possible by their one and a half years of PAID maternity AND paternity leave. They had a similar opportunity when their 3 year old daughter was born, and they clearly feel so passionate about being parents and being together as a family, especially during the early months of their children’s lives. David and I talked at length on the ride back about what it is like to have that right (I believe it should be a right to take time off to be with your children, distinct from it being a privilege, which it often is in the U.S.). What it’s like to live in a country whose politics truly favor family over other virtues like productivity. The people in power in the U.S. promulgating family values are often the same people flinging hateful bigotry all over the place, standing in the way of new families developing and tearing families apart. Telling women and every company in America that they know better when it comes to family planning and reproductive health. Standing in the way of gender equality, equal pay, and other important measures that would truly support families. Of course, the U.S. is a much different place than Sweden, but we could make a start, and I think that start would be mandatory paid time off for both mothers and fathers. Did you know that U.S. is the only developed nation that does not guarantee paid maternity or paternity leave for its workers? That the UK guarantees 39 weeks of paid leave for mothers, two of which are mandatory. Australia offers 18 weeks. And Mexico, the US’s neighbor to the south, gives mothers 12 weeks of paid leave, reimbursed at 100% of their salary? We clearly have room to improve.

Another special person was, Boy, (everyone called him this), our neighbor at Simply Life who also, in some way, took care of the place and ran parts of the business. We thought maybe his mom owned it. At any rate, he’s well known in the town, and although he’s clearly a social butterfly, very interested in the bigger world, always busy coming and going, he did stick fairly close to home. He was dutiful in his care of the gardens, watering here and there throughout the day, lamenting that it was a big job for just one person. It seemed like he might be the type to dream of living in a big city, occupying a “bigger life,” but I sure enjoyed bantering with him on a daily basis, and he left us with a really positive feeling about our time in Koh Lanta. Maybe that’s because he didn’t treat us like tourists, but really acted as though we were neighbors.

Lastly, a quick acknowledgment of our dive instructor, Stef. She was the most present, thorough, professional, spunky, kind, and fun dive guide I’ve ever had - the type of person I could really trust, and I could really see that she gives her work everything she’s got. I so appreciate guides who actually guide you through a dive - pointing out interesting coral or animals that I might not have seen on my own, teaching me something about animal behavior, and really just helping me to see where I am, to understand, just a tiny bit, what a place is all about. She was a real gem.

Photos: Koh Tao, Thailand

katiestoner — Wed, 18 Feb 2015 23:12:00 GMT

Photos: Bangkok, Thailand

katiestoner — Wed, 18 Feb 2015 23:04:00 GMT

Turtle Island - "I don't need a bag, thanks"

katiestoner — Wed, 18 Feb 2015 22:14:00 GMT

No sooner had we touched down in Bangkok did we hop on an early morning bus headed south for Koh Tao, a small island in the Gulf of Thailand. Koh Tao, also referred to as “Turtle Island,” is 21 square miles and is pretty much exclusively dominated by tourism. Incidentally, it’s an important breeding ground for green and hawksbill turtles, though tourism has negatively impacted the health of these grounds. I was happy to learn that partnerships between the government and local dive schools have led to the release of thousands of juvenile turtles back into these ecosystems.

Koh Tao is situated in a string of islands off the east coast of Thailand, and is comparatively quieter, and geared towards outdoor activities more so than its neighboring party animal of an island, Koh Phangan, and the swanky upscale golf course-strewn island of Koh Samui. We chose to visit this place, out of countless other Thai islands, based on its reputation as a scuba diving mecca. Indeed, from the moment we stepped off the crowded ferry filled with eager tourists ready to party, we were never more than a few steps away from a dive school. Koh Tao claims the most dive schools out of any place in the world (something on the order of 60), and churns out more certifications each year than anywhere else. As such, there are loads of folks stuffing themselves into a wetsuit for the first time and plunging into the clear blue water to see what this scuba thing is all about.

It’s often hit or miss when trying to find a dive center that will be the right “fit” for you. I’ve been, for the most part, really fortunate in diving with companies and people who are professional, friendly, safe, and at least somewhat conscious of the ecosystems we’re exploring and enjoying. I did my research before coming to Koh Tao, and decided that we should work with an outfit called New Heaven, whose mission is focused on marine conservation, carried out through programs like coral nurseries and artificial reefs, sea turtle headstarting, land and underwater clean-ups, research and monitoring of many different species, and so on. Their official slogan is “Our Ocean, Our Responsibility,” and they have signs up warning of fines if anyone brings plastic bags or styrofoam into the shop, the proceeds of which support their sea turtle program. We had some great conversations with Devrim, who runs the school and has lived on Koh Tao for more than 20 years now, originally hailing from London. He’s quietly and passionately devoted to the work, and admitted how challenging it can be, to take the lead in a place with so many economical and environmental complexities. He described a slew of issues that New Heaven has come up against in its efforts to create change and do things differently - issues that sounded strangely familiar to me. It further affirms for me that mission-driven work is subject to similar frustrations and flaws no matter where you are: small-town politics, turf wars, claiming credit for another’s work, lack of interest, misunderstandings, failure to build meaningful relationships, inertia, lack of sustainable funding, shaky collaboration...the list goes on and I know many of you reading this have been there, as I have :) And yet, just like we all do, New Heaven keeps on keepin on, despite being drowned out by the load motors of the big boats and the thumping music from late night parties on the beach. They do their good work not because it’s easy, or because they see sweeping changes regularly, but because they believe in it and understand that we have to protect our oceans. It reminds me of the Vaclav Havel quote, “Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”

Evan and I completed our Advanced Diver certification with New Heaven, and overall it was a great experience - very relaxed, comfortable and fun. This certification isn’t particularly necessary for a diver, but since we are volunteering for a marine conservation program in Indonesia in April, we had to get it. It also provides an opportunity to enhance your underwater skills, which I’m all for. We can now dive deeper, and we picked up some navigation skills, as well as the ability to dive at night. If you ever find yourself in Koh Tao wanting to dive, I highly recommend New Heaven: http://www.newheavendiveschool.com/

What I really want to talk about though, is plastic. By Goddess, there’s a lot of trash in this picture-perfect turquoise water. I recall sitting in one of my favorite lunch spots finishing up a simple, delicious sandwich, watching as as a turtle-necklace-wearing woman requested a plastic bag to take her sandwich home in. Hello! Where do you think all that plastic ends up? What do you think happens to a turtle when it eats a plastic bag? I’m of course being unfair, because she probably disposed of it properly, and it’s not like I never use plastic. But they give out plastic bags and plastic straws here like it’s their job! Possibly my most frequently uttered phrase that week was, "I don't need a bag, thanks." The plastic theme was pretty salient from the very beginning of the trip. The boat ride from the mainland to the island (about 3 hours in total), revealed a calm, glassy gulf peppered with trash (mostly plastic) and I saw not a single sign of any marine life the entire time. I’ve known for a long time now, especially on an intellectual level, that plastic in the ocean is a huge problem (in addition to many other pressures including overfishing, climate change, coral bleaching, etc.). Seeing it, swimming through it, pulling it up from the bottom of a 20 metre dive site, however, made it personal. We visited a small, secluded beach on our first day there, which we presumed would be lovely for snorkeling. We arrived and quickly dubbed it “trash beach,” a place so small and yet so clogged with rubbish that I don’t think we could have cleared it with a full day’s work. We found a laundry basket, filled it with trash, and hauled it up out of there; even that felt like a drop in the proverbial bucket. I mentioned above that New Heaven has a policy of charging 10 baht per plastic bag. I was a bit stunned to see even the dive masters who work there strolling in with plastic bags on a daily basis. It reminded me of how daunting behavior change is - like, maybe one of the hardest things to actually accomplish. It seemed a no brainer that shops should be charging for plastic bags and that reusables should be sold everywhere. But, it’s an ingrained habit here, and I have no doubt it would be met with serious resistance.

Another little vignette on this topic…

I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned it yet, but Koh Tao is a stunningly beautiful island. For all its busy-ness, its drunk party boys and macho scuba dudes, and elephant-pants wearing beach babes, it’s a gorgeous place, and a veritable playground for anyone with a penchant for water, rocks, trees, and flowers. Getting off the main beaches where most of the tourists hang, you can easily discover quieter, more rugged, and much more biologically diverse bays and beaches to play on. The east side of the island is where you’ll find the rocky cliffs and the impossibly high views of the big blue waters, not to mention the snorkeling. We made our way one day to Tanote Bay, which turned out to be one of my favorite places on the island; a beautiful, rocky, wild beach with beautiful reefs and loads of fish, and not too many humans. The first thing I noticed as we walked in were piles of seaweed clogged with plastic in all forms, from tiny bits of blue plastic to plastic bottles to huge hunks of it. Two people (and let me just say, two absolutely beautiful people) were raking the beach, pulling bags and other plastic debris from the water that was washing in to shore, and getting tangled in the mats of seaweed. We quickly joined them, shocked and saddened by the condition of this beautiful spot, and yet so inspired by their ethic and action. “We are just random tourists, but the beaches, the ocean, they belong to us...if we all just do a little bit, it will help!” were some of the words Tom and Julia from Argentina spoke to me as we hauled plastic garbage bags off the beach. These words are simple and poignant, and it made me adore them. It can be really painful for me to witness all of this degradation, destruction, and frankly, stupidity, but when I encounter people like them, it reminds me of the goodness, and the connectivity, and the role of hope (a la Vaclav Havel). They had to leave shortly after the impromptu beach clean-up, “we have our first scuba class at 4 today!” they cried excitedly. I couldn’t have been more thrilled to hug them and send them on their way.

It's All Happening Here - Bangkok

katiestoner — Sun, 15 Feb 2015 14:13:00 GMT

I know you've all been waiting with baited breath for my first "blog" post ;) Well, here I am, reluctantly pulling up a chair to the first real computer I've had access to since I left my cold, little city of Ithaca, NY nearly a month ago. I'm writing from the Royal Guesthouse in Chiang Mai, Thailand, but I'm going to go back over the last few weeks, to share a bit about our journey to date. As many of you have probably hear me say, this adventure has, for a long time, felt really important. Not just, "it's important to me that I travel, " because yes, that sounds really fun, but important in a more global, or even urgent sense. I'm not sure I can articulate it much more than that yet, but I can say that that feeling was very quickly affirmed as we set out. We flew from JFK to Abu Dhabi, and even just being on that flight, being in the Abu Dhabi airport where there were so many people from so many different countries, mothers and fathers shuffling through the chaos with their little ones hanging onto their hands, half dragged through the lines...it was so fresh for me and yet, so familiar. What I mean to say, is that even though 95% of those around us looked and sounded so different from what I'm used to in my daily life, I was keenly aware that we are not that different at all. And I take great comfort in that, especially coming from a country where we seem to make a national sport out of differentiating the other. More than ever, I'm saddened and angered by much our media deride Muslims, making the entire religion of Islam out to be a people of violence and radicalism - a crude rendering to put it lightly.

Anyhow, as we touched down in Bangkok, the capital of Thailand, in the early morning light, I could really feel how far away from home we were, and it felt really good and exciting. As we deplaned and made our way towards customs, the first thing I saw was a giant display of flowers, sort of a composite. On some level, this felt like a little sign, saying something like, "Welcome, Katie, you've come to the right place!" Similarly, upon entering our cab, I noticed an ornamental flag hanging on the rearview mirror that had a Mermaid/Goddess/Dragon figure on it - flowers and Mermaids! As we entered Bangkok proper, flower boxes overflowing with pinks and purples adorned the bridges, welcoming us in to this hot, hazy, hustling city of 8.2 million people, 14,000 of them per square mile. This is on par with NYC, slightly less dense though. Getting through the airport and on the way to our guest house, I couldn't get over the ubiquity of Western culture. Everyone here speaks English, everyone! I guess I knew this on some level, but I started to question why. All the travelers we've met speak at least some English. It's like the common language denominator, but I'm not sure why that is...certainly not because there's so many of us, but perhaps it's because the U.S. wields so much power globally, and if it you want a part of it, you better get in the game...something like that? It's a little embarrassing, too, because it's almost like we're too arrogant and/or lazy to learn other languages. I maintain that making an effort to speak another's language is an important first step (more important than actually getting it right). And I've learned a little Thai - mostly vegetarian phrases to ensure that animals like my beloved squid do not end up in my meals - but man is it hard.

After zipping through the insanity that is Bangkok traffic (women perched side-saddle on the backs of bikes, their boyfriends/husbands weaving in and out around cars, careening through intersections with seemingly no regard for personal safety), we settled into our tiny, simple, comfortable room at the Shanti Lodge. We were in the thick of life, mostly travelers, turtles in fountains, celery/ginger/mint/passionfruit juice for breakfast. This is a place where orchids are so abundant they garnish our $2 breakfast plates. After 36+ hours of traveling, a good meal, shower, and change of clothes, we venture off into the streets. As Evan put it, 'it's all happening here.' And that's right on. As we lament the community-eroding impacts of Euclidian zoning back home (in other words, separation of uses, suburban sprawl, strip malls, etc.), we're now in a world where you can do just about anything, anytime, anwhere. I feel similarly about NYC, but few other U.S. cities measure up. The street vendors - selling everything from grilled bananas to buffalo horns to the knock-off Birkenstocks to the elephant-print shirt/skirt/pants/dress/sarong/hat of the moment. Walking down the street, I'm nearly knocked over the scents swirling around me. Meat frying in a precariously-perched wok at elbow/hip height mixes with toxic fumes wafting from the adjacent nail salon. We sit down for a beer, watching with the delight all the different travelers, backpackers and city-folk going about their days on Khao San Rd. This place is a tourist attraction in its own right. It's backpacker junction really, and I'm glad we only stayed for a moment. We politely declined the street hustlers offering us selfie sticks (the epitome of narcissisum in my opinion), elephant sculptures, and faux Ray Bans.

We wander some more, buy our tickets to Koh Tao (it's amazingly easy), and drink another beer. We wander down a back alley, which is filled with the refuse of restaurants and stores, people crouching to wash bowls and dishes, whose dirty water runs under our sandals. I pass women who are huddled in shadowy corners slicing raw meet with sharp knives, plastic cutting boards balancing on their laps. It is all happening here. We dash into a bank to exchange more USD to Thai baht. Evan is patient with me as I work through my conversions (100 baht is about $3). For him it takes seconds or less. Like my Dad, he has a built-in brain calculator.The bank is a nice one, with professional, uniformed employees (this is in contrast to the little mom and pop currency exchange storefronts we encounter later). I'm struck, however, by the loose, casual, playful atmosphere. There's lots of chatting and giggling and energy - not something I have ever really seen back home; it's all very buttoned up and restrained. As we make our way back to the Shanti Lodge, I'm baffled by the vendors who have emerged to sell vegetables to the post-work crowd heading home for dinner. Baffled because they were practically in the steets, the busy, dirty, congested streets. With the backs to the traffic, they had their goods spread out before them on tiny plots (2, maybe 3 square feet) of sidewalk or curb. I was worried; they seemed unphased. All day I saw little flower garlands being made and sold, and they adorn everything here. I learned the next day that they're called phuang malai (pong ma-lay) and they are part of an important Thai tradition of maknig offerings to spirits and sacred statues.

The following day, we seek out Pak Khlong Talat, Bangkok's largest, oldest, 24-hour flower market. After spending a solid 30 minutes looking for a toilet, I could finally focus on the flowers and take it all in. It was beyond imagination - the sheer abundance was unlike ANYTHING I have ever seen...and I work on a flower farm!!! If yesterday was about food and clothes, then today is for the flowers. Flowers for days, I'm telling you. Many of the stands were devoted to the creation and sale of phuang malai - sellers displayed huge plastic bags filled to the brim with the heads of mostly yellow marigolds, mini red rose buds, purple gomphrena, and fragrant jasmine. I, of course, could not help myself, and took lots of photos, always asking first, and sometimes showing the purveyours pictures of my own flower arranging and experiences back home. I think I wanted to share my flowers (Plenty of Posies flowers often) with people I presumed also loved flowers, wanting to create a connection. There were bushels and piles and heaps of orchids, orchids as if weeds. I purchased a small bouquet with some greens and pretty filler that looked like Sweet Annie, a nice, fragrant plant I know from back home. The couple selling were very gracious, and seemed to like the pictures I shared. They asked Evan if i was his wife, and not really being able to communicate, he smiled sweetly and kissed me on the cheek. These questions would continue by the way - as a man asked us if we were father and daughter the other day, referencing Evan's beard as a sign that he must be old! The orchids - by the way - were 10 baht, or $0.33! As I write this, the heady aroma of jasmine fills the air, coming from the phuan malai I purchased from a diminutive, focused woman working at a card table on the sidewalk. Hers caught my eye, filled with bright pink rosebuds, colorful orchids, gomphrena, and marigold. I gifted te orchids to the man and woman who made our lunch based on my ratchety-Thai request for vegetarian food (no meat!). I would have spent all my money if I had homes for the flowers. The phuang malai was left to the Shanti Lodge, and I hope they liked it.

...this post was a labor of love, my keyboard's delete button didn't work for a while, and at one point, I lost half of what I had written. Please excuse typos :)

Photos: Home

katiestoner — Fri, 16 Jan 2015 05:11:00 GMT