Exorcism needed

Lest there be any doubt that I have been possessed by someone or something this year (for I would never travel the world alone), here is incontrovertible proof: I just went to the mall... on Christmas Eve.

OZ

I flew over the rainbow yesterday, and was so happy to land in Australia. It was a bit rough going at first... I dutifully set my watch alarm for 3:30 am (!) so that I could catch the 4 am shuttle to the airport, as Thai Airways said I need to be there three hours before my flight. I shoved my earplugs in, put a pillow over my head, and went to bed at 8:30. Usually, when I have to wake up early, I sleep very lightly and check my watch constantly. Apparently, I was quite relaxed, for I slept quite soundly until... 4:24. I checked my watch, saw the time, and a deep and disbelieving, "Nooooooooooooooooo..." came out of my mouth as I dashed to the bathroom. I caught the 5 am shuttle, and waited behind one other person in line at the airport, and had an hour to spare still. (THREE hours ahead? What were they thinking??) I walked around trying to see if I could spent my last 16 Baht (about 40 cents) on anything, but no. So I left it for some child to find and be excited about.

The flight was fine, although I think the cabin air or altitude or something got to me. Not only did I watch Beverly Hills Chihuahua, but I actually got teary at parts. Good god, what have come to?? (The second movie, Bottle Shock, was much better. All about wine. But, to my credit, Placido Domingo--or his voice-- was in the first movie, so I can at least pretend in some weird way that it was cultured, although he didn't sing.)

My friend Cate's husband (whom I've never met, and who had no idea what I looked like... just like all the other people I've imposed myself upon this year) collected me from the airport, holding a little piece of paper with my name on it. Hell, I would have gone home with anyone, but was pleased to find him.

I arrived at their house in the middle of a little backyard party that Cate was giving (it was the first day of summer here, remember). Ah, I was in my element! I threw my bags in my room, donned an apron, and started making guacamole. Life was good again.

(Right now I am listening to a sound that I never thought I would be so happy to hear: the deep rumble and squeaky breaks of a garbage truck. Ah, infrastructure, you are a glorious thing.)

I am very much looking forward to three weeks of living a relatively normal life, breathing clean air, not fearing that every mosquito carries some horrible disease, and perhaps even going to the beach (every day). They may talk a bit funny down here, but life is grand in OZ.

One last day

Today is my last day in Thailand, and I am counting my Baht, weighing how much I need to eat vs get another massage. (At these prices, I think I can do both.)

Last night I took the overnight train from Chiang Mai to Bangkok. It wasn't first class Kenyan service, but it wasn't bad. I was tucked up in the upper berth/cocoon, and actually slept. Mind you, all my dreams involved me being on a train, but that is fair.

Chiang Mai was okay. The first day I was there I was not terribly happy. I walked around town with a horrible scowl on my face and a headache developing. I think that my body had just maxed out on the amount of carbon monoxide it could take. I tried breathing as little as I could, so as not to inhale all the exhaust, but that didn't work terribly well. I have a new understanding-- no envy-- for those people who walk around with surgical masks on. So I didn't do too much sightseeing that day.

Day 2 in Chiang Mai was better. It started off at the Women's Prison. No, nothing you need to worry about. They have a little spa at the prison so the women can earn some money for when they are released. So I had a foot massage from a Thai felon. Who knew what adventures this year would bring! From there I wandered into the shopping district and went a little crazy (or so it felt at the time). I was actually feeling giddy at one point (could have been too much CO again) with the crazy low prices of silk. But, remembering that I am not actually EARNING any money this year (and in fact probably rapidly LOSING it, although I haven't seen a newspaper in a while), I tried to curb myself.

As this is my last day here, I will share with you some random impressions that I have about various things. No particular order (and possibly not much sense) to them:

The Thais have a thing about feet. You can't point your feet at anyone, and you need to take your shoes off when you enter a house. This is actually understandable, given how absolutely dirty and disgusting shoes (and feet, because everyone wears sandals) get in this country. But here's the thing... pointing your toes at someone is right out, but it is perfectly acceptable to hock a big loogie on the ground, and today I actually had someone blow snot on the sidewalk in front of me.

As to food, I have eaten some very strange things since I've been here, and I think it is better that I do not actually have any idea what they were. (The other night, when my meal was getting cold and particularly gelatinous, I wondered aloud, "Is this squid?") Once you know what your meal is supposed to be, you have certain expectations. For instance, when eating chocolate chip ice cream (as a special treat for having walked to the train station rather than taking a tuk tuk, and therefore not adding any more CO to the city), you might expect there NOT to be a frozen whole kernel of corn in your ice cream. (No, I didn't eat it. I chucked it over my shoulder onto the ground for the rat that was scurrying about the place.)

Granted, in the States various appliances have odd names, but I saw a toaster the other day that said "Love King" on the side.

I was walking through a particularly large and crazy intersection today (the same one that the bus sat at for 18 minutes last week), and noted that there were policemen standing on the sidewalks waving traffic on, always following the traffic signals. Now which is easier to see... a little man four lanes away, or a brightly illuminated light up in the air? Thai tax dollars at work, I guess.

Part way through a nine hour bus ride, we stopped for lunch. With six hours to go, and no bathroom on the bus, I hoped that my strong stomach remained as such. (It did.)

When you are on a long distance bus journey here, the ticket checker changes about every half hour, and therefore needs to check everyone's tickets again, despite the fact that he (or she) is the only new person on the bus.

Many Thais have, quite sharply, called out to me, "You!" to let me know I need to pay, or roll over, or pick up my meal. It sounds rude, but then I realize that they are making the effort to speak in my language, and all I can say in theirs is "Hello" and "Thank you" (and sometimes I get them mixed up), so I am thankful. (Khawp khun kha. Which for the first week I kept mispronouncing as crap khun kha.)

I have come to realize that I like cities where I am self-sufficient. If I can walk to and from the train or bus station, then I am MUCH happier (and have a better sense of orientation) than if I have to take a taxi of some sort. (Thusly, I walked for an hour and a half from the train station in Bangkok this morning, big pack attached. I will, however, take the shuttle to the airport at 4:00 tomorrow morning. Groan.)

I think that's it for this country/continent. Off to Australia tomorrow, to relax with someone I know, UNPACK, and find out what Christmas is like Down Under. (And, hopefully, to upload about a zillion pictures!)

Trekking

As soon as I got to the guest house in Chiang Rai the other day, possibly before I even checked into my room, I asked about doing a trek. All I wanted was to get out into nature for a few days. The owner had a friend who ran a trekking company, and he appeared five minutes later and signed me up for a trek the next morning. So at 10 am yesterday, I was ready to hit the trails.

There were two other people on my trek: a couple of guys (probably late 20s) from the Czech Republic. (They had enough English that we could talk a bit, although they did do a lot of nodding and smiling.) The first stop on the trek was a longboat ride up the Mae Kok (which, alas, is not pronounced 'my cock') River. There were some other people on this boat ride, and one woman asked me if I was going to the village. I thought for a moment and told her I honestly had no idea WHERE I was headed. I was just going, and hoping for the best.

The boat deposited us at an Elephant Camp, where a small herd of elephants were all saddled up waiting to take people for little rides. This is not something I would have chosen to do, but apparently I had already paid for it, so off I went for my 20 minute ride. It was pretty bumpy. Not much else I can say about it, except that at one point we seemed to be stuck in an elephant traffic jam. I think the elephant in front got distracted by some bananas or something. After the ride the guide told us we had and hour to explore the village. "Village" in this case translates to "series of shops selling trinkets and shawls to tourists".

From there we headed into the jungle. It was nice to be out walking through the bamboo forest... until we started to go uphill. Those nice quads I'd developed over the last 4 years of ballet are officially gone, as are all the other muscles I had, and any cardio stamina. I am, I think, becoming an old lady. Sigh.....

We spent the night with the Lahu Hill Tribe in their village. We hiked all the way up there (garbage strewn all around the path, which was quite distressing to me... guess they don't know about Pack In, Pack Out), and of course there's a road that they all drive their motorcycles up. I walked around a bit (and saw a child's dirty bottom being wiped with sticks), and noted that every house had a solar panel. (Yeah! Although it ran out at about 8 pm.) We stayed in a bamboo house. All the houses were made from bamboo. All bamboo. The main beams are small logs from some tree, and the roof is grass, but everything else is bamboo. And not thick bamboo. You can see through the walls and floor (which was a bit bouncy in parts). I believe the livestock (cattle, pigs, chickens, and loads of dogs, which I assume are pets put possibly not) live underneath the house. Anyone who tries to tell me that a rooster crows with the rising sun has obviously not slept with only a 1/4 inch thick piece of bamboo between him and said rooster.

This morning we set off into the jungle again. At one point the path forked and we went to the left. A few minutes later the guide stopped, thought, did some math, and said we would go back to the other path, because the one we were on would take four hours and the other three. So back we went. The other path got a bit small at one point, and guide stopped to rifle around in his backpack. I assumed he was looking for a map. Silly me. He was getting out his knife so he could bushwhack. What had been a small path turned to no path, and we bushwhacked our way up the side of a mountain. For some reason the words "A three hour tour... a three hour tour" kept going through my head. Eventually we did find the path at the top (which I was quite pleased about, because it was very steep going up, and I would not have liked to bushwhack DOWN!).

We stopped at a lovely waterfall for lunch, walked through another hill tribe, and eventually ended up at a hot spring. I'd never been to a hot spring before, but it sounded nice. It looked nice too. But it certainly did not smell nice. There was a little sign for the "boiling egg bath" (a gimmick for the tourists that they could cook eggs in this water). I thought that was terribly appropriate, because that is exactly what this sulphur spring smelled like. I was good for about 5 minutes in the water. (For me water is meant to be cooling, not cooking!) Then the guide said we weren't being picked up until 5 (at this point it was about 3). Ugh.

The driver did not actually pick us up until 6:30. In the interim the guide bought some hideously noxious stuff that he called local whiskey. I probably could have managed the rice based alcohol, but the stuff looked like Kool Aid, and I think they might have actually mixed some nasty, sugary, hot pink stuff in with it. Oh, it was awful. I was actually considering washing it down with some of the Czech's slibovisk (or whatever it was called... plum based booze). But I really had about had it, and was absolutely willing the driver to appear, when three self-proclaimed hippies arrived and started promptly offering us pot, and then rolling themselves some joints. That is SOOOOOOOO not my thing! Thank goodness, just as they were lighting up, the driver appeared, and I made a mad dash for the van.

The ride home had me chuckling, for there was a DVD playing. I saw the last half hour of Live Free or Die Hard, dubbed into Thai. I don't think you've really lived until you've seen Kevin Smith speaking Thai. Loved it!

Trekking was good, the long, hot shower was good, and I'm sure my bed this evening will be good too. Tomorrow I'm off to Chiang Mai (which I hear is just like Bangkok, so I'm not holding my breath about it... or maybe I will be because of all the exhaust).

(Just a few more days until Australia!!!!)

Traveling Alone

When I tell people that I am traveling alone this year their responses fall into one of two categories: The "You're so BRAVE" category, and the "You'll meet LOADS of people and find folks to travel with" category. To both, I say that is a load of bosh.

Traveling is easy when people go ridiculously out of their way to make sure you have what you need and know where you are going, even if you are pantomiming to each other. I have yet to go hungry or have to sleep on the street. (I also have yet to let the Lonely Planet guide to Thailand out of my sweaty grip.)

As to finding traveling companions, I have this to say. If you are reading this blog, chances are good that we are friends (although who knows how great my following has become!). But, if you think about the formation of that friendship, I would hazard a guess that we did not become what one would call "fast friends" (with the possible exception of my best friend's wife, but if we hadn't become fast friends, one of the two of us would have been one male shorter in our lives, so it worked out beautifully that I instantly adored her). I take quite a while to decide if I like someone or not. Actually, that is a big fat lie. I decide about 15 seconds after someone opens their mouth if I DON'T like them (so if we have not met yet, but you are thinking we might one day, you might want to seriously think about your opening sentence). But to become friends with a person I need quite a while. (Mind you, once you are in, you're in.)

I have been in Thailand for a week or so now, and I can conclusively say that I have met no one I care to speak with again. I thought that perhaps this was my fault, that I wasn't being outgoing enough, that perhaps I give off a certain "Don't mess with me... or even talk to me" vibe. So with that in mind, when I arrived here (where AM I??? Chiang Rai, I think) this evening and saw that there was a little courtyard and bar, I went outside and ordered myself a drink (alas, no Smirnoff Ice here, so I had to make due with a Bacardi Breezer), and forced myself to chat with the older man who was sitting out there (turned out to be German, so I tried out some LucieDeutsch on him, but, not surprisingly, we quickly switched to English). Later an older American man joined us. I nodded and smiled and held my breath as they puffed away on cigarettes and cigars, and had a fake smile plastered on my face as they both talked about how they liked to smoke a joint every day, and oh, I could buy some tomorrow if I wanted when I'm trekking in the hills. All the while I am thinking this, "How can I quickly and politely extract myself from this hellacious conversation and go to my room to read my book?"

So I don't think it's me. I am, of course, perfect. It's all the other travellers. The young guy in Bangkok talking about meeting the massage lady after work (midnight) and spending the night out drinking... The guy my age talking about how many machetes he has bought in various countries... And now the older pot smokers. Obviously the problem is that single men travelling in Thailand are all here for questionable (to me) reasons. Where are my people??? The people I would like, of course, are sitting in THEIR rooms reading books.

I have to say that meeting different people every night is feeling like two weeks of first dates. And honestly, I'm not that big a fan of dating....

Central Thailand

Here I am, somewhere in central Thailand. Sukhothai, I think. It is Sunday, and I am spending it the way one (who, much to her father's chagrin, does not go to church... but I would be hard-pressed to find one around here anyway) should spend a Sunday... having a lovely big breakfast, and then being completely idle. I picked up The Sex Lives of Cannibals (recommended by a friend when he found I'd be going to Fiji) yesterday, and have spent the day reading (and loving!) it... when I'm not napping.

But to recap the last couple of days...

I believe I forgot to recount the facial that I had when I was still in Bangkok. Yes, another $6 well spent. I've only ever had one facial before (a gift from a parent who was a dermatologist), and it was a mini facial, so I don't really know how these things work. In Thailand, apparently, it involves rubbing lots and lots of lotion onto your face for a long, long time. Not bad. That wiped off, some orange, I believe, was smeared around. (Not orange goop, an actual orange wedge, leaving bits of pulp all over.) After that, something came dribbling onto my forehead which felt like honey. As that got smeared around, I smelled that it was indeed honey. A few steps later, cucumber slices were placed all over my face. At this point I was getting actively hungry, and wondered if they weren't working in conjunction with a nearby restaurant to get people to go!

Back to the north... After I wrote my last post, I wandered around Phitsanulok for a while. I had decided to check out the Night Market down by the river, then stop in at an actual restaurant (which would be my first, not including the ones that my aunt's friends took me to), and for dessert (!) go to the little establishment which was called "It's a Cake", which looked awfully good. I'm not sure what I was expecting from the Night Market exactly. I suppose a Farmer's Market at night. Well, it was really just a strip of shops that were open from 5 pm to 3 am. I wandered a bit, and when a little woman said "Thai Massage??" to me, I acquiesced. It cost 100 Baht. For those who haven't figured out the exchange rate yet, that would be three dollars. For an hour long massage. Sure, I was basically lying on a mat on the sidewalk. Yes, at one point her runny nose did drip a bit on my wrist. And no, she didn't stop watching TV the whole time (but those where her Stories, so how could I expect her to not follow them??). But three dollars is three dollars, and it was good.

I checked out a restaurant or two, and then was drawn back to the street vendors by the almost intoxicating aroma of sweet corn. Oh, sweet, sweet corn (not like the horrid maize that they have in Kenya). And some Pad Thai that was fantastic. But rest assured, I did go to It's a Cake, and purchased a slice of chocolate almond something. Those of you who know me well (which most of you ought to by now, having had this lovely little glimpse into my psyche) will not be at all surprised to read that as I walked up the stairs to my room with this treasure, I did, out loud, proclaim my love for it. (And yes, I went back there for some apple crumble for breakfast the next day before heading off.)

From Phitsanulok I took an hour-long bus ride to here, Sukhothai. I had already decided that I would spent two nights here, because there were so many things to do and see in the area. I checked in to this nice little guest house, which has a restaurant, a computer, nice rooms, and a nice garden, and decided that I didn't need to see any of those things at all. I would just relax until I didn't feel like relaxing any more. (Hard to imagine that I would need to relax, given all the stress that is NOT in my life right now, but I had, for some inexplicable reason, had a dream about writing progress reports (!!!!) the night before, but even in my dream I was completely unworried that others had already had their reports checked and returned, and I hadn't even started writing mine. In fact, I couldn't really think of my kids' names...) By the way, on the back of the menu here are photos of all the people who work at the guest house, along with their names and titles. My favorite is the "Manager of Textile Purification." I don't know if that is done tongue in cheek, or if it is a translation issue. Either way, it makes me happy.

I did eventually motivate a bit yesterday, and I got the bus (loose term) down to the Old City of Sukhothai (which used to be the capital of Thailand, or the region, or province or something... I've read it a zillion times in the guide book, but obviously not cared enough to internalize it), which is now a bunch of ruins. I have to say, I did very much enjoy walking around it. I didn't walk far, for I was not on a quest to see all the ruins (there are LOTS spread over a large area). I just enjoyed the fact that it was tranquil there. I could actually hear birds and insects, and for just a moment, I could hear no cars or motorcycles in the background. It was lovely. (There had been one moment previously on my trip when I was walking around Bangkok when the lights had changed or something, and there suddenly wasn't a drone of traffic next to me. I hadn't realized how loud it was until then. The constant ringing in my ears in bed at night should have been a hint, though.) I sat on some ruins and just listened and watched. There was a group of birds near by... egrets, or herons, or possibly dodos (I'm not so good with bird identification), and I watched them. In walking around the ruins, though, I did feel like I ought to have had binoculars attached to me, and I should have been hunting for monkeys. (For any Earthwatchers reading this, there was loads of TI, but not a monkey in sight to ING the RF.) It was all very pleasant, except for the gnats which perpetually flew right into my eyes.

I caught the bus back home (almost dying from exhaust inhalation... I still don't feel like I've had a clean breath of air for a while), and did a little straw poll of the vehicles we passed on the other side of the road, for I noticed there were many trucks. In my ever so official sampling of 25 autos, the truck to car ratio was 4 to 1. But the motorcycle to auto ratio was 2:1. Translation: It's loud here.

Tomorrow I head for the hills. I probably should go rest up before the big journey...

NOT Bangkok

I flew the coop yesterday, and boarded a train out of Bangkok. I went a couple hours north to Lop Buri, a sweet little town filled with ruins of old temples (and monkeys). I wandered around a bit, so happy to have some relative peace and quiet. Yes, at one point last night I finally focused on the fact that the music I could hear wafting in my window was actually Christmas carols. There is something inherently WRONG (in my opinion) about hearing Frosty the Snowman in Thailand.

The hotel last night was great... I had a bathroom en suite, AND a TV. When I turned it on and heard American voices, I literally did a little dance and sang "It's in English! It's in English!" My joy quickly dissipated when the picture came on and I discovered that it was Fox News... the morning show at that! I managed about three minutes, and then I couldn't stomach it anymore. No TV is WAY better than that TV!

Today I took the train further north to a large town called Phitsanulok (I think). I settled myself into a corner room with a king sized bed (for $6 a night), and then started wandering around town. After finding Thai Airways to confirm my flight to Australia, I headed to a folk museum. (It has some long name like General Somebody's Thai Folk Museum.) It sold itself as a museum of tools and daily objects. Sounded right up my alley. I smiled the whole time I was in there. I giggled when I saw the display of various mouse traps. (NOT like ours at all.) I enjoyed the fish and porcupine traps. I started wondering if I couldn't volunteer my services to retranslate all of their English signs into slightly more fluent English. Just when I thought the museum couldn't get any better, I came across a display showing how to castrate a bull. I had to copy down Step 6 so I could share it with you.

"The specialist turns the fork of sticks [which have the testes between them] at the top of the ham. After that uses the hammer hit at the testicles until was broken."

Guys, broken out in a sweat yet? Ladies, trying to figure out exactly how it was done?

More later, I'm sure...