Tongue Twisters

While I was in Chiang Mai, Thailand in 2009 I did a quick little Thai cooking course. The only participants were me and a German couple. On the ride back to town the woman asked me to write down a couple English tongue twisters for her. She collects tongue twisters in foreign languages. I thought this was fun so I got her to write down some German ones for me too:

Blaukraut bleibt Blaukraut und Brautkleid bleibt Brautkleid.

Blue cabbage remains blue cabbage, and the bride's dress remains bride's dress.

Fischer's Fritz fischt frische Fische,
frische Fische fischt Frischer's Fritz.

Fischer's boy Fritz fishes for fresh fish, fresh fish fishes Fischer's boy Fritz.


Now, tongue twisters are a lot of fun to play with in ESL classes. I dazzle them with selling seashells and baffle them with Betty Botter. This summer I asked some of my teenage international students to share tongue twisters in their language. They aren't usually allowed to make a peep in their own language but I thought this was an OK exception since the other students got to learn a little bit about other languages and cultures. They seemed to enjoy themselves. Here's what I got:

(Catalan) Setʒe jutges d'un jutjat menjen fetge d'un penjat.

Sixteen judges of one courthouse eat the liver of a hanged man. Or something like that.

(Catalan) El pinxo li va dir al ponxo vob que et punxi amb un punxo? I el ponxo li va dir al pinxo que si pero que a la ponxa no!

I didn't get a translation for this one. A translating website is saying something about a bully and a raincoat pricking and punching each other. I don't think I trust it.

(Spanish-Spain) El perro de San Roque no tiene rabo porque Ramon Ramirez sela ha robado.

The dog of San Roque doesn't have a tail because Ramon Ramirez stole it.

(Spanish-Spain) Si Pancha plancha cuatro panchas, cuantas panchas a planchado Pancha?

If Pancha irons four "panchas," how many "panchas" did Pancha iron. I couldn't figure out what "panchas" are.

(Spanish-Mexico) Pepe Pecas pica papas con un pico Pepe Pecas pica papas.

Pepe Freckles chops potatoes with a spade Pepe Freckles chops potatoes. Or something like that.

(Japanese, transliterated) Tonari no kyaku wa yoku kakikuu kyaku da.

Roughly: My neighbour's guest is a guest who eats lots of persimmons.


I could just go to this page, and I have, but it's more fun to share them in person. Please forgive my inaccurate translations and interpretations.

Getting to Laos (Chiang Khong, Huay Xai)

I think it was in Laos that I began having real adventures. Thailand felt like just hanging out most of the time, less frantic sightseeing, and Malaysia-Singapore were real culture vulture times. Laos was a lot of how I imagined, and wanted, travelling on my own in SE Asia to be.

We (two friends from Pai were going to Luang Prabang) took a van from Pai to Chiang Khong on the border. The road between Mae Hong Son and Chiang Mai is infamous for being very winding, and I learned that the second half out of Pai is the worst. The van was comfortable enough and the driver wasn’t nuts (a rare luxury) but I got seriously nauseous for the first time of my life. At a "rest stop" (slap up shack with toilet facilities and roadside snacks) I ran to puke into an outhouse-style squatter, desperately trying not to touch anything or put my face too close. After some ginger tea I had a very pleasant remainder of the ride. We stayed the night in Chiang Khong. I had mediocre eggs and toast listening to the Eagles overlooking the Mekong ("We may lose and we may win/But we will never be here again/So open up I'm climbing in/And take it eeeeeeasayyyy"). This sighting excited me. I’d just finished reading a book by a guy who travelled the Mekong from Tibet to Vietnam. Other than that association, and I guess Vietnam war movies, it would have just been another river.

This was an organised tourist run to Laos but the facilitators weren't very informative and I felt herded. This package deal was geared largely towards those taking the classic slow boat down to Luang Prabang. I heard more about these trips later and some had a totally rad time partying and that it was neat staying in a ramshackle village at the halfway point. It’s a well-beaten tourist trail and you can meet fun people and all that good stuff. That wasn’t my route though. I was getting a van North. So because I wasn’t doing the “usual” thing, I felt even more lost and uninformed. You just sort of wait until you're told to go stand somewhere or climb into some form of transport, and you have to be keen that they know where you need to go cuz mistakes get made (especially if you're the only one going a different way). The international border crossing at Chiang Khong/Huay Xai is as follows: you are motor boated across the river, you fill in two different forms and hand them in to folks in some old buildings on a sandy bank along with 50 USD and a passport photo, you wait about 10 minutes and they hand you your passport, (if I remember correctly) you show the passport to someone else and get some stamp or other, then you show it to someone else and they check that you have the stamp and give you another. It was all pretty easy once explained, but it felt confused and arbitrary.

I want to interject an observation here. When I was in Malaysia there was some confusion floating around about Thai visas. The regulations had recently changed so that people entering Thailand by land were granted 15 days visa-free, while if you arrived by plane, you were granted 30 days. But every place you looked online and every person you asked told a varying story. Some said you had to get a Thai visa ahead of time. I was in a book store in Georgetown and I noticed the owner happened to be in the visa arranging business. I asked him what I needed to get into Thailand and of course he said I needed a visa. Someone I met in Melaka was tied in a knot trying to figure out how to get a Thai visa, but I think he wanted to stay for a few months. I was in a sweat when I arrived at Bangkok immigration because I didn’t know if they were going to send me back or something. No problems. I nervously asked the officer how long I could stay sure enough it was 30 days.

There was almost equal confusion about Lao visas, or at least from what I’d read Laos was known to close borders and change regulations at a moment’s notice. Some said again that you had to arrange a visa ahead of time. Cambodia was straight-forward (visa on arrival) as was Vietnam (pre-arranged visa). As long as you do a bit of homework beforehand you’ll be fine. It’s important not to get bogged down by the rumour mill. Equally, don’t get bogged down by rumours of dangerous areas or even official assessments given by websites like the Canadian travel advisory people. You’ll wind up missing out on cool places I think. I feel like I did because I planned my trip to skirt around sensitive areas. All that means though is that I won’t make that same judgment the next time around.

I finally got into a van with a couple other people to drive a couple hours up to Luang NamTha. The van trip from Huay Xai was very nice though. Mountains, valleys, forest, rivers. A little scarring from slash-and-burn, many stilt-house villages of bamboo, rattan, thatch, wood, but not usually within sight of each other. Always animals around: chickens, dogs, cows, water buffalo. A group of cows was crossing the road right in front of us and one of the cows was trying to mount another. The road was usually terrible, shifted under landslides, pot holes, parts scraped up for paving, plain gravel.

We were dropped off, from my perspective, in the middle of no where. The majority of Luang Nam Tha is along a single road. I managed to find some landmarks that were on the Lonely Planet map and found a lovely guesthouse, though more expensive than I'd have liked. The place was worth the asking price but I would have chosen less and for less money given the option. It was probably the middle of the afternoon when I arrived but I just crashed.

Battle of Daejeon

The following is a transcription of the plaques at a monument for the Battle of Daejeon on Bomun Mountain in Daejeon, South Korea.

"Summary of Daejon Battle

Behold this place is where United Nations troops, having come to a distant foreign land, faced the enemy and fought, waving the United Nations flag. They have departed, but their achievement will ever shine brightly here.

The Red Hored [sic] which started the war on June 25, 1950, swept like a tide over this land and dyed it red. At that time those apostles of peace, the United States 24^th Infantry Division, were the first to enter the war in order to protect South Korea. Major General William F. Dean, commanding officer of the 24^th Infantry Division, established his operations headquarters at Daejon and set up a delaying action to slow the advance southward of the North Korean troops, pending the arrival of the main force of the United States Eighth Army. The first line of defense for the delaying action was planned for Pyungtaek-ansong, a second line of defense for Charyong mountains at the vicinity of the Chonan area, and a third line of defense was planned for the Keum River. But Smith Company of the 24^th Infantry Division was defeated by the North Korean troops at Jookmiryong which was spearheaded by tanks, pushed southward like an angry tide, and on July 16^th the Keum River defense line was broken, Then the 24^th Infantry Division set up the final defense positions at Daejon and made preparations for pushing back the enemy advance. Seeing this, the North Koreans boasted “If we just capture Daejon, the resistance of the Republic of Korea Army and the United Nations troops will collapse.” As they spearheaded their attack with the elite 105^th Tank Division, flanked on either side by the 3^rd and 4^th Infantry Divisions, our soldiers engaged the enemy in bloody battle.

In particular, Major General Dean, commander of the 24^th Infantry Division, stood in the front lines leading the United Nations troops, and when the North Korean tanks entered Daejon city limits, he fired a 3.5-inch rocket gun and personally knocked out a North Korean tank, thus giving a boost to the drooping spirits of his troops. But it was not possible to stop the North Koreans with their superior strength in numbers. On July 20^th the United States 24^th Infantry Division at last withdrew from Daejon, retreated to the Nakdong River and prepared for a rally. By means of this battle in Daejon, the Division rendered great service toward the establishment of a firm battle line, and in two days of fighting it achieved the military results of many hundreds of enemy soldiers killed, and 15 tanks and 21 cannons destroyed. On the other hand, the 24^th Infantry Division suffered the largest number of high-ranking officers lost since the Civil War, and its commander Major General Dean., after breaking out of the encirclement, retreated south toward Keumsan, but met with the misfortune of becoming missing in action.

However, with the success of General MacArthur’s strategy in the historical Inchon Landing, the South Korean and United Nations troops defending the Nakdong River battle line together initiated a general offensive. Then the 24^th Infantry Division, seeking revenge for its earlier bitter defeat, rushed into the vanguard and crushed the enemy force defending Daejon. So, on September 28^th our lovely Daejon was recaptured, the tide of freedom again overflowed her broad plain, and it was almost as though the hills and streams were shouting, “Long live Korea!” Now the sound of gunfire has ceased, pigeons are on the wing, and the wild flowers bloom beautifully on this hill where we are erecting this monument to preserve for ever the record of the comradeship of the 24^th Infantry Division in its bloodbought [sic] military achievement. The United States 24^th Infantry Division—its name shall shine gloriously for a thousand years!

December, 1981"

"Monument Inscription

On this bright hill where freedom’s sunlight shines, this monument to glory stands sublime.

On June 25, 1950
The day the Red Horde
Swept down like an angry tide
You, the United States 24^th Infantry Division,
Lifting high the United Nations flag,
Came to our defense in the name of freedom,
Fighting to the death on Daejon’s broad plain.
Your blood, indeed, was shed upon this ground,
But still reverberates the battle cry you raised.

Apostles of freedom,
Standard-bearers for peace,
Upon the hearts of our countrymen
Your name is deeply engraved!"

Turning Point (Soppong, Pai)

The bus was a shaky deal with open windows and doors to let in the smoke and heat from the roadside bush fires. All over Thailand and Laos they were slashing and burning new fields. It made a sort of permanent haze everywhere. I arrived in the dusty town of Soppong and hired a moto to drive me the 9km to where I wanted to stay. This was the first time on the trip I feared for my life (it would happen only once more in Saigon). I had my 20kg or so ruck on my back and he had my smaller pack on his lap. He was going at maniac speed and the road was big enough for one car really, only partially paved, and full of pot holes. Trucks and motos of all sizes came hurtling at us from both directions and I tried my best not to visaulize how painful it was going to be when I hit the ground with or without a moto on top of me.

But I survived. The place I stayed was called Cave Lodge, in a Shan village called Ban Tham Lod. The area is notable for its various caves and some prehistoric sites. There are, as everywhere in Northern Thailand, a number of different minority villages around. Tham Lod is also about 5km from the Burmese border. It's run by an Australian fellow, John, and his Shan wife. He's a caver and general adventurist. He's been living in the area for decades and has been running the lodge for about 20 years. Built it himself. It's a collection of bungalows around a bigger house (common area, kitchen, his house, dorm room, etc.). It's up on a riverbank and close to a cave that the river runs through; the town's namesake Tham Lod.

I was met by a cheerful crowd in the common area. There's a fire pit, hammocks, cushions, books, shrine, incredible pictures John has taken over the years of caves and people. The few days I spent there, there was a neat feel of people moving in and out, coming and going. Everyone was quite sociable and chilled out. There was a group from Yorkshire: an older couple and their daughter and son-in-law, a really fun Australian couple. These were all here for the caving. They werent professionals but knew what they were doing. There was an English couple who were on my same flight to Mae Hong Son and I'd see them again in Pai. There was a fellow, Alex, from Costa Rica but had been living in the US for a long time. He had been traveling in Myanmar and while there he consumed a hallucinogenic secretion from a frog (ie. "licked" a toad). On that trip he had a vision of his childhood invisible friend, a gorilla, and he had plans to have a tattoo done of said gorilla. There was a pair of strapping young gentlemen, English and Russo-American who did tai chi in the common room. I had originally thought they were studying some martial art in Chiang Mai but it turns out they lived in Pai. More on that storyline shortly.

While I was there I lazed around, reading, I went on a little walk around the area by myself, I went on a little tour with Alex. We rode out to see a "coffin cave," of which there are several in the area. It was just a cave with a couple remaining prehistoric wooden (!!!) big trough-like things that used to be elevated on stilts where they would lay the dead. I'm not sure what other details there are (grave goods, state of the body, etc). We also went to one of the Karen ethnic villages. We bought gas from them in a 2-L plastic bottle. One of the young fellas was quite drunk and kept stringing his favourite English sayings together "Thank you very much, Coca-Cola OK, very good, OK!" and was dancing and singing and being generally raucous, but fun. That night we went through Tham Lod, a cave with a river running through it. The coolest part was the river, which we traveled on with a bamboo raft, though we got to see some of the caverns by kerosene lamp. Every evening at dusk hundreds of swifts fly around like mad before they hunker in to their nests in the cave for the night.

My most enduring and cherished memory of Cave Lodge, though, is from the very first morning. I woke up in my little shack, opened my eyes and I saw a perfect, quiet, hazy morning forest image.

A crowd of the guests plus John the owner and his family were preparing to go on a kayaking/caving expedition for 3 days. I was very tempted to go, but I decided it was more money than I wanted to spend just then and I did want to head on to Pai. Looking back, it would have been awesome, but also looking back I wouldn't change much about my Pai experience.

You know, most people come back from Pai and have some story about life-changing experiences or attunement or just what a blast they had. So I do. It's a small place with not really a lot to do. It really is full of hippies, new-agey people, self-proclaimed mystics, and generally "alternative" sort of folk. That's mostly why I loved it there. From the basis of my emotional state then, it was an important nurturing and revealing place.

Some clips of what I wrote in my journal:
"I'm slowly being turned inside out."
"[People I met] have pulled some kind of valve and I'm watching my life's stories and feelings and choices flowing out in front of me in full body heaves and I'm seeing them for what they are."

It was here I understood that I didn't want to go back to Korea and that I needed to end my romantic relationship. I eventually understood that I did have to go back to Korea for a little while because I would have had no money. I was close to calling it all off and just going home, or staying in SE Asia (don't know how that would have worked out!), and a number of other wild ideas. While I ended up taking the cautious route (going back to Korea) I did decide to cut my contract. I am so lucky and happy that I came back, and I am so lucky and happy that I am leaving now when I am.

Anyway, I became enraptured with one of the guys I met at Cave Lodge, Jack, I tried out some tai chi, I spoke to some people with really positive things to say and interesting stories to tell. I ran into Marco, the Dutch guy I met way back in Melaka. I ran into Alex again. I ran into the English couple who were on the place in Mae Hong Son and at Cave Lodge. I did see a couple temples, some waterfalls, a Chinese village originally founded by refugee Kuomintang. Also witnessed/was initiated to the beginnings of Songkran (the Buddhist New Year--Pii Mai in Laos) festivities.

I stayed in Pai for a week just idling: eating delicious food, drinking Kombucha, doing tai chi (sort of), hanging out, chatting. I needed it even if it sent me off into several deep-ends, in a good but exhausting way. For the next few weeks I really hit my stride in my travels and felt grounded but with a floating spirit.

Mae Hong Son and some festivals

Mae Hong Son was a neat little place where I could walk into town from the air port. I had some trouble finding a place to stay because most of the budget guest houses were full. There weren’t really that many tourists around though. *shrug* There was an important festival going on so maybe it was relatives and culture vultures that were coming into town. I finally found a place and crashed for 13 hours.

In my planning I was intrigued by Mae Hong Son because of its proximity to exotic, unreachable Myanmar. But Myanmar is totally reachable and I met several travelers throughout my trip who had been. I don’t know anything about the traditional and vernacular architecture of the area so I couldn’t tell if the houses and shops looked Burmese but the temples were definitely different than the other Thai ones. These were Shan, specifically, rather than Burmese. The tiers of the roofs are different, the style of embellishments are different, the inside decoration is a bit different.

I just wandered around mostly. I saw the two major temples, went in some shops, walked around the night market. The festival going on was the Poi Sang Long. It’s where the young Shan boys are about to be initiated as novices in the temple. They’re about 7 years old, give or take. They’ll do this in towns all over the area but there’s bigger ceremony in the larger towns like Mae Hong Son and Pai. The boys get all dressed up in fancy “princely” clothes complete with makeup and they’re paraded around town on the shoulders of a relative or on a truck or horse (so that they can’t touch the ground) accompanied by relatives banging drums and gongs, and a sort of decorated parasol. There are several stages of the goings-on, like cutting of the hair, absolution from the local abbots, partying with the family.

I woke up early the second day to see the big procession around the town. It was a gorgeous sunrise and everyone started to gather around the two main temples in their best clothes it seemed. They strap the possessions the boys will take with them to the temple onto poles which the women carry. There was a pickup truck with musicians and middle-aged ladies dancing. There were other offerings and gifts and drums and gongs. Everything brightly coloured. It was really neat to see everyone lining up. Finally they were off for a circuit or two of the town.

I’d arranged a motorbike ride to a “Longneck Village.” I recoiled a bit at the signs advertising tours to these villages because they don’t use the name they call themselves. They are part of the larger Karen group which has three major groups within it I think. The village I visited, Huay Sua Thao, was mostly populated by Kayan (that’s what they call themselves). I suppose tourists who haven’t looked into it at all wouldn’t know a Kayan from a hole in the wall (nor would I were she not a woman with rings on her neck) but I think the tour companies could have a bit more tact.

You pay an entrance fee (there’s an explanation about what the money goes towards, but I’m not convinced that it all goes to the village) and the sort of polite way to go about things is to buy something from their stalls then ask to take their picture. Most spoke enough English to talk about prices and say what items were. Not all of them are their own handicrafts but one woman had had a professional photographer take a number of pictures of her and some of the other women and she sells prints of these. I’d seen her face on postcards around Mae Hong Son too. There was one frustrating episode with a Thai man (I think?) who was barking at one girl who’d just gotten off a motorcycle. He wanted a better picture of her on it or near it or something. She didn’t oblige him but she looked pissed off.

At one point a small procession came by with men carrying logs, some gong and drum banging and girls followed with bowls of water which they were sprinkling at everyone. It was close to Songkran so I thought that might be something to do with it. We followed them up to these sort of totem poles, or rather poles with a small sort of temple on each. There was a foreigner there who was making a documentary about a village outcast and he explained what he knew about it (and then on the way out I noticed a board with explanations of different aspects of their culture).

In their creation story the earth lacked density so the creator deities planted a post and as the post grew, so did the earth and it became firm. The post is venerated and is called “Kan Htein Bo.” Each year they plant a new pole, preferably made of Eugenia tree, the first tree created. The old ones stay up but (as I saw when I was there) if there’s one that has rotted and fallen, they remove it. The part at the top has pieces to represent the Sun, Moon, a sanctuary for the deities, a streamer as a ladder to connect heaven and earth, and a spider’s web which humans must pass through to get to heaven (also a reference to their belief of the interconnectedness of all the parts of the universe).

When I was there they were just making preparations, building the new sanctuary thing for the top, etc. I was really lucky to see it though. Usually the tourists stay where the stalls are I think and don’t get to interact within the daily life and traditions of the village.

On the way to the village I saw some elephants meant for tourist treks. The scenery was nice, and the road was crisscrossed by streams and the pavement covered in algae under the water. Even though the driver always slowed down and took care at the stream we took a spill once. No one was hurt, and we were dry again by the time we left the village. My camera was completely submerged, though only briefly, and it survived. That camera took a real beating throughout my trip but it’s no worse for wear except the water stains on the inside lens and scratched viewing screen.

That afternoon I got the bus to Soppong.

More Thailand (Sukhothai, Chiang Mai)

I've been thinking for weeks about how best to organize the next few posts on my travels, where to put the division lines.

I left Bangkok the night of March 28, just to keep you up to speed with chronology. I forgot to mention one Bangkok anecdote: I was walking down the street towards my hostel and was passing Patpong Market. Something seemed really strange and eerie, then I realized that none of the stalls had their lights on, indeed most had candles. I immediately assumed that the power was out and I looked in to the permanent shops but their lights were on. Confused I started formulating explanations like a fuse was blown in the market's power supply. Then I passed some police cars and a camera crew. Then my imagination really got going. The answer came to me on a t-shirt: Earth Hour 2009. How cool is that?

Now, I had been to Ayutthaya, the UNESCO designated World Heritage site, former Thai capital. I'm not one to miss out on more sweet ruins so I went to the capital that preceded that one, also a World Heritage site, Sukhothai.

There's an excellent night sleeper train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. If you time it right you can save on time and money by sleeping on the train and stopping off on places along the way. I took a pleasant fan-cooled sleeper bunk train to Phitsanulok. I arrived just as it was dawning and was able to stash my big bag in a room at the station. After a quick bite I took a cyclo (or trishaw or whatever you wanna call it) to the bus station as the sun was coming up and the monks were returning from their alms rounds. Then I got a bus for an hour to Sukhothai, and then a shared mini van to the historical park. Then I rented a bicycle to get around.

These temples and other ruins have more obvious associations with Hindism, especially lingas and yonis which I hadn't known about before. I learned a lot about Hindu-Buddhist art and architecture and its Thai chronology. The Sukhothai period was know for its standing Buddhas. The creature garuda is the national symbol of Thailand and also the symbol of the monarchy. I wrote this in my journal "I think we're too plain and obsessed with realism and science in Canada. We would never use a crazy monster symbol like in association with our leaders." I really loved Sukhothai, it was more peaceful and less-frequented by tourists, at least when I was there. Really beautiful place.

Sawngthaew (pick-up truck with benches) to the bus station, bus to Phitsanulok, moto to train station. I hadn't been able to book another sleeper bunk that morning so I was in second class for the night trip up to Chiang Mai. Another interesting transportation experience to add to the list. These were rickety but reclining seats. There were fans, the lights were always on, and the windows were open, letting in the loud clickety-clack, various pungents smells, and every insect attracted by the lights or swept in by the wind came to join us. I'd wake up every so often and have to dust the dead bugs off me. The drink and food vendors were there but in fewer numbers and there were no people standing in the aisles, though they were between the cars. I didn't sleep much but I kept thinking about the miserable trip the third-class passengers must be having.

As I stepped off the train I felt a migraine coming on. I haven't had one for a couple years. It starts with one of my hands becoming numb and tingly and the sentation passes up through my arm, into my neck and face, down my throat and up to my eye. When I first notice it I usually stop all activity and go to bed, except for the time I was in the middle of an exam and this time getting off a night train in Thailand. Luckily I'd phoned ahead the day before to book a room so I got in a tuk-tuk and got there fine. But reception didn't open for almost an hour. Then the bed wasn't available until midday. Fuck, I was dying. I was able to eat, book a short cooking course for that night, then crash on the daybeds on a rooftop terrace. When I finally got to the room I slept the rest of the day and woke up fine.

I had a limited time in Chiang Mai because I'd booked a flight to Mae Hong Son. I planned to return to CM anyway. I hadn't planned on doing a cooking course but there was one just for an evening. I was really glad I did, I had a lot of fun. It was just me and a German couple and the thing was done at the chef's home just out of town. We made pad thai, curry, tom yum, some other stuff. I learned about some ingredients and got a cookbook out of it, included.

When I returned I started chatting with a lovely nice American girl, Katie, who had been to Manitoulin Island (how unusual and awesome is that!) and we eventually went out for food/drinks with a whole crowd of Aussies, Canadians, American, Swede, UK... I had my heart set on reggae and dancing, both together ideally. We hopped around as each place shooed us out. We ended up at a place called THC, a really chill place with reaggae so I was very happy. Then a cute thing happened, and Katie forgive me but I thought it was so adorable. Katie was up getting a drink and a nice-looking French boy said something to her. Now, she's taken French before but was startled and nervous and sometimes we forget our languages when that happens (even our native tongue). She told me the little story when she got back and pointed him out. He notioced us looking/talking about him so he came over. (I might add that this simple assertive but unaggressive action gave me a very favourable first impression of him, nice work Olivier!). Katie was so cute trying to practice her French but slipping into Spanish all the time, and Olivier was so lovely and patient.

So the whole crowd (including new additions and subtractions) hauled off to somewhere else. Not sure cuz the rum and coke buckets were starting to get to me a little, but I know there was dancing and I know I talked about Paris Combo, and I know I danced with some Thai girls and one told me right away she likes boys and not girls (just in case I guess). There is photographic evidence of a tuk-tuk ride with like 10 people inside. Anyway arrived upstairs at some breakfast place having, well, breakfast as the sun was coming up and then everyone was pairing off. Just me and Olivier and Damien, two lovely French boys, were left; lucky me! I was pleased to find I could converse fairly easily in French and not be talking about school, Aliant telecommunications, or breastfeeding (...yeah, old call center job). I rolled in around 10 am and slept. Then caught the plane that afternoon. Needless to say really, but I didn't see a single tourist or historical or religious site in Chiang Mai and I didn't end up backtracking there. But I had a fabulous time. I met a pair of lovely, outgoing, positive Aussie ladies that I'd run into again later.

I sound like a teenager, retelling a "night out" story but what the hell.

Next post will be about Mae Hong Son and Soppong.

Walking ATM and Apparent Racist

Those who've traveled in SE Asia know the deal with moto and tuk-tuk drivers, and touts and hawkers. They're at every corner, in front of every tourist attraction, crowded around the door of your bus as you step off, in your face while you're eating dinner. Sometimes you walk down a street and a successive chorus of "tuk-tuk?" precedes you, sometimes you are hollered at from across the road "Hey lady!". But sometimes they'll start by making eye contact and simply say hello. You, not wanting to be rude, say hello and if you're lucky you can walk by quickly enough. But more often than not they'll follow up with "How are you?" "Where you come from?" "How long you stay in ____?" and you answer politely as these are quite normal questions and random children will often ask you these. Then come the kickers: "What you do today/tomorrow?" or "Do you have plans today/tomorrow?" I always know it's coming but still for the sake of politeness I tell them the truth which is usually that I have no specific plans. Then they give their pitch for a marvelous and cheap moto tour. You are never able to say no once and have done with it. They will try to convince you. I even told a guy right off the bat today that I didn't have enough money and he tried three more times to convince me and even lowered his price before he finally left me alone. It's like they don't understand that maybe I don't want a fucking tour or maybe I actually can't afford one now even if I wanted to. They approach me unsolicited and seem to expect that I will be ever so grateful they did. They seem to believe they know what I want better than I do. I don't usually mind smiling and shaking my head or saying "no thank you" 100 times walking down a street as long as they don't engage me otherwise, but having to sit through the bullshit conversation, the friendliness that is just a ploy to sell you something really fucking pisses me off most of the time.

I know well enough that these moto drivers are not like the majority of the local people. I've had enough good clean conversations and interactions without a sales pitch to keep my head about me and not make irrational generalizations. My tuk-tuk driver in Siem Reap told me that he thought Koreans were impolite because when he is in the market area and calls out "tuk-tuk?" they don't even look at him. I explained that it can be really tiring and irritating to have to be polite to every driver that hollers at you. But I took the comment to heart and I've never been intentionally rude to hopeful drivers.

I have had, and maybe others have had similar, experiences in Korea where I want to ask a stranger on the street for directions. I may have a map or I may be able to stammer "_____ where please?" only to be frowned at and waved away or have a head shaken at me. I've had instances where I merely walk up to someone and am waved away before a word leaves my lips. It's vastly infuriating but all you can do is walk away and fume to yourself. Today in Dalat I had my book open to the map and I wanted to know which road to take to get back to the lake. All I had to do was point at the picture of the lake with its name in Vietnamese written on it. I approached a woman in her little restaurant and was immediately waved away. I was pissed off but I went across the street to a group of men playing a game and they helped me no problem. They didn't speak any English.

In Dalat there is this group called "Easy Riders" who are dudes with classy motos and excellent English who will take you around whatever sites you want or even on several-day tours. They all wear a coat with "Easy Riders" on the back. The true Easy Riders are in Dalat but others around Vietnam, especially in Hoi An and Danang areas, call themselves this. It just so happens that I traveled for five days from Hoi An to Dalat with one of these "fake" Easy Riders and it was really great. Like every other tourist city I get a handful to dozens of approaches a day from these guys and other drivers.

I was standing on a corner today, a few hours after the first directions incident, looking at my map to find a particular cafe. An Easy Rider (third one of the day by my count) came and stopped in front of me and made to begin speaking. I looked up, shook my head and walked away. It was mostly because I was trying to concentrate on the map and while he could have helped me I didn't want to get involved in the tour pitch song and dance. I'm not used to moto drivers offering help without making you sit through their spiel afterwards. He drove up again and asked me if he could help. So I told him what I was trying to find and he pointed out the way. Then he told me that what I'd just did was really not good, the waving him away. And I conceded that it was a bit rude and apologised. He then said to me "If you don't like me and my people, if you don't like Vietnamese people then you should go home." I was taken aback and explained it's not like that, that when someone comes up to me on a moto I expect that they want to sell me something and that I'd been approached by a few Easy Riders already today and that it can be annoying, apologised again. He said "No I don't want to sell the tour, we Vietnamese are very helping. If you ask us something we are helping but we don't like people like you." Trying to explain some more I told him about the rude lady earlier. He said it was because she didn't speak English (which doesn't excuse her I don't think) and I countered with the story of the men who did help me with no English. Apparently not listening to or not understanding me, the driver repeated "If you don't like Vietnamese people then go home because we don't want you around." Finally at breaking point I said "fine" and walked away. Just like with the rude convenience store owner in Daejeon I couldn't keep my grip and I burst into tears as I walked away.

I shouldn't even need to justify the fact that I don't dislike the Vietnamese. Even for all the frustrations I pour out about Korea and Korean social habits, at the end of the day I don't hate or dislike Koreans or any other group of people. How many of you non-Americans have said or thought to yourself that you would not like to live in the US, for example, because of the social culture and/or politics? No one calls you on it. I didn't even express any dislike of Vietnamese culture or social habits, only the business habits of the fucking moto drivers.

I feel like there's nothing I can do to avert experiences like that. The lesson here was that maybe I was a bit rude even if I didn't deserve the comments he made. I realised I'd done the same thing that the lady earlier had done. I hadn't given him the benefit of the doubt just like she didn't give me the chance to try to communicate. But I don't really believe that he wouldn't have tried to sell me a tour, and maybe the woman didn't really believe we could communicate without frustration or embarrassment.

I've cooled down about it now but it really pains me that someone is going around believing I'm a rude racist and maybe telling all his friends about it. What would you have done?

Picking it up again (Bangkok, Ayutthaya)

So where was I? Oh, Bangkok. OHHHHHH, Bangkok.

Just after I got settled into my dorm room I went out for dinner with a couple of the girls staying with me. One English girl just out of uni and loving the world and another English girl who works all over the world with limosine services or something also loving the world. We ate at Cabbages and Condoms. This is a really good restaurant for food quality and atmosphere actually and part of its proceeds go towards sex education especially in more remote areas of Thailand. They have a gift shop with all sorts of fun t-shirts and postcards as well as nice handicraft tourist things. There were mannequins whose attire was made entirely of multicoloured condoms and contraceptive pills. They give you a condom in lieu of an after dinner mint.

So then we went to Khao San Rd. Yep.

Alright alright, Khao San road is a sort of infamous backbacker party area. It's excellent for people watching. You may find vendors of fried insects, Ko Pha Ngan full moon party t-shirts, people to dread or braid your hair, tons of clothes and DVDs and knicknacks and what have you. There was a man with a young crazed-eyed elephant and his shtick is that you pay for some food to feed the elephant. Something completely fucked about this elephant in the middle of Bangkok like that. I saw another one on Silom Rd. You'll also find touts to take you to a ping pong show, usually in the Patpong area.

So we went to a ping pong show. Um, maybe you should just look that one up. What happens is they don't charge cover but you have to buy an outrageously expensive drink. We understood this but had been quoted a different price by our tout than the matron wanted. She got quite upset. We left after having paid the price we were originally told though. I don't think I'd encourage anyone to go see one of these shows. I didn't exactly know what I was getting into. Live and learn.

Patpong and Silom Rd. were interesting areas for observing the sex trade in action. You have your ping pong shows but also live sex shows and bars geared towards selling the girls or boys. I read a memoire called "Bangkok Boy" and really got the nitty gritty details. Just incredible.

I can't remember all the order of everything for the rest of the time I was there. I spent 5 days or so. I didn't get to Katchanaburi (Kwai River and all that) just because it was inconvenient from where I was staying. I did do a day trip to Ayutthaya, though. This was a former royal capital, 1351 to 1767. The Burmese invaded on several occasions and fianlly dismantled the city. The new (the present) Thai dynasty was later established at Thonburi/Bangkok. So Ayutthaya in a UNESCO World Heritage site. It has some ruined temples and bits of wall and palace. You know I love that stuff. A lot of it has been stuck together again with kind of unsightly concrete or something. The overall effect is lovely though.

The train up to Ayutthaya is 3rd class. Hard benches, open windows, ceiling fans, people in every square inch of space sitting, standing, squatting, hanging out the open train doors. Food and drink vendors squeezing along the aisles yelling out what they have. A real milk run.

I took the river taxi half often. It's so much nicer than sucking in retarded amounts of exhaust at face-level in a tuk-tuk. A tuk-tuk is a motorbike rigged with a place for passengers at the back. Even though there's a roof (which usually impedes your view) it's open to all the city's elements. The river taxi is cheaper, too. And you don't have to haggle. (200 baht! Oh it's very far! I went there for 80 last night! 100. Ugh, fine.)

My first day of proper site-seeing I met a nice handsome Danish guy, Klaus Andersen (oh yes, how Danish!) at the pier. We went around the Royal Palace and it's adjoining temple. You've heard about the King of Thailand? How he's pretty much venerated more than the Buddha? I had to rent a sarong to go around the palace because my three-quarter pants weren't decent enough. More like a hobble skirt. And yet never in mosques in Malaysia or Singapore was I asked to change my attire (I did have the sense to wear long-sleeves though...even in the Bangkok Palace too!). The palaces and temples of Bangkok are outta control! So much colour and glitter and mirrors and embellishments. It's really amazing to look at and be around, just mind-boggling. In one temple, Wat Pho, they have a HUGE reclining bronze Buddha: 46 meters long and 15 meters high.

Klaus travels differently than I do. He stays in nicer hotels, won't eat stall food. But we had a good chat about European and dogme films (kudos to Matt Sheedy for my education). We went to a nice jazz bar too, with Platoon playing on silently behind the bar. I've never heard Ella Fiztgerald kinda singing emenating from an Asian face. She was excellent.

There's a lot I didn't see and do in Bangkok. I'd visit again for sure. But what a job it does on you lungs! When you hear about Bangkok traffic being outrageous, it's true. It really is the cock of the block, though. I'm a long way from Bangkok physically and emotionally. I'm writing this bit from Luang Prabang, Laos.

More to come eventually!