Saturday, May 3, 2008
Dhamma is for lovers
Chiang Mai is an airy city of 250,000 people, Thailand's second city in terms of tourism. It's somewhat scenic being flanked by mountains on one side, but heavily touristed, with a massive number of western restaurants serving banana pancakes and pizza. The vast majority of tourists head to Chiang Mai for hill-tribe trekking. Northern Thailand has a substantial population (a few hundred thousands) of fourth world peoples, so called because they are not naturalized Thai citizens, but supposedly live a relatively pre-modern life as subsistence agriculturalists in the highlands, isolated from outside influence. Western trekkers typically take 2-4 day treks to see these tribes in their "natural habitat." However, I don't plan to do so. My impression is that while it might have been authentic thirty years ago, it's an industry now, and there must be, literally, around a few hundred thousand trekkers who pass through each year. As such, I've repeatedly heard from locals that many of the hill-tribes are now paid to stay put, continuing their traditional way of life. I can just imagine it, a bunch of hill tribe people, lounging around in denims, watching TV, get a call that a tour group is coming, and throw on their traditional clothes, and hide the TV.
Regardless of whether the "ethno-tourism" based out of Chiang Mai is authentic or not, the highland villages of farmers in the North, are no less "ethnic" or Thai. As such, I've rented a little 125cc motorcycle, and tomorrow, I head out to do the Mae Hong Son loop, a 600k journey through some of the North's most stunning mountains and valleys. I went on a sample ride outside of Chiang Mai yesterday, to the San Kamphaeng hot springs area. Snaking past glowing green rice paddies, and small mountains, I got my first taste of rural Thai life, replete with little flocks of chickens darting across narrow roads, and warm smiles of farmer's looking up from their fields at the clueless farang rolling by. I ended the day, strictly platonically, in a steam bath with three Japanese men. Water piped from the hot springs outside proved a wonderful respite from a beautiful, but cold and rainy day spent pelted by the Thai monsoon on my bike.
Speaking of warm smiles, I got a lot more from the Thais at my guesthouse, who helped me learn how to ride a semi-automatic Honda dream motorbike. When they weren't scrabbling out of my way as I rolled the throttle too far, jumping around the courtyard, they were rolling with laughter at the circus show taking place. Even though I much more confident riding now, they still smirk and keep their distance when I ride into the guesthouse.
Meeting locals like the Thais at my guesthouse has been one of the highlights in Chiang Mai. After spending so much time with other travelers in Bangkok (mainly CSers and a French-Canadian buddy I made at the hostel), I decided to avoid other travelers here. They're perfectly charming, but I felt like I was missing out on experiencing more Thai culture. I lucked out the other day, at a Buddhist Wat (wat = temple). A monk spotted me from his lunch table, and invited me to eat. I was a little stunned, since I figured he must be bored mindless by tourists, but over the course of the meal, I learned that he had lived in Madras, studying Buddhist philosophy there. He was enjoying the chance to reminisce about India, and I was happy to oblige. When I was leaving, I spotted a giant photo of him on the wall of the wat, and I mentioned that he seemed popular. He replied most casually, "No, I'm just the senior monk of the wat." You've got to love the kindness of strangers.
The other highlight was meeting a British expat during a sleepless night. Unable to sleep, I wandered out to the main strip of bars at 2:30 AM, and sat down for a red label whisky next to what I initially took to be a sex tourist, since he was with a Thai woman. However, over the course of two hours, I got to know Phil and his Thai wife, Nui (or Pi Nui to me, i.e. "Big sister Nui). Phil had met Nui 5 years previously when her motorcycle broke down, and now, they're married. It was fascinating get a window into the expat world in Chiang Mai, as there are a significant number of farangs who live here year round.
That's it for now. Today, I relax before heading on a five day motorcycle tour through Mae Hong Son.
Regardless of whether the "ethno-tourism" based out of Chiang Mai is authentic or not, the highland villages of farmers in the North, are no less "ethnic" or Thai. As such, I've rented a little 125cc motorcycle, and tomorrow, I head out to do the Mae Hong Son loop, a 600k journey through some of the North's most stunning mountains and valleys. I went on a sample ride outside of Chiang Mai yesterday, to the San Kamphaeng hot springs area. Snaking past glowing green rice paddies, and small mountains, I got my first taste of rural Thai life, replete with little flocks of chickens darting across narrow roads, and warm smiles of farmer's looking up from their fields at the clueless farang rolling by. I ended the day, strictly platonically, in a steam bath with three Japanese men. Water piped from the hot springs outside proved a wonderful respite from a beautiful, but cold and rainy day spent pelted by the Thai monsoon on my bike.
Speaking of warm smiles, I got a lot more from the Thais at my guesthouse, who helped me learn how to ride a semi-automatic Honda dream motorbike. When they weren't scrabbling out of my way as I rolled the throttle too far, jumping around the courtyard, they were rolling with laughter at the circus show taking place. Even though I much more confident riding now, they still smirk and keep their distance when I ride into the guesthouse.
Meeting locals like the Thais at my guesthouse has been one of the highlights in Chiang Mai. After spending so much time with other travelers in Bangkok (mainly CSers and a French-Canadian buddy I made at the hostel), I decided to avoid other travelers here. They're perfectly charming, but I felt like I was missing out on experiencing more Thai culture. I lucked out the other day, at a Buddhist Wat (wat = temple). A monk spotted me from his lunch table, and invited me to eat. I was a little stunned, since I figured he must be bored mindless by tourists, but over the course of the meal, I learned that he had lived in Madras, studying Buddhist philosophy there. He was enjoying the chance to reminisce about India, and I was happy to oblige. When I was leaving, I spotted a giant photo of him on the wall of the wat, and I mentioned that he seemed popular. He replied most casually, "No, I'm just the senior monk of the wat." You've got to love the kindness of strangers.
The other highlight was meeting a British expat during a sleepless night. Unable to sleep, I wandered out to the main strip of bars at 2:30 AM, and sat down for a red label whisky next to what I initially took to be a sex tourist, since he was with a Thai woman. However, over the course of two hours, I got to know Phil and his Thai wife, Nui (or Pi Nui to me, i.e. "Big sister Nui). Phil had met Nui 5 years previously when her motorcycle broke down, and now, they're married. It was fascinating get a window into the expat world in Chiang Mai, as there are a significant number of farangs who live here year round.
That's it for now. Today, I relax before heading on a five day motorcycle tour through Mae Hong Son.
Train Journey from Bangkok to Chiang Mai
After four days in the mad, steaming bustle of Bangkok, the quiet train journey to Chiang Mai was tonic. Thai trains are not altogether different from Indian trains. I rode second class, which has far more room than Indian second class, and larger, open windows (no glass, or mesh, just open); they're also much more sedate, with no vendors loudly announcing the sale of hot tea, or the violent stink of human waste.
I shared my compartment with an adorable Thai family, two kids headed to spend some time with grandma and grandpa up north. My iPod and a box of chocolate pocky sticks ensure I had two buddies for the duration of the journey.
The countryside outside of Bangkok quickly turned scenic, and the landscape slowly changed from the tropical plains to deciduous forest under the setting sun, until night time found us speeding past forests that looked wraith-like in the inky black of night.
Dawn close to Chiang Mai was nothing short of glorious.
I shared my compartment with an adorable Thai family, two kids headed to spend some time with grandma and grandpa up north. My iPod and a box of chocolate pocky sticks ensure I had two buddies for the duration of the journey.
The countryside outside of Bangkok quickly turned scenic, and the landscape slowly changed from the tropical plains to deciduous forest under the setting sun, until night time found us speeding past forests that looked wraith-like in the inky black of night.
Dawn close to Chiang Mai was nothing short of glorious.
Conveyor Belt Sushi
People are going to start thinking that all I do is eat here, but my last dining experience in Bangkok was probably also the most fun. It actually wasn't even Thai food. Ever since I was 16, I've always wanted to eat at a Japanese conveyor belt restaurant, which I first saw on the BBC. Basically, it's a budget buffet style place, with one big catch: you get your food off a conveyor belt that circulates past every seat in the restaurant. The chef continually makes items, and then places them on the belt, for customers to pick up as they please. As for payment, items are grouped into categories, and each price category has a plate color corresponding to it. At the end of the meal, the hostess tallies up your plates, by color and count, and bills you accordingly.
I found such a place 2 hours before I left, and checked in for a delightful lunch. As soon as I sat down, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. For one, there was practically no sushi on the belt; it was mostly slices of raw meat and fish. Puzzled, I was about top pick up a plate and start eating it uncooked when I spotted my neighbors doing differently; they both had bowls of steaming soup placed on burners in front of them. I thought this was an option, but it was actually the main course. The burners heated the soup to a boil, and you cooked your own food. I overcooked my first slice of meat, but after I got the hang of it, I had a blast, fancying myself a little chef, throwing together clams, beef, bizarre looking mushrooms and some leafy greens.
Later, I moved onto sushi. Actually, I had to wait to move on to sushi. The thing I was to realize was that at a conveyor restaurant, you're at the mercy of the tastes of everyone to your right. In this case, the Japanese guy to my immediate right had a hankering for sushi. For the first twenty minutes, every time a sushi plate emerged hopefully from the little conveyor belt opening, I waited optimistically for it to come my way, but to no avail. The man to my left snagged every piece until he had finally gorged himself, and then I had my turn. Moral of the story: the best seat in a conveyor belt restaurant is the one at the start.
I found such a place 2 hours before I left, and checked in for a delightful lunch. As soon as I sat down, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. For one, there was practically no sushi on the belt; it was mostly slices of raw meat and fish. Puzzled, I was about top pick up a plate and start eating it uncooked when I spotted my neighbors doing differently; they both had bowls of steaming soup placed on burners in front of them. I thought this was an option, but it was actually the main course. The burners heated the soup to a boil, and you cooked your own food. I overcooked my first slice of meat, but after I got the hang of it, I had a blast, fancying myself a little chef, throwing together clams, beef, bizarre looking mushrooms and some leafy greens.
Later, I moved onto sushi. Actually, I had to wait to move on to sushi. The thing I was to realize was that at a conveyor restaurant, you're at the mercy of the tastes of everyone to your right. In this case, the Japanese guy to my immediate right had a hankering for sushi. For the first twenty minutes, every time a sushi plate emerged hopefully from the little conveyor belt opening, I waited optimistically for it to come my way, but to no avail. The man to my left snagged every piece until he had finally gorged himself, and then I had my turn. Moral of the story: the best seat in a conveyor belt restaurant is the one at the start.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Eating out in Bangkok
I'm blogging up a storm today, but I have time to kill till my train leaves, so I wanted to make one more Bangkok post.
Although Bangkok has a lot to offer, amazing history, a swinging, liberal nightlife, world-class shopping, the highlight for me has been the street food. Every corner, alley, and road is populated by a small army of push-carts and hole in the wall restaurants that dish up a spectrum of Thai cuisine. Different places specialize in different things; some carts only dish up phat thai, or duck soup, whereas other's specialize in seafood, or coffee. Moreover, this is a city which sets it watch by its meal times. The same cart might serve different things at different meal times, and one can almost track the time of day by sighting the change meals dished up on the street. Morning time, with the busy Bangkok commute (easily reminiscent of NYC), sees carts dishing up fresh fruit, fried dough, buttered toast, iced Thai coffee, a panoply of seafood curries, smoked fish on skewers, and much more, all of it in small plastic bags, ready to grab and go. As the day wears on, the same stalls might switch to a different sort of dish or cuisine altogether, and as such, may attract a different set of Thais, and the same switch may happen at dinner. Probably the most spectacular items are those with the seafood. The amount of seafood that Bangkok consumes is dizzying (I wonder if it's even ecologically sustainable). Fish, crabs, shrimp, prawns, lobster, squid, octopus, eel, seaweed, you name it, they serve it, at almost 80% of the stall.s
I've never seen a city with such a culture of cuisine. Most remarkably, Bankokians know they're spoiled for choice, quality, and price (meals are ridiculously cheap; I can have two entrees, and a drink for 100 baht, or about $3), and as such, plan they're day around meal times, often trying to squeeze in four, even five meals. They'll exchange the locations of favorite stalls, plan outings for food, and make office outings for lunch. It's a wonder there are so few fat Thais.
Although Bangkok has a lot to offer, amazing history, a swinging, liberal nightlife, world-class shopping, the highlight for me has been the street food. Every corner, alley, and road is populated by a small army of push-carts and hole in the wall restaurants that dish up a spectrum of Thai cuisine. Different places specialize in different things; some carts only dish up phat thai, or duck soup, whereas other's specialize in seafood, or coffee. Moreover, this is a city which sets it watch by its meal times. The same cart might serve different things at different meal times, and one can almost track the time of day by sighting the change meals dished up on the street. Morning time, with the busy Bangkok commute (easily reminiscent of NYC), sees carts dishing up fresh fruit, fried dough, buttered toast, iced Thai coffee, a panoply of seafood curries, smoked fish on skewers, and much more, all of it in small plastic bags, ready to grab and go. As the day wears on, the same stalls might switch to a different sort of dish or cuisine altogether, and as such, may attract a different set of Thais, and the same switch may happen at dinner. Probably the most spectacular items are those with the seafood. The amount of seafood that Bangkok consumes is dizzying (I wonder if it's even ecologically sustainable). Fish, crabs, shrimp, prawns, lobster, squid, octopus, eel, seaweed, you name it, they serve it, at almost 80% of the stall.s
I've never seen a city with such a culture of cuisine. Most remarkably, Bankokians know they're spoiled for choice, quality, and price (meals are ridiculously cheap; I can have two entrees, and a drink for 100 baht, or about $3), and as such, plan they're day around meal times, often trying to squeeze in four, even five meals. They'll exchange the locations of favorite stalls, plan outings for food, and make office outings for lunch. It's a wonder there are so few fat Thais.
God works for Google
I thought this was really funny; I'm writing an email to my dad on Gmail, a short two-liner, and I mention that I'm heading to Northern Thailand. Google adverts immediately displays the following:
Photos: That's in my Gut?
This site guarantees to remove really gross stuff from your gut.
www.BlessedHerbs.com
Feng Shui Horoscope
Love, money, career, family ... discover your year 2008 for Free !
www.aboutastro.com/my-horoscope
Free Love Numerology
Your birthdate to tell your future. Free online prediction.
www.pasqualina.com/free
N. Thailand is famous for being Hippy-ville, but I didn't expect Google to be so spot on with their product placement. Just more proof that God is indeed working for Google.
Photos: That's in my Gut?
This site guarantees to remove really gross stuff from your gut.
www.BlessedHerbs.com
Feng Shui Horoscope
Love, money, career, family ... discover your year 2008 for Free !
www.aboutastro.com/my-horoscope
Free Love Numerology
Your birthdate to tell your future. Free online prediction.
www.pasqualina.com/free
N. Thailand is famous for being Hippy-ville, but I didn't expect Google to be so spot on with their product placement. Just more proof that God is indeed working for Google.
Northward Bound
The Big Mango has been good to me, but I need to get out of the city, so last night, at 12:30 AM, I booked my ticket to Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai is Thailand's second city, much smaller than Bankok, but charming in its own right.
My last few days in Bangkok were good. On Monday, I headed out with a Canadian friend I met at the hostel. As curious at it seems, we went to China Town, as Thailand has a very significant minority of Chinese immigrants. The C-town district is even more crowded than the rest of Bangkok, and is a charmingly chaotic mix of markets, temples, and larger businesses. We made our way through claustrophobic market paths for most of the morning, sharing 14 inch footpaths crammed between stalls with thousands of other pedestrians and the occasional motorcycle. Later, we found ourselves in a residential district of C-town, no more spacious (it looked like a rabbit warren), but populated by an interesting array of characters (old timers at their favorite green tea watering holes, kids playing about, delivery scooters passing through, and the ever-present, morbidly obese Bangkok dogs).
Later, we made our way to two Buddhist temples, and saw the world's largest solid gold Buddha (very bling-bling, Snoop Dogg would've approved). Thailand's religion is puzzling in that respect. Buddhism, at its purest, is an atheistic religion, more a paradigm, a cosmology, than a mode of worship. As such, idols, gods, and worldly riches (as might be typified by a giant gold buddha), are really not encouraged. But daily worship in Thailand really follows lines seen anywhere else in the world. People pray to giant idols representing the Buddha, make donations to the monks (fascinating to watch; early morning in Bangkok finds monks making their way through the city to recieve alms from shop owners), and generally worship in a manner befitting of the best monotheists. I even saw a special stall selling ready-made donations, which morning street path commuters purchased and presented to the attending monks. I suppose this sort of co-option of religion, and re-direction from its founder's directives, takes place everywhere, so much so that neuroscientists are looking for and studying "religious centers" in the brain (just the way language centers might be studied).
In the afternoon, my Canuck and I headed to a famous expat house, built by an American architect who first visited Thailand as a soldier during WWII, later returned, single handedly revived the Thai silk Industry, and then mysteriously disappeared in 1957 while wandering Cambodia. I took the initiative by suggesting we take the Skytrain, promptly got us lost, and we ended up walking several miles in the searing, 90+ plus, Bangkok heat. When we got there, it was apparent, his life story was far more interesting than the house, but still worth a visit.
In the evening, I headed on what turned out to be a date with a CSer I had met the night before, a charming Philliphina woman who has been based in Thailand for the last few years. She took me to a lovely restaurant on the river (it was called "In Love," which made me start to think it was a date). Later we headed to Kh. San road, and ended the night in the early hours in front of the Grand Palace, sharing the night with stray cats, and the sleeping homeless.
Tuesday saw me pretty much sleep the day away (14 hours!), which I felt guilty about, but I suppose I needed it....
Yesterday, I saw the Grand Palace, Reclining Buddha, and old Thai capital, all absolutely stunning. The Grand Palace has some of the most exquisite imperial architecture and inlay detail that I've ever seen! And the reclining Buddha was massive (46m long). The old Thai capital was also remarkable, but VERY phallic. Kind of makes you wonder if the guy who built was compensating....
And today, I head to Chiang Mai, and northern Thailand. Most people opt for hill-tribe trekking in those parts, but after reading more about the contexts, and touristy nature of the industry, I've opted for taking a motorcycle journey through the isolated highlands (don't tell my parents till I get back if you read this ;). Pictures will come soon. And for all my friends and family who are good enough to indulge me by reading this blog, many of you are in my thoughts ;)
My last few days in Bangkok were good. On Monday, I headed out with a Canadian friend I met at the hostel. As curious at it seems, we went to China Town, as Thailand has a very significant minority of Chinese immigrants. The C-town district is even more crowded than the rest of Bangkok, and is a charmingly chaotic mix of markets, temples, and larger businesses. We made our way through claustrophobic market paths for most of the morning, sharing 14 inch footpaths crammed between stalls with thousands of other pedestrians and the occasional motorcycle. Later, we found ourselves in a residential district of C-town, no more spacious (it looked like a rabbit warren), but populated by an interesting array of characters (old timers at their favorite green tea watering holes, kids playing about, delivery scooters passing through, and the ever-present, morbidly obese Bangkok dogs).
Later, we made our way to two Buddhist temples, and saw the world's largest solid gold Buddha (very bling-bling, Snoop Dogg would've approved). Thailand's religion is puzzling in that respect. Buddhism, at its purest, is an atheistic religion, more a paradigm, a cosmology, than a mode of worship. As such, idols, gods, and worldly riches (as might be typified by a giant gold buddha), are really not encouraged. But daily worship in Thailand really follows lines seen anywhere else in the world. People pray to giant idols representing the Buddha, make donations to the monks (fascinating to watch; early morning in Bangkok finds monks making their way through the city to recieve alms from shop owners), and generally worship in a manner befitting of the best monotheists. I even saw a special stall selling ready-made donations, which morning street path commuters purchased and presented to the attending monks. I suppose this sort of co-option of religion, and re-direction from its founder's directives, takes place everywhere, so much so that neuroscientists are looking for and studying "religious centers" in the brain (just the way language centers might be studied).
In the afternoon, my Canuck and I headed to a famous expat house, built by an American architect who first visited Thailand as a soldier during WWII, later returned, single handedly revived the Thai silk Industry, and then mysteriously disappeared in 1957 while wandering Cambodia. I took the initiative by suggesting we take the Skytrain, promptly got us lost, and we ended up walking several miles in the searing, 90+ plus, Bangkok heat. When we got there, it was apparent, his life story was far more interesting than the house, but still worth a visit.
In the evening, I headed on what turned out to be a date with a CSer I had met the night before, a charming Philliphina woman who has been based in Thailand for the last few years. She took me to a lovely restaurant on the river (it was called "In Love," which made me start to think it was a date). Later we headed to Kh. San road, and ended the night in the early hours in front of the Grand Palace, sharing the night with stray cats, and the sleeping homeless.
Tuesday saw me pretty much sleep the day away (14 hours!), which I felt guilty about, but I suppose I needed it....
Yesterday, I saw the Grand Palace, Reclining Buddha, and old Thai capital, all absolutely stunning. The Grand Palace has some of the most exquisite imperial architecture and inlay detail that I've ever seen! And the reclining Buddha was massive (46m long). The old Thai capital was also remarkable, but VERY phallic. Kind of makes you wonder if the guy who built was compensating....
And today, I head to Chiang Mai, and northern Thailand. Most people opt for hill-tribe trekking in those parts, but after reading more about the contexts, and touristy nature of the industry, I've opted for taking a motorcycle journey through the isolated highlands (don't tell my parents till I get back if you read this ;). Pictures will come soon. And for all my friends and family who are good enough to indulge me by reading this blog, many of you are in my thoughts ;)
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