The Extravagant and Eccentric Jeepney

Some of you have already stumbled upon our tribute to jeepneys in the photograph section of this website. Normally, I’m not at all interested in vehicles. I can barely distinguish a Jaguar from a Hyundai without first looking at the symbol on the steering wheel. But since jeepneys have been a daily source of visual entertainment and amusement while we’ve been here in Philippines, I couldn’t very well leave them unmentioned in this journal.

Jeepneys were originally built by modifying left over American army surplus military jeeps after WWII. The war had destroyed almost all engine-driven vehicles, and people were in dire need of transportation. The Americans had a dilemma about how to dispose of the surplus jeeps rusting away at various depots. A mutually convenient solution materialized.

The war vehicles were sold to Filipinos who then transformed them into commercial transportation units. The jeepney became a permanent solution to the postwar transportation problem. And everywhere in the Philippines, jeepney owners enthusiastically shouted, “Let the decorating begin!”

Ornamentation is what makes the jeepneys unique, not only from other forms of transport but also from one another. Jeepneys are like Filipino snowflakes, in that no two are alike.

Indeed, it seems every aspect of the jeepney is designed for function and more importantly, embellishment. First and foremost, the long, smooth side of the jeepney is the ultimate painter's canvas and is often decorated with anything from Disney collages to astrological tributes to vistas of American cities. The bumper is not just to ward off bumps, but to hold more artwork. Even the mud flaps are prettified with a sun motif, or five stars surrounding the title of a popular or sentimental song such as "Love Me Tender” or “You're My Everything.” The ceiling is another lovely space for assorted designs such as the names of the operator's family members, the titles of some popular songs, or comic strips with Garfield being a clear favourite.

Painting aside, there are many other aspects of the decoration that rely on a more homey style of ornament. One cannot help but notice the jeepney’s wide side windows with the red and yellow cloth or crocheted curtains, the jalousies, and when it rains, the plastic awning that is let down.

By looking at the photos I’ve posted, you might wonder how the driver is able to see the road through all that hood ornamentation. Useless antennas, countless headlights, beaded curtains, and hubcaps block the already narrow view out the front window. The truth is, the driver’s can’t see. And you only need to attempt to cross the street in this city to discover that jeepneys, and every other Manila driver for that matter, see pedestrians as blobs of air that can simply be blown aside with a gentle swipe of the front bumper.

Since traffic lights here are mere suggestions, pedestrians do not have the right of way and fervently skirt across the street quickly to avoid bodily harm. Manila has been voted the worst city in the world for motorists and many have exclaimed that there are people who pay much more money to drive under less challenging conditions in videogames. But I think drivers in this city who complain about this have never tried crossing the street!

In recent history, there have been many attempts to eliminate the jeepney from the transportation scheme with good reason. Compared to buses, jeepneys are more wasteful since they sit fewer people, uses up almost as much gasoline, and spend almost as much on tires and spare parts. Numbering 27,000 in Manila alone, they aggravate the energy crisis, perpetuate dependence on multi-national corporations, and crowd the streets.

Crowding of streets is what Manila needs least. Traffic here is in such a crisis that the days you are allowed to drive your car depends on the number of your license plate. And demonstrative of traffic woes, in Tagalog, “traffic” is not just a mere noun, but also an adjective, “matrapik”, and the most widely used excuse for just about anything.

All the attempts however, have failed seemingly because the jeepney is now part of the Filipino cultural identity and the overwhelming favoured mode of transport. And so this joyous vehicle that is literature, pop art, ambulant home, statement of belief and personality, and, at the moment, King of the Road, will remain.

Happy New Year everyone! We're celebrating by listening to our new favourite band Die Moulinettes, a 50 ml. bottle of amaretto, and a Crazy Eights championship. Woohoo!

tothesea,
k~*

P.S. FYI, we "borrowed" the Jeepney poem...

Visiting Great Uncle Harry

Today we woke up with an extraordinary mission. We were quite surprised to find out yesterday that my paternal great uncle, Harry Mercer, died during WWII in the second wave of the Battle of Leyte and is buried in Manila. He died in combat on January 11, 1945, just less than two months after the troops in his division had landed in this country. Sadly, he never lived to realize the allied troops’ victory against the Japanese and the subsequent liberation of the Philippines.

To beat the midday sun, we headed out the door first thing in the morning. We walked for about an hour through a relatively quiet area of Manila, asking machine-gun toting guards for directions along the way, until we found the American Manila War Cemetery. Harry was buried in the U.S. Army cemetery because for a short time he was a faux-yankee. Since he was too young to enlist with the Canadian troops, he went south across the border, lied about his age and residence and went to war with the Americans after a single year of training. Harry’s gleaming white marble cross headstone has forever etched him as a resident of Massachusetts. He now rests beside by Americans on all sides except to his right, where a Filipino soldier lies.

After taking a few photos to show family back home, Magi walked off to look at a large memorial nearby. I sat by the grave and was awestruck by the serene setting that was to be found in such a bustling and overcrowded city such as this. Magi returned with two handfuls of white and yellow flowers that had fallen from a nearby tree. We scattered them around Harry’s grave and rested the most beautiful one on an arm of the white marble cross.

It was quite a poignant morning because I am the first family member to ever visit Harry’s grave. My aunt Cheryl commented on how wonderful it would have been for my poppy to know that someone in the family had visited his brother after all these years. I went there and returned home carrying that precise emotion.

tothesea,
k~*

Thirteen Lessons You Learn from a Dog

1. When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
2. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.
3. Let others know when they've invaded your territory.
4. Take naps and always stretch before rising.
5. Run, romp, and play daily.
6. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
7. Never pretend to be something you're not.
8. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
9. When someone is having a bad day, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
10. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
11. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
12. When you are happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
13. Never miss your chance to have a treat.

Happy Holidays everyone! Maligayang Pasko!

Love,
Krishna & Magi

Paki Balot Ito

Normally around this time of year I’d be dreaming of sipping tea by the hearth and romping in the snow with some fun-loving dogs. Snow gives the holidays a magical quality that is only matched by the colours of autumn. Even the Filipinas we’ve talked to long for a bit of the white stuff. Fat chance of ever seeing snow in Manila. December is as cold as it gets and the temperature rarely dips below 25 C (80 F). Here, the holiday season for us is marked by escaping the heat in an A/C apartment and taking daily dips in the pool (we have become excellent lap swimmers!). Pumpkin pies and sugar cookies are replaced by mangoes and sapin-sapin, a delicious coconut milk-based dessert.

In our guidebook, Filipino cuisine has humourously been described as “short on greens and long on intestines.” Ironically, dessert is often flavoured with or made of vegetables and even ice-cream comes in flavours such as corn, avocado, and purple yam (we even saw cheese-flavoured ice cream). The sapin-sapin that we are so fond of usually has a purple yam (ube) swirl in it, and I must say it is delicious. If there is one aspect of cuisine that Filipinos have mastered, it’s dessert.

I’ve been immersing myself in Filipino history. Their dramatic past (and present) makes for a captivating read. This irresistible 7,107 island archipelago whose total land mass is comparable to Arizona, has been colonized by all of these countries in this order: Spain (who held on for 400 years after the explorer Magellan first landed on its shores; and who named the country after King Philip II), Portugal (only a partial takeover until the Spanish overtook them), Britain (just a brief colonizing stint), Japan (for a ruthless four-year period during WWII), and finally, the US (who bought the nation for US$20,000 in a package deal that also gave them Guam and Puerto Rico). Finally, a long-awaited Independence came in 1946. Strangely enough, Filipinos (or Pinoys as they call themselves) annually celebrate their Independence from Spain in 1898 instead of the date of their actual independence. Maybe this is because the revolt against the Spanish brought forward the most popular national heroes or because the Spanish held the Philippines for so many more years than their other colonizers. This staunchly independent nation is now home to 84.5 million people, 1/8 of which live in metropolitan Manila.

Enduring an onslaught of typhoons, flash-floods, volcanoes, and earthquakes, the U.N. has named the Philippines the most disaster-prone country on earth. Notably, it is also home to the largest robbery in history (by ex-president Ferdinand Marcos and his shoe-loving wife Imelda) who stole an estimated US$5-10 billion from the people of the Philippines. Fitting their fun-loving nature despite such natural and man-made adversity, those in Manila can proudly say that their city has the world’s largest nightclub.

According to a recent language survey in Canada, Pilipino is in the top five spoken languages of Manitoba, Nunavut, and the Northwest Territories!! (Are you gasping with surprise? We are.) With Magi’s help, I’ve learned a few phrases though neither of them will get me very far in Manila (or Iqaluit for that matter). In a strange, and now laughable, dream the other night I was abducted by guerillas in Manila and spent the entire dream saying my two best phrases in Pilipino which are, “My name is Krishna” and “Can you put this in a doggy-bag?” My aim was to try and convince my captors that I was Filipina so they would let me go. It didn’t work.

Life is calm right now despite a slew of very eventful dreams. Aside from doing some initial planning for our trip around Australia, it seems we are taking a brief vacation from our holiday. Though we haven’t done much exploring or traveling within the Philippines, I must say that so far, this is some of the best quality time I’ve had on our trip. It’s nice to be able to sit back and watch the world happen, especially at this time of year when things usually seem to feel a little more hectic. We decided to stay here so that we wouldn’t find ourselves celebrating the holidays in a guesthouse somewhere in the outback. So, we are not only looking forward to Christmas and New Years, but Magi's 26th birthday next Wednesday as well.

tothesea,
k~*

photography

Finally we have made some changes to the photography page! Aaron had some film developed and scanned and I've posted a few of those pictures on the photography page of this site. Unfortunately we didn't have any editing tools or we would have done some cropping and zooming. They are also a little dense so they may take some time to load. Enjoy them here as they are.
tothesea,
k&m

tour of terrorism

A month before we left, Canada and the US warned its citizens to postpone trips to India indefinitely due to their ongoing and escalating problems with Pakistan. We were warned against travelling in Nepal because of bloody attacks by Maoist rebels in the countryside. Heavily-touristed Thailand is an easy target for terrorist attacks, especially around the beach resorts and a red flag has been raised on travel there. We were warned against going to Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia because “extremist groups present in Southeast Asia have transnational capabilities to carry out attacks against locations where Westerners congregate.” It was announced sometime last week that a travel alert has been issued for Australia because it is seen as a target for terrorism.

So I can’t say that we were that surprised when the Canadian and Australian embassies closed in Manila yesterday due to “credible” bomb threats. Furthermore, we have been warned that “Canadians should not travel to the Philippines until further notice. Threats against Canadians and Canadian interests in the Philippines have heightened and there has been an upsurge in bombings.”

It’s easy to feel vulnerable when you are an obvious foreigner so I’ve become a little wary of being in public. Moreover, if you’re like me and have an active imagination, then things like going to the mall or eating dinner out involve imagined bomb attacks. Last night I registered with the consulate here in order not to be left out of an evacuation plan.

I am definitely suffering from an ounce of “Mean World Syndrome”. It’s a cultural phenomenon whereby people subjected to a heavy dose of media adopt the overly-violent television world in place of the real world and misjudge the amount of violence in society. I would argue that in today’s world, a “heavy dose” of television is not even necessary. With CNN and BBC almost constantly talking about terrorism, it’s difficult to remember that these incidents are few and far between, however devastating. I know that life goes on pretty much as normal here despite the threats and deep down I know that there is only a very slight chance that anything remotely terrorist will happen, and an even lower chance that it will affect me personally. I’ll just knock on wood anyway though.

We’re here and we plan on spending the holidays here. So we’ll just lay low and continue to do what we have been doing; swimming laps, eating mangoes, reading books, and watching bootlegged DVDs that we buy for a hundred pesos a pop.

tothesea,
k~*

is that a bomb component in your pocketbook or are you just happy to see me?

Magi and I had pancakes for breakfast and we made them ourselves! This news might not be that exciting to most people but for us it is. The joy of reaching into a fridge or a cupboard and then making something to eat is a luxury wasted on the non-travellers of the world. Sure to some eating out is the most fun; you don't have to cook or clean up. But when you have gone for months hunting down your next meal it's a relief to be able to cook what you want, when you want it and to not have to explain to a trying-to-be-helpful waiter that vegetarians don't eat squid or shrimp.

We've been here for a week now and are so travel-weary that we haven't really left the neighbourhood. Keep in mind that we have been sans maison since May and that the perfect guesthouse we've been looking for has materialized as Magi's parents' condo. Plus it's hard to get inspired to go out when the heat and humidity is so super-oppressive and adjusting to the heat is made more difficult by the sub-zero temperatures you always encounter when entering any indoor space.

It's my first Christmas without cold weather (I am not counting A/C as cold weather) and it's a little surreal to walk around and have speakers popping out of manicured shopping mall gardens like sprinklers singing Jingle Bells and These Three Kings. This being a devoutly Catholic country, Christmas is like, well, Christmas around here. I was concerned, up until yesterday, that I was missing out on Filipino culture because we are completely surrounded by malls and lured by their cool temperatures whenever we walk outside. Magi told me that this obsession with shopping and eating out IS Filipino culture (albeit modern) and I'm really beginning to believe her. Though I am unsure as to whether the hoards of shoppers are merely there to stock up on gifts for under the tree, I feel like it's much more controlled and ordinary than that. People aren't shopping with the unique enthusiasm of finding the right shirt or soap on a rope for grandpa, they are shopping with an everyday enthusiasm of finding a good deal. The crowds or women holding up tanktops and underwear at the bargain bins are calm about it, like they are just there to see if anything has been added since their previous visit the last week or a few days ago.

My favourite part of the mall (a phrase I didn't think I'd ever use) is the product demonstrations. Sometimes it's for a vacuum packing machine that makes those ever-annoying bags of stuffed animals shrink down to half their size or the super cloths that soak up all the water in your bathtub and still have room for more. The announcers up on their pedestals never fail to interrupt themselves to greet the people walking by with "Hello ma'am" or "Hello sir". Their promo speeches, like most conversation in the Philippines, is spoken in Taglish- a mix between English and the national language of Tagalog. So to me, it sounds something like this, “blah blah blah very absorbent blah blah blah today only blah blah blah plastic handle blah blah.” It’s a little thing but it makes me giggle whenever I hear it, not just in the malls.

My least favourite part of shopping here are the constant reminders of terrorism. In every mall entrance and in most store entrances within the mall, you get into the female or male line and proceed through the guard who swipes you and your bag with a sensor or pokes a stick into your bag to look for bomb components (or both). Their table has a print out of common bomb parts to make identifying them easy for the guard. Even restaurants ask their patrons to keep their weapons at the door with security personnel (is this Texas?) This kind of security might make some people feel safer but for me it just reminds me of the potential threat of terrorism and makes me wish the guard would take a extra second or two looking in bags since it most often feels like just a formality and not a real search.

Let me just say that we are not in an unsafe neighbourhood. There are practically no tourists in this area and we are far away from the violent separatists in the south. Nevertheless this constant reminder of a threat looms and living in NYC has probably made us a little more sensitive to these things.

One final note before I head off into the heat of this mid-morning Monday. I am taken aback by the level of hospitality Filipinos have shown towards us. I found most people in Thailand to be very cheerful also (at least those that weren't totally jaded by tourism) but theirs was a quieter and more gentle friendliness. Everyone here is very friendly in an outgoing way. People in stores and restaurants are sincerely eager to make you happy and even guards greet you with a smile and “welcome”. Based in no way on scientific measures, I would say that in my experience, this is the friendliest country I have been to in Asia.

tothesea,
k~*

manila folder

It's difficult to focus on a post under these circumstances. Gun shots, men shouting "Go, Go, Go" and sounds of people falling to their death are all around me. But this is no battlefield in Vietnam in the 60's or field around Phnom Penh in the 70's.. this is an internet cafe in a large Manila shopping mall in the year 2002. Young men around me, presumably here together, are yelling and laughing to one another over the loud barrage of gunshots. They are playing Max Payne, a brutal and bloody shoot-em-up game that I have come to know from my brothers who eat this kind of stuff up. Personally, the game gives me motion sickness and other kinds of sicknesses that I won't go into here.

There is only one other girl in the room and she is on the internet like me. She has headphones on and is singing some Top 40 hit at the top of her lungs. I also have headphones on in a futile attempt to block the noise but I have landed on an online classical music station and it's really hard to sing along with Bach.

We arrived here in Manila yesterday. We had a one day layover in Bangkok which we whiled away at the weekend "Chatuchak" market. We had made one previous visit with Aaron months ago but reserved all our buying for Saturday since we knew we would have that day in Bangkok and a better grasp at how fast the travel funds are dwindling. Our shopping limit was US$200 and although we tried, we didn't go anywhere near spending that amount. It wasn't at all difficult to find things to buy and we
stocked up on some beautifully crafted ceramic bowls and chopsticks sets along with other housewares and gifts for you back home... but it's really difficult to spend a large amount of money when you're bargaining for everything with the help of Magi's mom (who won't take "that's my final price" for an answer) and getting great deals left and right! It was a blast, especially knowing that we would only have to carry the purchases as far as Manila from where Magi's parents will bring them back to the US.

I have never been to L.A. but Manila is what I would imagine it to look like (complete with the thick layer of smog that you can see in the distance). After we settled in Magi's parents condo and they arrived a few hours later on a different flight, they took us for a walk around the neighbourhood. This area, Makati City, is full of new, very nice restaurants with trendy names and stores for the ultra-chic consumer. I could hardly believe my eyes, I felt like I had been transported to somewhere other than the Asia I have come to know and love. We had a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant where our waiter continued to fill the plate in the middle of the table with warm, fresh rosemary foccacia (complete with balsamic vinegar and olive oil I might add).

Magi's parents are in the process of moving to another condo so we're helping them move their things down the street today. Tonight Magi and I will stay in the new place while her parents remain in the current condo. We have two weeks to explore this 7,100 island nation but I'm sure we'll be back many, many times for more.

I wish I had a poppy to wear for Remembrance Day... but the day is on my mind nevertheless.

tothesea,
k~*

a few days in Cambodia

We've spent a few days in Seam Riep, Cambodia, which is not enough time to get a real grasp of what the country is like but enough to get a feeling for it. Our time here has been centred around seeing Angkor Wat which some of you may know as the ancient Hindu ruins of Cambodia and others of you may know it as the shooting location for Tomb Raider. As far as piles of rocks go, they are pretty incredible and being highly dedicated to no sleep at times, we were witness to both the sunrise and the sunset at ruins yesterday. Our favorite temple was overgrown with ancient mile-high trees and it made you feel as though you were discovering something for the first time (minus the tour buses and foot paths).

However, I tend towards modern history when it comes to where my interests lie, and Cambodia does not disappoint. The legacy of the Vietnam war in Cambodia and the subsequent terror of the Pol Pot regime in the 1970's are the kind of things history book authors lust after and that make humanitarians ache.

For those of you who don't know, the Khmer Rouge and their leader Pol Pot took control of Phnom Penh (the capital) two weeks before the Vietnamese Communists took Saigon. They quickly instituted their leader's harsh idealism of reverting the country back to a agrarian utopia. People were pushed from the cities into the countryside to work on farms and everyone considered an intellectual (ie. those who wore glasses or spoke a foreign language) was jailed and most were later brutally murdered and put into the mass graves now known as the Killing Fields.

The so-called Killing Fields are near Phnom Penh (about five hours away) but there is a small memorial set up outside Siem Reap and we went to visit it yesterday. It is situated in a Buddhist temple complex and consists of a medium sized stupa whose middle has been hollowed and left with tall windows. In the windows you can see a waist-high pile of skulls, bones, and clothing fragments that were retreived from the killing fields and brought to Siem Reap as a reminder of the atrocity. A nearby sign pleads for a donation asking you, the tourist, to help them build a proper monument memorializing the atrocity that the world stood by and did nothing about.

It was a little surreal to step out of the car at the monument and be surrounded by a hoard of small school children peddling postcards and bamboo flutes, these poor children are the legacy of Pol Pot's regime. We were uncertain as to whether they understood what the monument stood for but certainly it will be clear to them one day.

Not surprisingly, the great majority of people here are young. The same was true for Vietnam but you couldn't say in all honesty that to see an older person was rare. Here I think you can say that. Another legacy of this countries modern history is that Cambodia still suffers 100-300 injuries from landmines every month. They are literally everywhere and so are the injured. I think the statistic is something like one in 236 people in this county have lost a limb due to landmines, most of whom are children who mistake the mines for toys (and in some cases, stuffed animals or dolls were placed on top of the mines so that children would grab them and be hurt).

It's not an easy country to be in. But there are faint glimmers of hope that make you feel that Cambodia's future will be brighter. I'm off to look for some of those now.

tothesea,
k~*

saigon kick

“Like a bunch of evil devils, the American enemies killed women and children….”

So began our tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels. We were seated in a small outside auditorium where we watched a very old and rudimentary black and white documentary on the significance of the people in the Cu Chi area before, during, and after the war. The quote from above is directly from the film, I couldn’t make this stuff up. Using a lot of this very strong language the film detailed the “heroic struggles of the peaceful villagers” as they took up arms and went underground to fight the US.

The Cu Chi tunnels are a 250 km network of underground tunnels used by the Viet Cong during the war. The clear highlight of our group tour to the tunnels this morning was having the opportunity to crawl in the tunnels for about 50 metres. I went first of the tourists but second behind the tunnel guide who quickly squatted down and shuffeled his way through the narrow passages. He did take the time to stop before turning another corner to signify to me the direction he was going. I must have looked ridiculous behind him, slowly crawling on my hands and knees. When I first entered the tunnels I was intrigued but soon I felt a great sense of claustrophobia when one turn turned into another passage into another turn and again and again. It was probably the longest fifty metres of my life. The tunnels are hot, dark, filthy and, depending on your size, practicually hug you while you are in the crawling position (as is evidenced by the number of dirty backs you saw when you climbed out of the tunnel and looked at your fellow tourists). I can hardly imagine spending ten minutes down there, let alone ten years. It gave me a new appreciation for the brillance and cunning of the Viet Cong and the absolute determination they had in winning the war. A more grisly part of the tour was the showcase of booby traps fixed with spikes that were used. It seems they had one made for the intent of harming each part of the body and some were given names such as the “hamburger trap” and the “souvenir trap” (the latter one because you had to have it surgically removed, I won’t detail why). Lunch consisted of tapioca cane with sugar to dip it in and tea and is a meal the guide says the Viet Cong lived on for ten years.

Though the tour reeked of propoganda it was no surprise to us because it seems most of the museums, art galleries, and monuments In Vietnam are designed to demonstrate what champions of war the Vietnamese Communists are. Of course, it is true that they fought and defeated the French in the first Indochinese war and the Americans in the second and that both of these feats are quite amazing. However, the horror shown is so biased and they never mention the pain that they themselves inflicted on their own people and the people of the Southern armies. But then again, why would they?

Considering the hard feelings that the government still seems to hold against the U.S., I think it’s ironic that the American dollar is just as common a currency in Vietnam as the dong. Prices are most often given in both and the choice is yours to spend as you wish. You could travel all you want in Vietnam and never lay hands on the Vietnamese currency. It has nothing to do with the war, the US dollar is simply more stable… but still it seems strange. Something that I can’t figure out is how a free market society works under a Communist regime.. can anyone explain this to me?

So let me take you back a few days. Prior to our stop in Saigon, we spent some time in the central part of the country and specifically in Hue and Danang. Because Danang was the initial landing spot for both the French and the Americans (remember the show China Beach?), it was completely devastated by the effects of war. What’s left is a charmless city of deteriorating concrete building and crumbling sidewalks with a generation of people missing (2/3 of Vietnam’s people are under 25 so the latter part is very much the case all over the country). People don’t smile much, at least at foreigners (who can blame them?) and the overall feeling of the rainy region is depressing. Hue is an ancient city, once the centre of life during the Nguyen Dynasty. The old town has an expansive Imperial City that was designed after the Forbidden City in Beijing. Of course, this too was heavily showered with bombs during the wars and what’s left now is a walled-in section of crumbling ruins. On the outskirts of town there are several tombs from the Nguyen Dynasty and we went to visit a few of them on a particularly rainy day. When you walk in and around the huge tomb complexes you feel temporarily as though you have stepped back into another time… but then you round the corner and see yet another crummy showcase of dusty trinkets and warm Coca-Cola for sale and all you can do is sigh. The central area of the country is altogether in ruins, understandably, and it provides you with a tremendous contrast and perhaps a greater appreciation of the wonderful cities of Hanoi and Saigon.

One word on Saigon. When the war ended in April of 1975 and the Communists gained control of Saigon, they changed the name of the city to Ho Chi Minh City after their communist hero and comrade. “Uncle Ho” (as he is often sentimentally referred as) is a story in and of himself so I won’t go into him much only so say that his name was self-bestowed and means “He Who Enlightens”. Saigon or Sai Gon (in Vietnamese language each syllable is a new word) is still what the city is commonally referred to as, at least in the south. In the north they proudly call it by its full name or HCMC. There seems to be a distinct rivalry between the north and the south that you pick up on when you talk to people about the most mundane things, such as weather. In Hanoi (or Ha Noi) I was asked by a woman working at our hotel if I was going to HCMC and when I answered yes, she said with negativity, “Oh, it is very, very hot there.” I replied with “We have had very nice and cool weather in Hanoi” and she smiled, looked at me and said, “Thank you.”

I feel the same way here as I did when I was in Berlin. I have this overwhelming awe about the place. Finally travelling in a place that I have only read about and seen in (countless) movies gives me tremendous satisfaction because I have a sense now of the real Vietnam and how it has survived (and not) in the aftermath of such a triumphant and tragic history.

Sigh.

tothesea,
k~* (I shall remove Magi's initial from posts from now on because it's silly to write "I" and "me" in the post and then have it be signed by us both.. it's no secret that I'm the author of these posts since Magi is overcome with shyness when it comes to these things. But have it be known that though she refuses to write any posts she does edit them all and claims that they also reflect her thoughts of her time here... at least most of the time.)

p.s. Does anyone remember the band Saigon Kick from the 80's? What was with Hanoi Rocks and Saigon Kick? Were they rival bands or something? Were either of them not American? Oh, strange decade. (It must be pretty evident that I have been waiting this whole trip to use these band names as post titles.. have it be known that they are the only reason I came to either of these cities. HeeHee.)

hanoi rocks

We left a package in the Bangkok airport of things we didn't want to carry through Indochina. In the bag I put a book I have been devouring ever since opening it and reading the first page. The book is called The Girl in the Picture by Denise Chong and is about Kim Phuc, a young villager in South Vietnam who was hit by a burning ball of napalm during the "American War" (as the Vietnamese call it) and photographed shortly afterwards as she was running away. The photograph was instrumental in increasing the protest against American involvement in the war. I left the book in Bangkok because I was nervous that the Vietnamese officials would take it away from me, or worse- that I would get in trouble for carrying it. Though the bomb was dropped by the South Vietnamese army in a freak accident, the book details the struggles that many South Vietnamese endured at the hands of the Viet Cong. Moreover, Kim Phuc has defected and now lives in Toronto (the author of the book is from Ottawa) and defectors from Communist countries are not usually celebrated in their native land (no kidding). To see the famous photograph that won a Pulitzer Prize and read a good, short article about Kim Phuc by the photographer Nick Ut click here. (I highly recommend the book to anyone who is interested in learning much more, not only about Kim Phuc but about life in Vietnam before, during, and after the war.)

When we landed at the airport I was expecting something a little more...um... soviet. Instead we were greeted by a huge, modern airport and an array of smiling (gasp!) immigration officials. Our bags were not searched and I groaned to myself because I could have kept the book with me. The taxi driver sang and honked his way into the city along a road we shared with cows and their whipping masters, bicycles, motorcycles, and some huge trucks whose drivers were completely ignoring the fact that there were others on the road. The (mostly) paved road was surrounded on both sides with wide expanses of green fields and people with broad conical hats tilled the soil and plucked vegetables from the ground to put in large wicker baskets.

I'm surprised to find we have CNN, MTV, and BBC in our hotel. Excuse my ignorance but aren't Communist countries cold, totalitarian, and closed to outside influence? I really began to forget we were in a Communist country until we went to a couple of museums today. First we went to "The Women's Museum" which is Vietnamese "herstory" told in a series of exhibitions and photographs. The museum was surprisingly well put together and the displays were explained well and wonderful to look at (by comparison the Laos National Museum in Vientiane was a pitiful and dusty array of artifacts in cases without explanations). The second museum we went to used to be the Hoa Lo prison and was built by the French to house Vietnamese rebels during their occupation and was later used in the American War to keep American POWs and consequently dubbed "The Hanoi Hilton". Propagandistic phrases such as "the American aggressors and their lackeys" and referring to the Communist revolution as "the struggle" were commonplace in both museums. In the Women's Museum, a lot of time was given to the heroic roles women played in "the struggle"- everything from cooking meals for soldiers to bearing arms themselves. The Hoa Lo Prison museum was quite moving as you were able to walk in and out of the cells where the walls were lined with wooden slabs as beds and fixed with shackles for each male prisoner (but in contrast, the women's cells were just concrete rooms with nowhere to sleep). The text on the walls in the prison museum detailed where the national heroes were housed and referred to them in passionately brave terms but the Americans were described as "the enemy" (which they were but the language seemed too harsh and biased). The propaganda here is quite striking but I can't say that it feels much different than watching Bush give pep talks about bombing Saddam on CNN.

Tonight we went to a performance at the Water Puppet Theatre. It was quite bizarre but interesting. The puppets are manipulated by poles held by people who stand in thigh-deep water behind a screen. The music that accompanied the performance was wonderful though we had no idea what was going on in the story that was played out with puppets as people, fish, dragons, and a tortoise.

Hanoi is hectic, colourful, and unique. Crossing the streets is cause enough for an ulcer. In the first 24 hours of being here, we've already witnessed three accidents. We leave tomorrow for Hue and that's probably a good thing because chances are we'll be struck by a scooter if we linger in this town any longer.

tothesea,
k&m

p.s. Does anyone remember the band Hanoi Rocks from the 80s? Nah, didn't think so.
p.p.s. Happy Halloween!

watching women weave

Laos is a country I knew practically nothing about a few days ago. I knew it was a small, land-locked country with five neighbours: China, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, and Myanmar. Of course, all you need is a basic atlas for that. We learned from Trish that the “s” in the country’s name is not pronounced. And our friend Zsolt told us it was his favourite stop in South-East Asia (despite the bedbugs) and his descriptions of it made it the most highly anticipated stop on our trip for Magi. Aside from that, I was pretty much clueless.

In a matter of a few days, I have come to learn a lot about Laos. Much of it I learned from reading the Laos history book that the hotel provided us and the guidebooks that Magi’s parents brought. Much of the Laos history provokes deep sympathy because these people have endured so much suffering at the hands of both their neighbours and foreign countries. Their recent history is the most disturbing but maybe because it is so tangible.

Here’s a very brief briefing of the history as I understand it: The French colonization in the late 1880’s did little to economically help a country who was already one of the poorest in the world. At the time, only a small percent of the country engaged in work where money changed hands and it is even said that many people in the villages did not even know of the existance of Laos, the country.

The country reluctantly gained Independence in 1945 and struggled to rebuild itself. They didn’t have much time to grow before the war in Vietnam began. During those years, the U.S. was waging a secret war in Laos and dropped, on average, one bomb every eight minutes for eight years (much of these explosives are still live and they litter the countryside making it very dangerous for residents). As a consquence of the war, Laos has the distinction of being the most heavily bombed country in the world. At the time, the U.S. claimed it was to protect Laos from the Communist threat of Northern Vietnam. It is widely known now that they were really fighting the already-present leftist government that was becoming increasingly popular in Laos. The U.S. even went so far as to arm and pay hilltribe people who were historic rivals of the ruling people to fight against them as it was easier to keep the war in Laos secret if Americans were not losing their lives. Since the war, Laos has been in turmoil. The book in the hotel was quite old and bragged that the government had managed to keep the kip balanced at an exchange rate of 720 against the U.S. dollar in 1992 and 1993. The value of the kip has since fallen to 10,780 kip to one dollar. One can only imagine how the economy has suffered as a result.

Today, the socialist country called Laos People’s Democratic Republic (or Lao P.D.R.) is home to nearly six million people, 60% of whom are Buddhist. The average person makes US$385 a year and most people speak Lao and/or French.

To walk along the charming and dusty streets of Luang Prabang today, one could completely ignore history and see only the broad smiles and cheerful manner of the people here who seem to have come from a long line of ancestors who have endured no hardships. Women sit on the sidewalks, roasting small, fat bananas in the sun and children in school uniforms laugh and shout as they play another game of badminton. Foreigners crowd the cafes who devour the French legacy of crepes and french bread while in nearby villages, women sit at their looms creating intricately designed textiles for use as wall-hangings and clothing (by government decree, Lao women must wear local textiles which keeps the industry alive).

Yesterday we visited a number of villages near Luang Prabang. We watched in awe as women worked at their looms and saw how other villagers make homemade paper from saa (mulberry) pulp, flowers, and leaves. We visited a town whose inhabitants are famous for making rice whiskey (but we ended up watching the women at the looms again). We also took a small wooden boat across the Mekong river to a series of caves that are filled with hundreds of glittering Buddha statues in all poses. There we made some wishes for auspiciousness by making a small donation and then taking a piece of paper with your desire on it. Though tourism is starting to rear its (sometimes) ugly head in Laos, it is nowhere near as touched as Thailand. When you go outside the towns you watch as villagers with round straw hats work in the fields and you feel like you are witnessing an authentic Laos. Can you tell I am in love with this place?

We took a rather nail-biting ride on a Lao Aviation plane this morning and arrived in Vientiane (the capital) at lunch time. The U.S. warns travellers against using this airline because of their safety record but despite our better judgment we took the plunge and lived to tell about it. The plane was definitely shop-worn and when the a/c was turned on in the plane, it appeared through the vents and cracks of the plane in the form of thick, white mist. I wondered if it wasn’t actually clouds coming in! Thank goodness it was only a half-hour ride and I shouldn’t grumble because it saved us from having to take an even more ancient bus for ten hours.

tothesea,
k&m

your rubber dollars

This is my last post from Thailand. We are flying out tomorrow to begin our very short trek through Indochina- Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. I'll do my best to keep you posted throughout Indochina but it's going to be a whirlwind of a trip and I may not have much free time.

We've already been talking about our next trip to Thailand. As far as I'm concerned it's one of the best countries in the world to travel to. It has everything from the most luxuriously decorated temples to the most remote white sandy beaches... terrific cuisine and wonderful, friendly people. Best of all, for a young traveller, it is so inexpensive that almost everything you could want to see or do is within your financial means.

I have been asked by a few people about costs in Asia and just how far a dollar can stretch. So let me explain it this way: in Thailand for $500 Canadian (or about $375 US) you can buy yourself ALL of the following:

- 10 Thai massages
- 10 Meals at May Kaidees
- 25 cups of brewed coffee (Nescafe is more popular and inexpensive.. but it's nasty)
- 10 bags of chopped, fresh fruit (pineapple, guava, mango, papaya.. your choice)
- 100 bottles of mineral water
- 6 bootlegged CDs
- 1 henna tattoo
- 4 movie theatre tickets
- 1 scooter rental for one day
- 1 day of scuba diving (2 dives)
- 1 bungy jump
- and.. as you can go to as many temples as you wish (most are free or by donation only)

So what are you waiting for?

tothesea,
k&m

thanks for the memories

We are now two.

Aaron sat down to chat with a neat-o Finnish lass as our songthaew pulled away from Chan-Cha-Lay guesthouse in Krabi. I cried all the way to the bus depot! It was sad to leave him behind. My emotional state wasn't helped by my brain which was doing this mean thing to me where it would display vignettes of our time together with Aaron in slow motion as sappy music played... something you would see done on a soap opera or sit-com. It was the beginning of a pretty blue day in Krishnaland.

Overnight bus rides may be my least favourite part of travelling. Of course, some are better than others and others are made worse by having a seat that is broken and does not recline. Others are also made worse by a seven-year-old child in the seat ahead of you who needs her seat reclined to it's fullest, chopping you in half somewhere around the mid-torso. Fourteen hours later at 6 in the morning, Bangkok greets you with a whack as you step off the bus into a crowd of tuk-tuk drivers competing for your fare even after you've told them you're walking.

I swore last night it was going to be my last overnight bus ride, EVER. I can't say I'll be able to live up to that promise to myself and even now I'm beginning to forget the misery I was wallowing in last night. We treated ourselves today to a cleaning of laundry, facials, various waxing jobs, and a bowl of May's cooking that made us feel a little happy to be back in familiar territory... at least for a little while.

One thing I thought about on the bus last night as I watched those around me doze in relative comfort is the three things from home I miss most. Many things popped in my head but I narrowed it down to the three things I miss the absolute most. So, aside from the dogs and people I love and autumn in Canada, I miss the following terribly:

- Soy Delicious brand ice cream
- The prospect to paint on canvas
- The Simpsons

I was thinking of my ideal first evening back home. I would eat the Soy Delicious while watching The Simpsons for a few hours. Then I would switch on the stereo (another thing I miss) and begin the most inspired painting of my life. I would end the day with some Tofutti Cuties, a hot bubble bath, and then hours and hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Something to dream about tonight...

tothesea,
k&m

P.S. Aaron! We miss you....

sawasdee Krabi... again

Yesterday we left for beautiful Ton Sai beach and I can hardly believe that only a day later we are all back in the sleepy fishing village of Krabi. We had originally planned to stay In Ton Sai for three nights but ended up leaving Krabi a day late due to some extremely long and powerful monsoon shower that didn't let up long enough for us to leave. Yesterday we managed to pack up and leave Krabi in the morning, allowing plenty of time to catch the songthaew to Ao Nang beach and hire a longtail boat to Ton Sai. Upon arrival we dragged our feet (heavy from the weight of our backpacks) while Aaron limped his way up a narrow dirt road to a cluster of bungalows from which we would choose our nights accomodation. Two places had been recommended to us and we happened upon Green Valley Resorts first. (Dream Valley had been recommended to us but we assumed Aaron's friend had mistook the name and had actually meant Green Valley.) We checked into a room and rested briefly, sweating profusely. Almost immediately Magi emerged from the bathroom in full swim gear (her outfit of choice more often than not) and insisted we get our butts in gear and follow her to the beach. It didn't take much convincing.

Later we stumbled upon Dream Valley Bungalows and had to laugh. In Thailand it is very common for guesthouses near a popular guesthouse to make their name very similar to the one that is popular. This way they will lure in people who think they are going to the right place. In Green Valley's case this motive worked on us perfectly. In the end though we were very happy with where we stayed- the people were super friendly and accomodating and the food was good and not too expensive.

Aaron attempted a little climb yesterday, just to test out his gimpy foot. The prognosis was not good. The whole reason we had worked our way to Ton Sai was because it is an incredibly beautiful and challenging place to rock climb. I can't put into words what those rocks look like and I have never climbed but I must say that the rocks made me a little envious of those who do (minus the extreme physical exertion). They are very smooth limestone, pitted with random holes that would make climbing ideal. It really looks like indoor climbing walls have been designed after the rock faces at Ton Sai and the way they jut out of the crystal blue water is just breath-taking. One note: in a restaurant in Ton Sai we got to see our first episode of Survivor this season. If any of you are watching Survivor you have probably seen what I'm talking about when I describe Ton Sai. It looks almost exactly like what you see on that show because it was taped on a nearby island.

By the end of the day around a bed of dice playing Yahtzee we had all decided to leave the next day. The beach at Ton Sai isn't great and there is nothing to do in the village except attempt to stop the sneaky hoards of mini-me mosquitoes that feast on your blood. Plus, there is no point in staying in a town where even a bottle of water is almost 3 times the amount you would spend anywhere else. It's very pricey and only worth it if you're staying to climb. Aaron can't climb so he's heading to Malaysia as we load a bus to Bangkok tomorrow afternoon.

On our way back to Krabi we saw something that we've heard about but hadn't seen until today- Americans disguised as Canadians. We met a couple of guys in a songthaew with Canadian flags on their bags. As I got on I noticed the patches and asked them where they were from. Sheepishly, as though we had caught one of them with their hand in the cookie jar, one of the guys said "Connecticut" and then promptly began to explain that they wear the flags "just as a precaution" and so that their mom wouldn't worry about them. I think it's a rather strange custom some Americans have taken to but we've heard they feel like they are treated better and worry less about negative attention. Whatever works!

Oh, the belly aches. Travelling can reek havoc on a gut. My belly has been playing very mean tricks on me for the last week. It will tell me I'm feeling fine, and growl to me that it's hungry, hungry, hungry! So I'll eat and then feel like someone is digging their fingers into my stomach and pressing hard down in it, over and over again. So I've been taking it easy and eating only steamed rice. Blah! I'm so sick of steamed rice. I have to be better by the time we get to Bangkok so I'll be ready for three hearty meals a day at our favourite restaurant, May Kaidees!

tothesea,
k&m

Pooh-poohing Phi Phi

We spent last night on the tiny island of Phi Phi Don ("Pee Pee Don"). It's twin island in the near distance, Phi Phi Leh, is home to Maya Bay where The Beach was filmed (it is a "protected" island so there are no guesthouses there, but as you boat by you see hoards of diving and snorkelling boats cluttering up the water making it look less-than-protected). Consequently, the twin islands have now become a tourist mecca (oh! to touch the sand Leonardo Dicaprio touched!) and I am therefore left with very strong mixed reactions to the place. On one hand, it is a majestic paradise. Huge limestone cliffs jut out of the crystal blue water and are dotted with bright green trees. Coconut trees line the beaches whose soft, white sand sticks to your wet feet like flour. We breathlessly exclaimed to one another as our ferry to Phi Phi was going by Phi Phi Leh that it is one of the most beautiful landscapes we have ever seen. On the other hand, Phi Phi is a sad reminder of the destruction of tourism. It must have been an incredibly special place to the people who inhabited the place before tourists conquered it. Now, the small island is littered with upscale resorts and large clusters of bungalows, stores hawking useless junky souvenirs, restaurants serving bad and expensive food, and of course, a 7-11 greets you as you exit the dock upon arrival. Piles of garbage rot in background and unhealthily tanned European men find it appropriate to walk through town in their speedos (too much information fellas!) and the ladies aren't wearing much more. The saddest part, for me, was seeing the Gibbon monkeys that were on display for tourists. One was only twenty-one days old the proud owner told everyone who walked by. She was feeding the baby with a bottle (probably filled so inappropriately with cow's milk) and the little creature without it's full body of hair yet clinged to her shirt the way I'm sure it clinged to her mother's chest and back before they killed her and stole her baby.

Phi Phi really made me question tourism and made me see some forms of tourism as some kind of new colonialism. Tourists and the guidebooks find an unspoilt place, move in and start building until it is super overdeveloped... and then what? I wonder what Phi Phi will look like in five, ten, twenty years... will it just be an island full of run-down bungalows and hotels that no one travels to anymore? How will the environment there be changed? How will this affect the future generations of people and animals that live there?

Needless to say, we were really happy to leave Phi Phi today though we have all come out of it changed a little. Thankfully, it was only a stopover point for us on our way here, to the province of Krabi ("Crabby", just like it looks) where we are going to live out the next week of our trip. This is where we will part with Aaron and where he will spend the next month or so, so we're going to make sure he is in a good place before we leave. We've checked in to a cute guesthouse in Krabi Town but will probably move out to one of the beaches before the week's end since that is where the rocks are to be climbed.

I wanted to write and tell you about the Thai massage I had as a birthday gift the other day, but it seems kind of weird to go into that after writing such a depressing post about Phi Phi. So I'll leave that for another time (maybe the next time I get a massage because I am planning on at least one more before we leave Thailand).

tothesea,
k&m

Happy Thanksgiving to the Canadians in the hoose

That's pretty much all I wanted to blog about today. I meant to send those greetings yesterday but forgot. It's hard to remember the onset of winter when it's blazing hot here everyday... or perhaps it's my age now that I am in my late twenties.

Today we went to see a Thai movie called Mekhong Full Moon Party. It was a heartwarming tale starring a monk and his templemates. We were disappointed that it wasn't about a beach party full of obliterated foreigners (joking) but I guess it would have been called Ko Phang Nga Full Moon Party if that was the story (little bit of inside humour for you there). One thing about moviegoing here that I meant to mention is that before the movie starts, a photo montage of the king is played on screen and everyone is expected to pay homage to him by standing up. In the background is music that the king himself composed. It's a uniquely Thai experience, kind of neat. The king really only has a symbolic role in the country (which has a democratically elected government) but like Queen E II, he is an important figurehead and people do respect him deeply and look to him for guidance in periods of trouble. Large (really large) photos of him and the queen line the main roads in Bangkok but the photos are mostly of the queen who seems to be even more favoured than the king (?).

We leave Phuket tomorrow morning and today is the last day of the vegetarian festival. We have all had an amazing time here and have witnessed some incredible things. Maybe we'll all be back next year... we'll come for the food but stay for the projectiles.

tothesea,
k&m

they say it's my birthday

My birthday started out really wet. We stood outside watching the morning procession walk by as the rain poured and poured. Nothing new was poked through the cheeks today except for large clumps of black yarn creatively put into each cheek and pulled out through the mouth resembling a typical Confucian beard. We took a songthaew to the beach and had a good dollop of Indian food (my birthday wish) and a big mug o' Starbucks (the first we have seen in Asia).

Today was okay fun but didn't beat Aaron's birthday... which I declared that day I would consider my birthday too since we all did bungy and had a perfect day at the beach.

I'm excited about being 27.

Just a short note for today. You probably have some catching up to do.

tothesea,
k&m

happy things and more grisly details

I put my earplugs in before bed last night and could hear the sound of firecrackers reverberating in my ears. This morning the same noise woke me up but it was coming from the street outside. I jumped up and in usual fashion, turned the light on and yelled something to those still semi-conscious.

We rubbed our eyes and rushed downstairs to see the street procession of the temple nearest us, the Jui Tui Temple, which we refer to as "our temple". It was much like the others but lasted much longer. Everyday we add to the list of things we see pierced through someone's cheeks and no longer are the pierced only men. By now we have seen many women and even teenagers with objects through their cheeks. Today, shoved through large holes in cheeks we saw: candles, a life-size plastic toy machine gun, handcuffs, a ceiling fan, umbrellas, a cluster of prayer beads, vegetables with their stems, a florescent light tube, hacksaws, bunches of plastic/real flowers, chains, and a lantern. Noteworthy are the microphone stand and badminton rackets we saw through cheeks yesterday. Needless to say, the whole event is really unnerving because those pierced look very uncomfortable and burdened. Their helpers cluster around them with tissue to sop up drool and blood and to give them small drinks of water. Afterall, they walk through the streets for hours in this state. Sometimes I think us spectators must all go into a shallow state of shock when we see these things, or our minds force us to look at them as if it's not real (especially the children who are watching). I'm pretty certain I will never, ever see something like this again.

For all of us, the early morning processions are the most interesting but we're still intrigued by our festival calendar that lists other tantalizing events. Last night we set out to witness the fire-walking. It began at our temple where a huge gathering was setting out to run through the streets led by the usual brand of priests in colourful garb and their white-clad entourages. We ran with the procession for a while until I freaked out. You see, people line the streets and toss firecrackers at the procession (or more precisely, the people in it) to ward off evil spirits. You literally have to jump over them and run fast enough to outrun someone who is about to toss it at you, all the while holding your ears to spare your drums. Call me a prude, but I wasn't too into that and we were all really annoyed by the constant loud cracking sounds. I ducked into an alley, followed close behind by Magi and Aaron. We then figured out how to get through this without getting our hair singed and ear drums blown out. It was simple, we left the procession and walked directly to the mini-field where the firewalking was to be held. There was a large area gated off for specators. Inside was a large-ish patch of hot ash that about a dozen men in white were tending to. We waited and waited as the crowd began to swell. A large brown cockroach walked it's own little procession over Aaron's feet. We waited and waited some more. The event was now two hours late. Magi and I gave up waiting and then as we were walking away (of course) it all began. We stood in the back and watched. Aaron stayed up in front. It was very anti-climatic after all that waiting. We met Aaron back at the guesthouse and he told even children were able to walk over it and that he would have if we were there to take his picture!

Tonight we went to another event, the bladed-ladder climbing. What it was, as you may have guessed, is a ladder whose rungs are made of "razor-sharp" blades. There were about thirty rungs on either side of the ladder and those who attempted the feat had to step on them all. We watched, expecting to see something gruesome, but in the end we didn't even spy a cut. I think maybe a lot of this self-mortification is more symbolic than anything; so far only the street processions have really wrenched our stomachs. Still, just the carnivalesque atmosphere around all these events is pretty interesting in itself.

We've been in Phuket for quite a while now. Slowly a pattern is developing in what we do on a day-to-day basis. Our days consist of either: the morning procession, festival food, movie theater chill, shopping for "The Dog" items, time on the internet, and late night talks or: the morning procession, festival food, Magi and Aaron playing in the surf at the beach while I cross-stitch on the sidelines and go for a dip now and then, time on the internet, and late night talks. Tough life, I know. There is nothing but self-pity going on here.

Note on "The Dog" stuff: You probably all know that Magi and I are a little keen on canines. Well, there's this brand over here called "The Dog" and what it is is a variety of items; from an immense variety of bags to notebooks to cellphone holders to keychains to t-shirts to cigarette cases to pens to hair ties to stickers to wallets to charms to stuffed animals to coin purses to erasers to (okay, okay, you get the point).... all with a picture of different breed on them (sadly the breeds are limited to about ten or fifteen). But it's not just any picture, it's a picture angled as if you are looking down on the dog, so the head is really big (and cute) and the body is really small. Everyday we see different The Dog items and not buying them is a little like being tortured. So we have indulged every now and then but we always look through all the store's selection first. Aaron is so bored of looking at The Dog stuff that he cringes whenever we are about to pass by a shop or booth selling the stuff but he doesn't know we feel the same way whenever he walks by a DVD/VCD rack! So nuts to him!

Magi has added a new phrase to her vocabulary, prounouced "Dichan poon pasa tai maidai" which means "I do not speak Thai." Locals always get a gleam in their eye when they see her with us, as if they are thinking "Phew, at least I'll be able to communicate with her, she's Thai people!" Magi is spoken to in Thai on an hourly basis. Until now, she's only been able to say "Uh, English?" or stand there with a blank look on her face while the people continue to chat her up. The odd time, she'll try the old "smile and nod" technique which just encourages them to talk more! With her new phrase she should be able to save herself from much confusion and embarrassment.

Goodnight, or goodmorning, to you all. Much love from all of us.

tothesea,
k&m

definitely not a day for the squeamish.

(Disclaimer: the following post may make you produce visuals you will not enjoy.)

I never thought that I would ever see a man walking down the street with an altered steering wheel pierced through his cheek. This was how our day began.

We woke up to the drumming sounds of a street procession outside. It was near the end so we didn't bother to peel our bodies up out of bed to see it. Each temple in Phuket has their own procession and we have the schedule so we knew this would not be our only chance. Instead we got ready and headed to a cafe for some good strong coffee. After our coffee and Aaron's birthday brownie were finished, a street procession (probably the same one) was working its way by the cafe. We went outside, sat on a stoop, and watched the people flow by. Mostly it consisted of large groups of people, wearing white, carrying colourful flags. However, every so often there was a man, who was in the midst of performing some act of self-mortification. We saw unimaginable things pierced through cheeks; from metal rods skewering foods, to the car steering wheel, to large swords. We also saw many men in the procession with large, narrow scars on their cheeks from years gone by. Aaron saw a man kneeling on the ground swinging a mace (a ball with nails sticking out of it) back and forth hitting his own back with it and another man with a knife drawing it back and forth upon his bloodied tongue. It was all very... gruesome. Yet, everyone was so calm and even those who were pierced were holding their projectiles and moving peacefully down the street with their entourage who was there to care for them.

Aaron and Magi's reaction was mostly awe. I'm much more squeamish and my stomach ached from seeing all that blood. I understand the purpose; they believe they are placing harm upon themselves to spare the town pain... but for an outsider it's hard to comprehend.

If you're interested in seeing some photos, I'm including a link to this website of a photographer's view of the festival. Some of the pictures are very graphic and close-up, be warned.

On to the rest of our day...

We hopped on a songthaew to Patong Beach but half way there we stopped at the Jungle Bungy Jump. Today is Aaron's 25th birthday and he wanted to celebrate by jumping off a platform 50 metres in the air. Sounded like fun. He was shaking nervous, but managed to pull it off gracefully. We sat and watched a few other people jump and played with the idea of jumping ourselves. At first Magi was dead set against going but I was feeling a little brave. Finally, we decided to jump.. tandem.

Everything was fine; the strapping of the ankles was okay, and even the little cage that pulls you up to 50 metres was fine. But when Magi and I had to hop over to the 2 foot wide platform from where we would then leap above a small body of water, I lost my nerve. To say the least. I wanted to cry like a wee baby! I almost did but the jump operator was looking me in the eye saying "Tell me you're ready, tell me you're ready!"

Magi turned into a brave soldier and without fear talked me back down to relative calmness. Then the dreaded words: "On the count of three... two... one... BUNGY!" I hugged on to Magi so tight and closed my eyes and screamed. Then, we must have leapt off the platform. I don't recall those few seconds. The first free fall is so scary and seems to last a long time. Then you bounce and freefall again, then you bounce and free fall again.... it really was great fun but I wouldn't do it again. I'm terrified of heights so I thought maybe this would be conquering my fear. Nope. I have been feeling the fear of standing on that platform all day. Just thinking of it makes me shudder.

We went to Patong Beach afterwards and played in the crashing surf. Aaron and Magi are so happy when they're in the water, they play games and we all toss each other about. It's a lot of fun for everyone. I was the partypooper today though because I stepped on something sharp and got two nice gashes in my big toe. I seem to be having not the best luck lately; yesterday I hit the top of my foot against a bamboo stick and had to pull out the much-bigger-than-a-splinter piece while blood started pooling. Good thing Aaron had his trusty first-aid kit. We also lost our camera to a waterfall yesterday. I can still see it plunging into the water in slow motion. We're not sure if it's salvagable but we can't turn it on or get it open and there's water in the display. We're not very optimistic.

As per Aaron's birthday request, we went to The Pizza Company for dinner. Large pizzas here are the equivalent of smalls at home so none of us are entirely full. We'll head out to the veg fest market again before bed. Magi has developed a rather unhealthy obsession with this one particular lady's unfried, made-before-your-eyes springrolls.

I want to mention one more thing. Yesterday we trekked out to the Gibbon Rehabilitation Project. It's concerned with reintroducing Gibbon apes to their natural habitat after they have been stolen from their mother (after killing her), sold as pets, and often used in bars to entertain patrons. It was really inspiring to see such a great project at work.

Happy Birthday Aaron! (though I can see you over there lip-syncing to Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer- man this place has some good tunage!)

tothesea,
k&m

no..make that 2 orders of vegetarian chicken feet please

What a great couple of days we have had. We're really enjoying our time at the festival. It is pretty amazing to enter a world where everything in sight can be devoured and where we are seeing so many new things! Being able to eat anything is obviously a luxury that you give up when you go veg so we have really forgotten what it's like to have such culinary freedom! But now, the streets are lined with all kinds of food vendors cooking up and dishing out a multitude of rice and noodle dishes with TVP or tofu, desserts, fresh fruits, and all kinds of delicious finger foods. And it's all totally veg so eating is absolutely brainless other than having to choose what stalls to eat from and whether to have dessert first, last, or instead of a main course!

Last night we went to the opening ceremony of the festival. It was simple, fairly short in length, and involved erecting a pole (which was a tree) covered in flags and gold leaf to invite the gods to the ceremony. We walked into the temple which was clouded with incense smoke, where everyone was in white (except for a few shameless tourists), and there were people going into trance-like states all around with the help of special priestesses who were waving flames all around them. Those already in trances were shouting in loud, quick bursts, making rapid hand gestures, dancing fanatically, and their eyes were shifting and uncontrolled. We kneeled down on the floor when the others did, stood when the others did, and cleared a path for those trancing when instructed to. Our eyes watered terribly from the heavy clouds of incense and eventually, we had to leave and watch the event from outside the temple (where we had a better view anyway). There were so many deafening firecrackers going off and we read that the louder they are, the better because they keep the evil spirits away. We all concurred after the fact that the whole event was pretty eerie and fantastic. We sat down at a food stall for a bite to eat and watched the hoards of people flood out of the temple. Then we talked about what event we would go to next!

Today we went to a Thai movie called "999-9999". We've seen trucks driving through town carrying a travelling billboard with the movie's ad painted on it and the trailer's sound blasting out of a loudspeaker. In Thai, the movie title sounds like "gow, gow, gow... gow, gow, gow, gow" and was played with a deep, scary voice and trembling music. So when Aaron went up to order the tickets he ordered them with that same voice and said "gow" all seven times. Oh what we find amusing! Anyway, it is a teen flick about a telephone number you can call to have any wish you want granted. There are all kinds of rules associated with the number and in the end you get your wish but also lose your life (always in a very brutal way). It was trashy entertainment and the plot was terribly flawed -we all enjoyed it immensely (in no small part due to the subzero temperature of the theatre)!

We really miss The Simpsons. We talk about different episodes and funny lines on a daily basis. One advance birthday request I have is that next time you write us or post in the guestbook, tell us which episode you last saw or just remind us of your favourite episode (if you watch it at all). Just so we can giggle about it. We're also spending some time wondering about Survivor this year since it was filmed right around where we are now. One of Aaron's friends sends us tempting emails hinting at the quality of this season's episodes. One other request is that if you watch it, don't be a spoiler!

Aaron's belly is rumbling (again). Who knew but the boy can EAT. Time to go.

Love,
k&m

the fire-walking, white-clothes wearing, tofu-eating party begins tomorrow

My goodness I'm posting a lot lately.... I just realized I'm somewhat of a chatterbox as of late. Well, as most of you head into the beginnings of winter, this is all just something to keep you thinking of warm, tropical places.

That brings me, and you, to Phuket ("poo-get"). We arrived here today after taking two of the standard government buses for a total of about five and a half hours . They differ from tourist buses in that they stop every, oh, 37 seconds to pick up the local crowd of military officers, school students, day trippers, next-town shoppers, and the odd weirdo who can't stop violently shaking his head. It's much more interesting than sitting amongst a large group of boisterous Israelis and stone-faced Germans (no offense, we are just using stereotypes to make a point). And it's a heck of a lot cheaper to boot.

The big annual Phuket Vegetarian Festival begins tomorrow but we've already had a sampling of what we're in for. Basically, I have a feeling it's going to be a big stuff-your-face-very-cheaply-and-love-it kind of week. I posted a list of the ten rules you're supposed to adhere to during the festival which all sounds a little weird if you think it's just a food-centred celebration. It gets even weirder when you find out that some of the more devoted participants in the festival pierce bamboo spears through their cheeks and walk through the street, walk on fire, bathe in hot oil, and climb ladders whose rungs are made of swords.

So what kind of crazy festival is this you ask? Well, this is what I have gathered from reading the broken English in the festival guide:
In 1825, a theatre troupe was travelling in the Phuket area. They all came down with a grave illness and to appease a couple of gods, they ate only vegetarian food for nine days and performed various acts of self-mortification for penance. After those nine days, the whole troupe was well again. They chalked it up to the diet they had maintained for that week and the acts they had performed and thus, the Vegetarian Festival began. The Festival is only celebrated by the Chinese community here (and us) and is held during the first nine days of the ninth lunar month of the Chinese calendar every year. We're heading out tonight to get some white clothes for Aaron and Magi (I came well-prepared to participate.. I bought some white fisherman's pants last night).

tothesea,
k&m

losing our religion

We went against our better judgment today and did two things we're not proud of.

The first shameful thing we did was travel to Myanmar to renew our Thai tourist visas. We didn't want to go to Myanmar because of the political situation there. Supporting a military regime is not our idea of responsible tourism. But this is how it happened:

We were heading out of Ko Tao yesterday and the girl at the counter of the dive shop asked us where we were going next. We had planned to work our way down to Malaysia very quickly to cross the border by the time Aaron's visa expired on Saturday. It was going to be a long, arduous trip and quite expensive. She told us that we could much more easily get over to Myanmar in a matter of hours and get our visas processed there. You see, Canadians and Americans can travel without a visa to Thailand for 30 days. After that period you only have to dip into any neighbouring country briefly and then reenter Thailand in order to be allowed another 30 days. There is no limit to the amount of times you can do this and no minimum time you have to spend in another country before you reenter.

The procedure to get our new stamp went like this:
First we had to get in a songthaew to one of the town's piers. A songthaew (pronounced song-taow) is basically a pickup truck used as a taxi. In the bed of the pickup are two long benches facing one another with a shelter built above them. You hail one, discuss price and destination with the driver and then head along the route picking up anyone else (and their fruit and chickens) who wants to board it along the way. Once we were at the pier we had to fill out a form and get an exit stamp in our passport. Then we bought boat tickets for the 15 minute ferry that takes you across the border onto an island in Myanmar. However, it's not just a regular island since it houses only a five-star resort and casino. When you leave the ferry you are at the Myanmar immigration station where you leave your passport and proceed up to the resort by minibus. We had about an hour and a half to spend there and let me tell you, we didn't experience a single ounce of Burmese (or Myanmarese?) culture. We bought a package of Dutch chocolate at the duty-free and played a couple of shoot-em-up video games. That was the extent of our visit to Myanmar. We caught the minibus back down to the dock, collected our newly stamped passports, and rode back to Thailand on the boat. Then we had to go back to Thai immigration and get an entry stamp which grants us another 30 days. All in all we didn't really give anything to the government of Myanmar except the joy of our presence. We didn't have to pay to spend the time there and the island isn't really Burma anyway. It's just a deal the resort has with the government of Thailand to help out travellers like us who are going there for the new stamp in our passport.

Our second moment of shame today was getting a ride back into town with a seedy Kiwi (no pun intended). Who are we, lowly budget travellers, to turn down a free ride? Okay, the guy was more of a chunky creep and not so seedy. He was absolutely non-threatening but he had a Thai "girlfriend" with him who was barely half his age and still in braces. This brings up my biggest problem with some tourists here. So often you see these nasty western guys with women that they have hired to be their escort and tour guide (because I'm sure they are SO interested in the culture!) It's just pathetic. I won't even get into the issue of the sex trade industry because that would make this post rather depressing and heavy. Anyway, there we were barely attempting small talk with this guy while his lady friend sat quietly in the front seat enjoying the music that was blasting out of the stereo, the Backstreet Boys no less. It was really awkward and I was glad when we got out of there. He had offered us a free ride to our next destination since he was going that way anyway, but we declined. So at least we have a little bit of dignity left in us.

Thankfully, we're back in Ranong. It's a great little town with two vegetarian restaurant stalls (quite a surprise for this area). Our hotel is spotless and we even get fresh towels and soap everyday (this means a lot to budget travellers in Asia). But alas, it's back on the road tomorrow. A traveller's life is never dull (or at least we would have you think that).

tothesea,
k&m

paradise left

We're now officially certified to dive anywhere in the world! It's pretty exciting to have that kind of license and we hope to make a few fun dives in other countries we're going to be stopping in along the way.

Our last two days of the course consisted of four deep dives to our maximum allowable depth of 18 metres. It wasn't all fun and games because we had a lot of skills left to demonstrate. Near the end of our second dive (at about 12 metres) we had to demonstrate that we could take out our regulators (the things that go in your mouth to provide the air) and breathe off of our "buddy"'s reg. We had demonstrated the same skill at about 3 metres so it shouldn't have been a problem. But I forgot the very important step of clearing out the water from the reg before sucking in. So, when I took air from Magi's reg I got a mouthful of water, couldn't figure out why, and then I panicked. I held my breathe (the most important rule of diving is to never hold your breath!) and tried to go up to the surface as I exhaled my last gasp of air. Jimmy held on to me and yelled something indecipherable then handed me the cleared reg. I sucked on that air like it was the best thing I had ever tasted and took about 10 deep breaths before I was feeling calm again. For a moment there I really felt like I was at the end, it was really scary. That sort of set the tone for the other dives we did, I was much more anxious while descending but that was all that went wrong. Magi had one of those lessons too, the kind you only have to do wrong once before learning never to do it that way again. You've probably got an idea of what a diver looks like when she steps off a boat. They take a long stride forward with one hand at their face holding their mask and reg on. Well, one part of that you can't see is that the vest you're wearing is full of air to keep you buoyant once you hit the water. Hence the name, it's called a BCD or Buoyancy Control Device. On our first entry, Magi forgot to put air in her BCD vest and plunged deeply with her really heavy scuba gear into the depths of the gulf of Thailand. When she got back to the surface of the water, she pledged her retirement from scuba forever. When she realized what she had done wrong, she felt much better and all the following entries were smooth and comfortable.

It's hard to put into words what it's like to be swimming along underwater watching the fishes and the coral and their environment simply exist. On one hand it's very peaceful and soothing to swim along in the relative quiet (when you breathe you sound a little like Darth Vader). On the other hand you have to remember to never stop inhaling and exhaling deeply and you have to continuously equalize your ears and try to remain neutrally buoyant so you can swim and so you don't disturb the underwater environment.
I think it must become much more of the former once you dive many dives. I'm so excited to have seen the fish we saw when we were out there. Just to name a few we saw blue spotted stingrays, clown fish, more barracudas, many schools of small tropical fishes, all kinds of coral and we were even attacked by a trigger fish. A triggerfish is a beautiful but big and territorial fish that isn't kind to strangers. We were warned about going into their space and knew that when Jimmy signaled a gun with his hand, he meant we were coming upon a trigger's home. Charlotte, a Brit from our group, didn't take kindly to this attack and went straight to the surface. Magi was quite scared I found out later but the rest of us were just kind of floating there, enjoying the art of the attack with our flippers out in front ready to protect ourselves. Eventually we worked our way out of trouble.

Everyday we were on Ko Tao the sun shined and both the wind and the water were warm. It was the closest thing to paradise that I have ever experienced. It was a very sad moment this morning to board the ferry and leave.

Tonight we're in the sleepy town of Ranong on the west coast. We arrived here today after taking a ferry from Ko Tao and then a minivan from Chumphon. We're only here for a few days before heading deeper south to Phuket.

Tomorrow is Emerson's FIRST birthday! Happy Birthday Cutie!
inthesea,
k&m

Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus

They say you never forget the first time you breathe underwater. I did it for the first time yesterday and must say I agree wholeheartedly.

We arrived on Ko Tao a few days ago. The boatride over was nothing like we had expected. Silly me, I was expecting the overnight ferry would be like the one that you take when you ride over to Newfoundland- the big oceanliner type that would be complete with restaurants, sleeper berths with attached bathrooms, and a local band playing some tunes. Well, it was much more rudimentary than that. In fact, all it was was a small fishing boat full of supplies that were being shipped over to Ko Tao. There were no chairs, certainly no berths, and a hidden toilet that we didn't even bother to go looking for. For sleeping, you simply laid down on the semi-exposed wooden deck (there was overhead protection) with a mix of locals and tourists scattered around you and snooze. Thankfully, we made a couple of Swedish friends and played a few games of Yahtzee to pass some time on board while we were waiting for the boat to leave the dock (did you know the Swedes have different rules for Yahtzee?). The ride was only 6 hours and we arrived in Ko Tao at about 6 a.m. completely astounded by the fact that we had all slept really well and relieved that it hadn't rained. We went directly to Big Blue Diving which is one of about a hundred diving outfits on the island. It was simply a gut feeling we had and we went for it. Plus, we were not in the mood to spend the morning walking around with our backpacks on comparing the different places to dive. The price for the Open Water Diving Course is the same everywhere on the island so price wasn't an issue.

We began the course that same afternoon. It started with some forms to fill out. This is where I first realized that there may be a problem that I hadn't even considered. I often get severe ear and neck pain while descending in airplanes and on the medical questionnaire it asked if this was a problem. I had to consult with a doctor on staff who explained to me why this happens and told me that my sinus cavity wiring is probably not as fluid and wide as others who do not suffer this sort of pain while flying (he was much more technical). So, he showed me some methods of clearing my ears (equalizing) and I wasn't very successful at it. We decided I could try it out in the water and then decide if I could proceed. Today I had to really work on it but found that when the pressure is on, it's much easier to equalize though I still don't think I have the skill mastered.

Anyway, for those who think (as I kind of did) that to go diving you would only have to get an in-water explanation and then go looking for some fish underwater, I'm about to burst your bubble. That is the kind of training you would need for snorkeling but snorkeling is not scuba. Scuba diving, as we've learned, is really complex and you need to watch videos, have lectures, do practical instruction, and do homework that involves (gasp!) math and physics before you even get to try on your wetsuit and (extremely heavy) gear! So it wasn't until today that we actually got out in the water for a swim, though yesterday we were in the shallow water learning some of the initial skills. The swim was only a very short part of the day today though because we were mostly kneeling down on the ocean floor honing up some of our more advanced skills. It was really fascinating to be kneeling down on the ocean floor, I must say. We were next to huge mounds of coral that, if you stood up, would tower over you. We saw rainbows of different fish scoot by and were witness to five large barracudas! Our instructor Jimmy Wild (seriously, that's his name) is exactly how you might imagine a scuba instructor to be. He's American but darker than most of the locals, he has shoulder length sun-bleached hair and a large shark tattoo on his shoulder, he talks kind of like a surfer (dude) and he wears a Superman wetsuit. But he's super-serious about diving and has done thousands of dives all over the world.

Apart from that, Ko Tao is like a tropical paradise. At long last we have reached the elusive white sandy beaches with crystal blue water. It's incredibly beautiful here and cute, healthy dogs abound. It's easy to forget you're in Thailand since this place is a very newly developed island that has not one, but two, 7-11s. Plus, the food is expensive and for the most part, pretty bad by Thai standards. And don't be upset if you don't hear from me until early next week- the internet costs three times as much here as it does anywhere else we've been.

Tomorrow we do the first of our four big, deep dives. Tune in next time to find out how it went!

tothesea,
k&m

fried chicken's feet and pig's intestines

Oh, I forgot to tell you the weirdest thing about that restaurant we ate at last night. It was also a small store and they had a big bag of vegetarian chicken feet for sale! They looked exactly like fried chicken feet but were just made of wheat gluten. We've seen "fake" meat, but this was taking it one step further. We really wanted to try one, but buying a bag that had at least 100 in it wasn't worth buying for a sample. Plus, it would be a little creepy to crunch down on something that looks like a chicken's foot when I wouldn't even have eaten that in my non-veg life.

So tonight we are in the small fishing village of Chumphon. It's where the south of Thailand officially begins. We took a dirt cheap third- class train here and arrived only a few hours ago. In our few hours here we bought ferry tickets, stocked up on film and ate two dinners (to make up for the lunch we didn't have). One of them was a simple pad thai dish at a night market food stall but the other was quite bizarre... it was a nice restaurant, probably the fanciest one in town. The menu consisted of ingredients from which you picked what you wanted including spices. There were some stomach wrenching ingredients there, like pig's intestines and chopped pork as a seasoning. We passed all that up and ordered the tofu and veggies. The ingredients all came on individual plates and then it was all tossed in a huge hot pot full of steaming broth in the middle of the table. No doubt we were doing just about everything wrong since some staff at the restaurant seemed to really get a kick out of our ways. Luckily, our waitress was a really sweet person and she made sure we were getting what we wanted plus it seemed like she was enjoying practising her English with us. In the end we were charged for water we didn't order (but drank) and ice that cost twice as much as the water. We had to just laugh it off. Overall, the meal was just okay, but the experience was very entertaining.

We have been expanding our Thai vocabulary on a daily basis and can now explain that we also don't eat eggs (it sounds like "my chai kai" and is easy to remember because all the words rhyme). Actually, we have found that this isn't really necessary in Asia since being vegetarian is widely understood as excluding eggs as well.. but it's fun to learn the phrases and have the locals actually understand us!

We are leaving at midnight for a five-hour ferry that will take us to Ko Tao or "Turtle Island" where we are going to take a diving course. We're so excited! It's one of the few things that is on my Definitely Must Do in Asia list. I find the underwater world so fascinating and I can't wait to see it up close for the first time.

That's all for tonight. I'm feeling quite burnt out and uninspired since it feels we really haven't had a break since we left Pai. I'm looking forward to spending several nights in one place and of course, to the diving!

tothesea,
k&m

kin jay please

We spent last night in Bangkok and hopped on a bus again this morning. In order to avoid another long night on a cramped bus, we have broken up the trip a little. We're not sure if this technique was a good one... we're in a small town that feels very small and for the first time in Thailand, I think we're the only foreigners around.

We asked at the guesthouse where we could "kin jay" or "eat vegetarian". The woman pointed us in the direction of a place that closed at 6 so we had ten minutes to run over there. We arrived and confirmed we were at the right place. A kindly older gentleman served us, and from what we could see the place was owned by him and his wife and their young son. With his broken English and our mangled Thai (there was no menu), we all managed to get a fried rice and tofu dish. It was decent... but already we are missing the multitude of veggie restaurants in Bangkok and the north. Who knows what the rest of the south will be like.

Tomorrow we're doing the one thing there is to do in this town- visit the wat. There are hundreds of stairs to climb before reaching the temple since it is perched high on a hill. Since we are (still) so close to the Myanmar border (only 12 kms away now), we can see the Myanmar mountains when we reach the temple. The best part is- we read that the temple is infested with monkeys. We saw it on the way into town and monkeys are even surrounding the base of the hill. We love monkey temples! Those characters are so much fun to watch. At the so-called monkey temple in Kathmandu we saw one walk up to an unsuspecting woman and steal her bag of popcorn right out of her hands! Everyone, including the victim, got a great giggle out of that. We hope to see similar antics tomorrow.

We're on our way to the beaches... and more specifically, Phuket. They have a vegetarian festival every year so naturally, we have to be there! This year it's being held from October 5th-15th and when I looked it up just now I also found this list of rules that are to be observed during the festival. They are:

10 RULES FOR THE VEGETARIAN FESTIVAL

1. Cleanliness of bodies during the festival
2. Clean kitchen utensils and use them separately from others who do not join the festival
3. Wear white during the festival
4. Behave physically and mentally
5. No meat eating
6. No sex
7. No alcoholic drinks
8. People at mourning period should not attend the festival
9. Pregnant ladies should not watch any ritual
10. Ladies with period should not attend the ritual

Interesting!?

tothesea,
k&m

silver lightning and the scaredy cats

Another thrilling couple of days in Pai! Yesterday was an adventure and a half and I'm really only comfortable with half an adventure.

Yesterday we woke up to a drizzly sky and decided it would be a good day to rent some scooters. The ones that have motors in them. That's about the extent of my knowledge of them. We rented only two so that I wouldn't have to drive. Past experiences with shifting gears have me turned off that for good.

We had another two things on our agenda for our scooter day. We were going to make our way 50 kms out of town to explore some caves and then we were going to finish off our day at a waterfall. I was holding on to Magi really tight for the first 30 minutes of our trip, but then I started to loosen my grip and feel somewhat secure. We only made it a little less than halfway to the caves and the entire way we did make it was uphill. The further we climbed, the heavier the rain rained and the thicker the fog fogged. Aaron was long gone but we met him at the top of a hill at a police station/lookout where he was standing there, dripping wet under a gazebo talking to a British bloke. We had all decided that we had to wait out some of the rain or turn back and go straight to the waterfalls. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like the fog was anywhere near lifting and with heavy hearts and broad smiles we made our way back the way we came, but this time it was all downhill.

Magi is a cautious creature and we made our way down the wet, steep mountain carefully and slowly. Aaron, the speedy devil, had a different idea of how the trip should transpire as he quickly flew out of sight like white lightening. (Actually, he is more silver than white without a shirt on.) As we rounded a corner, we saw a blob of red (his bike), green (his rain jacket), and silver (that Aaron skin) and that surprised us this time, because it wasn't moving. His bike was laying near a guardrail and he was standing next to it examining his hand with great interest looking for some proof of the 20 metre skid that he just had down the hill with the bike on top of him. His bum was muddy, his hands full of rocks, and his body was pretty shaky. In hindsight, we can all laugh about it but it was scary at the time- for me because it was only a few minutes before this that I was actually warming up to the idea of spending an extended amount of time on a scooter and for Aaron, for obvious reasons- he would have to spend another few precious baht on a new pair of pants!

Flashback to a few hours before when we were signing out our bikes. Aaron, Mr. Confident (a.k.a. Mr. No Consequences), wasn't going to pay the extra 30 baht for insurance. He figured that, although he had never actually ridden a motorized two-wheeled machine, he was pretty much a pro, even in the rain going up and down mountains. Magi and I, Ms. Cautious and Ms. Only Half an Adventure Please, had already decided that we were buying both the accident insurance and the theft insurance. With some coaxing, we convinced Aaron to splurge on the accident insurance and he, hesitantly, agreed to.

So, he messed the bike up in a big way but since I don't know the names of any parts of the machine (except the mesh basket in front) I won't go into describing the damage done. Soon after the wreck, Aaron's bike wouldn't start. Luckily, two Thai guys on a motorcycle, were whizzing up the hill and stopped to give us a hand. One of them walked over to the woods and grabbed a long, thick piece of bamboo and proceeded to whack it against the pedal of the bike. This worked like a charm and the bike was as good as new in no time (aside from the numerous cracks and scrapes that Aaron had created).

We were off to the waterfalls. But now, Aaron was just ahead of us instead of WAY ahead of us (at least for a little while). The road to the waterfalls was rough. Really rough. Gone were the smooth paved roads and they were replaced with a muddy, slippery, cracked mess of a path. It was dirtbiking without a dirtbike and Magi hadn't ever had experience with this kind of landscape... so after the bike slipped out from under us for the third time, I just got off and walked the rest of the way uphill (a few kms). The waterfall was nice, but I wouldn't go so far as to say it was worth the trip up the path (and plus it was way too cold to go in). Plus the extra creepy feeling of passing through a traditional Thai village full of angry roosters, kids playing with rocks (we found out later they were shouting to Aaron that they loved him!), and opium dealers (there for the tourist who is stupid and thoughtless enough to buy).

Now that both bikes were totally out of gas, we made it into town (barely) by riding most of the way in neutral. I was glad to be back, glad to get off that bike.. but was left with a little dread in knowing that we still had our bikes until noon today and that Aaron and Magi wanted to wake up and go riding again.

We sat underneath the bright full moon in a gazebo overhanging the river while Aaron and Magi sipped down a mickey of moonshine that Aaron had bought the night before. We talked at length about the earlier incidents as Aaron struggled to get comfortable with a bum that was getting more achy every minute.

This morning, we woke up and rode straight to the hot springs that we had gone to a few days ago on our mountain bikes. The trip only took about 15 minutes compared to the hour that it took us using the weary strength of our legs. We made it there early enough to have the place to ourselves. By the time we soaked for a while, it was time to make our way back into town and return the bikes. We ate a delicious meal complete with that famous local coffee again and then headed here, to the internet cafe, to tell you all our stories.

Sadly, we leave Pai tomorrow.

love,
k&m