Don't Let the Door Hit You on Your Way Out

I'm sitting in an nearly empty house, contemplating our final hours in Thailand.  My wife and children are snuggled in their beds upstairs, but I can't sleep.  The vans come to take us to the airport in about two hours.  I'm anxious about our flight in less than five hours.  I'm anxious about getting all of our bags checked in, and getting everyone through airport security and customs.  And I'm anxious about the United States women's soccer team playing Japan in the title game for the World Cup.  Seriously, right about now I'm an emotional mess, and I hate it.

I like being the one who cracks jokes, who makes the mood lighter, the person who helps other people feel like no matter what happens, it's all going to be okay.  And right now I don't feel like it's all going to be okay.  I feel like we're going to miss something, we'll leave something behind, or we'll end up running through the airport to make our flight.  I'm on edge and I know it, and my kids know it (I snapped at one of my daughters and made her cry, and I feel awful about it).

I thought about compiling a list of things that I will miss and things that I won't miss about Thailand.  Doing that, however, would require me to admit how much I'm going to miss this place.  As I've gone through the past week, full of "lasts"--last haircut, last time going through the tollbooth, last time walking down the spiral staircase in the Embassy, last time cursing at the insane motorcyclists -- I held up remarkably well.  Part of that was because I was so busy with getting things done at work that I didn't have time to be anxious.  My boss left Bangkok two weeks before I did, and with my supervisor away on leave for a month, all of a sudden I was the office expert on Thailand.  It was pretty cool and extremely frightening, all at the same time.  Add to that trying to pass as much information as possible to my successor, and you have a recipe for being very busy with no time to contemplate any other issues.

If I'm honest with myself, I think that high level of business kept me sane.  Well, I survived the week, at least.  And besides, my oldest daughter earlier today compiled her own list of things she will/won't miss about Thailand.  I'll let her be a guest contributor to this blog and add her thoughts about the whole thing.

All that said, I am going to miss Thailand.  A lot.  We have made wonderful friends wherever we have gone, and Thailand is no exception.  The people I have worked with, the people we have lived around, and so many of those who we sincerely call friends, have made these past two years wonderful.  With the miracles of electronic communication we know that we will be able to keep in touch with so many of these people, that leaving here does not feel like good-bye--at least not yet.

But leave we must, and soon enough we'll be on our way.  I hope that by the time we settle into our seats on the plane my anxiety will have lessened.  I hope that we'll be able to enjoy our time with family back in the United States before we make our way back to Virginia.  And I hope that we will always be able to look back on our time here and smile because of the good times and good friends.

And I hope the US Women beat Japan for the World Cup.

What's Scarier Than Barrelling Down a Rural Thai Highway at Ludicrous Speed?

How about barrelling down a rural Thai highway at Ludicrous Speed at night.  In the rain.

On July 3, the majority of Thais exercised their mandatory right to cast a ballot in national parliamentary elections.  It was my privilege and duty to venture to Nakhon Ratchasima (colloquially called Korat, the gateway of Thailand's northeastern region known throughout Thailand as Isaan - อีสาน) and Buriram provinces to observe the election on behalf of the US Embassy.  Totally cool experience, not the least because I was interviewed by five Thai television stations about the United States' position on democracy and elections in Thailand.  In Thai.

That said, the drive back to Bangkok that evening was probably the most harrowing experience of my time here in Thailand.  I do not say this lightly, my friends.  Part of my duties have required me to make multiple trips to Thailand's southernmost provinces, the site of a very active separtist insurgency.  Somebody gets shot or blown up down there every day.  Add to that near-daily excursions through the red-shirt protest site last year, and you'll know that I've had some interesting experiences here.

But those do not even come close to comparing with the level of white-knuckle anxiety I experienced coming home Sunday night.  Thank goodness that our driver decided to take his foot off the accelerator a bit after we passed the third accident.  Didn't stop him from driving like the rest of the Thais on the highway, though, constantly changing lanes, even driving on the shoulder of the road to pass other cars.  It was bad enough, but when the rain started it just raised the pucker-factor.  It also didn't help that literally thousands of Thais were doing the exact same thing we were, that is trying to get back to Bangkok after spending the weekend upcountry.

I did have the common sense to not kiss the ground until I was safely inside my house and the front door was closed.

Singapore, Land of...Mashed Potatoes?

Let this be my obligatory blog post for the month of June.  Things have been busy as we prepare to move back to the United States from Thailand.  But before we left, Anne and I took a little trip to Singapore, just the two of us, so Anne could have some testing done.  In that spirit, I now offer my most disjointed blog post to date.

 Anne's biggest priority in Singapore: to partake of mashed potatoes dispensed from a machine.  One of her middle school teachers told her about this, so she was bound and determined to get her some hot and tasty mashed potatoes.  From a machine.

These machines aren't difficult to find, as every single 7-Eleven store in Singapore has one.  Our challenge was actually finding one that worked.  Eventually we did, and Anne was more than happy to eat them.  Of course initially she was leery, as when it came out of the machine it looked a lot like snot and was extremely runny.  But within a few minutes the mixture had thickened, and Anne gladly consumed the entire container.

While we only had a couple of days in Singapore, and quite limited opportunities to see the island, I did take advantage of Anne's handy-dandy point-and-shoot camera to take photographs of the interesting things I saw in the city-state of Singapore.

So, Anne came out of the restroom at the mall which housed the clinic and said, "Dad, I think there are urinals in the women's bathroom!"  Fortunately the mystery was already solved, as I had already visited the men's room, which had the following pictures on the stalls.

Door Number Three is pretty obvious, it's the sitter.  I was a little surprised, however, that Anne didn't recognize what was behind Door Number Two.  Yes indeed, ladies and gentlemen, it's a squat toilet!  I didn't even have to stretch to get that mention in.

Okay, astute readers, why is the following picture so amusing?

That's right, inspirational hair.  By Melvin.  You know, Melvin.  Bald Melvin.  Now I know I've got plenty of hair issues, but really?  I'm going to get inspiration for my coif from a folically-challenged man?  Mad props to Anne for spotting this in a magazine and pointing it out.  That girl knows funny.


So, while Anne was testing I walked around the mall, which coincidentally was once the grandstand for Singapore's major horse-racing track.  They turned it into a mall.  I know, crazy, right?  But how's this for crazy?

That's right, a stairway to...a blank wall.  Love it.  Tell the kids to run up and get my *THUNK!*






This next funny is funny if you speak Lao or Thai and are willing to be creative enough to not even try and pronounce the word in it's proper Chinese form.  Loi (ລອຍ-ลอย) in Lao/Thai means "to float."  Kee (ຂີ້-ขี้) means doo-doo.  Hence, loi kee (ລອຍຂີ້-ลอยขี้) means "to float poo."  Exactly what I would name my best chicken and rice restaurant.

I have no idea what the proper Chinese pronunciation is, by the way.  Because that would totally spoil the fun of it for me.  And for the record, the chicken and rice was delicious.

I have to include a photograph with the Zufelts, not the least because they took me to the floating poo restaurant.  With friends like this, you will never go wrong.  EVER.

Just out of curiosity, where do you keep your hoser eels?  I'm more of an aquarium kinda guy, where I can see my hoser eel and what whatever shenanigans it might be up to.  Because there's really nothing quite as disconcerting as throwing open a hallway cabinet door and coming face-to-face with a light-deprived and possibly quite hungry hoser eel.







Anne and I spotted these frames at the eye doctor, and she channeled Mr. Frederickson, from the Disney movie Up.  Frightening, the resemblance.  It wouldn't have been too difficult to find a chubby little Scout-looking kid wandering around Singapore, just to complete the picture.




It was a good trip.  We learned a lot, and it was pretty cool to see another country.  Singapore had a lot more trees than I expected, and it was nice to see orderly traffic that all flowed in the right direction, with no crazy motorcyclists weaving in and out of the cars (I'm still slightly bitter about the motorcyclist that hit me trying to pass me on the right, while I was executing a right-hand turn).

That said, it was good to come home to Thailand, even if it's our home for only a few more weeks.

Two Adventures for the Price of One

Almost two hours southeast of where we live here is a lovely province called Chonburi.  Chonburi itself is perhaps best known for the seaside town of Pattaya.  I've personally describe Pattaya to a friend as Thailand's version of Mos Eisely--you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.  We visited Pattaya in March with our good friends the Zufelts, and for some reason I never blogged about that.  And by "for some reason" I really mean "I was being lazy."

In addition to Pattaya, Chonburi is also home to Flight of the Gibbon--a jungle zipline adventure billed on their own web site as "a thrilling voyage like no other on earth."  After paying a reasonable price and signing your life away, you go get all harnessed up, they give you a helmet and a talk about safety procedures, and then you walk up this trail to the first platform.  By the way, I'm totally joking about signing your life away.  You do have to agree to obey their safety rules--and between you and me, when it comes to being up in the jungle canopy and staying safe, I will happily follow whatever safety rules they give me.

I forgot to mention, our good friend Scott was visiting us.  We had wanted to go to Flight of the Gibbon for some time, and we used Scott's visit to finally head down there for our adventure.  Good times, Scott, thanks for coming.

Anyway, we were having a great time.  The weather was quite nice, cooler than usual, but still fairly humid.  To be honest, it's not so bad up in the trees as there's usually a slight breeze, and we weren't exerting huge amounts of energy standing around and ziplining between platforms.  As could probably have been predicted, Sarah wasn't really thrilled about being up so high for the first traverse or two, but eventually she got over it and decided that this zipline stuff was, in fact, quite a lot of fun.  Ben and Maggie took to it naturally and had a lot of fun.  Anne screamed on approximately half of all the lines.

Now, those astute readers of this blog will note that the title said there were TWO adventures.  About halfway through our tour of the jungle canopy, it started to rain.  I have written previously about being in Thailand during the monsoon season, and those of you who have been in this part of the world during the monsoon season know what that means.  Massive amounts of rain.  Ridiculous amounts of rain.  The advantage is that this is Thailand and it's not so cold, so you don't necessarily mind being completely soaked to the bone.  And, as commonly accompanies rain, there was thunder.  Mr. Bass (say it like the name of the fish), the lead guide on our expedition, said that he was recently struck by lightening, so he was understandably nervous, and accordingly cautious.  We rappelled to the ground.  That's where the second adventure began.

We started walking, in the pouring rain, through the Thai rain forest to get to the next platform in the hopes that the rain would let up.  Oh, and did I mention that there was no trail for us to follow?  That's right, we were bushwacking through the jungle.  With the massive amounts of leaves and other stuff on the jungle floor our footing was much more secure than I might have originally surmised, especially since I was wearing my FiveFingers.  We wound our way around, under, and through the bushes and vines, completely soaking wet.  In a word: AWESOME.  Seriously, Mali and I thought it was actually pretty fun.  I think Scott enjoyed it, too.  Maggie said she liked it.  Anne said it was interesting, but a little scary.  Sarah said it was, "Bad.  Terrible."  She cried about wanting to go home at one point--I think that was right around the time we saw the huge millipede.  Ben appeared fairly indifferent.  In other words, they'd love to do it all over again.

The only real downside to it was that poor Ben was shivering.  It wasn't really all that cold, but that kid has no body fat to keep him warm.  It's a problem that I wish I had, to be honest.

By the time we got to the next platform the rain had stopped, and we continued moving from platform to platform along the ziplines.  Fortunately the clouds didn't break immediately, so the temperatures stayed very tolerable.  And I love how beautiful the jungle and mountains are when they are shrouded in the mists.  The downside of that is that we didn't dry out as quickly as we might have liked--on the other hand, we weren't sweating profusely, either, because that's what happens when its over 90 degrees Fahrenheit with 80 percent humidity.

The other downside of the clouds not dissipating became evident as we got to the final platform--coincidentally the longest line of them all, at 300 meters--when it started raining again.  Luckily none of us were dry yet.  By the time that Mali, Scott, and I zipped across that 300 meter span the rain was coming down just as hard as ever.  With the speed we picked up down that line, the drops felt like little needles, stinging our faces and eyes as we flew through the air.  In other words, totally radical, dude.

Mali, coming in fast through the rain.

I am upset about one thing, though.  The t-shirt they gave me was so NOT an adult extra large.

All smiles!

Menace to (Thai) Society?

I've previously ruminated on my observations about Thai movies and television, so this post is both a follow-on and another commentary about Thai culture/society.  I will give advance warning, however, that as our time in Thailand draws to a close I have allowed myself to become increasingly irritated rather easily.  It's actually a defense mechanism, a sort of denial that I will actually miss this place a great deal.

Thailand's Ministry of Culture of late has been getting their knickers in a twist over a couple of incidents that they claim have eroded the glorious culture in the Land of Smiles.  The first incident was the case of some young women dancing topless on Silom Road (a popular tourist spot in Bangkok) during Songkran, the traditional new year festival in mid-April.  Let me be clear that I am NOT condoning the behavior of these young ladies, especially when subsequent reporting revealed that the girls were underage and this was not the first time they had done something like this.  What I find gloriously hypocritical about it is the fact that immediately adjacent to Silom Road is the infamous area called Patpong, renowned for its bars and, how do I put this delicately...other forms of adult entertainment.  When the YouTube video first appeared officials at the Culture Ministry even said their initial suspicion was that the young women were employees of one of Patpong's finer establishments and had made their way to the Songkran party on Silom Road.

The second major cultural scandal, at least according to the Culture Ministry, has been the wildly popular evening soap opera Dok Som Si Thong (ดอกส้มสีทอง or "Golden Orange Flower").  Like many Thai soap operas, it deals with some uber-rich guy and his relationship with both his wife and his mia noi (เมียน้อย or minor wife).  The danger to Thai culture here, apparently, is that the mia noi uses some pretty coarse language and is quite the schemer, something the Ministry of Culture says that no self respecting Thai would ever do (can you hear me rolling my eyes?).  In addition, the ministry fears that many Thais would not be able to discern that this is entertainment, not reality (again, my eyes are rolling quite loudly here).

Imagine, then, my shock today when The Nation--one of Thailand's two major English-language dailies, widely read by Thai elites and the expatriate community--had an article with the following headline:

Media literacy needed among TV viewers, says watchdog

Really?  Those brilliant folks at the Culture Ministry, those guardians of all that is pure and virtuous in the kingdom just figured out that there might be some inappropriate stuff on TV here?  Where are these paragons of virtue, these scions of purity when HBO and Cinemax are running an all-day Saw marathon on Saturday, starting in the morning/afternoon when kids have easy access to the tube?  Yes, I know those examples are from premium channels, but really, is it that hard to delay the back-to-back-to-back showings of the Friday the 13th flicks until at least maybe 7 p.m.?


What about the trailers for horror movies, complete with zombies attacking and the occasional blood spatter, shown before films marketed for children?  I’m absolutely gobsmacked that it’s taken the uproar over the soap opera to bring the issue of what may or may not be appropriate for media that is readily/easily accessible by minors.  And don't even get me started on the inordinate number of Steven Segal movies shown on television here...I believe there's something in the Geneva Convention about that.

Fortunately I had this story from *Not the Nation, which sarcastically beat the mainstream media to the punch by four months.  It's funny, mostly because it hits so close to the mark.

Please don't misunderstand me: I love Thailand and I know that most Thais are genuinely decent people who in fact are quite capable of discerning that the lifestyles of the super-wealthy depicted in Thai soaps do not represent reality for most people, just as most Americans understand that many of our television shows are not indicative of the daily life for most people in the United States.  Well, except for Melrose Place and The Wire--I'm pretty sure those are documentaries.  And, like most Americans, I am confident that the Thais that do enjoy these soap operas see them merely as (mindless?) entertainment, not as blueprints for successful, happy living.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to stumble off my soapbox.

*For those of you uninitiated to the brilliance that is Not the Nation, it is a parody of Thailand's news, very similar to The Onion.  Wickedly funny, with bitingly sarcasm and irony that quite often shines a glaring spotlight on the various idiosyncrasies of Thai politics and culture.  Excellent reading, I highly recommend it.

Saturday Morning on the Skytrain

Last Saturday I took one of my daughters downtown for a birthday party.  Prior to my departure I asked my lovely wife if she needed anything from downtown Bangkok.  She said, "Krispy Kremes.  You'll be close enough, right?"  You see, sometime back in late 2010 Bangkok opened its very first--and so far only--Krispy Kreme franchise, so if we happen to be in the vicinity of that shop, we'll usually get a box or two.  Or six.

Thing is, I was down near Emporium, one of Bangkok's high-end shopping malls, while Krispy Kreme is at Siam Paragon, another of Bangkok's high-end shopping malls a few kilometers away.  But ever-ready to please my wife, I happily hopped on the BTS, also known as the Skytrain, which conveniently has stops in front of both Emporium and Paragon.

In the fifteen minute ride between the two stations I observed the following:

Prospecting for gold.  And by "prospecting for gold" what I really mean is this dude was digging in his nose.  Like his finger was up the second knuckle.  I think he might have been looking for his wedding ring.  Actually, on second thought, I'm pretty sure that wasn't what he was looking for.

Coiffing the brows.  Combing one's eyebrows in and of itself not particularly unusual--at least that's what my wife tells me.  While I personally found it just a little weird that someone would pull out a small mirror and then comb their eyebrows while on public transportation, what really intrigued me about the endeavor was this person's choice of implement.  It was a toothbrush.  With a sawed-off handle.

Swiping pits.  This wasn't just some random person giving their armpits a quick check to see if they were a little damp.  This was actually a television commercial wherein the cute and perky lead actress wipes her underarms, gives them a sniff, and then extends her hands for her friends to catch a whiff.  And they are all smiling and giggling the entire time.

Man purse.  You see plenty of backpackers in Bangkok.  And when I say "backpacker" I mean it in the European sense, where you've got your average post-college kid wandering around with a gargantuan backpack.  And just to be stereotypical, quite often the male version of this backpacker appears to not have shaved for several days, sometimes is a good six-to-twenty months overdue for a haircut, and is wearing flip-flops, shorts (or capris--excuse me, "manpris"), and a tank-top emblazoned with the logo of either an Asian beer (Chang, Tiger, and Beer Lao being the most common in Bangkok) or that most well-known of all energy drinks famed for its Thai origins, Red Bull.  But seeing one of these guys with a Louis Vuitton shoulder bag slightly discomboblulated me.  Giant backpack; check.  Flip-flops; check.  Man who looks like a reintroduction to a razor and barber's shears would be most welcome; check.  Lovely bag casually slung over one shoulder; what the??!!  By the way, somebody slap me for even recognizing the bag as a Louis Vuitton.

Why walk when you can wait.  When I got off the train at Siam Paragon there was a massive queue in front of the down escalators.  Oddly enough, a mere 10 meters or so away from that scrum was another escalator (and staircase) with maybe three people going down to the next level.  I guess what I neglected to calculate, though is that in addition to the 10 meters to get to that escalator, you also have to walk an additional 10 meters to get back to where the first escalator meets the next floor, so you've now done at least an additional twenty meters of walking...what was I thinking?

Conclusion: riding the Skytrain on a Saturday morning is far more entertaining than riding it during regular commute times.  And three dozen Krispy Kremes--totally worth the ride.

Walking: It's Really Not That Hard

Walking.  It's something most of us have done since we were knee-high to a grasshopper.  I love that phrase, "knee-high to a grasshopper," especially since I got tagged with the nickname "Grasshopper" way back in '92.  But I digress.

Walking is the most fundamental of methods of locomotion for most of us homo sapiens.  All over the world, in all sorts of weather, people walk.  Some people walk long distances, others only a short way, but the vast majority of human beings on this planet walk.  It is with that in mind that I make the following declaration:

Bangkokians do not know how to walk.

Sure, folks in Bangkok know how to move by placing one foot in front of the other, first the left and then the right, in a repeated pattern.  What they don't know how to do is walk in an effective, efficient pattern that allows everyone to get where they need to go in a timely manner.

This is something that's been bugging me for awhile, but exacerbated last month as I stayed after work to play basketball in the Embassy's annual tournament and commuted home using the train and commuter vans rather than the normal shuttle vans that run between our place and the Embassy.  Part of that commute involves walking on the elevated walkway around Victory Monument.

Here are a few clues that you might need to be a little more aware of how your walking is affecting the ability of those around you to get to their desired location.

• If very few people are passing you going in the same direction, you're slow.
• If nobody is passing you going the same direction, and there's significant space between you and the next person in front of you, you are slow and you're blocking the walkway.  Probably with the three friends you are with, none of whom are even slightly cognizant of the fact that you are all blocking the walkway.
• If you are constantly being bumped by people walking the opposite direction as you, you're too far in the middle.  Move right.  Or left.  Pick a side.  Just get out of the middle.
• You've all seen street vendors spread their wares on a blanket along the side of the walkway.  You don't have to stop and look over the shoulder of the other 35 people huddled around that vendor.  Besides, they're counterfeit goods.

While we're on the subject, could everyone just decide which side of the walkway to move, please.  I know street traffic here moves on the left-hand side.  But sidewalk traffic is like Thunderdome; every man, woman, and child for his/her/itself.  Slow walkers stay to the outside and let those of us who want to move faster than 3 kilometers an hour move along the inside.  Thanks.

I really shouldn't complain all that much.  The elevated walkways are literally express lanes compared to the walkways along streets like Sukhumvit, Phetchaburi, and Silom, where the street vendors occupy fully three-quarters of the sidewalk with their stalls.  Maybe I'll stop complaining now...

Oh Yes, She Did Eat That...

As our good friend Heidi recently blogged, McDonald's here in Thailand has decided to offer a radical new delicacy as part of their dessert menu (Heidi, you can thank me later for the serious bump in traffic to your blog caused by my two faithful readers--thanks Mom, hi Maggie!).  And my dear wife, being the intrepid woman she is, decided that she simply had to give it a go at our most recent family outing to the Golden Arches.

I made that picture extra large so you can see what highlighted.  Yes indeed, my friends, Mali did in fact purchase and consume the McDonald's Broccoli Pie.  Remember folks, this is the same country that offers vanilla ice cream with corn swirl (KFC) and the taro and corn dessert pie (gee, thanks Burger King, not sure what I would have done without that in my life...).

Not only did Mali herself partake, she asked our children to taste it.  Anne said she got lucky and only had some of the cheese.  Benjamin, a self-proclaimed broccoli-phile, said that he really liked it.  After finishing said "delicacy" (I use that word in the same context I would for those fried insects you can buy from street vendors), Mali said that it was a little too sweet, as the outside was exactly the same as what they use for their apple pies.

I'll take their word for it.

THE FINGER BREAKFAST CAKE DUN DUUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNAH!

The last in our series of blog posts by my children.  This is Sarah's entry.

this morning dad asked who stuck their finger in the breakfast cake. it wasn't me, or maggie or anne. it couln't be ben or jane, a, because jane can't reach the stove.and b, because ben wasn't in the kitchen the whole morning ecxept for breakfast time, and c, ben and jane's fingers are not as big as the mark. we all thought it was anne because she said ," i don't touch things that are hot!" we all gasped{ecxept for anne} because how would she KNOW it was hot if she didn't touch it. but then she said, "i know because it just came out of the oven."
after i got ben for breakfast and we said prayer dad said HE did it by saying,"i did it. i was carrying the breakfast cake with one hand and the mitt got in it."
then we all ate breakfast.
THE END.

Enchiladas v.s. Jane by Anne

Part Two in a series of three guest blog posts.  This entry comes from my oldest spawn, Anne.

Jane is a picky eater. Last night, Mom made us enchilada casserole before she and Dad went to the movies. It was hard to get Jane to eat because of several reasons.
1. She fell asleep on the floor
2. She does not like anything that's not french toast, bagels, toast, cereal, Lucky Charms marshmallows, and breakfast cake topping.
3.She doesn't always know what she is eating.

I fed her a small piece of chicken, she took 5 minutes to chew it, and then I told her to sit up. Before I commanded her to sit up, I asked her if she liked it, and she replied saying "I looooove it!"

She sat up and saw the enchilada on her plate. Ten seconds later there was a ground up lump of slimy chicken in my hand, and some bits on the floor.

A little while later she took another bite, after knowing what it was. Instead of extending my hand to let her empty her mouth of chickeny and creamy tortillas, I told her to spit it up in the toilet. It worked but I hope she flushed.