Welcome to Thailand - saving face

Today, I walk into my room that I pay 80 baht nightly for (the equivalent of $2 US – a bargain for some reason in this overpriced tourist town) only to find one of the beds missing - the twin bed that Nicole uses. Now, what’s left is the king sized bed that Mag and I share. It doesn’t have any sheets, and every time Mag moves, I wake up, but still, it’s a bed. But three’s a crowd.

A note lay on the floor:

We take (May I) bed (small) from your room.

-Owner Khaolak Palm Hill
Ms. Dee

Turns out the motel is missing a bed in another room and management makes up a phony story about us not paying rent (it’s paid for two more weeks) to justify taking ours. The Thai art of “saving face.” Welcome to Thailand, I think to myself.

no nail through the foot...yet

Day 3 on the job site, Nam Kem, completed. So far, I'm safe, though this job site is terribly unsafe.

volunteering has been really great. a few things about it: there are about 100 volunteers here, at least, at any given time, so there's lots of neat people to meet. really helps me develop a deeper love for people, seeing so many foreigners that are giving of themselves. we all have our reasons, and while most of us enjoy what we're doing (more than staying in our home countries) so there's an element of selfishness in it, i'm still impressed by people's hearts. i think there's lots of room in other places hit by the tsunami to take this model (i'd need to stay here to learn lots more about it) and start new projects. with my skills, fundraising, outreach, organizing, etc. - maybe that's the type of thing i should be doing while i'm abroad. i fear that i don't have the guts to do something big and bold and lasting. it's so much easier to bounce from project to project, with some travel in between. but for now i'll look mostly for thai-led (and vietnamese and indonesian and whatever else) groups that i can lend my services to, and keep my eyes open for a place where i might be able to join together with a community in need and people ready to invest some time and energy in something lasting.

there's quite a party scene here at night, which is interesting. i feel a bit old, sometimes. my life is quite enjoyable, but i don't think i do a very good job of good old fashioned fun. partying, staying up late laughing and drinking with people, going swimming in the beach and playing a game of water polo at midnight under a full moon, that kind of stuff. so i have to force myself to go out. most times i do, i have a good time. two nights ago, i had a phenomenal time. i went out to meet my work site crew (5 of them) for dinner. two women - kate and angie - both lovely, as well as a bunch of swiss germans and two guys from england. we had a good time, but conversation sometimes seemed forced. that's the way my whole work group feels - like we all like each other, but there's no magic chemistry. but then afterwards, i sat down with a group of australians all here for one to two months. they've been assigned to the beach cleanup. yeah, they get to hang out on the beach all day, but they also have to well, clean up. i guess it loses its charm after a day of picking up other people's trash. keep in mind, trash still keeps washing up on shore after ages and ages - i guess it's caught in the reefs. and there are still shoes of people who presumably perished in the tsunami, or lost their shoes and clothing. resorts they pass on the beach are totally deserted. one has the nationalities of all of the dead written outside of the rooms in which they were staying - one very expensive sofitel hotel. it's a really wild place to be right now.

anyhow, i went out with the australians to a bar next door - the happy snapper. we ended up staying out until 1. they gave me a nickname - shazza. my first cool nickname since 97. i gues it's the australian shortened version of sharon. or shaz, for short. had all-out fun, lots of laughter, for the first time in ages.

this weekend i'm just relaxing. i've found a christian church i can go to tomorrow for services, with a bunch of other volunteers at differnet projects. i've found a christmas eve dinner (two actually) with lots of volunteers, and the center is sponsoring a dinner on christmas day, which i have volunteered to cook for. we have a wood-fired stove to use. i think we might make pizzas, in addition to a few turkeys! yum! my first experience with a wood-fired stove.

so there are a lot of compelling reasons to return here. lots of infrastructure, lots of travelers, a community to support volunteers, good nightlife, lots of good cheap restaurants (a 2 dollar dinner is standard). i still like the place i'm staying at outside of town though i'm thinking of moving into town tomorrow because i think it'll be easier to go out. and it's just 2 bucks a night. employee housing, someone's out of town.

hm, what else? i haven't been practising my thai very well. i know, it's bad of me. it's so hard. i learn something literally a dozen times (like how do you say "what's your name?") and yet i continue to forget and have to ask again. khun chi arai, maybe is the thai for that statement, but still i forget. and change one tone a bit, and it's a different word. the other day, i thought i was saying "the rain is okay" when someone told me to sit out the drizzle. instead, i kept saying "the rain is delicious, the rain is delicious". i mean, i guess spouting poetry unintentionally is okay, but my mistakes aren't always so inocuous, i'm sure.

the thai people are great. only one weird experience so far. last night a young man grabbed my arm as i walked with two other women in a side street from the beach late at night. he was drunk, trying to introduce himself. i was with a thai woman and she spoke to him but she thought he was burmese because he didn't seem to understand. thai men aren't sexually aggressive and it's very taboo to touch people of the opposite sex so even though he was young i am surprised if he was thai. so i will be careful not to walk alone, i didn't expect something like that, when i'm in remote areas. but most young men are very nice. for example, last night we were hanging out at a bar, upstairs. it's actually more like the living room of the people that own the bar and live upstairs. lots of cushions, buddha statues, beautiful woodworking from burma. the brother of the owner came upstairs with his friend, brought thai rum (yuck!) and sodas for us, and popcorn, and we played darts and connect 4 for a few hours, and then he drove us home. quite polite, just wanted company, no icky feelings. most of my experiences with men and women both have been so great, no weirdness underlying it, not trying to get money from me or pick me up. people here are largely wonderful.

Is travel my drug?

"I should like to spend the whole of my in life traveling abroad, if I could anywhere borrow another life to spend afterwards at home." — William Hazlitt

If travel is my drug, is the high wearing thin? I find myself addicted to travel, to the lure of the unknown, the intrigue of strange faces, the funkiness and vivacity of the appearances - not to mention the personalities - of fellow travelers. I relish the delight of a foreign accent upon my ears, the fusion of anonymity with otherness of wandering among a sea of faces unlike my own, the excitement of never knowing where I might lay my head in the evening.

But while I'm enjoying myself here, certainly, and my excitement builds about the adventures awaiting me, it's not the same level of delight I once had. It's nice, but it feels comfortable - almost normal. I suppose I wanted to be elated, this whole time, which likely is an unsustainable emotional high. I suppose part of the novelty of travel was learning I could take care of myself, amidst people whose language I hadn't mastered, with different customs. I've learned that lessonyear ago - I haven't wowed myself on this trip. I haven't learned anything new about myself (yet). And while I used to meet travelers and be wowed at their stories, it's become commonplace. Yeah, yeah, we all are variations on the same few themes. We're all cut from the same mold. So there's less intrigue about meeting strangers, developing short-lived friendships.

If travel is my drug, what's the next, bigger, high? Or is this trip - a spiritual quest, in part - an example to learn to live with the Buddhist belief of the middle path of non-attachment?

Greenpeace spirit

I am forever grateful to Providence for sending me straight into Greenpeace's activist embrace. My first night there at the ship, they invite me to join an action team. Put me on food. Now, I don't know Thai, and I don't know what Thai people like to eat, but that didn't stop me from keeping 10-35 people fed - Thai, American, Filipino, Indonesian. A rollickin' good time. These folks know how to have fun. There's way more time kickin' around, doing nothing, than I'm accustomed to in the United States. It's a bit hard to get used to - if I'm not doing something, aren't I simply useless? Not in Thailand; it just operates differently. And my new Filipino compatriots have tempted me with stories of beaches on their 7,000 islands. Their sense of humor is notable. I'd never been drawn to the Philippines before; now, I'm wondering how to transport myself there.

Here's a note from a blog entry I did for the Greenpeace warehouse on our first night at a protest camp in front of BLCP, a coal-fired power plant (yuck, yuck). We ended up blockading on the third day. I stayed low-profile, joining only when necessary. No need to get booted from Thailand, on top of Canada! My lovely role was spooning watermelon, boiled eggs, rice dishes, and white bread with marmelade (not all at the same time) into people's mouths as they were held immobile by heavy lockboxes. It was actually endearing, to feed nearly perfect strangers in such an intimate gesture.

I'm now at the Tsunami Center. Tomorrow I begin working in the hottest, nastiest, most dangerous construction site - on a previous swamp. Sounds fun. But honestly, the group seems phenomenal. I'm excited to be a part of something this big to help rebuild Khao Lok, the area hardest hit by the Tsunami.

BLOG ENTRY:

We were all getting settled in comfortably for the night. All but a half-dozen of us had gone back to the cabin to take a shower and change. Those of us that were left witnessed the changing of the shifts. Hundreds of men, maybe a thousand or more, started to stream out of the gates. They loaded up by the dozens into the backs of trucks, looking uncomfortable, boxed in, faces covered by another's elbos or hand. They watched us curiously, presumably they had imagined we would be gone by now.

But here we were, bellies full. We'd had a delicious spread for dinner. I started with dessert first, a monstrous portion of sticky rice and mango, which I nearly finished before the sweetness became too much. And then a wickedly spicy green bean and seafood concoction with rice. A slow burn from the chilies was warming my body from my center outwards, combatting the cool breeze that kicked up in the evening.

The sky was a mottled blue and the tiniest sliver of moon eeked its way into existence under the weight of all the ominous color. Our windmill whirred in the background, producing the energy to watch a chinese fighting movie dubbed in Thai. We ate green mangoes, fruits dusted in sugary powder, drank iced tea. And settled in for a peaceful night, relishing the protection of tents while our climbers battled the cold and brisk wind.

http://www.asiacleanenergy.org/blogs/index.php?blog=7

She arrives

Bangkok has been simply lovely. It's a bit overwhelming; the colors, noises, smog, beautiful people, opportunities, all - it just screams out at me. I'm feeling the urge to depart, and soon; not because I dislike the city - on the contrary, it's just too wonderful. I think I need somewhere smaller, more intimate, to begin my foray into Thailand. Plus, everything's so cheap that it's tempting to spend money on services and products I don't need.

Immediately upon arriving in Thailand, my travel magic began. It's one of the things I love about travel - the "coincidences" that happen, to jerk me from the mundane, the routine, the practical and scientific and explainable, and elevate my life to something that feels intertwined with fate. As if I'm swept into the stream of where I should be, and why, and all I have to do is recognize the opportunties as they come my way.

It happened on my first hour here.

I was on a bus, headed to a guesthouse, when the bus finally stopped at stop #1, after more than an hour weaving through traffic. I saw other travelers, and decided to bail, early. I'd been traveling for more than 24 hours at that point, just to arrive. I check into a gueshouse, go downstairs for food, and by some miracle, I hear a gentleman on a microphone speaking about the Greenpeace ship, the Rainbow Warrior. The ship I just submitted a volunteer application for. I hop in a taxi, and head to a place I can't even read (it was written in Thai for the taxi driver). I'm deposited at the gate of a port. It's dark. Motorcycles zoom by, often in the wrong lane, weaving between cars and dangerously flipping 180s at whim. Dogs bark at me as I walk by. I reach the security officers, who tell me the GP ship is a long walk down these dark docks at night. I look up the word for dogs in my dictionary, and ask if they're around, punctuating my question with a bark, for emphasis. No, no dogs, they say. Unfortunately, they were wrong. Lots of dogs. But I make it. And Greenpeace folks show me around, I'm drinking beers with the crew, I'm getting solicited by the actions coordinator in Thailand to do actions later this week. Now, do you call that mere coincidence?

What else? Oh, yes. Thankfully, my mock wedding ring combined with an apparent lack of Thai libido (or perhaps I'm simply not their type) has left me largely unmolested by men on the streets. But I can't say the same for the bars - the lesbian bars, that is. I went out last night with three international women, one of them dating a woman I met through my friend Lyndy's old Thai teacher here in Bangkok. I show up to meet them, and they announce that we're going to the Kit Kat club, a lesbian bar. More like a lesbian warehouse - it was just after payday, and there were nearly 1000 crazy, fun women in there! Needless to say, I met quite a few (mostly Thai) women last night, including one I'd already met at the GP event and a woman studying monkeys here, who's read work by my college professor, Katie Milton. Will wonders never cease?

I woke up this morning with a mild hang-over, but a wicked smile. I think I'm gonna like this place.