The Beach

Had time between tests at the hospital, so went to the beach! Met a friendly German in the taxi in a small town called Trat on the Thailand/Cambodia border. We were in one of the pickup taxis (they hold about 10 people in the back of a pick-up truck) and he asked we where I was going. I responded I didn't know (don't have a guide book for Thailand, and had come to Trat on the recommendation of a guy on my flight from India who said that it was the quickest point to the beach from Bangkok), and followed the German to his hostel. We set out to the night market to find some food (love the Thai take on food: everyone must always be hungry, so there's great, cheap street food everywhere), and I confessed I hadn't drunk liquor for months. Since Andorra in July actually. So we proceeded to get smashed off of one bottle of the local rum, SongSang (sp?). It's actually quite good, they give you a bottle, two glasses, a bucket of ice and some cokes, and it feels pretty dandy going down. I managed not to kill myself heading back to the hostel, politely (I hope, I'm not known for my tact when drunk) turned down his offer to travel with me to the beach, and woke up the next morning feeling absolutely horrible. The two hour ferry ride through the remains of Typhoon Lekima didn't help, but the beach resort was heaven. I was the only foreigner there, probably because I found it by climbing into a random taxi after the ferry ride and following this cute Thai couple to their destination.

The Beach Natural Resort www.thebeachkohkood.com/indes.php for pictures. My camera had run out of batteries, and no where to buy more at the hotel, so no pictures of my own.

Was able to bargain for a great beachside hut, and spent most of my time dozing by the waves. Imagine swimming alone in a tropical bay, coconuts behind you bobbing in the surf, before heading up to your thatched beach hut. Though since I had purposely avoided the backpacker party spot, and turned down the German, was surrounded by Thai couples so it was a little lonely. Fell asleep each night to the surf though, and read trashy books left by previous english speaking tourists.

Comfort Food

I think Bangkok is supposed to have some of the best food on earth. Brought a Lonely planet guide to the city just for the restaurant reviews, and am scrolling through for a good place to eat dinner. The word Vietnamese jumps out at me from the page, and I can't stop dreaming of fish sauce . . .

My first real resturant meal in Thailand (have been frequenting the street carts) is the DC version of comfort food: vermacelli bowl, lime soda, the fish soup with the tamarind and pineapple, and banana fritters. I blame Thuan.

Bangkok

I feel like I'm back in DC, though the transvestite prostitues have been replaced by sleazy old American and British men walking around with young Thai girls. The concrete buildings and traffic jams feel like home. I'm going to try and take a boat down the canal to the post office and the Golden Mount, just to remind myself I'm in a foreign country. Though there's more asians than in DC, there's a lot of Middle Eastern and Ehtiopian immigrants in the neighborhood where I'm staying, as well as tons of American and European tourists, so it really does look like home in some ways.

I'm here getting some care at Bumrungrad Hospital, and so far the experience puts the American medical system to shame. I simply emailed the hospital the day before I arrived with a description of my problem, and they had me set up with an appointment for the day after I arrived. They had me immediately see the correct specialist, and the tests he ordered are all scheduled for the same day less than a week from now. And it all comes to less than a tenth, maybe 1/20th of the US cost. Amazing what life is like when I have money (as compared to the local population). I wonder what the standard of care is like for the average Thai citizen?

Nepal - Setti Valley Organic Farm (I)

Nepal is in the bronze age, people use so few tools. The farm is organic, and the director very progressive about trying new farming theories, but they use local laborers, who really seem to prefer doing everything from a squatting position with their hands. I have only seen four tools in use in my time here: a small hoe, for plowing the fields by hand while bent over, a scythe used by women for cutting grass, a hammer to break the local rocks that the buildings are built from, and a saw for cutting bamboo, the main structural support for anything and everything. Modern conveniences do make an appearance, like the satellite telephones and the bio-gas that we use for cooking, and the ever useful plastic sack, but in general, this farm is human powered and the products dug of the land.

I'm here as a "volunteer", but compared to the village women I'm pretty worthless as a laborer, so I have more the status of eccentric guest. I do a little light work, enjoy the beauty around me, and learn from the SADP Nepal director who runs the farm. A truly enjoyable experience. The food is amazing, the people are so nice, and remarkably happy. 80% of Nepal is engaged either directly or indirectly in agriculture, so I think I'm getting a real feel for the country. I have more in my backpack than most of them own in the world. A grand statement on the materialism of our rich countries.

Last Friday I went on a small hike, joining one of the farm workers who was headed back to his village to pick up his wife. We were 1 hour on a motorbike, then walked for 1/2 hour and crossed a river by cable bridge. Then a two hour jeep ride (everyone was very pleased when the jeep road was built), with a good 20 people plus goods crammed into the back and top of an extra large land rover. Then a three hour walk along the terraced rice fields and forests, with frequent pauses to climb over the landslides that were the results of the recent heavy rains. I didn't make it all the way to the worker's village, so stopped in an earlier one only 2 hours walk from the road head. I have now been to a place completely inaccessible by car or horse. Incredible scenery, though it's been too rainy most days (as it was that day) to see the high mountains, but when you do catch a glimpse of the high peaks, and realize how close you are to the tallest mountains in the world, it's soul stirring experience.

Nepal is pretty clean, and we drink only boiled water, so I've been good except for the raging case of conjunctivitis (endemic in Nepal, though they've managed to eradicate Malaria). It's also a completely different cleanliness standard. The farmhouse is basically a three walled, dirt floored shack, where the farmer and his wife, I, and any guests sleep back against the main wall. The front is open to the bio-gas pit (where we dump the cow manure, collected daily by hand) and the hose where the water for washing, cooking and drinking ends. There is a small kitchen area in the back of the shed, three large wooden chests for storing food and possessions, two tables for eating, a bench and some chairs. In the back, kept dark without windows to avoid flies, is the kitchen: two shelves and a platform for the single stove burner. All of the food itself is prepared on the ground. In terms of cleanliness, the feeling is: if you rinse it with running water (and sometimes give it a good soaping), things are pretty clean. I haven't had any problems yet, and we eat with our hands in Nepal, so the system works pretty well.

Calcutta

Egg roll stands every 100 yards. Thick dough, fried in ghee, they cook an egg on top, layer in onions, spices, Indian ketchup and hot sauce, then load it with your choice of cheese, chicken or mutton. Indian meets China: heaven


The sweets man on the corner has a suitcase full of petit fours that he displays. I buy one in the morning, but always end up giving half to the children who cluster around begging for one. The street kids here are professional quality. One followed me for two blocks, tugging on my arm to make me drop the ice cream cone I was eating. The Indians all found it enormously funny, and I was tempted to give her something for her persistence, but didn't want her to inflict herself on the next tourist.


Fish, the only seafood I've felt comfortable eating in India. I'll have to wait until Thailand to try some more as I don't think it's part of the Nepalese diet at all


The Jewish baker in the marketplace who makes rolls that taste just like the supermarket ones Ya-Ya buys for thanksgiving . . .I had 4 for breakfast this morning.

PayPal must die

So pay pal flipped out when I made a payment from India, and has locked the account to a credit card I canceled before I left! They've mailed a confirmation code to my previous address, and refuse to put the money I tried to pay someone back in my bank account until I enter some goddamn code. Pay Pal is evil, evil. All I receive are form emails, and they are currently making interest on a substantial amount of my money, while I try calling the customer service number in vain. American culture has intruded on my idyll, and I'm not enjoying the experience.

Khajuraho

Spent 11 hours traveling to Khajuraho, at the recommendation of a slightly batty American woman I met in the gardens of the Taj Mahal. The air conditioned train journey to Jhansi was freezing, and I and all my seat mates had the same cold, so we huddled in shawls and sniffed sympathetically with each other. Then the typical train station rickshaw experience. The driver takes you slowly to your destination, while his friend hops along for the ride and tries to convince you to go to his hotel/take his tour/use his taxi. Made it to the bus stand (filled with garbage and the odour of urine), and waited 1.5 hours for the next "express" bus to Khajuraho. Then five hours on an un-air conditioned carriage, crammed in with my fellow passengers. It only really became hell when the bus stopped and all air movement ceased as the driver and his two helpers tried to drum up more business. They were standing packed in the aisles by the 3rd hour, and I was very glad for my window seat. The temples here are worth the ride though, and the hotel is so clean I didn't wear my flip flops in the shower, and they even provide soap, sheets and a towel. $10 a night versus $5 is blowing the budget, but I'm happy for the pampering. No air conditioning though, so the 40+ temperatures are gruelling.

Walked around the temple complex this morning. The sweat was pouring off of me, but the carvings are amazing, the gardens are beautiful, and there are no touts allowed inside. I've uploaded some of the photos, but it's hard to describe how cool they are. Each temple features literally thousands of statues in full relief, with a particular focus on women. There are scenes from every day life (a woman picking up a child, two lovers dodging a monkey), gods and goddesses, lots of war scenes, and some pretty intense erotica. The funniest might be the man fucking a horse, as a women covers her eyes but peeks through her fingers, half horrified, and half intrigued. All perfectly preserved in the soft sand stone, which with the color and the movement of light and shadow as you walk around the building almost makes the images come alive. The sculptors must have loved their job, as each figure is an individual, with a unique facial features. They might show the same god in three successive panels, but each one features a different pose. Worth the heat, which is saying a lot. Then spent an hour under the trees at the refreshment stand, drinking coca-cola and talking to a local MPTD official (Malay Pradesh Tourist Department). He moved here from Delhi, but regrets that the railroad will soon come to Khajuraho, bringing hordes of tourists. I can't imagine how that will change this place. Good for the local economy, and would be happy to be spared the bus ride, but it's nice to be a a sleepy Indian village.