My Southeast Asia Trip Part 4 (and I’ve moved to a new place)!

Posted on October 11, 2009 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

Greetings once again! I apologize for the huge gap in my writings, but it wasn’t for lack of things to write about. I simply didn’t get enough time on a computer to write much of anything, and every time I did, there was no internet. But here I am writing to you from a new location. I was sad to leave my most gorgeous place in the village, my friend Sanit, and a place I felt was home, but it was definitely time to move on. Although my family says they’ll miss me, I will not miss their bathroom facilities. In my month plus in Thailand thus far, I have learned many things, and I’ve decided to compile everything and present it to you all. I hope you learn everything you might want to know if you were planning a visit, so let’s start.

Lessons I’ve Learned

1. Never Wear Your Dress Pants On A School Day.

Because there’s always a chance that after school, you might be brought to the aftermath of a wedding ceremony in a house laden with pig parts. Sanit, my friend the English teacher, wanted to bring me to a wedding. On a…Thursday? Ok, well of course I wanted to see it…but the ceremony had happened that morning since Hilltribe Bride Bi-Weeklyreported that Thursday morning weddings are the new fad, so we just went to say hello or something. There weren’t many people when we got there. Just a few men hacking a huge pig apart. There was blood spattered all over the floor of the house, and when my foot felt something warm on bottom, I knew I had stepped on it. What can you do. So we sat down and Sanit blabbed with the villagers. We never saw the bride or groom. They kept stacking pig parts around us. It was a very, very big pig. The jaw itself was quite large. The house was extremely dark, but not dark enough to block my view of the fairly gross elders. Old men ate around us. Several had nasty growths on their bellies and faces. They stuck their utensils in everyone’s food. All around, a great experience. We finally left. When I stood up to go and brushed myself off, I discovered that I had sat on pork and had it all over the seat of my pants. Lovely.

2. Never Think That After the Pig Parts Soiree Your Evening is Over.

Because there’s a darn good chance that you’ll be whisked away in your porky pants to meditate at a Buddhist temple with really, really chatty nuns. Sanit wanted me to try meditation. Given my ADD-like, unable-to-relax nature, I was game to try it. Unfortunately they were in the middle of chanting when we arrived. For an hour. Not calming songs like that of Gregorian Chant, but nasal-y “singing” on only 4 separate notes. It was pretty much like hearing fingernails scraping a chalkboard for 60 minutes straight, but with 4 different variations of aural agony. Then we meditated. I thought about food a lot but tried to keep a clear mind. After the meditation, I was excited to change and eat dinner. But oh no, the nuns turned to Sanit and started chatting…and chatting…and chatting. For an hour. The first 10 minutes was filled with, “?????????????????? ??????????????? ?????????????????????????????????? AMER-I-GAH ????????????????????? ??????????????? HAHAHAHA!”

Then they blabbed in Thai a lot more. Meditation is not my thing.

3. The Plant You Pick On The Side Of The Road May Be Your Favorite Meal

Seriously, my third day in the village I was already dying because every meal tasted the same. I made it a month with the help of a plant I was taught to find in the wild. Called “Gua Tho-long,*” it is a plant that grows up to 15’ tall, with huge green leaves and white flowers at the top. You pick certain leaves, and, along with a different plant’s green “berries,” boil it all, then squeeze out the bitterness, then chop and re-cook with seasoning. It is served dry and is pretty much the only dish that’s not swimming in water. And it’s DELICIOUS. I couldn’t believe it the first time it was cooked. I had picked these huge leaves and had this delicious breakfast the next morning. Once my family heard it was my favorite, they made it about twice a week. They don’t get bored with things since boredom is basically a way of life there, so they didn’t mind having something once a week, twice a week, or three times a day. I know what you’re asking. “Ms. Cooper, would you actually elect to have this dish if you weren’t stuck in the hilltribes?” Well that’s like asking if I’d kill one of my children to save another. You can’t answer that until you’re in the situation. My comparison is not extreme. Really, though, the chances of this plant starting to grow in America are rare to none, so I think that until one of those days comes, I’ll just have to eat pasta.

*This could be spelled any way you like since the word is Lawa (tribal) and has never been written in Lawa, Thai, or English. There is therefore is no actual correct or incorrect spelling.”

4. Monsters Come In Many Colors, And Even The Most Despised Insects Are Beautiful In Thailand.

Even though I live in the mountainous north and not the tropical south, the insects are still amazing. The moths come in every color of the rainbow. There are lavender ones, yellow ones, blue ones, greenish ones, and more. There are ones that fold their wings to form dart-like arrows, and ones that have what looks like a giant, upwards-sweeping fan. They’re 1cm. long and 4” long. On any given night you can go near a light and find tons of them, and so I just stared one night near a light in back. Yeah, I have the time. One moth had black and white stripes on the top half and was bright orange with white spots on the bottom. Another was grey with metallic silver lining and polka dots. They’re incredible. The spiders are ginormous, with some measuring 5”+. And they’re blue, yellow, red, purple, green, and more. Amazing! The beetles are incredible, and there are insects I never even thought existed. I think American insects need to step it up, seriously. Get some plastic surgery or something.

5. If There Is Electricity, People Will Blast Music From Their Homes.

And no matter where in the world you are, it will always sound like Shakira.

6. The Best Part Of Going Somewhere Is The Ride From My Village To There.

To the villagers, I’m sure the trip to and from “town” is a huge bother, but to me it is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. It puts any scenic route in America to shame. Every time I go on it I notice 20 new things. It’s an hour I love to spend looking out the window, or in many cases, being out in the open air either on the back of a truck or on a moto. There are huge mountains, layers upon layers in the distance, a haunted ghost mountain, animals, traffic congestion (cows), stuck vehicles, people, and beautiful farms galore. There are tree roots a hundred feet long curving down rock faces, shepherds doing nothing about their cows taking up 2/3rds of the road, landslides, parts where the road has disappeared, thunderstorms, and more. Not to mention the mud patch, which is several kilometers of pure mud, not dirt. It takes a good 25 minutes just to do that section.

On one trip back up the mountain to my village, a thunderstorm was just passing. Sanit was driving and I was sitting behind him. We were weaving along the side of a mountain, the rain had stopped a while ago, and there was lightening in the distance. Not just any lightening, but you know that kind they use in the movies where the sky lights up a bit and there’s a distant rumble of thunder? That looks completely fake? That lightening. It was ridiculously beautiful and surreal.

And then there was the ride last week. Sanit and I were just returning from a big overnight village teaching trip, and this is about how the trip went. Remember that it’s not a 1-hour drive, but a trek that you may or may not win without injury to you or your vehicle.

The drive is bad enough during the day. Now try it at night. With pouring rain. In pitch black darkness. And (my worst nightmare) without having had dinner.

Now try it carrying, in total, on a small moto, two people, clothing for 8 days, washed laundry, a sleeping back, a camera, fresh veggies, an additional, unwieldy 10lb. bag of veggies, two folders of government documents, and a box of school supplies. With about 30 pounds of that on my back in my camping pack. With a parka covering half my body and most of my pack, but really protecting nothing.

On a moto meant to carry one or two Thais, not one Thai and a giant American.

This rainy night ride was actually going fine and the rain started to lessen. Basically, I still had a dry patch somewhere on my shorts, which was terrific. Then the rain worsened, and that stuff hurts when you’re riding against it as fast as we were. Then Sanit’s glasses broke. Then he didn’t see the start of the mud patch, so we rushed into in full force. It stoppedus. A huge puddle of mud sprayed all over the two of us. We went through and through, up and down and around huge mudholes. If you’ve ever ridden the Coney Island Cyclone, this mud patch will do about ten times the damage that ride could ever do to your body. We road on with sounds such as, “Reowr, REEEAWR, rawr, roar, uglchchck CRACK!” We hit a rougher rough patch. It’s hard to cross so many deep ditches without injuring the bike in some way. Of course, he didn’t look to see if any part of the bike was missing until 10 minutes later. Whatever it was, it didn’t stop us. All was all right until we hit some flat “smooth” mud and he went all happy-go-lucky, speeding gleefully until I experienced something that felt strangely familiar, that is, driving into the mud full force again and getting showered in mud until we ran into a ditch too deep to painlessly get out. That patch (i.e., many km. of mud and ditches often two feet deep) presented us with the first of many slipping, going backwards, spinning sideways, etc. experiences.

Then we encountered a stuck truck. The driver came over to explain his predicament just as his truck lurched forward by itself. We got off our moto and walked over to help him.

His truck was eight feet away, but it took me 30 seconds to slip ‘n’ slide there. We pushed and with sever squelches in the mud, he was off.

I had to get out and walk because the moto was too weak and stuck to carry us both out of a particularly big hole.

Sanit went riding/slipping up by the side of me, but once he passed I was walking in the dark, sliding along with a huge pack on my back and a sack of veggies.

I found my way back on the bike. We went swerving sideways and then the other sideways. It really wouldn’t be considered a safe ride. The rain started coming down harder.

We reached paved road again.

We reached fog. “Heave left!” I yelled, half joking. It was truly that hard to know where the road was going. Sanit took that to mean that speeding would be a good thing to do.
Although I was enjoying the ride somewhere in my strange mind, I was cold, wet, and sore all over from sitting on part seat and part back bar. I’d never wanted rice so badly.

There was traffic congestion in the middle of the fog.

We got through the fog and reached our village.

We got to my house and I got off the moto, looking ridiculous with mud splattered all over my wet self. It had been a long, tough trip with nearly five hours in total of bumping and balancing in a truck and on a moto.
“Goodnight,” Sanit said. “Goodnight,” I replied, and walked into my house.

There was no rice.

7. If A Snack Here Says “Cream Filled,” Don’t Trust It.

Because they have no idea what it really means, and they’ve proved many times that they can’t write with correct English grammar. I’ve tried three varieties of cream-filled fails. First came the Wafer Fill Chocolate and Milk Cream bar. This was a square of rather dry wafer sticks just bursting with cream. Except the “cream” here was a chocolate-y, chalky, somewhat nasty substance. I felt cheated because of buying this snack, even though it cost me about 15 cents. But they tried. Then there’s Gallame, the sweet that says, “Delicious, Full of Cream, Full of Flavor, Healthy.” It is none of these things. Lastly there was the Milk Cream Filled Corn Snack, which had a slow start and no middle. Literally. The package showed cream just dripping out of the snack, which looked like a larger version of Captain Crunch. It was not good, and not only did it have no milk cream filling, it had no filling at all. It was hollow. Fail on all cream-filled sweets.

8. Realize That If There’s A Wedding One Week, Chances Are There’ll Be A Funeral The Next.

I kid you not. Sanit told me there was a funeral and said he wanted to take me to it. As long as I wasn’t going to offend the locals, I was game. Was it bad that I was hoping there was free food? Ok, I know I’m bad, but come on. You would wish too. So we arrived at the funeral, which was really a two-minute walk away. There were quite a few people, including “mourners,” artists painting messages on big posters, and other villagers. I write mourners in quotes because strangely, everyone was in quite a good mood. Laughing and loud chatting was heard ‘round the house, and when we went up the ladder into the house of the deceased, we came upon more people squished inside, chatting merrily away. Apparently people see death differently here. They tell me that they get over death very quickly and don’t dwell on it. I had seen the man who had died walking around a few days before, and he had only died that morning. Imagine organizing a funeral in less than 12 hours! He unfortunately, bless his soul, died from old age and something having to do with upset stomach and diarrhea. How would YOU like to go out with everyone knowing you needed Pepto-Bismol and a good toilet? Dang. So I totally won with the free food, getting unlimited mini jam biscuits. There was some tribal singing and someone read some passages from some book. I understood none of it, though one of the songs definitely had “Hallelujah” in there. All in all, it was not what I expected, and I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable knowing that people were talking about death by feces at my funeral.

9. If You Feel Like Something Is Crawling On You, You Probably Stepped On An Ant Hill.

And they’ll sting and inject their formic acid into you, which they can do over and over again since their barbless stingers don’t cause them to die after stinging. And even if you don’t feel like something is crawling on you, you still may have gotten a leech, which injects a saliva with anesthetic so that you don’t feel anything until you look down and see blood. Awesome.

10. American Kids May Be Disrespectful, But Thai Kids Take Respect To A Whole New Creepy Level.

So the other weekend I had an amazing experience. I was asked to teach at a “camp” in another village. Sanit and I were the esteemed visiting teachers, so we were transported via moto and truck to a village so remote, it took 3 hours of ridiculously bumpy roads to get there. I knew it was a bad start when the conversation went something like this: “Bump, bump, BANG, bump, bumpity, bump…” “Ka-ter-een, after 20km of this good road, we’ll do much more on the bad road…” Yes, the road got so, so much worse. It was fun as long as you don’t mind bumping along on a mountain road that’s much worse than our village mountain one. For three hours! We also drove through a river to get there. I don’t know how their trucks last, but luckily it was a shallow river. The ride is an experience not to be forgotten, and I only hit my head once on the back glass and twice on the guy next to me. Really, though, it was actually fun.

So the most amazing experience was that no foreigner had ever visited this Karen (instead of Lawa) hilltribe village. Do you get what that means? It means that I was the first person ever, from anyone other than Thailand, to visit this place. This also meant that I was probably the tallest to ever step foot there. This means that no one had ever seen or taken real photos of this amazing place, seen the amazing varieties of trees and ferns, met the kids, or anything. This also meant that I was, for most of the kids, the first white person they’d ever seen. You can’t imagine how incredible this was. I can only hope I made a good impression. Some of the kids had been to town before, but since most are from places even further away from civilization, I was the first foreigner they’d ever seen. The kids played it cool, but did they stare when they thought I wasn’t looking! Because their families live so far away on remote farms, these kids actually live at the school, dormitory style. And did I mention that there was no electricity here? It was actually quite depressing even though the kids were extremely happy. They know nothing more, so they deeply enjoy what they have.

Anyhow, the kids were great and actually lived in better facilities than in my village. That is, there were actually buildings made of concrete. The teachers also lived with the students, one teacher in a private room to about 15 students, aged 5-18. This meant that the kids slept on hard concrete floors with only a blanket and a mosquito net covering them. Candles were used in the evening and nighttime. The bathroom was one of the most disgusting things I’ve seen, though I think most of the gunk was just candle wax. It really made me feel terrible, but these people were so kind, happy, and giving, so I acted the same back to them. They were so respectful that it really was creepy. One time, for instance, I needed to go to the bathroom. I went inside to my dormitory, where I was staying with one of the teachers in her room. As usual, the kids fell quiet and stared. The bathroom was being used. No biggie, I walked outside and started going back across the bamboo bridge. “Ka-ter-een, Ka-ter-EEN!” I turned and saw the school’s English teacher running towards me. “They done with bathroom, you use now.” Yes, the girls had yelled to one another that I, the all-important person in this mini-village, had needed to go to the bathroom, and that it needed to be vacated immediately, and then those girls had informed the English teacher, who had come running after me to tell me that it was now free. I felt so, so bad. The kids would bring you food, water for brushing your teeth, anything. They were so willing to help but so, so shy.

I have to talk about the food though. It was INCREDIBLE! I had actual cooking that involved cooking more than one vegetable. They really knew how to cook here, and for each meal all of us teachers would join together and talk, which was great fun even if I only understood about 5% of what went on. Sadly, some of the teachers spoke better English than the English teacher. Not a good sign. The food, man, the food. There would be about 5 main dishes at every meal, and everything I tasted was amazing. Even the most weird-sounding thing, like morning glory greens, was fantastic. They’d actually use this modern method of cooking called mixing several different things together to make a dish, so there were soups, meat dishes, fish dishes, omelets, gravies, noodle dishes, rice dishes, sauces, etc. I stuffed my face at every meal. Of course rice was served with every meal, but it wasn’t the meal, so I didn’t mind. Once, I got super excited because out from the cooking place came…noodles! It was elbow macaroni. Wow, I thought, my day can’t get much better than this. Then I saw that they mixed in things…like baked beans…and weird soy protein strings…and cabbage. Ok, so the pasta was made of rice anyhow, but I tell you, I’d take that wrong dish over my village’s dishes any day. The rest of the food was less odd and was truly great, central-Thai-style cooking. And sometimes they’d even have things like fresh fruit, another modern invention. I ate well here. You can see it in the pictures.

Back in teaching, the older kids were having a grand time, though I just don’t have the room to go into detail. They found it fascinating to play the simplest games, and loved any activity we did with them. When I gave out a few postcards from NY as prizes (it was all I had brought with me, unfortunately), the winners all ran up after and asked for my autograph. In broken English, of course. The last day, they all had their pictures taken with me, giggling insanely because they didn’t know how to handle this occurrence. I’m not even going to mention the part where they made me sing and dance in front of them. They were collapsing with laughter, so hey, I did something right, right?

It was truly a great experience, and so many kids ran to wave goodbye as we…waded across the river. Remember the one we drove through to get here? Well, a huge storm the day before had caused everything to flood, so everything had to be carried across. The moto, my pack, and our supplies were carried across by generous teen boys. It was a sight to behold with the water up to my thighs, I tell you. Not only was the food good, but we were treated with such warmth, kindness, and respect. I’d go back in a heartbeat.

11. They Don’t Hate Dogs Everywhere In Thailand.

They actually fed the dogs at the village mentioned above. Not meat. Not bones. Not dog food, silly. Can you guess what? You know where I’m going. Yes, they fed the dogs rice. White, cooked, leftover rice.

12. Thai Hawker Food Is So Awesome That Before You Know It, You’ve Spent Tons Of Money On Food Ten Dollars.

So it was goodbye to my village and hello to a 5-hour-long un-air conditioned bus to Chiang Mai. Onto the next step of my journey! I arrived and took a tuk-tuk (a small, open-air three-wheeled taxi) to this town I knew nothing of. Of course I didn’t have a map, so I walked around and wonder of wonders, after asking some folks and walking some more, I actually found a place to stay in a very cheap but well-respected guesthouse (hostel). I decided to stay for two nights, and the next day, I rented a bike and road all over town. I tell you, renting that bike for 24 hours was the best $1.20 I ever spent.

I rode all over, turning onto the little streets, finding small markets, turning onto other small streets, grabbing a 50-cent smoothie, etc. etc. I road outside the city castle walls and into the really busy part of Thailand’s second largest city, and there I found a supermarket. While this may not sound exciting to many of you, it was exciting to me because a.) I love food and supermarkets, and b.) I knew it would be a great way to see all the normal, commercial foods and wrong eats. And I tell you, there were so many wrong eats. It was a normal store until you came upon the fish strip snacks, the cuttlefish chips, the floating-things-in-your-drink quencher, the entire pastry section, the “burgers,” and more things that God never intended Thai people to make in hopes of imitating Western food. I just had to get something, so I got an odd drink and a bread loaf. It was so wrong, and sweet with onions and something else, but for some reason I found it delicious. Later on I found a street stall selling ice cream, and it was here that I consumed something neither God nor man ever wanted created: Ice cream served inside bread, with peanuts, red sauce, something sprinkled on, and rice. My friend had warned me about the bread part, but I just couldn’t seem to escape the rice. I don’t know why it was added since it has no taste within the ice cream, but it was edible. Further on I got noodles at a roadside stall, then banana fritters, then about five more dishes. Then I biked further outside the city limits and found the motherload, a huge market with what must have been Chiang Mai’s major wholesale food market, and I only found it because I was biking in some random back alleys. There was every fruit and vegetable you’ve never seen, every cut of meat, all kinds of drinks and dishes, sauces, flopping fish and other creatures, and more. From the looks of everyone there, who looked stunned, I take it that I was one of very, very few foreigners who had every found this place. My day was amazing, and I’d tasted about 20 dishes for about 10 dollars. It was incredible. I was so full that the next morning, I had an upset stomach. I took a bike ride, had a 30-minute chat with a monk by a lovely temple and a pond filled with monster lily pads and tin homes on stilts, then returned the bike. My stomach still hurt, so I walked a different way to my guesthouse, on another tiny back road, and got a smoothie. Then I noticed that this particular hut was serving food, and so I did what anyone else with a tummy ache would do and ordered a spicy green curry. I tell you, that was the best dish I had in all of Chiang Mai.

So, folks, I took a flight from northern Thailand to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, where I now reside. I have already gone on two trips within Malaysia, but those stories must wait until next time. I am having a wonderful adventure and hope that the fall season is lovely back where you all are. I love hearing from you, so keep those messages coming!

Until next time, and with a full stomach of non-rice edibles,

Coop

PHOTOS – Southeast Asia Part 1

Posted on September 29, 2009 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

Baby’s first photo album…yes, this is the first time I’ve put pictures up on here! I got so many requests and honestly, this is the easiest way for everyone to see everything. So here are a few photos from my trip thus far. Comments are welcomed!

Taken in La Oop and Posor, Thailand.

Due to Posterous not letting one caption photos as of yet, I’ve included captions by photo number below:

(1) I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these in America…

(2) This is where I live. Rather sunny, eh?

(3) This is the kind of house I live in.

(4) Why go any further?

(5) A village shepherd.

(6) This was so amazing in person…a picture doesn’t do it any justice…

(7) I just like this one.

(8) A cabbage farm.

(9) A Lawa (tribal) woman.

(10) The spiders here are HUGE and amazing.

(11) This is me singing and dancing as a guest teacher in a remote village. You should be glad you missed it. The singing and dancing part.

(12) My last class…

(13) 4 of my 5 little brothers and sisters. Government mandate haircuts.

(14) One of my favorite photos.

(15) It’s not so amazing here, but so amazing in person.

(16) Was there mama part of a wedding supper?

(17) The best lookout spot for hundreds of miles.

(18) This thing was HUGE and incredibly beautiful. Lui non?

(19) Cabbage massacre. Several were severely injured, and dozens were killed.

(20) How many get to play fooootball with this kind of backdrop?

(21) This was a nice patch of garbage and bamboo as of two nights ago. A mini landslide after a storm took it all out, and the schoolboys wanted to mug for the camera. I love how this came out, and it helps give a size perspective.

(22) (self-explanatory) It’s one of our pet rhinoceros beetles. Obviously.

My Southeast Asia Trip Part 3 (and I’m still existing on rice)!

Posted on September 24, 2009 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

Hey everyone! Guess what? I didn’t have any rice this week! You know that of course I’m lying. Of course I had rice. But to be honest, I did get something different. We made fries from pumpkins and potatoes, and had them with Heinz’s 58th variety, Thai ketchup. It was amazingly greasy. Pumpkin fries in a wok? They were delicious, but it could be because I’ve had only rice for the past 4 weeks. Anyhow, from the emails and notes I got regarding my last email, it seems as if I must tone it down this week. I think a few of you took me a little too seriously! Of course I’m writing about my experiences here, but I want it to be clear that I’m not complaining so much as trying to make my time here sound as awesome as it is, and just as interesting and entertaining for the reader. I’m having a really great experience and want to tell my stories to you all, so please enjoy.

As usual, the internet is in short supply. I’ve decided to go a different route this week. Many of you have written in, so this week I’ve done my best to answer reader questions. Let’s start with this popular one I received all the way from Guam!

Q: Coop, could you go into more detail about what you actually eat with the rice? You said you ate various vegetables and rice. What are they? How are they cooked? Is it tasty? Typical of Thai food? Do you ever find any…foreign ingredients in it?
-your friend, Guam

A: Ah, good question, Guam. What we eat are usually vegetables that are either completely different here, or not even seen in America. Even if it’s a similar vegetable variety, it’s usually cooked in a different way from how we Americans would cook it. But if you ate here, you’d realize that everything starts to taste much the same. So we’re given a portion of freshly cooked rice in the morning, cold rice for lunch, and fresh rice for dinner. The vegetable might be cabbage, or baby cabbage, or an Asian lettuce, or some weird, ridged, long, green veggie, or mini white eggplants, or green leaves, or bamboo. But almost everything is prepared in the same way. A bit of oil goes in a wok over the fire, small garlic chunks are added (with skins), and then the cut vegetable is added. Mysterious seasonings are sprinkled on. These might include salt, or pork seasoning, or various viscous liquids. Then water is added and the thing is covered. It cooks for a while, and this makes everything the consistency of something that’s been stewed or simmered for a long time. It’s a veggie in a bowl of seasoned water/borderline soup. If you recall Arrested Development’s hot ham water, well…I think this is probably very similar.
The cooking is not typical of Thai food, but is my tribe’s food. It’s very simple to make, and when I cooked one time, they were shocked I could do it. Seriously? It’s oil, garlic, the veggie, seasoning, and water. Pretty simple. It’s tasty the first time. As for the foreign ingredients part of the question…there are so many things and creatures that are in the food that we’re not even going to go into it.

Q: I heard your multiple comments about a lack of toilet paper. I also heard that you have a 1-year-old baby in your household, so I’m curious. Diapers…?
-Terri Fyedbutt Coorious

A: They don’t do diapers.

Q: Yo dawg, you know me, I’m a party animal, and while I know you’re lame and don’t do that stuff, I still figured you’d know the party scene. I have a 3-part question. First, what’s the night scene like?
-awesome dude in kolej

A: Ah, terrific question. We finish eating at 7PM. Kids do homework or go to temple, or play with the limited number of toys. Parents and grandparents talk and smoke their ginormous pipes. Friends sometimes visit. There are also chores, such as getting water, washing dishes, or sweeping, though they tend to enjoy sweeping most when we have the open bowls of food lying on the ground so that the dirt and partial creature particles can gently float into my meal. Sometimes I go to my pal’s home (the English teacher I made friends with here) where we’ll talk and eat bizarre dishes, such as passion fruit, fish sauce, and red pepper. Or instant noodles (YES! Ate that twice.) with lemon, red pepper flakes, chilis, and cabbage. Or lemon with red pepper and salt. Sometimes I’ll crochet or read. That’s the usual evening.

Q2: And the street scene? Loud and crazy? Hot chicks?

A2: Lots of pigs roam the streets. And piglets. And chickens, homeless dogs, the
occasional crab or water buffalo, cows… Motorbikes frequently pass by, as does the
occasional pregnant woman.

Q3: Lastly, I need a great hangover food. I often party hard, and I expect

I’d party harder over there. What do you recommend for a
great hangover brunch?

A3: Rice.

Q: What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve done so far?
-your mother doesn’t want to know the answer to this question

A: Seriously, it’s a pretty safe place with the exception of the motorcycle riding. It’s what you have to do to get from point A to point B. There’s nothing I can do about it, so please don’t yell at me. But to answer your question, the most dangerous thing thus far has actually been the farming, no joke. On my family’s farm, for example, we had a ride there where I had to entrust my life to a 15-year-old, walk for a long time, and start farming only to hear the father yell. Three people and translations later, I found out it was because a colorful snake had bitten him. Poisonous? Naturally. So he motored back with one hand and was driven to the “hospital” an hour away. He had to stay overnight because his arm was so swollen. As for myself, I discovered that rice farming is in fact almost back-breaking work. I knew it was hard and thankless, but I learned that the taller you are, the harder it is. You can’t duck below the grass, so you have to stoop in a most uncomfortable way, and the blades of grass, weeds, and bugs really get at you when you’re down under the canopy of rice. That stuff is big. I am now a master with a curved machete. I also got two more leeches, cuts that kept bleeding, etc. The mom got a machete cut on her thumb following week. You also work on super steep mountains that you can easily slide down, etc. It ain’t exactly safe.

Q: You still haven’t told me what you’re doing there.
-Lori

A: Technically this isn’t a question.

Q: Could you just answer her bloody question?
-Everyone else

A: Wait, how did you—

Q: Please?
-Don’t push it

A: Ok, well, it’s a long answer that I can explain better in person, but basically I knew I always wanted an adventure, and I was always interested in Southeast Asia. After living in NYC for a while and becoming frustrated with many things, I decided that now was a terrific time for a volunteer and travel adventure. And why not do it all by myself? That’s often my favorite way to explore. Since I knew I wanted to volunteer and work with my hands, but not pay to help others (which just ain’t right!), I had to research opportunities for months. I found some small sites that would exchange work for living and food, so I contacted many places and set something up. Eventually I decided where to go, how long to go, and what to do. Well, I’m still in the midst of deciding that, but I have a rough idea. I found a woman who would bring me up to the hilltribe village I’m in now. Cities across the world may be different, but in the end they’ve still got many similar characteristics and features. Also, true need occurs in rural areas where there is less funding and fewer resources. So to make long story short, I’m volunteering and traveling across Southeast Asia, and the biggest portion (this hilltribe volunteering) is almost over. It’s been amazing living somewhere else, and I feel completely at home here. After this (and I leave next week!), I’m heading to Malaysia for a bit of travel, then to volunteer there. After that, more traveling and possible volunteering. I love to help, and there are ways to do that in truly amazing places. I hope to bring everything I learn and see back to the U.S. with me so that I have new perspectives. Why wait until I’m old to travel and have an adventure? The time for me to explore is now, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.

If you want the long story of why I came, feel free to ask and I’ll tell ya.

Q: Do you ever wake up and still think you’re back at home in the States?
-Ignorant in Iowa

A: Oh, totally. I mean, often at home I’ll wake up, brush some ants off myself, see mountains out the windowless window, have rice for breakfast around a fire with people who don’t speak my language, and go to the bathroom in a porcelain hole with the opportunity to pet a pale greenish-pink lizard. Not that I have.

Q: Why don’t you just wash yourself in bleach when you arrive home?
-The Mystified Morristown Monk

A: I very much appreciate the suggestion, but it wouldn’t clean me and would only make me more pale. Besides, Michael Jackson did that and look what happened to him. Ummm…too soon?

Q: Ok, miss complainer. If you have such trouble communicating with your village folk, then why didn’t you study Thai before leaving?
-Smart Alec

A: Ok, thank you for that. Here’s the deal. First, I’m traveling to at least four countries, so getting good at any of ‘em would be hard. Like many languages, Thai is both regional and often incorrect in phrasebooks. The language books work for Bangkok and most surrounding and Southern provinces. Up here in the NW near Burma, it’s slightly different, but enough to mess up even “yes” and “no.” The writing is all crunched together and made up of loopy lines. It’s not the “nam pla” or “pad thai” English-ized Thai language that we struggle with in restaurants. It’s a completely different alphabet, just like Japanese. The main thing, however, is that they rarely speak Thai here! In fact, it’s the secondary language. There are about eight hilltribes in Thailand (who live in mountains, not hills), and each has their own distinct language. I live in a Lawa hilltribe. Not only are there no phrasebooks for my hilltribe, the Lawa language itself is different across northern Thailand! We’re not talking accents or slight differences; we’re talking about pretty much completely different words. The kids don’t even learn Thai until they’re about 6.
All of this is a tremendous excuse to make up for the fact that I’m terrible at learning languages and have very few words and phrases under my belt. But I get around.

Q: Could you please provide us with some cool facts of the week?
-someone wondering if the P.E. teacher is still a chub.

A: I’ll do you one better:

Sad or awesome factoids of the week. You decide:
-During free time, the kids like to play with mini machetes.
-One person in my family of seven has ever been to a supermarket.
-Cabbage is the cash crop.
-The mom enjoys trying to make English jokes with me, and upon doing so, enjoys even more giving me a good, friendly punch to my arm or leg. This has caused me to bruise more than once.
-All of the following English phrases I’ve seen on notebooks and folders:
“Open Funny for friend”
“I’ve never care what tomorrow comes I’ve care just only today that have you.”
“ The most manifest sign of wisdom is continuing cheerfulness./Happyness collection
Spicy”
“Blessings are not counted in gold of dividends, but bythe love we share with
family and friends” (almost touching)
“be happy.. I want you to feel relax as we become friends/Sweeten memos”
“Hello! Catty/Heaven and earth to be together forever with you.”
“So sometime I let you be/Sometimes you let me be/I remember reading a book saying/Whenever you’re in dire strait/of your relationship/If one of them dare to move/back astep/And that would mak the two/go on moving”
-Nothing was mistyped in the above factoids

Q: What’s the deal with electricity? And the internet?
-everyone

A: Even though I’m in a third world country, it’s not as bad as you think. It’s actually a bizarre mix of sub-colonial times and some of the modern world.
There are motorcycles, but the worst roads I’ve ever seen. Some of them are beautifully paved, and then 5 km. along you’ll reach a patch so bad that it’s dangerous to go through the muddy muck. There are ravines dropping right down one side of the road, and jungles going steeply up the other. And traffic congestion in the way of cows and water buffalo. If you’re sitting in the bed of a truck, the mud gets so deep that you can hang your arm over the side and touch it. Wheel alignment is frequently needed I’d guess.
There is electricity, but my family HATES when I have the light on, so much that they’ll ask me to move outside where there’s natural light. If I leave to go to the bathroom, it’s off when I come back. To save money on electricity? I suspect they don’t personally pay it. Besides, the tv is ALWAYS on. What, is tv that much cheaper to pay for? I don’t get it.
There is a mouse-infested “kitchen” where you cook by fire only. When the food cools down, it’s cold forever.
There are luxury bathroom holes for the teachers at the school, but the kids go in the woods. It sort of makes me sad.
As far as the internet goes, well, that’s why I’m rarely on here. I’m actually impressed that the power lines go all the way up here. The fact that internet is here shocks me. I have to borrow my pal’s laptop when he’s not using it, which is very rare, and there’s no guarantee even then that it will work. It’s pretty spotty and often cuts out in

Q: Could you give me an example of a conversation you might have in your home? I’m trying to understand just how much English they know.
-Biobob

A: I can definitely give an example. Janjira, my little sis and the best English speaking student in the village, was talking with me about science yesterday. Here’s what I remember:

Janjira: I be surprised if somebody came up with a scheme for substructure that worked. It would be based on some evidence, but as far as I know right now there isn’t any. You be surprised, would you yes? There are parallels between the leptons and the quarks: very, very strong parallels. Three families in both cases. So it seems likely that if the quarks were someday we, I mean I, no, proved composite, so would be the electron, the neutrino. And there’s certainly yes not evidence for that. So far nothing has pointed in that direction of bistr-no, um, sorry, another layer of constituents underlying the quarks. Nothing points to that. But you can’t rule it out completely, of course. Kat-er-een, you and I know that the present theory, the standard model, is a low-energy approximation of some kind to a future theory, and who knows what will happen with a future theory? But at the moment nothing seems to point to composite quarks or composite leptons.

me: Do you still believe superstring theory is likely to be a profitable approach to making progress in particle physics?

Janjira: It’s promising, yes no? I think yes, it promising, for the same reason. My class not to work on string theory itself, but though I did play a role in the prehistory of string theory. Primary it was thought that string theory and superstring theory might lead to the correct theory of hadrons, strongly interacting particles. Particles that are connected in some way with the nuclear force. But there was a serious problem there, because superstring theory predicted a particle with zero mass, zero rest mass if you want to call it that, and spin 2, a spin of 2 quantum units. Well, it happens to that no such hadron was known and it was pretty clear that there was no good way to fit it in. But then the suggestion was made in our group, and maybe elsewhere as well, that we’d been looking at the theory wrong — it was actually a theory of all the particles and all the forces of nature.

me: But that meant changing the coupling strengths from a strong coupling to the extremely weak coupling of gravity, right?

Janjira: Well yes so to that it meant a factor of 1038 in the scale of my, I mean not my [giggles] theory. The natural scale of the theory had to be altered by a factor of 1038. That’s a very considerable change, you think yes? But doing that, we could interpret the particle of spin 2 and mass zero — it was the graviton, it was the quantum of gravitation, required if we go to having a gravity theory, for example Einstein’s gravity theory, which is the best one so far, and quantum mechanics. So the whole theory was reoriented then, toward being connected at least, with the long-sought unified theory of all the particles and all the forces. Once you or me find the principle, theory is not that far behind. And that principle is in some case a symmetry principle always.

Q: What’s the coolest thing you’ve done so far?
-your boss, if you had one

A: Ah, good one. Well, I think I’m most thrilled when I get to take walks and explore. I took a walk the other day to the nearest village (4km away). It was up and down quite a few “hills” and I’m pretty sure that no white person had ever visited their village. Most people had seen a white person before, but some of the young kids and elders hadn’t, I believe. People literally stopped mid-movement and just stared in shock. Kids stopped playing, people stopped chopping wood…teens drove by and yelled friendly greetings. The walk was wonderful. I know people think I’m crazy, but there’s nothing like exploring on your own. I felt pretty safe, too. I was still near my home turf. I could just stop, look at the most incredible scenery around me, and smile. There was the most gorgeous landscape of rice patties I’ve seen yet, impossibly green and going on and on in waves across the fields, with the mountains as a backdrop. I ate wild passion fruit growing on the side of the road. I saw the most beautiful spiders and bugs in my life. I saw the clouds coming over the mountains looking ominous, but just gently rolling in as dusk set in. I saw the sun set over my village. It was all amazing, and it was just a walk.

Ok people, that’s all for now. I must get going. Big adventure today! Thank you to all who have written, sent things, and offered to help donate towards a college scholarship! I am looking into how to work everything out right now, so it will be a while before I have internet again or can come up with a definite plan. I will eventually, I promise. Sorry for anything spelled wrong…I’m in a rush! I have to start planning my next leg of the journey and leave for my 100km roadtrip today, so until next time, much love!

over and out,
coop

My Southeast Asia trip Part 2 (and I haven’t died yet)!

Posted on September 14, 2009 by antitouristtraveler under Uncategorized

Howdy, folks!

Hopefully you’re all enjoying what sounds like pleasant weather, as documented by the only English television station, the BBC. I’m ignoring the Disney Channel, which afforded me the unfortunate opportunity to watch the Jonas Brothers with the kids for the first and last time. They must be annihilated immediately.

By the way, a friend of mine asked why I called the last email “Update#2” instead of “#2 Update.” Yes, that’s why I’m friends with him.

While any email that goes so far as to mention the Jonas Brothers is already a complete failure, I will do my best to make the rest of it better. As usual, I have a very small window of time on the internet here, so I am going to report on the most recent happenings, newspaper style. Feel free to read all the headlines, or just the ones that catch your eye. Please don’t keep re-reading the part about the Jonas Brothers. Thanks.

NEW STUDY FINDS MICE THRIVE ON PURE RICE DIET

Octomice Births More Popular than Ever

Seriously, I think they played “Red Light, Green Light” last night. The mice are so loud that I find it hard to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. They’re especially rowdy from 3-5am, and don’t seem to appreciate the fact that it’s REM time for me. I’ve had mice nearly everywhere I’ve slept for the past two decades, but these ones top the list in terms of partying. They seem to have races where they push off, and in an open-beam-and-tin-roof house, that means their claws scrape against the tin upon starting, and the wood scratches noisily while they’re running. Then the chattering starts. If these mice were humans, I think they’d be valley girls since they squeak nonstop. They cause so much noise and actually cause several things to fall off shelves every night. That rice does something’s body good, I guess. As for food, yes, I started bear-bagging it after discovering my precious ration of American snacks torn into. Oy.

SCANDAL IN THE VILLAGE!

If you thought that village life meant that everyone was innocent, mild-mannered, and similar to one another in all ways, well, it’s not exactly true. Mostly, but not all. Apparently, two years ago, a guy in his twenties who lives down the road was arrested for some sort of illegal activity. Communicating through broken English, I gathered that it was the trafficking of some illegal drugs that landed him in the (likely bamboo) clinker. He recently came back from jail, so everyone was excited to have him back. They say he’s a “changed man.” The thing is, even in such a remote village as this, people will still be people. Those videos you always see of kids in third-world countries dutifully learning, super poor, in shredding school uniforms, but without making a peep and all ears? Those only show one side of the story. I feel that same scene could be filmed here, but people still are individuals, no matter the society. The kids here are very pleasant and pay attention for the most part, but they are still unique individuals, no matter how much the government or surroundings might try to mold them. Yes, they all look the same, have the same haircut, and wear the same uniforms by government rules. But they’re all different. There are the dutiful, quiet, hard workers, the loud, obnoxious kids, the class clowns, the slightly spoiled brats (in this case, that means that one child has a newly donated coat), the kids who don’t try, the “special” kids, the average kids. I think it’s the same no matter where you go, which I find interesting. Besides, if every child was the same, wouldn’t it be boring? Wouldn’t there be no variety, no challenge? What do you think?

TP FACTORY PROVES TO BE ENORMOUS SUCCESS

Villagers Owe Triumph to Visiting Brainstormer

Free Time No Longer in Surplus

Zero Carbon Toilet Paper Plant Promoting LEED-Certified Buildings All Across Thailand

Kathryn Cooper Named New TP Buddha

Voting Shows New TP Buddha with Higher Ratings than Revered King and Queen

Lies.

STARVING WOMAN AND FORMER PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON PROPOSE BILL THAT WOULD CHANGE DEFINITION OF “JUNK FOOD” TO “MEAL SUPPLEMENT”

I recently discovered Thai snacks. There aren’t a whole lot here, but there are a few for sale at the corner market. My American snack food and protein bar supply was soon running low, and despite the delicious, filling, and nutritious standard meal of rice and UDG (Unidentified Dying Greens), I decided to take matters into my own hands and splurge on some snacks. Seriously, sometimes the meals are not good by anyone’s standards, and a snack is necessary. Guess what most of the products are made from? If you guessed rice, YOU’RE CORRECT. Puffed rice with honey and black sesame seeds, rice cakes with brown rice syrup, cookies, rice byproduct snacks, etc. etc. At least it’s something different, and at an average cost of about 21 cents per snack, I’m not breaking the bank. Nor am I adding any nutrition to my diet, but in this place, that’s just how it is. This is a new way for me to get fat(ter), cheap(ly)! While there was delicious food in Bangkok, here it’s another matter. Entertaining, though. The cookies, for example, come in four flavors. Chocolate, coconut, coffee, or chicken. Yum!

THAILAND VOTED GREENEST COUNTRY 2009

Sets Example by Producing No Garbage or Landfill Waste

That’s because they throw it all out their back window.

HENRY SUGAR INSPIRES RICH AMERICAN TO SEED CLOUDS AND RAIN REAL $$!

It all started innocently enough. “Ka-ter-een, I need your help. I want to make pretty my room,” goes the rough translation of what my li’l sis said. Sure, of course I can help. She needs to buy wallpaper. Okay, no problem. I suspect I’ll buy it for her, but whatever. “You come with me to buy?” Sure, I’d love the chance to go “into town” (translation: about 20 little shops on the main road, and some other markets, and a bigger population than here) to do anything! This means I might get some real food. I’m told we’ll go on Tuesday. Tuesday morning rolls around, and I’m excited to go somewhere different after school. But no, we’re going this morning. Skipping school for wall decorations? Um…okay. The priorities are a tad messed up. So 15-year-old Janjira, 6-year-old Dom, and I start walking to the main road. Main as in a sometimes-paved 2-lane mountain path. We wait about 45 minutes for a truck to come, pile into the truck, and go partway, bumping along in the back. It’s either this or motorcycle. Soon we get out. I pay for our ride. Another truck with some space in the back comes along, so we get in that. Down into town we go, total trip length = 1 hour, or 2 if you wait a long time. I pay for that ride, too. The town is actually so far down and far away that there’s about a 15 degree temperature difference. So we get into town, we meet up with the father, and go to a market. First I’m asked to buy Janjira two posters. No problem. Then I buy them snacks. Then I’m asked to buy the dad sandals. Okay. Then we walk a few steps, and…can you buy us a wok? We need a new one, they say. Okay… Then we go into town, where I buy a few more snacks and food things. Oh wait, have to get wallpaper. Pay for that as well as drinks for the 4 of us. Oh, let’s get lunch. Pay for that. And I really needed bananas, but the ones I had seen were purchased by the time I came back. Well, if you buy Ovaltine for us, we’ll buy you bananas, they say. Okay, so I buy them Ovaltine. And then we wait 2 hours for a truck to bring us back up to our village. This time it rains, but the people are friendly, so before we’re fully soaked, we’re all under a tarp in the back of the truck. And I pay for the ride back for us. What I’m not mentioning includes the stunningly gorgeous ride, the soybean and rice fields, the sun hitting the mountains, the banana trees, the fact that I’m stared at and that no one speaks English, the tasty and not-so-tasty snacks, and the general experience of it all. The part I’m unfortunately concentrating on, though, will probably get me much flack. It’s the fact that I felt…used. I know I’ll be thought of as rude, uncaring, and ungracious, but that’s not how it is. I don’t mind helping them out at all. Not at all! I expected to spend a lot of money on them. I’m more than happy to help them! They’re feeding and housing me, after all. And really, I don’t blame them for wanting things and asking me. No matter how poor of an American I am, I still have more money than they’ll ever have, whether you convert to Thai money or not. They’re dirt poor. It’s just that I hate that feeling of being invited to help, and then led on, and then asked to buy more and more. I know I sound terrible, but I just wish that someone had warned me, or even that they had asked if I could buy some things for them. Instead, to the foreigner’s eye, it just appears as if they’re walking along, see something, and ask the rich girl (yeah, I never thought I’d be called that, either) to buy it for them. Ah well. Again, if I was in their situation, I would probably do the same thing. They need supplies, and I’m a money source. They’re not trying to use me, but it just…happens. It’s not as if they can communicate that they need me to buy them a lot. But you can’t blame me for having a bit of a sour feeling in my stomach. If you need help or money, just ask me for help or money, but don’t lead me on and make me feel used, aight? Am I that mean?

OBITUARY: CHURKUNREECHASONPOL “BESSIE” THOTAKONTUKSRINSUK, 1

Best Known for Grazing, Massive Poops, and Standing in the Middle of the Road

I got to see a cow slaughter. While I know that this will disgust many of you, I thought it was awesome. Okay, okay, so I missed the actual killing because I got out of school five minutes late, but I saw most of it. The cutting, the different sections, the pulling out of this and that. It was really amazing. She was such a pretty blonde thing, too.

“WHAT THE EEP?!” STORY OF THE WEEK

The other morning I wake up and was make my way out onto the deck, walking to the “kitchen” for breakfast. The mom runs onto the deck with me, holding her slingshot, a grin on her face. She points to the tree and aims. Pfffwit! She hits her mark, and a bird drops 20’ onto the ground below. Supermom™ scampers back out front, down the stairs, and onto the ground below the house, runs out amongst the trash, picks up the bird, and brings it back, handing it to her son and my “little brother,” Dom (age 6). Dom grabs the bird, waving it at me, smiling gleefully. The tiny bird regains consciousness and looks dazed as Dom pets it, then puts it in a cage. “Why did she hit the bird?” I asked in so many words to Janjira, my “little sister,” who speaks more than 20 words of English. The response, in so many words: “Dom likes birds.”

WTF.

OXYMORONS AND OXYMORONICAL/RIDICULOUS THINGS:

Clean dishes.
Dogs being a man’s best friend. Not true here. No, calm down, they don’t eat them. They just ignore them. The dogs here are essentially strays, but they’re comfortable around humans who promise to pretend they don’t exist. MAN do they give you the sad eyes.
Clean clothes.
Washing anything and/or trying to stay clean.
The P.E. teacher. In one of the few places where the kids are actually fit, and happily play outdoors, and where they’re poor, and exist on rice, and where they desperately need the chance to use class time for actual learning, they have a P.E. teacher.

And he is fat.

SHOWERS

Why?

YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME ABOUT THE GARBAGE

But I’m serious. I was getting water the other morning (below and on the side of the house, which is on stilts) and the mom didn’t know I was down there doing chores. She was also doing chores. She swept the garbage over the edge onto me.

Okay folks, that’s all for now. I love all your feedback, so keep it a’coming!

And no, I’m not suffering from “culture shock.” I adjust very quickly, and these anecdotes are simply my way of telling y’all what it’s like. Things are so unsanitary here, and I’ve done many things I shall never speak of. On the flipside, I’ve gotten to do some absolutely wonderful things, such as see the sunset from the raised platform under a 20’ gold Buddha. All alone. With a 360 degree view of the mountains. It was absolutely gorgeous. And I got to go to a monastery, as well as to several farms, which are night and day compared to anything in the U.S. It is stunning here, and I will never forget it. The people are very friendly and welcoming, albeit fairly unwilling to learn anything new. But more on that at a later point in time.

I still want to give the most talented students a chance to go on with their learning. I believe everyone deserves a chance, but if that’s not possible, I want to give at least one child, a very dedicated and motivated student, a chance to study. There are some particularly bright students here who will have to become farmers if they’re not given the opportunity to do something else. There’s nothing wrong with farming, but some of the students wish to be something else, and I want to give at least one that chance. If any of you know about starting an oversees scholarship, or how I would go about setting up donations and/or a fund, please let me know.

Until next time, I will do my best to stay safe and sane. As for all of you, stay safe, stay healthy, and take a hot shower for me. Can’t wait to hear from all of you!

Much love,

Coop

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