Welcome to Vietnam

I'm tempted to think it would have been cooler if my entrance into Vietnam were along the lines of dropping from a Chinook helicopter with my M-16 at the ready while an Army Seargent was screaming, "Charlie! Charlie! They're everywhere!" Actually, that would have sucked if it were for real, so forget I said it. Fortunately, the exact opposite happened; I calmly walked off a very comfortable Boeing 737 into a modern airport and was greeted by a pleasant customs agent who spoke English. Welcome to Vietnam, 21st century style...

The Vietnam experience began in Saigon, a city of six million people and four million mopeds screaming by en masse. (People apparently call it Ho Chi Minh City only if the government's looking over their shoulder.) It's much like the other major cities in Southeast Asia that I've visited: frenetic, cramped, and noisy. And for some reason, the electric lines are out of control. How can this situation be good for anyone? But I have to, begrudgingly, hand it to the communists: they run a pretty tight ship here. There's some semblance of order in the chaos that is palpable: people are actually cleaning up the streets; drivers are obeying the helmet law (which is smart, given how fucking crazy people drive); and roads signs are visible at every intersection. But accidents do happen when you drive like fucking madmen, which they all do, and I saw one live and in living color. Beggars - that mainstay of Cambodia - are virtually nonexsitent, and taxis are actually cars with air conditioning. I also liked that the city has some (albeit limited) public green space. A few parks here or there can make all the difference, if just to provide a respite from the insanity that is otherwise omnipresent. The three or four parks I came across in Saigon were just big enough to turn the roar of engines into a barely audbile din and make it seem as though I wasn't in a metropolis bursting at the seams. Well played, Saigon. Well played.

One of the best things about Vietnam: it's wonderfully cheap. Dinner should cost no more than a buck or two. Beer is 50 cents. Decent rooms for a night are under $15. It's easy to do these comparisons because the unofficial currency is the dollar. Which is weird, if you think about it, since you're in Vietnam. But it kind of makes sense given that one dollar equals 19,000 dong. (Yes, "dong" is the Vietnamese currency.) So if you don't use dollars, you have to use a lot of dong in your everyday commerical exchanges, i.e., an expensive item of jewelry might cost 10,000,000 dong. So the dong sometimes can be too large to handle. (That joke was too easy.)

I should confess, though, that I didn't truly experience the whole city. Whether by design or chance, most tourists are packed into a small area that is hidden away from average Saigon life. Once you're there, there's no mistaking it. The percentage of Caucasians walking around goes from less than 1%, as you'd find anywhere else in the city, to about 75%; signs are all in English; and there's a massage parlor every ten feet. This is where I stayed for three nights. I thought I scored a major find when I came across a boutique hotel that had been recently renovated with rooms that looked like they belonged in a Ritz-Carlton. Price: $9 a night. Score! But there's always a catch because life would never let me have a total victory. At 5:30 a.m. on my first night there, I was rudely awakened to learn that my new favorite boutique hotel was run by a nice elderly couple that kept parrots in their bedroom. These parrots squaked like there was no tomorrow. So I'm thinking, how the fuck do you run a hotel when you have parrots waking up guests at 5:30 a.m.? Maybe I'm taking crazy pills, but that seems objectively ridiculous. I inquired about it, and the owner was like, "Oh, you could hear them?" Yeah, buddy, I could hear them. The whole fucking city could hear them. So I shopped around for a better hotel but, amazingly, a lot of other hotels had parrots as well. (They don't tell you in the guidebook that you have to say, "Hello, I'm looking for an a/c room, and by chance do you have parrots?"). So I figured it was inevitable that I was waking up at 5:30 a.m. no matter where I stayed. My only comfort was the thought of having a nice bowl of parrot soup before I left the city...

The standard "tourist day" in Saigon largely revolves around the Vietnam War. First, there is Reunification (sometimes called Independence) Palace. It's the former home of the South Vietnamese government, when there was such a thing, until Viet Cong tanks rolled in on April 30, 1975 and the country was 'reunited' under communist rule. They have preserved the place just as it was found in 1975, which makes it interesting not just for its historical significance but also for its (admittedly less important) insight in to 1970's interior design. Yellow shag carpets? Really, people? Someone thought that was a good idea? Yikes. I seriously wonder how my parents' generation ever survived. Anyway, the place is also entertaining and informative for the government's take on the war. Obviously propaganda at times, with the message being understandably anti-American, it was nevertheless eye-opening to learn about how they viewed the war and what their goal was in "reunifiying" the country. They also put a lot of blame on the French for being the first "imperialists" to try to divide the country. Despite the fact that I sometimes openly laughed at how ridiculous some of the statements were about America, it was a worthwhile experience.

More profound than the visit to Reunification Palace was my visit to the War Museum. Perhaps even more propagandist, it documented many atrocious acts committed by the U.S. while omitting any reference to those committed by Vietnam. Despite this glaring ommission (and many others), the museum nevertheless serves as a terrible reminder of things that occurred that are outside the realm of blatant propoganda. Particularly chilling are the stories and photographs of innocent people, especially children, who fell victim to napalm and dioxin, and the damage it did to subsequent generations. I'll admit that the Vietnam War is, to me, history books, pop culture, and stories from those who lived through it, so I may be out of place to question what happened. But one can't help looking at those pictures and asking, what were we thinking? On the flip side, every time I read about Vietnamese "heroes" who were commended for killing lots of American soldiers, I felt a rising tide of angry patriotism swell deep inside me and I wanted to blurt out to no one in particular, "Maybe we should have bombed you back into the stone age!" I'd catch myself before I did or said anything foolish, remembering that I was in 'enemy' territory and outnumbered 86 million to one, so I kept my mouth shut.

There's a lot more in and around Saigon to see (the standard littany of temples, shrines, etc.), and after eight hours of walking, my feet had had enough and I decided to let someone else do the work. So the following day I took a day tour of the Mekong Delta. It's a few hours drive from Saigon (the duration of which could be cut by 75% if the roads were paved) but a world away. I actually met some people who live on the river and basically never go beyond it. Most are fisherman who catch anything that moves in the water (including pythons. This one is a "baby" at eight feet in length. It was nice to hold for few seconds. The it started to squeeze, and squeeze some more, and then it started to hurt. A lot. It took the help of another guy to finally pry it off me...) The tour also included a visit to a well-known Buddha statue in Vietnam; it's supposedly the largest "fat" Buddha in the country. When I found out the tour included a visit to a Buddha statue, I thought, "Oh crap, not another one." Seriously, I've seen like 20 of these things in less than four weeks. But this one was, indeed, the fatest - and happiest - Buddha I've seen so far.

Another major attraction around Saigon is the Cu Chi tunnels - tunnels that the VC used to avoid and attack American soldiers. You can actually crawl through the tunnels if you're small enough to do so, but the real tunnels were too small for me, so I had to crawl through an "expanded" tunnel for "tourists" (i.e., Caucasians). It's dark, wet, and hot as hell. After just 20 meters of crawling through the tunnels, I came out of the tunnel drenched in what felt like three layers of sweat. (The three layers of sweat are distinct enough that they could be described as follows: The first layer is the "holy crap this is hot" sweat - it has a pungent b.o. aroma with a hint of "I need a shower asap"; the second layer is the "European" sweat - it hits the palate much harder with the impression of not bathing for days and has a bitter, crip after-smell; the third layer is the "fuck me I'm about to die" sweat - a full-bodied odor with strong notes of mildew and decay.) After my near-death experience in the tunnel, I was re-energized when I learned that part of the tour included the opportunity to fire off a few rounds of a vintage AK-47 that the VC used during the war. So I plopped down a few bucks to shoot 10 rounds of the AK. I gotta say, it was a good day.

After three days in Saigon, it was time to move on. I'm a travelling man, heading up the 2700 km coast by bus all the way to Hanoi. So for now, it's been lovely, but I gotta get a move on....

Siem Reap, Cambodia (Thank you for not being as depressing as the other cities I visited in this country)

After a depressing two days in Phnom Penh, Becky and I decided to get out of there as fast as we could -- and by fast, we ended up taking the slowest... bus... ever. (More later on how slow this bus was.) We were heading to Siem Reap, in the northwestern region of the country, home of one of the ancient wonders of the world: the temples of Angkor Wat.

We arrived in Siem Reap and found ourselves pleasantly surprised. It's a very small town that is largely dependent on tourism but has retained some of its small-town charm, and is a very walkable city with tons of decent options for food and drinks all within five or six blocks of each other. (Most of these options are "international." For example, we saw a Mexican restaurant and thought, "Mexican food in Cambodia. We have to try it." Amazingly, the burrito and margaritas we ate were pretty good.) We ended up at a nice hotel a few minutes from the main drag because we wanted as much peace and quiet as possible.

After settlig in, we spent the next few days doing what we had come for: touring the ruins fo the ancient temples of Angkor Wat. It's an amazing array of temples -- about 50 or so in all -- stretched over a region of about 50 square miles. Most are clustered near the main area called, not surprisingly, Angkor Wat. They are close enough together that the hardier tourists (read: younger) visit those temples by bike. (There's a large number of visitors over the age of 40; I'd guess about 25%. This is nice because, as I'll detail later, it means that luxury resorts have been developed to accomodate them, which in turn means that people like Becky and I get to exploit that luxury for free...) Biking seemed like a good idea at first, but it ended up taking us about seven or eight hours in the blazing sun and relentless humidity, so by hour five, I was inventing new curse words as a coping mechanism to deal with the pain in my back, knees, shoulders and most of all, ass. (Some of the neologisms were simple combinations of existing curse words, like assfuckshit. not very original, I'll admit. Other were more offbeat, and I'm still refining them, so they're not ready for publication...)

Back to the main subject: the ruins of the temples are incredible. The temples (almost all Buddhist in nature) were built between 800 and 1100 a.d. by various kings in the region. But calling them temples is a bit of a misnomer because they are really like little cities. Most of them have major perimeter walls, deep moats, and massive gates. It's estimated that about one million people lived in the main temple complex at its peak. The staircases are ridiculously steep and shallow and the doorways, as you can see, are not designed for people my height. Most of the ceilings of the temples have caved in so you have to imagine what they looked like, but even from what remains, it's clear that these were major engineering feats. One of the few temples that remains virtually in tact is the main temple -- Angkor Wat (pictured below) -- that is supposedly the largest religious structure in the world. We were told to get up at sunrise to see this impressive structure, which we did, but the clouds got in the way of the sunrise, so that sucked. The temple really gives you a sense of how much work it took to put these places together, and since it is still basically in tact, it's easy to see the intricate wall engravings and bas-relief on the wall surfaces.

After three days of visiting temples (we hired a taxi for days two and three -- my ass couldn't take another minute on the bike) we had temple fatigue. So we did what any true budget traveller would due: we found the nearest five-star resort and crashed at the pool. Most resorts in the area let you stay at their pool for a fee between four and eight dollars, but we decided to press our luck and avoid paying... and it paid off. Granted, we walked in like we owned the place, but we were still expecting some friction from hotel staff. Didn't happen; on the contrary, the pool boy brought us towels and asked if we wanted to order some drinks. Um, yeah! So that's how we spent days four and five in Siem Reap.

In between our relaxation time at the resort, we also rented a motorbike to explore the country and vist a museum documenting the toll that landmines have taken on the country. (Technically, tourists cannot rent motorbikes in Siem Reap -- because of the risk of people going off the roads and running over landmines -- but we bribed a nice lady to rent her bike for $5.) The museum was a real eye-opener both in terms fo the damage done by landmines and also the history of Cambodia over the last 30 years. It's run by a guy who's spent his last 20 years removing over a million land mines from the ground in Cambodia. Also, the motorbike allowed us to explore areas not generally visited by tourists including rice fields in the middle of nowhere. It was quite a sight to see peasant farmers doing their thing in the fields.

Thus ended our trip to Cambodia. After a week, we had seen enough. Yet before I leave the topic of Cambodia, a few parting thoughts:

First, scams are so prevalent people don't even try to hide them. An example will illustrate this. As I said before, we rented bicycles for $2 a day to see the ruins. We biked up to the entrance, about 7 kilometers away from our hotel, only to find we were at the "wrong" entrance and some guy in a "police" uniform told us we had to pay him $5 so he could take us to the ticket entrance 4 kilometers away. We were suspicious and knew it was a scam, but knew that we were facing a long day of biking so we agreed and got on his motorbike and he took us there. I mean, really, how blantant could this cop make it: "You need to pay me for me to help you." Who does that?? After we bought the tickets, Becky said to me, "Why don't we just not pay him, it's a scam anyway, what can he do?" So we just got on our bikes and rode away. He very lamely tried to follow us, and we basically just told him we wouldn't pay him $5, it was totally ridiculous. He claimed it cost $5 for gas, which was laughable -- the gas for the round trip may have cost him 20 cents, if that. After I played the ignorant tourist bit for a while -- "Oh, I thought you meant we just had to pay for the tickets; we just thought you were being nice..." -- he agreed that he would give us a "discount" for $2. Tired of this bullshit, I handed him $2 and rode away.

Second, everything -- literally, everything -- takes longer in Cambodia. I mentioned the bus ride at the beginning of this post. The bus itself was surprising pleasant, but the roads are laughable. The main "interstate" -- National Road No. 6 -- is basically one lane in each direction (sometimes less than that), occasionally unpaved, going through small villages, with animals and people walking on it all the time. Since the road is about as flat and straight as you can possibly imagine (if you've ever driven across America and ventured on Interstate 40 near Texas, it's just like that), it should have been a quick ride. But the bus never went above 40 mph, so a trip of about 150 miles that should have taken two hours on a paved highway took us six hours because of the conditions. Not kidding: at times, farm animals being herded along the side of the road were passing us because traffic would come to a complete halt on the "interstate"... (And this is just one of many examples. Another is the speed, or lack therof, of food preparation. If you order a fruit shake, i.e., fruit and coconut water blended together, expect a ten minute wait. Exactly why it takes ten minutes is still a mystery.)

Third, my unscientific study (with a 50% margin of error) tells me that 50% of the people in Cambodia do nothing but sit on the sidewalk. That's all they do. All day long. That, and pester you for taxi rides. Cambodian taxi drivers, I have a message for you: For the nine millionth time, I don't want a fucking taxi ride!

That's it for Cambodia. I'm off to Vietnam, and Becky is heading home to her job. Until next time, adios.

PS: With Becky gone, I may be the only remaining white person in Southeast Asia who doesn't smoke. Weird.

Phnom Penh, Cambodia... Capital of the Third World?

I'd like to start this blog post about Phnom Penh (the capital of Cambodia) much the way I started my journey in this country: by forcing you to inhale an incredibly foul smell. Obviously I can't do that over the internet, but pause for a second to consider the worst stench to ever cross your nostrils, and the smell here is probably a bit worse. Coming out of the Phnom Penh airport, travellers are greeted with a combination of a) the most potent diesel exhaust fumes you'll ever inhale, b) raw sewage spilling onto the sidewalks, and c) trash, trash, and more trash. It was actually so oppressive that it was hard to breath during the 15 minute ride to the city center. In fact, the air is so bad that I estimate one fourth of the people outside wear surgical masks at all times. Hello, Phnom Penh!

On a more serious note, this is possibly one of the most depressing places I've ever visited, for two reasons: first, the history of the city/country (which I'll detail more below), and second, the gruesome poverty that is the city's reality. Nobody could ever think that this place is anything other than the Third World. You learn that as soon as you get off the plane, and it's obviously more than just the smell. But while my first reaction was to label it a shithole and dismiss it as such, there's more to it than that. The starkness of the poverty is both horrifying and immediate; it's real in a sickening way. There we were on our first night, having dinner at an outside cafe near the riverbank which is supposed to be the nicer area of the city, when we saw a mother and her three children appear on the sidewalk a mere 10 feet away. No child appeared to be over the age of five, and one was an infant. The mother then left the children while she begged for food. The infant -- naked, mind you -- was crawling on the sidewalk, and these sidewalks are jagged cement and dirt; filed with trash, debris, and broken glass; and traveled by pedestrians as well as bikes and motorcycles. The infant at one point was left unattended for several minutes and repeatedly was knocked over by other beggars. This was, quite sadly, the first of many horrifying scenes played out that night and, indeed, during the two days we were in this city. I didn't just witness the poverty; I felt it. I felt powerless to do anything since the problem is so widespread; since you're not supposed to give street kids money because they don't get to keep it; since I don't speak the language and don't truly grasp the culture and history; and since I'm "only" a tourist headed for yet another town, soon to leave this one behind. I felt eternally grateful to have been raised by caring parents (Dad, if you're reading this: thank you!!) in a country blessed with bountiful opportunity, and to have never -- not once - worried about whether I would be able to find food and shelter for the next day. I felt a sinking despair for humanity, both present and future. But most of all, I felt anger: anger at myself for doing nothing, anger at parents for having children they can't properly take care of due to chronic plague of poverty; and anger at a world where such things exist. That night I stayed up wondering what the solution is, or if there is, or could be, a solution. I don't know, but I hope so.

Anyway, after settling in to our "hotel" (think: Motel 6 but crappier, if such a thing is possible) on the first night, we decided to explore. The city is very oriented to Westerners: almost everything is in English, the US dollar is the preferred currency, and there's more "international" food -- pancakes, burgers, etc. -- than there is Cambodian food. Eventually, we took a stroll down the riverbank. This main strip is about as chaotic as any strip of city I've ever seen. Imagine Times Square in NYC for about 3 miles straight -- crazy traffic, stores and restaurants open late, etc. But it's so much more than that. You can't take more than two steps before you're hassled by someone trying to sell you something, or someone begging for food or money, or a taxi driver trying to take you somewhere, or a someone offering a massage or drugs or whatever other crap you don't want. I've never said "no thanks" so many times in my life. And it starts the second you walk out of the hotel. We never went more than three steps without having to turn someone down, and it's hard to get rid of some people because they'll frequently follow you hundreds of yards down the road. I actually had one guy -- after telling him several times I didn't want to buy from him -- start to unzip my backpack in search of money. And it doesn't end when you sit down to eat. People -- and by people I mean kids -- wander into the restaurants, even as late as midnight, and offer to sell (presumably stolen) DVDs, books, and clothes.

The main "attractions" on the beaten path of tourism in Phnom Penh include two of the most distressing places you can ever pay to visit. The first place is the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek, where Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge brought many of their victims to die between 1975 and 1979. (Brief history lesson: Khmer Rouge were led by Pol Pot who, in the mid 1970s, envisioned a radical Marxist restructuring of the country requiring a return to primitive agrarian society and the total elimination of "modern" infrastructure like hospitals, schools, etc., which led to the death of an estimated 3 million Cambodians including doctors, intellectuals, city dwellers.. you get the idea.) The Killing Fields are actually pretty small -- no more than a square mile or two -- which makes it even more gruesome that close to 10,000 people were tortured and killed there. And then there is this tree. It unwittingly (and probably unwillingly, if it could have had a say in the matter) took part in a grotesque manifestation of human evil. Rather than use bullets to kill babies and children (who the Khmer Rouge believed might avenge the deaths of their parents), the executioners would grab them by the legs and swing them headfirst into this tree until they died. After the Khmer Rouge lost power, the people who first found this place noted that the tree was soaked in blood, hair, and brains. They also have on display the bones of every victim they could find. It's about as chilling as you can imagine.

The other place we visited was the Khmer Rouge's main torture facility in Phnom Penh called Tuol Sleng. Anyone and everyone who was suspected of being a threat to the regime was brought here and ultimately tortured and killed. Some 20,000 people were killed at this one facility alone (which was previousy an elemetary school). It has the look and feel of Nazi concentration camps; it's a subtly chilling reminder that evil knows no boundaries, and that true evil didn't end in 1945. It also helps to put in perspective why this country is, to put it mildly, struggling. The conflict that began in the 1960s didn't end until 1993. There hasn't been a stable government for generations, and the governments that did exist were at best useless and at worst murderers. In this light, one can understand why people don't trust the government for any central or long-term planning. Moreover, the culture of corruption at the governmental levels affects (infects?) people's everyday relationships. (More on this in the next post, but with a slightly humorous twist.)

We saw a few other notable things in Phnom Penh (Royal Palace, some major temples), but compared to my overall experience, they're not worth mentioning. (For more pictures, I'll post on facebook shortly.) We got out of there as soon as we could; too noisy, too busy, too crazy, and too depressing. While it was worthwhile to get a sense of the country's history and struggles, it's not a tourist "destination." And, I have to be honest, I'm not here right now to solve a major world crisis. So it's off to (hopefully) greener pastures in other parts of the country...

Chiang Mai, Thailand

After a relaxing week on the beaches, we decided to head north to the city of Chiang Mai, in northwestern Thailand. It's close to the border with Burma (or Myanmar, or whatever it's called these days). It's a relatively small city (about 100,000 people) and an old city, but also the major city in northern Thailand, so it has a decent airport which we were eternally grateful for because otherwise it would take a full day to get there by bus. Although Chiang Mai is definitely on the beaten path for tourists, it has a much more relaxed feel than Bangkok and is not at all spring break-ish like the beaches. It has this strange but cool combination of bohemian and rastafarian and many of the white people who live/visit are very hippie. Coffee shops, clothing boutiques, and arts and crafts stores abound, and unlike the rest of Thailand, very few locals approached used to try and sell us on something we didn't want. (At times, there are so many white people sitting in coffee shops and art houses that it feels more like hip places in any major American city, and not a mid-sized town in northern Thailand).

Our first day was spent on a motorbike touring the surroundings and checking out the city. (Thankfully, the traffic is also more laid back in Chiang Mai and I didn't feel like I was about to commit suicide the moment I drove onto a main road). We spotted a sign for "Tiger Kingdom" about 15 miles out of town and we couldn't pass it up. It's a refuge for tigers and they do some breeding to try to increase the tiger population, which is an endangered species. We thought we'd just be looking at tigers, but we got much more. Since the tigers live in a fairly controlled environment, they let people walk into the cages and pet them and play with them. The lawyer in me was thinking, how in the world can they get away with this, but apparently liability laws in Thailand are basically non-existent, so that's how they can do it. It's an amazing experience to touch one of them (we actually got to handle three different tigers.) They're pretty docile overall but you have to remember that you're sitting next to (or on) a 400 pound killing machine, and the fangs are big enough to strike fear in your heart. After 15 minutes "playing" with them, it was time to leave...

Chang Mai is also wonderfully inexpensive. Six dollar massages are the norm, so we got several over the course of a few days. Fruit smoothies with absolutely fresh fruit will cost about 80 cents and a beer is about 50 cents, so the good times were rolling...

For our second day in Chiang Mai, Becky and I decided to do a little adventuring. We hired a tour company to take us about an hour north into the deep jungle to do a mix of eco-tourism activities. There were six other people in our group, and consistent with our prior experiences, it was a totally mix of Westerners: two Brits, two Italians, and two Russians. First, we went white water rafting for about an hour. It was two minutes of exciting class four rapids (pretty strong) followed by 20 minutes of rowing out boat gently down a stream. Next, we hit the real highlight of the journey: elephant rides. Needless to say, it's a pretty bizarre feeling to ride an elephant, but they are very graceful and walk very slowly, so it's more like an easy stroll through the jungle than anything else. We happened to be on the mama elephant, so the baby elephant followed us the entire time. After the elephant ride, we began a brisk (but thankfully short) trek through the jungle to the waterfall. Some people do 2 or 3 day treks, but given the heat and humidity (about 95 degrees and 95 percent humidity), we opted for the half-day trek. Just walking for a hour or so through the jungle was enough to make me sweat out every ounce of water in my body; at one point I think my sweat was actually sweating. Our efforts were not in vain, however, as we were rewarded with a nice waterfall to cool ourselves down and relax after a busy day.

Our third day in Chiang Mai was spent engaging in two "authentic" Thai activities: cooking, and watching muay thai (Thai boxing). We spent the afternoon learning how to cook classical Thai dishes like pad thai, stir fry, red and green curry, spring rolls, etc. (This was obviously Becky's idea, since the last time I cooked a real meal was ... never.) This was supposed to be a class of 6-8 people, but we were the only people that day, so we got a private course from a very nice woman who basically let us do everything. I don't mean to boast, but the food turned out pretty good.

To finish up my time in Chiang Mai (and Thailand), I needed to go to the local boxing stadium to watch some muay thai. It's like mixed marital arts in the U.S. in that: 1) you can strike with any part of the body but the head, 2) you can hit any part of the opponent's body, and 3) straight punches are considered the "weakest" strike. You know you have a bad-ass sport when the preferred knock-out method is to grab the opponent's head and pull it down while striking the face with a knee. The first few rounds were pretty dull, but then the had a "fun" round where they blindfolded four guys for 3 minutes. Pure comedy ensued. It was possibly one of the most entertaining things I've watched -- guys were swinging wildly in the air and even the got smacked several times. Finally, the real fights began, and in one match, these two tiny guys came out and beat the crap out of each other for 15 minutes. They were both about 5'3" and 110 pounds but they went at each other with a fury I've never seen, and the crowd of about 200 was incredibly pumped up. My seats were about 15 feet from the ring, so I saw everything... During one intermission, as I sat drinking whiskey and thai beer, I had this strange dual thought: first, how awesome is this fight, and second, what bizarre series of events in my life has led me to watch muay thai at midnight in northern Thailand in August 2010? Makes you think...

For now, my time in Thailand is over. I've left for Cambodia. Will I return? Perhaps some day. But for now, Thailand is just another memory...

Thailand beaches

After a few hectic days in Bangkok trying not to get run over by crazy drivers, we decided that it was time for some rest and relaxation. So Becky and I packed up our gear and headed to Southern Thailand in search of the ultimate dream: a tropical white-sand beach with no one around for miles...

Our first stop was a small town called Krabi. It's not really a "beach town" since it's missing the main element -- a beach -- but it's on the water and is one of the primary stopping points for people to travel by boat to the more remote islands where the top-tier beaches are located. It has a laid-back feel and, despite the noticeable presence of tourists, doesn't feel touristy.

Since there isn't a beach, we decided to do some adventuring, so we rented a motorbike and drove inland to explore a national park called Khao Phanom Bencha, where there are supposedly some incredible caves.
But we couldn't find the caves. We found some other cool stuff, like these rock formations, but no caves. You might be wondering, how is it possible to miss out on the caves that are part of the tourist scene? Well, that brings me to Random Fact No. 1 about Thailand. Nothing -- and I really mean nothing -- is ever "easy" to find (despite what locals or the guidebooks may say.) There we were, driving along the road, when a sign says "Cave 500 meters." Ok, we should be close, right? Then another sign a few hundred meters more down the road has an arrow and says "Cave 100 meters." Great, we're headed in the right direction and we figure, naturally, that the cave would be right in front of us. Nope. No cave. At all. And there are no more signs to guide us, and what's worse, there's about six different trails leading in random directions. So no caves for us. Undeterred, we then decide to go for a nice hike to a waterfall on this rock, which the lady at the ticket booth at the national park described as "an easy 1 hour hike along a trail." So there we are, wearing not shoes but sandals and carrying only a small bottle of water, eager to begin our easy walk through the forest. As we began our ascent, the trail is easy, but suddenly the trails turns from a beaten path to a combination of jagged rocks, bigger jagged rocks, tree roots, and slippery mud. And this ain't no easy hike; after 20 minutes we were cursing the lady at the ticket booth because this had to be the steepest, roughest hike of our lives. But we got to that point where you often think, "we've come this far, maybe a little further and we'll get to the waterfall," and we started justifying our efforts to go further by saying things like, "I think the jungle is getting less dense, so the waterfall should be close." I mean, seriously, what the fuck does that even mean. Eventually we turned back because a) we ran out of water, b) the jungle was NOT getting les dense, and c) fuck it, we were hungry. This brings me to Random Fact No. 2 about Thailand: Thai people have no sense of time. It's impossible to recount the number of times someone said that somethng was five minutes away but it took us 50 -- and it works in reverse, too. Once, a woman told us that the nearest ATM was a two minute walk, but when we left her shop, the ATM was about 20 feet down the street. It can't be that hard to accurately judge time.

After a day or so in Krabi, we left for what is considered by many to be one of the most beautiful islands in the world, Koh Phi Phi. It's a 90 minute boat ride from Krabi. It was hit hard in the tsunami a few years ago but has basicaly rebuilt itself. Sadly, Phi Phi's greatest asset -- its beauty -- is also its downfall, as it attracts way too many tourists. The main port town is populated with twenty-something backpackers who think it's spring break, spend most of their time getting drunk or high, and seem to try to be as loud and annoying as possible. The main town has that sad aura that so many other beach resorts have... the rape of natural beauty. So we decided to "splurge" with a 30 dollar room at beach resort that was much more secluded. (The resort -- Paradise Pearl -- is an excellent place to stay, should you ever find yourself in the area.) We literally had our meals on the beach. We also had the best pad thai ever at this little hole in the wall shop near the port. It was oh-so-delicious. And for some reason, decorated with messages people wrote about how good the food was, so we did the same.

(Side note: I don't want to sound like an old fart here. I understand the backpacker thing. They're young and want to party and get laid on a tropical beach. Can't really argue with that. But the "spring break" chapter of my life is done, and I'm ok with it. I want a quiet beach where I can rest, followed by a nice a dinner, a glass of wine, a good lay, and 10 hours of sleep.)

Away from the backpackers, we had a nice beach to share with only a handful of other people. But I wanted more. I wanted to find a beach that no one else could set foot on. Becky graciously allowed me to search for such a place, and we spent the better part of a day looking for my personal Eden. Bt it was not meant to be. Apparently, ever inch of beach had been discovered long before I got there. So I had to content myself with whatever sand I could find, and we spent several days just relaxing and enjoying the clear blue ocean.

We knew we were having a good time when, at one point during our stay, we had this conversation:

[long pause staring contemplatively at the ocean]
David: What day is today? Sunday?
Becky: I think it's Tuesday.
[paure for more staring at the ocean]
Becky: But it could be Monday.



Despite the fact that we're here in the wet season, meaning that it rains every day, the place is beautiful. Clear blue water, jungle coming right onto the water, and a sun so intense it feels like it's melting the skin of your bones. After a few days of just laying out in the sun, Becky and I decided to do a little sightseeing, so we took a tour of the island and went snorkeling. (Our tour group -- 14 people, of which I was probably the oldest -- was like a mini United Nations: besides us, there were people from France, U.K., Norway, Germany, Israel, and Canada.) Our first stop was Monkey Beach, where -- you may have guessed -- there are monkeys on the beach. And they're not afraid of people, so you just walk right up to them. I warned Becky not to get too close in case they tried to bite; she scoffed at me; and then the universe -- just to show her that sometimes I can be right -- set the wheels in motion for another guy not 10 feet from us to get bit by a monkey. I think he was French judging by his reaction: "I surrender.") We spent the rest of the day exploring more beaches and some snorkeling, including Ma Ya Bay, the setting for the 2001 movie "The Beach." It's beautiful and off limits to development but -- like the running theme of this post -- ruined by humans. Trash is everywhere, which is amazing since you can only access it by boat, and also since only so many boats can get to it since it's a protected wildlife area.


After a few days on Koh Phi Phi, we left for Phuket, which is probably the major beach town in Thailand. We shacked up in the city, then rented a motorbike to the beaches about 20 minites away. We landed in Kata beach, which is a really nice long sandy beach, but also very developed. The beach itself looks like what you'd find in Southern California (long and deep), and even had vendors walking along selling all sorts of crap you'd never want or need. After a few hours on the beach, we needed to jump in a pool. So, we crashed at a nearby beach resort, swam in their pool, and used their towels. I was about to order drinks and charge them to someone's room, but Becky's conscience got the better of her and I was left without my fruity tropical drink that I had longed for. Oh well. We also visited the "Big Buddha" on top of the tallest hill in Phuket. It's 45 meters high and the view fom it is awesome. We just had to snap a photo in front of the American flag. (We had no idea why it was there, nor was it there for any apparent reason.)

That's it for the beaches, for now. But I leave you with a few more random thoughts, just in case you ever find yourself here:

Random Thought No. 3: When you use the toilets here, if you use t.p. (I say "if" because it seems optional) then you can't flush it down the toilet. There's a separate trash can you put the discarded paper in. Now, I don't mean to be condesceding, but what kind of screwed up system is this? I mean, objectively speaking, how can this be a good idea. Maybe it's ok if you are the first person to use the bathroom after it's been cleaned, but if it's late in the night and the t.p. is pilling up and who knows how many people have gone before you, then you're sitting next to a pile of crap (literally) with the scent of many people before you. Really, is this the best system they came up with?

Random Thought No. 4: English is prevalent here (ie, the dominant non-Thai languauge), which is great for me. And they often use English on signs, which can also be great. (Even if the signs aren't helpful, they can be hilarious.) But here's my beef: if you run a business and have a sign outside with English on it like, "Batteries sold here," then someone -- anyone -- in the store should, at the very least, understand those English words. So if I walk into the store and say, "batteries," I think's it's reasonable to assume the people working there won't stare at me like I'm retarded or rude because I don't know the Thai word for batteries. Maybe it's just me, but I think I'm right....

Random Thought No. 5: I've done a fair amount of motorbike driving in Thailand in the last 10 days.
It's a dangerous proposition, and we've had a few close calls. Most of the time we're lost or confused since the streets make no sense. A street going north-south may suddenly go east-west, but it keeps the same name, which leads to utter chaos for us. There's no need to skydive or bungy jump or cliffdive in Thailand; stepping onto the streets is scary enough...

We're headed up north to do some adventure-type stuff. Stay tuned....

PS: The guy next to me in the internet cafe is looking at porn. You gotta love it.

Bangkok (or, how I learned to never complain about L.A. traffic)

Bangkok... where to begin? Becky and I arrived here at 2 a.m. after an 18 hour journey that took us through Taiwan, and in true backpacker style, we didn't even have a hotel reservation. Fortunately, the good people at Riverwalk Guest House (gratuitous shout-out) took us in at 3 a.m. without even asking us to pay. The world needs more people like that...

Anyway, like many giant cities in the world, when people refer to Bangkok as a "big, bustling city," they must really mean "overcrowded, noisy, and trash-filled city." Granted, I was only in Bangkok for 48 hours, which may not be a fair time to properly judge it, but when your overwhelming desire is to leave a city a mere 48 hours after spending 18 hours on a crammed 747 to get there, it's a sign...

But let's put aside the negative. Bangkok had some phenomenal things to see and experience. First and foremost, I was in the mood for some authentic Thai food. Sure, I wanted some pad thai and some curry, but after a late night of walking the streets and drinking, a feeling came over me that I couldn't sweep away -- I wanted to eat some bugs. And magically, as if some higher power (it must have been Buddha since I was in Thailand) had read my thoughts, there appeared seemingly out of nowhere a street vendor enticing me with fried grashopper and ... wait for it ... scorpion. I was sold the minute the cart lady said "rawhawbacafartrbahwa" (the Thai word for scorpion, or something like that)...

Having nurtured the stomach, it was time to nurture the soul. The Buddhist temples are simply amazing. We visited several in central Bangkok that are known for their architecture and Buddha sculptures. The reclning Buddha is apparently the largest in the world (about 150 feet long).



These buildings and sculptures are also part of the Grand Palace, the former residence of the King. The pictures don't even begin to do them justice.

There was much more to Bangkok -- a riverboat tour, a visit to a famous Buddhist shrine, almost becoming roadkill about 20 times -- but I'm keeping this post short. There'll be more to come in the future. Stay tuned...