Thursday, July 25, 2013

Boats, Tuk-Tuks, Buses and Planes: Bye-Bye, Bangkok!



Farewell, Thailand.  Sawadi-ka!


 The last sounds we heard in Rayong were the morning chirping of frogs in the pond outside our bungalow. Our arrival in Bangkok was a stark change. Every ten minutes, from our high rise hotel room, we endured the roar of the airport monorail passing meters away from the windows and rattling the fixtures.   At around two in the morning, a young woman in the hallway (or was it on the street) let out a shrill shriek of joy (or was it bloodcurdling, ear piercing terror…) and with that restful night (not), we headed into a busy day.




We jumped into one of the canal boats that speed through the hidden spider web of arteries that connect Bangkok.  The stench of raw sewage and the crush of more than 100 people per boat made the claustrophobic ride less than appealing.  The slick, black water splashed into the open sides of the crowded boat, as we traveled for more than an hour to get to the famous temple, Wat  Po. Still, the river boats were faster than a taxi, bus or tuk-tuk in the traffic clogged streets.

 Every tourist and local in Bangkok (who was not entangled in a traffic jam) was visiting Wat Po on this Buddhist holiday.  But it had taken us nearly an hour and a half to get to the temple, and we were not about to be elbowed out of the way by a bunch of devotees when it came to seeing the largest reclining Buddha in the world.  We shoved our way in, took some photos, felt overcome by the heat and crowds and decided to head back to the hotel. One bus, two boat rides, one very nice bathroom in an automobile showroom, and two hours later, we were back on our side of town.


The silver lining of our last day in Thailand was a delicious dinner with Tiger, who had been kind enough to drive us to our airport hotel.  We ate our Thai favorites, Tom Ka Gai soup, ground duck salad, seafood salad and greens in garlic sauce.  We topped off the meal with frosty lemonade slushies; the cool, sweet liquid a wonderful contrast to the sultry heat that slipped away with the evening darkness.  


By Ilana Long

The Fruit Fair in Rayong



Irony of Ironies! The day we plan to visit the All You Can Eat Fruit Fair in Rayong is the morning that Montezuma's legacy walloped me with a vengeance. 

Just the evening before, our family was showered with food, whiskey and attention.  (Well, the children had very little whiskey…)  We were visiting Steve’s Peace Corp friend, Adjan Sriprapa.   Adjan (Teacher) Sriprapa was Steve’s friend and mentor 22 years ago.  Now, she is a school vice principal.  Also, Michel and Tiger, Steve’s friends came up from Bangkok, with their much doted upon son (also known as their dog), Mackie.

We all converged on a busy seafood restaurant, where we were ushered into the air conditioned, private, V.I.P. room, crowded with carousing, karaoke singing, school teachers and administrators.  The superintendent of the area schools ate along with us.  The entire shellfish feast, was entirely sponsored by the school’s headmaster.  The headmaster also paid for us to stay that evening in a deluxe, two bedroom resort on the sea! All this from a stranger whom we’d only just met!

We ate and ate:  fried fish with mango salad, crab legs, squid, garlicky shrimp, fish balls (must have been a very big fish!) and seafood stew.  (This may have been my tummy’s downfall, or perhaps it was the third whiskey.)   Then we headed back to the resort with the headmaster and Adjan Sriprapa and devoured some gooey, coconut and rice flour, jellied treats.

 By morning, my insides were roiling, but I was embarrassed to appear to be a less than gung-ho guest.  So, I put on a brave face as we headed to the Fruit Fair. 

 Even in my pained haze, I could appreciate the beauty of the area.  Adjan Sriprapa lives just outside of Rayong, in Bahn Kai.  Near her home, signs for the Fruit Fair promised a carnival atmosphere.  The county fair mood was supported by the cute, painted tram that pulled up beside us in the parking lot.

We boarded the tram and toured the ample gardens, fecund with papayas, rambutin, mango, pineapple, bananas, mangostein and a host of fruits without English names.  Twenty minutes along a bumpy road, and the tram stopped at an open air patio.  There, pregnant tables spilled over with all manner of tropical fruits, tempting us with an endless buffet included in our tickets. 

 But my stomach was being such a spoilsport!  It was absolutely unwilling to cooperate.  While my family and friends attacked the fruitful banquet with gusto, I sat alone at a picnic table, nursing a Gatorade with an azithromycin chaser.   I felt like miserable Tantalus, shoulder deep in water, tortured by thirst, and unable to drink.

 After more bouncy touring on the tram, we stopped at another improvised restaurant, where plates overflowed with som-tom.   The chef had prepared a mild version of the green papaya salad for the twins, so I ate a bite or two of theirs.  Usually, this was one of my favorite Thai dishes, but today, I could barely pick at it.

As we left the Fruit Fair, the fog began to lift for me.  I wished we could have gone back and done it all again!

 Fortunately, by the next morning, I was mostly recovered, and a good thing, too.   Breakfast and lunch were once again feasts provided by out hosts, Adjan Sriprapa and her husband, Pi Biec.  And their generosity did not end there.   They showered us with gifts:  candy and clothes for the kids, a dressy pakama for Steve, and two lovely sarongs for me.  We hugged goodbye, hoping to return again, and caught a lift back to Bangkok with Tiger, Michel, and Mackie; their sweet, pampered poodle.



By Ilana Long


Koh Chang-Elephant Island




After the bustle and self imposed torrent of sightseeing at Angkor Wat, it was time for some serious relaxation.  We headed to Ko Chang for three days.  Our hotel, Penny's, has a nice pool, where we've played each day whenever it hasn't been raining or too blustery.  We are on the ocean here, but it's too rocky and rough for swimming.

The western part of this island, where most of the hotels sit, is situated perfectly for beautiful sunsets, but riptides make swimming dangerous.

Nevertheless, each day, we've hopped on an overpriced truck taxi and traveled five minutes down the road to White Sand Beach (well, greyish white!) for some beachy fun.

We wade in to our knees and body surf in the raucous waves.  The kids can't get enough and would stay in all day if we parents would allow it.  But,with the effects of body surfing on our middle aged muscles, and the vigilance of parenting in rough waters,we adults tire quickly.  So, we hop in and out every twenty minutes, pausing to take breaks in the shade.

Apparently, there is a calm swimming beach on the south side of the island, past Lonely Beach, but it's a pricey schlep on this big island.  So, we skip it.

Ultimately, I wish that we had had time in our itinerary to make the trip to a calm-watered beach in southern Thailand, like Ko Samui or Phuket, but this island is a good alternative, as it is on our way to Rayong and Bangkok.

This morning at Penny's, I sit and watch the waves, which are high and wild.  They pound and crash on the rocks, which are already wet from recent rains.  Benji doesn't think this weather will let up. He suggests that we move on to Rayong a day ahead of schedule.  Sounds like a plan. So, we're off!



-Ilana Long


Thursday, July 18, 2013

High Wattage-Angkor Wat





Angkor Wat's iconic shape is stamped grey against a white sky.  We strolled along the stone boulevard that traverses the ancient moat, while lillies, fish, and bugs skimmed the surface of the green water.  There were none of the morning crowds that we had expected.  Only a trickle of tourists made their way through the stone gate toward the famous temple spires with their beehive silhouette.


 The carvings were ancient and beautifully detailed. Angkor Wat is one of many thousands year old temples that are scattered around the huge city of Siem Reap.  They reflect the empires of numerous kings.  Most are built from gigantic, greying stones, tinged with faded reds. The temples and tombs are enormous and imposing.


Nonetheless, I couldn't help but compare these ancient ruins to the sites we had visited in Palenque, Mexico last summer.    The ruins of Siem Reap, Cambodia seemed commercialized, as does the city around it, while Palenque sprawls  peacefully in the heart of the jungle.

Some of my opinions of Cambodia may have been tainted by our initial greeting when we crossed the border at Poi Phet.  We were ushered into some scammer's tuk-tuk, and were told that there were no buses anymore going to Siem Reap, and we should take a $100 taxi there, instead.  Irritated, and wiser than most gullible, young tourists, we walked out of there, and trudged with our bags to the border, half a mile away.  There,we got on a  bus to $9.

Our hotel was not the paradise we had hoped for. Our fan was broken and when we changed room, this shower merely spitted a smattering of droplets.  The water pressure in the sink was great, however, due to a hole in the spigot, the water shot out directly sideways.

Beside the greeting and the accommodations,
Siem Reap improved as the day wore on. The temple Bayon is a jigsaw of huge stone faces, set atop grand faded spires.  Each tower is engraved with four faces, each pointed in a different direction.  The  South face expresses maternal compassion and respect for parents. North and east stand for  charity and grace, and the western face represents death.  As we wandered the top of the temple, the impassive faces loomed over us.  When we wandered inside, the interior was dark and labyrinthine.  Wouldn't want to be stuck there after dark!


Later that day we visited our collective favorite: Ta Prohm, the temple and crypts where the movie "Tomb Raider" was filmed.  Jungly Bayon trees entwined their roots into the ancient rocks.  The trees were almost human here, squeezing the doorways and strangling the stones that supported the mossy tombs.

The kids went off in different directions,  exploring secret passage ways, sneaking down dark corridors, hiding behind doorways embellished with engravings of beautiful goddesses or bold warriors.  With a loud couey, we'd call the kids back, and they'd come running to us.  What fun!

Later that afternoon, we climbed an enormous hillside to reach a temple that towered over the trees in order to see the sunset.  Unfortunately, kids under 12 aren't allowed to climb the precipitous steps, so we cut bait and headed home.

On or second day,   our tuk-tuk driver took us to explore a larger group of temples. Truthfully, these were considerably less memorable than our favorites from day one.

So, we spent only a few hours adventuring, and then headed back to our hot and miserable guest house, where the roosters outside our windows never slept and were apparently being routinely strangled.


On our third and final day in Siem Reap, we grabbed our watercolor paints and headed back to the north gate near Bayon, to sit in the shade and paint those stony, compassionate faces.  Then, we painted at Ta Prohm, hoping to capture the banyan tree taking hold of an ancient doorway in its tentacled grip.



In the afternoon, we played at the neighboring hotel's pool, drooling jealously at the shower pressure in the reception area bathroom.  We met a French family there.  The kids played ravenously together in the pool.  We have met very few families with kids in our travels so far.

Finally, we headed back to Angkor Wat for sunset.   As we left our hotel, our tuk-tuk driver pointed out the rain clouds rolling in.  But it was our last night in Cambodia and, as we're from Seattle, rain is little deterrent to us!

As we arrived at Angkor Wat, tourists streamed out , of the temple like leaf cutter ants, holding their backpacks over their heads and shielding their cameras from the giant drops of warm rain that had begun to fall.  By the time we reached the main temple grounds, the sky opened up with rain.  We rushed into the dim temple doorway-- entirely alone at Angkor Wat!
The rain pounded down as we waited and watched,eating the sticky coconut rice and beans from a bamboo stem that we had purchased on our way in.






Without warning, a short break in the rain timed itself perfectly with the spectacular and sudden sunset.  We ran from one opening in the walls to another, glimpsing the orange sun as it sank, and then racing to the other side to watch the brilliant, glowing reflection on the spires and courtyard' once again behind a veil of rain.

The guards would close the gates to Angkor Wat right after sunset.  So with the shadows of the spires behind us, we ran through the rain and disappearing glints of sunshine, down the long, empty boulevard.  There were no other human voices, and no sounds of traffic;  only the splash of our feet stomping in puddles on the ancient stones, while in the jungle the cicadas screeched a deafening farewell.  It was an awe inspiring feeling that I hope I will never forget.

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Crickets and Frogs and Rice-- Oh my!





We sat at the lunch table in our homestay in Bahn Pasat munching on deep fried crickets.  I preferred them to the steamed, salted beetles that the kids favored.  Both, frankly, were delicious and were cultivated right here in a hutch in Gayo's backyard. 

We planned to stay in this small village for three days, so the kids got started right away washing their laundry in tubs and hanging it on the line out back.  Finally, we all had successful, relatively tidy experiences on the squat toilet.  Yay!

I "helped"Gayo cook up some more lunch to add to our buggy feast.  Fried cucumbers, tomatoes and sausages were served over rice that Gayo and her husband had planted, nurtured and picked themselves.Steve translated into Thai when I asked if I could help pick some rice, too.  She said I could watch, because it is very hard work.

Everybody works very hard here in rural Thailand.  Gayo's husband, Pong, works as a school custodian and hour away.  He works 10 hours a day, six days a week.  The village host families also get some extra income from a trickle of adventurous tourist and Thai school groups who stay in the homes here.

After peeling some lychee and rambutin fruit for dessert,  we wandered toward the archeological site in the village center.  There, we saw the remains of bodies buried during the Bronze Age!  more than 60 skeletons have been excavated here, along with the jewelry and pottery that accompanied their ancient souls. 

Gayo had suggested that we try to find the frog man.  So, we asked around until we found him.  Jahrat was happy to see us and eager to show off his farm.

We meandered behind concrete hutches to find the tadpole pools, the juvenile frogs, and then the adult frogs in a netted pond.  He explained how he breeds and sells these frogs that were nearly as large as my head!

We strolled with our host around trees bearing papaya, bananas, mangoes until we came to a low, concrete building that was emitting a high pitched whirring sound.  As we pulled aside the netted door, we saw the room was filled with trenches of chirping, squirming beetles.

The beetles swarmed over cardboard egg containers, and when Jahrat banged the cartons together, the bugs poured out by the load into a bucket used for collecting.  Jaraht says he gets about a dollar a pound for them at market.  Te kids bravely put their hands in the buckets, giggling as the bugs crawled all over their hands.  As one began to march up Benji's shirt sleeve, he changed his tune and shouted, "Get it off!  Get it off!"

Aswe walked out, Jahrat pointed out his barber's chair.  he is truly a jack of all trades.  In his former profession, he gave a haircut to the king of Khatar!

We stopped by the school and chatted in English with some giggly and embarrassed school children.   Then Steve took off on the back of Pong's motorcycle to fetch some fresh fish from market for dinner. We enjoyed a bounteous feast of homegrown dishes.  near the end of the meal, Marina pulled the whole bowl of crickets in front of her and popped them in her mouth like peanuts.  ""These are yummy!" she declared.

To top off our evening, each of us bathed, pouring buckets of cool water over our bodies, scooped from a giant plastic barrel.  Refreshing!

Early our second morning in Bahn Prasat, we took a bus to the ancient ruins of Pi Mai, and archeological site which is said to have been the design inspiration for Angkor Wat.  We wandered along in the nearly deserted ruing\s until we were too hot and tired to continue.  as we left, student groups began to arrive, oohing and aahing over our cute kids and crowding around to take photos with them.

It was a few minutes after lunch when I realized my camera was missing and my bag unzipped!  Panicky, I raced back over the ground we had covered.  No one had seen my camera.  I felt dejected to have lost all of the photos I had taken, especially those of the elephant adventure.  Steve went to talk to a police officer, while I dug deep into the depths of my backpack one more time.  My hand graze a leather, rectangular case.  I pulled it out, disbelieving.  My camera!  It had been there all along!  I retraced my steps to tell all the helpful Thai people whom I had pestered that I had found it after all!

Then, we went back to our home stay to eat some more bugs.  As Gayo said, "You can't eat just one!"  The cricket appetizer was followed by yet another multi-course  feast which included specialties of the area such as Korat noodles (which Steve devoured) and green papaya salad.

In the morning, after Gayo took an abundance of photos on her phone of our children, we fondly hugged her goodbye, hoping to return one day!

Riding Elephants in Pai




BLATTS in THAILAND


The only notable moment of the morning was the appearance of an unidentifiable animal poop in the pool.  But let's not get into that.  Let's talk about ELEPHANTS!

Benji looked like an ant standing next to the towering elephant.  She snaked her trunk around him for a hug, startling the redness into his cheeks.

Riding elephants in Thailand with our ten year old twins is one of those unique opportunities that we just couldn't pass up.    So, for 700 baht per person (about $25) we signed up with Thom's Elephant Camp for a two hour ride.  Looking at those behemoth creatures from below, the theme from Gilligan's island began to play ominously in my head.  "A three hour tour...."     okay, it's one hour less, but two hours on that giant?  What were we thinking?!

Well, we had little time to be apprehensive.  Within moments, Steve had climbed onto the back of the tallest elephant I'd ever seen.  Benji grabbed the harness rope and pulled himself up onto the blanket on the elephant's back, scooting to sit between Steve's straddled legs.  

The elephant guide sat on her (the elephant's) head, telling Steve the elephant's name is Movie Star.  Off they walked without ceremony.  What?!  That's it?!  No preparation?  No elephant riding lesson?  A guide gestured impatiently to Marina and me, as we stood open-mouthed with anxiety.  Okay, only one of us was freaking out.  Okay, it was me.  "Come on Mom, " Marina prodded.  "Let's get on our elephant."

I grappled my way up the elephant's back.  Her name was Pompem ---  Thai for Problem.  Not a good sign!~ Marina scrabble up in front of me in a second.  Äwesome!" she assessed.

Alright.  I'll admit it.  I was terrified.  We were perched on top of an elephant, twenty feet in the air.  I gripped the harness rope with white knuckles as we lumbered off, loping into the jungle.  My hands were sweating and my legs were shaking.  Ï''m scared," I whispered to Marina.  ""Äre you?""

"You're gonna be okay, Mom.  Just relax and enjoy it.  It's fun!"  She patted me on the leg with her free hand.  With her other hand, she casually petted the elephant's rough back and wiry hairs. 

Ahead of us, Movie Star had a plan of her own.  She walked off the track, munching leaves here and there.  Her Mahut- her trainer- whacked her hard on the forehead with the blunt end of an elephant hook.  We gasped, mortified.  The Mahut told Steve in Thai that it feels only like a toothpick to her heavy skull.  We pretended to believe it, but all of us were somewhat sickened by the brutality. 

We left Movie Star and her wayward antics behind. Marina and I gained a considerable lead, and with time, I relaxed on Pompem's back.  The landscape was gorgeous -- verdant hillsides and tall grasses planted everywhere for the elephants to eat.  In front of me, Marina pointed out the textures of the elephant's skin, her rubbery ears, her balanced gait.  We rode up the mountain in silence, gently rocking with the rhythm of Pompem's swaying steps.

Downhill was more of a challenge.  I slid forward, squishing Marina with my weight, trying to clutch my harness rope to keep my balance without crushing Marina. 

Our Mahut patted the elephant's neck, and without a word, Marina slid forward to Pompem's broad neck, gently holding the top of her head.  "Äh, much better," my little jungle girl said. Benji and Steve had caught up a bit.  I noticed Benji also clinging to his elephant's broad head, her enormous ears flapping against his skinny legs. 

Marina looked like an Egyptian queen at the helm of her elephant as we lumbered toward the brown river.  Then, Pompem expertly and gracefully lowered herself into the river until she was belly deep.  Then lifting her trunk unexpectedly, she showered us with a sudden spray from the river.  Marina and I giggled and I slid off the elephant's back to play in the warm river.  Marina's paddle board experience payed off, as she balanced and stood on the elephant's back,and then climed up to pose on the tip of her forehead!

Meanwhile, the boys had stripped off their shirts and tossed the elephant blanket on the shoreline.  Movie Star trudged happily into the water, and , without warning, shook her surprised cargo into the water.  The elephants seemed content resting in the water, as were we, playing and cooling off with these amazing, huge, intelligent creatures.

Finally, as we trotted back to camp bareback on the elephants, I looked at Marina perched comfortably on Pompem's neck.  "Well, riding an elephant sure is a once in a lifetime adventure!" I said.

"Oh, no, Mom.  I'm definitely doing this again.  Maybe a couple more times....when I'm older, of course!"

-Ilana Long

Monday, July 8, 2013

Pai..A Slice of Heaven




As our ride pulled into the countryside resort, Marina exclaimed, its the real Thailand. It looks just like the pictures in my passport stamp. And truly, it did. After the bustle of the big city of Chiang Mai and finally recovering from our travel sickness is, Phai pronounced pie, seemed a slice of heaven.

The pastoral landscape is bright green with newly planted rice fields, and the bucolic Hills rise up around them as gentle protectors. Our little bungalow is nestled among this idyllic scenery, and the only noise is the sounds of the crickets and frogs in the evenings. The air is cooler here, and a brief pocket of rain in the afternoon further refreshes us.

Today, we rented bikes, as Benji said, the civilized way. Essentially, we asked the hotel to shuttle us with our rented bikes to our destination in the hills, and we planned to coast down the 10 miles back into town!

The friendly driver dropped us off at a waterfall, overrun with motorcycle riding, batik wearing, pubic hairs displaying, unshaven hippies. We swam in the cool waters and watched as travelers, don't you dare call them tourists, young enough to be our kids risked necks and limbs sliding down the bumpy rock into the waterfall. It's exactly what Steve and I might have done 20 years earlier. We felt so old!

The only bikes available to rent were built for adults. Even with our adjustments, the kids had a tough time gripping the hand brakes. So our descent down the hills was a fun yet treacherously wild ride.

We paused to check out a Chinese temple and had coasted a couple of miles down hills when we suddenly realized that the temples marked our turn toward town! It was 2 in the afternoon and the heat with bearing down on us like a heavy blanket. We would have to ride back up that hill!

It was slow going on the old bikes. We had run out of water, and had plans to get lunch right after the temple, so add to the mix, four irritated hungry souls. We rode back past the vicious dog that I had been relieved to pass the first time. When the temple finally came back in to view, I could have thanked that Chinese Buddha with blood and tears, but he probably would have preferred if I just meditated. At the small stand next to the temple we bought a liter of water and drink it down in a minute or two.

Mildly dehydrated, but still hot and hungry, we rode around to the proper turn and found ourselves in a small Chinese village. Plenty of outdoor eateries lying to the road and we settled in for some delicious chicken fried rice. The sky overhead turned gray and then slack. Finally the rain pour down on the 10 overhang and we played charades as we watched as we waited out the storm.

Impatient after an hour we hopped on in the drizzle and coasted the last few miles into town. We picked up a curry and steamed fish in the market, along with Steve's favorite dessert --mango with sweet coconut milk and sticky rice!

The kids fell in love with the owners adorable toy chow puppy they played for nearly an hour with the black, fluffy, ball of joy and went to bed dreaming of playing with him tomorrow. And of riding elephants, of course. More on that later in about 4 days when we get internet connection again.