Friday, November 14, 2008
Bangkok: Second Impressions
Rich, Zach and I headed back down to Bangkok to extend our visas, but Rich and I took a few extra days there for some more sightseeing. My initial plans to do some more tourist-style sightseeing were partially thwarted by the rains- I wanted to go see an island north of the city on the Chao Praya River, but it was under water! So my journey to Ko Kred has been postponed indefinitely (for now). I also didn’t do too much traditional sightseeing because having received my family’s itinerary for December when they visit (yes! So exciting! Mom, Dad, Al and Gram will come!!!), there wasn’t too much for me to do that I hadn’t already done in September or would do with them.
These realities left me with a good deal of time to kill and so I decided that I would become more acquainted with the lesser-appreciate aspects of the city. Step one was to start walking- Bangkok is notoriously unwalkable and pedestrian unfriendly so I decided to test this reputation and take in more of the city on foot. Yes, the heat, bad sidewalks, crazy traffic and air pollution tried to get me down, but I persevered.
One of my great finds was the Suan Pakkad or “Lettuce Farm” Palace, aptly described in guidebooks as, “a forgotten gem.” The palace used to be a royal residence, and sprung out of the royalty’s desire to allow the public to view a private collection of Thai artifacts. Situated in the northeast of Bangkok, the palace is a green haven of art and architecture. There is a modern building housing Bronze Age pottery and tools from a site in northeast Thailand called Banchaing. Some of the pieces are absolutely beautiful (sorry, no photography was allowed inside the buildings), but the craziest part is how they were discovered: a Harvard anthropology student literally tripped over a log and landed face-first into shards of painted pottery he recognized as being very old. This led to multiple excavations uncovering glass and bronze jewelry, broken and intact painted pottery, and bronze tools; plus over ninety skeletons. My favorite was the diorama depicting the initial “discovery.”
The other artifacts are housed in eight wooden houses that provide examples of traditional Thai architecture. The finds include everything from rocks and semi-precious gemstones, to Thai instruments, to masks used in a Thai dance called “Khon,” which depicts episodes of the Indian epic Ramayana. One building is known as “the lacquer pavilion” and has exquisite examples of gold-on-black laquerware. The scenes are both from the Ramayana and from the life of Buddha, and the technique allows the same accuracy as pen and line drawings. There weren’t too many other tourists around when I visited and I had the opportunity to peruse the collection at my leisure and up close. The site is landscaped around a pond, and there were even some resident turtles by one fountain. Also, there was one relatively small royal barge on the property (the rest of them are housed in the Royal Barges Museum on the river).
I spent the majority of Sunday wandering around the center of town visiting parks and shrines. The Erawan shrine earned a reputation of granting wishes, and is adorned with so many offerings each day that waste management crews remove the flowers by the garbage can-full. There is a constant onslaught of incense and dancing by women in Thai dress and acrobats. It was a noisy place for an afternoon snack, but Sunday was pretty much devoted to people-watching. I also had the opportunity to find a fertility shrine (let’s just say I won’t post pictures) and one outside a huge shopping mall that seemed to be devoted to elephants (though as all of the signage was in Thai, I can’t be sure). Sunset found me in Lumphini park watching “dta krow,” a game that is much like 3-3 volleyball over a badminton net, except you are only allowed to use your feet and your head. (I can hear my sister saying, “so not really like 3-on-3 volleyball at all,” but if you see it, the comparison works.) “Dta krow” is pretty big in PKWS, so I’ll try to get some photos and a better explanation up soon. Lumphini Park is one of Bangkok’s largest greenspaces, and is the site of mass tai chi exercises in the early morning hours, and mass step aerobics in the afternoons. And by mass, I mean I watched at least 150 people dancing together to American remixes. I witnessed something similar in Chum Phae one evening on a smaller scale- this seems to be something quintessential Thai. The other event I was around for was story time. I sat on reed mats surrounded by Thai families and the under 5 crowd to dramatic tellings of such classics as Little Red Riding Hood and The Very Hungary Caterpillar- they mean it when they say these are translated into so many other languages! Unfortunately, the canal taxi stopped its service west an hour earlier than I had anticipated and I was left to adventure in the public bus system . . . but transportation in Bangkok deserves its own entry so I’ll leave that story untold for now.
I also did some “trashy tourist” things in Bangkok. I saw Tropic Thunder and Quantum of Solace. I was a mallrat for several hours. I ate Western food. You have to understand I live in rural Thailand for most of the month every month and when I get out of the sanctuary garlic bread and pancakes with fruit and ice cream really do look like the best things on the menu . . . One pleasant consequence of this trashy tourism was that Rich and I discovered a rooftop bar on top of one of the high-class megamalls. Known as the “Heineken Greenspace,” there are only three drinks on the menu: coke, water, and Heineken. The views were fabulous though and since we were dressed to visit the NRCT (National Research Council of Thailand), Rich and I actually looked like we belonged! (Photos coming soon.)
Soon enough it was time to come back up to Phu Khieo for our next big push with work- we won’t have more than 2 days off in a row between now and Christmas but I’m sure we’ll entertain ourselves somehow. Tomorrow I’m off to Khun Kitti’s rice paddy again- this time for the harvest!
These realities left me with a good deal of time to kill and so I decided that I would become more acquainted with the lesser-appreciate aspects of the city. Step one was to start walking- Bangkok is notoriously unwalkable and pedestrian unfriendly so I decided to test this reputation and take in more of the city on foot. Yes, the heat, bad sidewalks, crazy traffic and air pollution tried to get me down, but I persevered.
One of my great finds was the Suan Pakkad or “Lettuce Farm” Palace, aptly described in guidebooks as, “a forgotten gem.” The palace used to be a royal residence, and sprung out of the royalty’s desire to allow the public to view a private collection of Thai artifacts. Situated in the northeast of Bangkok, the palace is a green haven of art and architecture. There is a modern building housing Bronze Age pottery and tools from a site in northeast Thailand called Banchaing. Some of the pieces are absolutely beautiful (sorry, no photography was allowed inside the buildings), but the craziest part is how they were discovered: a Harvard anthropology student literally tripped over a log and landed face-first into shards of painted pottery he recognized as being very old. This led to multiple excavations uncovering glass and bronze jewelry, broken and intact painted pottery, and bronze tools; plus over ninety skeletons. My favorite was the diorama depicting the initial “discovery.”
The other artifacts are housed in eight wooden houses that provide examples of traditional Thai architecture. The finds include everything from rocks and semi-precious gemstones, to Thai instruments, to masks used in a Thai dance called “Khon,” which depicts episodes of the Indian epic Ramayana. One building is known as “the lacquer pavilion” and has exquisite examples of gold-on-black laquerware. The scenes are both from the Ramayana and from the life of Buddha, and the technique allows the same accuracy as pen and line drawings. There weren’t too many other tourists around when I visited and I had the opportunity to peruse the collection at my leisure and up close. The site is landscaped around a pond, and there were even some resident turtles by one fountain. Also, there was one relatively small royal barge on the property (the rest of them are housed in the Royal Barges Museum on the river).
I spent the majority of Sunday wandering around the center of town visiting parks and shrines. The Erawan shrine earned a reputation of granting wishes, and is adorned with so many offerings each day that waste management crews remove the flowers by the garbage can-full. There is a constant onslaught of incense and dancing by women in Thai dress and acrobats. It was a noisy place for an afternoon snack, but Sunday was pretty much devoted to people-watching. I also had the opportunity to find a fertility shrine (let’s just say I won’t post pictures) and one outside a huge shopping mall that seemed to be devoted to elephants (though as all of the signage was in Thai, I can’t be sure). Sunset found me in Lumphini park watching “dta krow,” a game that is much like 3-3 volleyball over a badminton net, except you are only allowed to use your feet and your head. (I can hear my sister saying, “so not really like 3-on-3 volleyball at all,” but if you see it, the comparison works.) “Dta krow” is pretty big in PKWS, so I’ll try to get some photos and a better explanation up soon. Lumphini Park is one of Bangkok’s largest greenspaces, and is the site of mass tai chi exercises in the early morning hours, and mass step aerobics in the afternoons. And by mass, I mean I watched at least 150 people dancing together to American remixes. I witnessed something similar in Chum Phae one evening on a smaller scale- this seems to be something quintessential Thai. The other event I was around for was story time. I sat on reed mats surrounded by Thai families and the under 5 crowd to dramatic tellings of such classics as Little Red Riding Hood and The Very Hungary Caterpillar- they mean it when they say these are translated into so many other languages! Unfortunately, the canal taxi stopped its service west an hour earlier than I had anticipated and I was left to adventure in the public bus system . . . but transportation in Bangkok deserves its own entry so I’ll leave that story untold for now.
I also did some “trashy tourist” things in Bangkok. I saw Tropic Thunder and Quantum of Solace. I was a mallrat for several hours. I ate Western food. You have to understand I live in rural Thailand for most of the month every month and when I get out of the sanctuary garlic bread and pancakes with fruit and ice cream really do look like the best things on the menu . . . One pleasant consequence of this trashy tourism was that Rich and I discovered a rooftop bar on top of one of the high-class megamalls. Known as the “Heineken Greenspace,” there are only three drinks on the menu: coke, water, and Heineken. The views were fabulous though and since we were dressed to visit the NRCT (National Research Council of Thailand), Rich and I actually looked like we belonged! (Photos coming soon.)
Soon enough it was time to come back up to Phu Khieo for our next big push with work- we won’t have more than 2 days off in a row between now and Christmas but I’m sure we’ll entertain ourselves somehow. Tomorrow I’m off to Khun Kitti’s rice paddy again- this time for the harvest!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
"All I want for Christmas is . . .
You" by Maria Carey is currently the only Christmas song in my possession. If any of you readers are musically motivated (Dori and Sammy, this is you!), I would love a Christmas mix CD to get in the mood. Seeing as Thailand is 95% Buddhist, there's not a lot of Christmas music to be had- though I saw decorations up in one of the malls in Bangkok already! I suppose without celebrating Thanksgiving either, there is no good date to start these festivities (i.e. Black Friday). My mailing address is on the righthand side of this page . . . and I promise a snail mail thank you note in return!
On the note of the photo to ID, you really need to get more creative. A bio major that I know out there may post before you . . . so look hard if you want the prize!
Also, I don't know who "CDW" is who posted- if you care to identify yourself that would be great!
More pics and photos from the latest BKK trip and culture festivities for the full moon of November to come!
On the note of the photo to ID, you really need to get more creative. A bio major that I know out there may post before you . . . so look hard if you want the prize!
Also, I don't know who "CDW" is who posted- if you care to identify yourself that would be great!
More pics and photos from the latest BKK trip and culture festivities for the full moon of November to come!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Reader Participation: Who am I?
Omnoi spotted one of these high in a tree yesterday when we were out following PO. First reader to comment with the correct answer receives a special prize!
If the boot doesn’t fit . . .
There’s probably a toad in it! Monsoon season = toad in boot season. I’ve had three instances of toads in boots so far, luckily they were all in my short boots. Zach had one in a Wellington boot, which takes a little more effort and force to put your foot into . . . I was worried for the toad’s health after this but when he turned his boot over and shook it out he described it as “very alive!”
Fon tok! (Rain falling!)
Thailand’s weather is characterized by three seasons: monsoon/rainy (cool and wet), winter (cool and dry) and hot (hot and dry). Right now there is a debate of whether or not we are still in the rainy season. In theory, the monsoons last from April/May to mid-October. There are peaks in the rain in May/June and September/October. And yet, despite the fact that it is November, it has still been raining in Tung Ka Mang. Some of the rangers try to say that the rainy season is over, and these are “just storms,” but I can’t say I understand this logic . . . Sometimes it rains all night. Sometimes it rains in the morning. Sometimes it rains in the afternoon. Sometimes it rains on and off all day. Sometimes it rains in the forest but not in the camp, or vice versa.
A lot about the rainy season sucks. It’s hard to see when you are driving. Binoculars fog up to uselessness. It is way easier to lose the monkeys in the rain because they become harder to see and, more importantly, hear. The river crossings become more treacherous, and getting water in your Wellies on the walk in means wet feet for at least the next 6 hours. It gets really muddy on some of the big trails that are shared by Team Langur and Team Macaque, and slipping and falling down hills into creeks is about as much fun as it sounds.
Mold is definitely the worst part of the rainy season. All sorts of things that you wouldn’t consider molding in the States mold in Thailand. I mean, it is obvious that bread molds if you don’t eat it soon enough and it is being stored in a hot, humid environment. But would you think that emery boards would mold? Or wooden buttons? Or anything leather (wallets, gloves, etc.)? Shoes and clothes also mold . . . just by sitting out or hanging on hangers. Everything gets damp (like sheets!), and doesn’t get dry. Field clothes take ages to dry and I have had to wear damp field clothes to the forest and “sweat them dry.” (Yep, eww.) For those of you wondering, this is especially gross under your poncho.
There aren’t many pluses about the rainy season, except that I will appreciate all of this rain come March. All of our water- for drinking, cooking, washing- comes from a reservoir (the drinking water is purified twice, but yes, I drink rainwater). Once the rains end, they END. Until April. Which means if we don’t get enough rain now, we’ll have water shortages at the end of the hot/dry season, so the rain is pretty important if you think about it like that.
I’m also learning how to better stay dry. When it is really pouring, I wear rain pants and a rain jacket in addition to my poncho and Wellies. If I push up my sleeves under my rain jacket, and Velcro the arm openings against my wrists, water doesn’t run down my arms when I pick up my binoculars. I also have a whole system (you know me) of how to layer the rain jacket and poncho hoods so I don’t get wet if it is raining when I am driving in on the bike and am wearing my helmet. I also use an umbrella in the field, which looks ridiculous but is surprisingly effective. When we take multiple days off, I take all the linens off of my bed and spread out the mattress and comforters so they air out. It is all a learning process . . .
I’m off to BKK for the next few days to renew my visa, but maybe by the time I get back, the rains will have stopped!
A lot about the rainy season sucks. It’s hard to see when you are driving. Binoculars fog up to uselessness. It is way easier to lose the monkeys in the rain because they become harder to see and, more importantly, hear. The river crossings become more treacherous, and getting water in your Wellies on the walk in means wet feet for at least the next 6 hours. It gets really muddy on some of the big trails that are shared by Team Langur and Team Macaque, and slipping and falling down hills into creeks is about as much fun as it sounds.
Mold is definitely the worst part of the rainy season. All sorts of things that you wouldn’t consider molding in the States mold in Thailand. I mean, it is obvious that bread molds if you don’t eat it soon enough and it is being stored in a hot, humid environment. But would you think that emery boards would mold? Or wooden buttons? Or anything leather (wallets, gloves, etc.)? Shoes and clothes also mold . . . just by sitting out or hanging on hangers. Everything gets damp (like sheets!), and doesn’t get dry. Field clothes take ages to dry and I have had to wear damp field clothes to the forest and “sweat them dry.” (Yep, eww.) For those of you wondering, this is especially gross under your poncho.
There aren’t many pluses about the rainy season, except that I will appreciate all of this rain come March. All of our water- for drinking, cooking, washing- comes from a reservoir (the drinking water is purified twice, but yes, I drink rainwater). Once the rains end, they END. Until April. Which means if we don’t get enough rain now, we’ll have water shortages at the end of the hot/dry season, so the rain is pretty important if you think about it like that.
I’m also learning how to better stay dry. When it is really pouring, I wear rain pants and a rain jacket in addition to my poncho and Wellies. If I push up my sleeves under my rain jacket, and Velcro the arm openings against my wrists, water doesn’t run down my arms when I pick up my binoculars. I also have a whole system (you know me) of how to layer the rain jacket and poncho hoods so I don’t get wet if it is raining when I am driving in on the bike and am wearing my helmet. I also use an umbrella in the field, which looks ridiculous but is surprisingly effective. When we take multiple days off, I take all the linens off of my bed and spread out the mattress and comforters so they air out. It is all a learning process . . .
I’m off to BKK for the next few days to renew my visa, but maybe by the time I get back, the rains will have stopped!
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Close encounters of the elephant kind . . .
Halloween isn’t really a big deal in Thailand (or with the farang at Baan Ling) but I had a little fright this morning . . . I was bummed to have early shift this morning because I was due to have the day off, but Rich is out with the flu (we hope) so I covered for him. Morning shift is generally preferred to afternoon shift, even though you work longer and have to get up really early, because you still have most of the day at Baan Ling after you work to get things done (like data entry, napping, reading your book, etc.). When morning shift is really not fun is when it rains. Despite rumors of “winter in Tung Ka Mang,” it still is monsoon season. Sometimes it rains at night, sometimes it rains during the day, and sometimes it rains all the time off and on. One of my least favorite things about my job is hearing it rain and knowing it will be raining when I drive and walk in for morning shift. So this morning found me fitfully sleeping, hearing the rain, and dreading getting up.
At promptly 5:15 I left the house, in the rain, decked out in all of my monsoon wear: rain pants, Wellington boots, gortex jacket, and poncho. I am sure I was quite the sight at that point. I drove to Baan Log where the rangers live to pick up Chet. Chet is a great teacher and I appreciate his patience but his choice of “teachable moments” is less than ideal sometimes. I drove him to Mai Sot Yai (the study site) for the first time two days ago, so when I asked him who should drive he of course wanted to give me the practice. In the dark. In the rain.
Going slowly and squinting through the rain we made our way to TR, a trail in PS country where PS was sleeping. I’m not amazing on the bike with a second person yet, but to his credit Chet is the easiest and best passenger because he is light (so the weight of the bike doesn’t seem off) and he sits like a rock (ditto). Needless to say I drove pretty slowly the whole way because of the dark and the rain. Another thing about the rainy season is tree falls. All of this dead wood gets soaked and falls down, sometimes across the road. These driving hazards are more easily avoided if you drive slowly and only within the range of the headlights, which I am proud to say I do. It is really nice being the second bike driving in the dark because you see so much more and the first bike provides an early warning for sticks on the road. Or animals on the road.
In theory.
I had run into Team Macaque going out about the same time this morning so I figured they would “clear the road,” but they weren’t close enough when I was driving in for me to make use of their headlights or avoidance of treefalls. There was a bit of bamboo across the road and some smaller trees. Bamboo across the road is usually a good indicator of elephant presence, but the rain can also knock it down.
We had just passed the monument, about 200 meters from TR when I saw some really fresh ele poop that hadn’t been there yesterday. So I kicked down into 2nd gear and figured I would just ease myself to TR (it is at the bottom of a big hill anyway).
And then I saw the elephant.
Let’s establish a few things.
First, I’ve wanted to see a wild elephant since I have been here. My ideal viewing would be me watching the monkeys from up on a hill and ele down in a riverbed, all blissfully unaware of my presence. I have repeatedly said I don’t want to see ele on a bike in the dark.
Second, the first thing Chet said to me when we were in the forest for the first time together back in August was, “If you see an elephant, don’t run. Hide or walk away.” Carola’s ele advice was, similarly, to find the largest tree and hide behind it. She warned us of the boldness of ele in the dark, that they hate lights and will attack them; in contrast during the day they are pretty frightened of people and will usually leave if you make noise.
Third, I cannot, when calmed, composed, and during daylight hours, turn a bike around on the road in any sort of speedy or graceful fashion, even if I am the only one on the bike.
So here’s what happened: I see the elephant and don’t panic (Jenn 1, elephant 0). I manage to stop the bike gently (Jenn 1, bike 0). At this point Chet has tapped me and informed me that there is an elephant 10 meters ahead of us, walking toward us, and has slid off the back of the bike. I even turn the bike off before going for the kickstand (Jenn 2, bike 0). At this point the ele is still walking toward us.
Yes, it was dark. But an elephant silhouette is pretty distinctive, no matter what the light level.
In my wet Wellies, I can’t get the bike stand down (Jenn 2, bike 1), and Chet, looking at me like I am crazy, helps me lay the bike down on its side. Then he grabs me and we start running (Jenn 1, ele 1). The elephant is still pursuing. You may think I am an Amazon woman with ridiculously long legs, but I’ve got nothing on this ele. And Chet is about 5’4.”
So we run. And the ele keeps walking. At some point I shout to Chet that we need to get into the forest, thinking it will be better because we will be harder to see and the ele can’t follow us as fast. I’m too scared to look back and see how close the elephant is; navigating running in my raingear with my backpack on my belly (I was the one driving, remember) was challenge enough. Chet tells me though that the ele stopped to sniff the bike.
Then salvation in the form of Hilux headlights came down the road. Chet and I were able to signal Khun Sitat to slow down and I “hid” behind the car to allow my pulse to slow. Come to save the day were Khun Sitat and his wife on their way out of the sanctuary. We followed the car to the bike and the elephant was gone.
So then I turn to Chet and say, “Do you want to drive now?”
And he says, “No, you drive.”
At promptly 5:15 I left the house, in the rain, decked out in all of my monsoon wear: rain pants, Wellington boots, gortex jacket, and poncho. I am sure I was quite the sight at that point. I drove to Baan Log where the rangers live to pick up Chet. Chet is a great teacher and I appreciate his patience but his choice of “teachable moments” is less than ideal sometimes. I drove him to Mai Sot Yai (the study site) for the first time two days ago, so when I asked him who should drive he of course wanted to give me the practice. In the dark. In the rain.
Going slowly and squinting through the rain we made our way to TR, a trail in PS country where PS was sleeping. I’m not amazing on the bike with a second person yet, but to his credit Chet is the easiest and best passenger because he is light (so the weight of the bike doesn’t seem off) and he sits like a rock (ditto). Needless to say I drove pretty slowly the whole way because of the dark and the rain. Another thing about the rainy season is tree falls. All of this dead wood gets soaked and falls down, sometimes across the road. These driving hazards are more easily avoided if you drive slowly and only within the range of the headlights, which I am proud to say I do. It is really nice being the second bike driving in the dark because you see so much more and the first bike provides an early warning for sticks on the road. Or animals on the road.
In theory.
I had run into Team Macaque going out about the same time this morning so I figured they would “clear the road,” but they weren’t close enough when I was driving in for me to make use of their headlights or avoidance of treefalls. There was a bit of bamboo across the road and some smaller trees. Bamboo across the road is usually a good indicator of elephant presence, but the rain can also knock it down.
We had just passed the monument, about 200 meters from TR when I saw some really fresh ele poop that hadn’t been there yesterday. So I kicked down into 2nd gear and figured I would just ease myself to TR (it is at the bottom of a big hill anyway).
And then I saw the elephant.
Let’s establish a few things.
First, I’ve wanted to see a wild elephant since I have been here. My ideal viewing would be me watching the monkeys from up on a hill and ele down in a riverbed, all blissfully unaware of my presence. I have repeatedly said I don’t want to see ele on a bike in the dark.
Second, the first thing Chet said to me when we were in the forest for the first time together back in August was, “If you see an elephant, don’t run. Hide or walk away.” Carola’s ele advice was, similarly, to find the largest tree and hide behind it. She warned us of the boldness of ele in the dark, that they hate lights and will attack them; in contrast during the day they are pretty frightened of people and will usually leave if you make noise.
Third, I cannot, when calmed, composed, and during daylight hours, turn a bike around on the road in any sort of speedy or graceful fashion, even if I am the only one on the bike.
So here’s what happened: I see the elephant and don’t panic (Jenn 1, elephant 0). I manage to stop the bike gently (Jenn 1, bike 0). At this point Chet has tapped me and informed me that there is an elephant 10 meters ahead of us, walking toward us, and has slid off the back of the bike. I even turn the bike off before going for the kickstand (Jenn 2, bike 0). At this point the ele is still walking toward us.
Yes, it was dark. But an elephant silhouette is pretty distinctive, no matter what the light level.
In my wet Wellies, I can’t get the bike stand down (Jenn 2, bike 1), and Chet, looking at me like I am crazy, helps me lay the bike down on its side. Then he grabs me and we start running (Jenn 1, ele 1). The elephant is still pursuing. You may think I am an Amazon woman with ridiculously long legs, but I’ve got nothing on this ele. And Chet is about 5’4.”
So we run. And the ele keeps walking. At some point I shout to Chet that we need to get into the forest, thinking it will be better because we will be harder to see and the ele can’t follow us as fast. I’m too scared to look back and see how close the elephant is; navigating running in my raingear with my backpack on my belly (I was the one driving, remember) was challenge enough. Chet tells me though that the ele stopped to sniff the bike.
Then salvation in the form of Hilux headlights came down the road. Chet and I were able to signal Khun Sitat to slow down and I “hid” behind the car to allow my pulse to slow. Come to save the day were Khun Sitat and his wife on their way out of the sanctuary. We followed the car to the bike and the elephant was gone.
So then I turn to Chet and say, “Do you want to drive now?”
And he says, “No, you drive.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
