At Sailom Resort

P1060138 We arrived safely in Bang Saphan mid-afternoon on Saturday, tired from the drive but glad it didn’t take longer.  We found the resort easily enough; Bang Saphan is really not much more than a fishing village so it didn’t take much searching to find it!

Sailom Resort appears to be maybe a year old.  The facilities are in very good condition but the trees and bushes haven’t really filled in.  In a few years, it will be much nicer and the landscaping will be more lush and there will be a little more shade.  Right now, the direct sun is very… direct.

There are very beautiful flowers throughout the grounds, though, such as the one pictured to the right.  It is hard to believe that this is real, the colors are so vivid!

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The resort is composed of individual cottages, actually very reasonably sized so that a couple has plenty of room inside the cottage as well as a nice porch out front.  Half the cottages face the pool and the others are around the corner with a view of the Gulf of Thailand.

Below: Looking across the pool towards the Gulf.

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A road separates the resort from the beach, and that stretch of beach is not really public.  There is a fence although there are so many gaps you could easily access it.  Also, like many of the beaches on this side of the Gulf, it is not really pretty.  Plus, unlike Hua Hin or Cha-Am, there are no services provided: no umbrellas, no vendors, etc.

The upside is that you can really enjoy you beach undisturbed.  There was another stretch nearby that we drove to, probably about 4 km long with white sand, scattered driftwood, and not a single person anywhere.  Except for Tawn, of course!

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Tawn spent much of the two days sleeping and I spent much of it reading.  There is only so much sleeping I can do.  We also did a lot of eating.

Tawn’s friend Tui recommended a restaurant on the beach.  “It doesn’t look like much,” he said, “but the food is quite good.”

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He wasn’t kidding.  The shack really looked pretty run-down (above) and the the girls working were listless.  But we enjoyed some lovely crab friend rice and gang som plaa, fried fish with greens in a tamarind paste broth, below.

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We did some exploring and encountered the local Songkhran celebrations.  I shot a good amount of video footage and have been editing it together to share with you, but am receiving video card errors when using Adobe Premiere Elements.  If anyone knows anything about video cards on laptops and what I can do about these errors, please send me a message!

I’ll wait another day or so to share the pictures and (hopefully) video footage.

Along the way we passed a lot of beaches where the fishing fleets drop off their catches.  There are rows and rows of tarpaulin across the street on which thousands of sardines are dried in the sun.  We stopped so I could take a picture.  I asked the workers, in Thai, if I could take a picture and they just stared at me like I had landed from the moon.  Either they weren’t Thai or a farang asking to take a picture of their work is just the strangest thing they have ever encountered.

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We had dinner at a second restaurant nearby the first. This one looked a little nicer, prices were a bit higher, and so were our expectations.  Sadly, they were not met.  The grilled prawns arrived looking a little small but tasting fresh… until we got past the few on the top of the plate only to discover that the ones at the bottom had been frozen previously.  Tawn complained to the waitress and she claimed no knowledge of that.  “Oh, they were delivered from our vendor this morning.” she said.  Yeah, straight from his deep freezer.

Just from the color in the picture below you can tell they aren’t the same!

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The grilled squid, which the waitress especially recommended, was not very fresh, either.  When squid is really fresh, it is quite tender and is really a pleasure to eat.  After chewing one piece for a minute without it getting any closer to being ready to swallow, I gave up.

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After two nights at the resort, we packed our bags and got an early start back to Khrungthep.  There really wasn’t much else to do in Bang Saphan and as Songkhran isn’t a recognized holiday for my US employer, I had to get back to work.  Thankfully, since there were still two days left in the holiday, traffic was really light on the road.  We made it back to Khrungthep in very reasonable time.

Along the way we made a number of interesting stops.  There was one point where all alongside the highway there were fruit vendors, kind of a nonstop line several hundred meters long.  Everyone was selling watermelon.  We bought two, one red and one yellow.  Can you imagine the carnage if a vehicle lost control and smashed into the stands?

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P1060188 One of the prides of Thailand are the clean, modern petrol stations.  We pulled into one that looked quite new, had several restaurants, a nice coffee shop that could give Starbucks a run for its money, vendors, a children’s play area, etc. 

They also had an antique pump on display, everything written in Thai except for the manufacturer’s name: Avery Hardoll.  If you need a vintage petrol pump, there is a company in the UK that will sell you one, completely restored.  Just what you need for your birthday, right?

As we approached Samut Songkhram, site of the big construction on the roadway, we heeded the advice of a sign and opted for a detour that took us on a wide circle to the west of Khrungthep and then in on surface streets.  It added about 50 km to the route, but we were able to explore some unfamiliar territory and traffic was light so it was okay.

Along the way, we discovered a new location for the Cabbages and Condoms resort/restaurant chain.  Operated by the non-profit Population and Community Development Association (PDA), these restaurants and resorts not only provide employment to local communities, they serve as the source of much of the funding for the PDA’s programs in population control, HIV/AIDS education, poverty reduction, microcredit, etc.  Tawn’s father is one of the executives of the organization, so we like to support them.

The restaurant in Ratchaburi province has been open only four months and when we arrived we were the only guests there.  Of course, we did stop quite early for lunch.

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The food was really tasty: asparagus stir-fried with shrimp, Northeaster style larb salad made with tofu instead of pork, and a fish curry that has thin strips of fragrant kaffir lime leaves sprinkled on top.  Aroy maak!

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Afterwards, we performed the traditional Songkhran ritual of bathing the Buddha images (conveniently placed outside the front door) with lustral water and a fragrant powder.

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The most amazing thing about the entire trip is that Tawn didn’t use hair products the whole time!  And he still looked so handsome!

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We were back home by mid-afternoon, leaving us plenty of time to rest and then try and watch a movie.  Sadly, the showtimes on the internet were incorrect so all we were able to do was visit the cinema lobby and talk with a friendly cashier.  Not quite as much fun as watching a movie, really.

 

The Drive to Bang Saphan

Bang Saphan We started our drive to Bang Saphan on Saturday morning at 7:00.  The start of a 5-day weekend, we knew that there would be plenty of company on the roads and had steeled our nerves, laying in a basket of snacks and packing the iPod charger.

Located 385 kilometers south of Khrungthep, Bang Saphan is at the southern end of Prachuap Khiri Khan province, the same one in which Hua Hin is located.  Another further south and we’d officially leave Central Thailand and be in the South.

The road was two lanes in each direction, and generally in good condition.  Except for a little spot of construction.  Well, two little spots of construction, each about 10 km long and one of which involved one whole side of the road being shut down and all the traffic had to share the other side.

As you can imagine, traffic was a teensy bit heavy.

What would normally be about a four-and-a-half hour trip stretched to about seven, plus an hour for lunch and breaks.

Still, it could have been worse.  Tawn was expecting ten hours.

Along the way we saw all sorts of crazy things on the road:

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Above: Not sure if this is a pickup truck or a spare axle being carried along…  Below: Most everyone drove a pickup truck and in addition to the five or six or seven people squeezed into the cab, it was common to see two or three or seven sitting in the bed of the truck.  In the hot sun for hours and hours.

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Above: During Songkhran people like to splash your car (and you) with water and a talcum-like power.  This clever driver preemptively covered his entire car with a pair of big eyes on the front and wear windscreens providing (some) visibility.  Below: As we got further from the city, we started seeing signs of country life such as a truck of cattle and a huge stack of hay.  No, the hay was not directly in front of the cattle, although that would have been funny.

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Below: At one long traffic jam, we noticed this building alongside the road that appears to have been taken over by ivy.

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Finally, a reminder that Songkhran is the most dangerous period on Thai roads.  In the five days from Friday to Tuesday, there were 3,537 road accidents, 3,992 injuries, and 276 deaths.  While there has been a big increase in enforcement efforts in the past few years, this number has remained very high and, sadly, so many of the deaths are alcohol-related.  More about that in my next post.

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Day before Songkhran

P1050856 Back from our Songkhran getaway, I’ll give you the first of two entries, this one dating from last Friday. 

Roka’s best friend Stacy arrived on Thursday from Portland, Oregon.  About a month ago Roka asked if I’d take Stacy sightseeing, since Friday would be the one day when Roka was still working and would be unable to show Stacy around.  I agreed and met up with Stacy at lunchtime.

Also, in a bit of serendipity, I met up with another friend who is visiting from Phoenix, back after an eighteen month absence.  The three of us had lunch before Marc headed off to run errands and Stacy and I caught the canal taxi into the old city.

It was hot and sunny on Rattanakosin Island but with a stiff breeze.  The air was unusually clear, not only for this normally smog-choked city but also when considering that a landfill fire had been burning for five days in an adjacent province southeast of the city.

To take advantage of the clear air, we headed to Wat Saket, also known as “Golden Mount”.  This is the highest geographic point in the city, a man-made hill and the only hill in Khrungthep.  The current chedi dates to the reign of King Rama V, who enshrined a Buddha relic belonging to the royal family there in 1877.

Right: View of Wat Saket from San Saeb canal.

In the temple grounds at the base of the hill  there was a Songkhran festival underway, a display of traditional new year’s activities.  Students from a nearby school were wearing traditional outfits, pouring jasmine-scented water over the hands of their elders, washing Buddha images, and playing jump rope and other games.

P1060043 A reporter and cameraman from channel 7 news was on the scene, filming the water blessings.  As I stepped behind the cameraman to try and get the same shot, the reporter said to him, in Thai, “Why don’t you move for that farang behind you.”  To which I repled, “mai pben rai” – no worries!

As soon as she realized that I understood Thai, she decided that she would interview me.  Camera rolling, Stacy and I participated in the water blessing ceremony, pouring water on the hands of the seated elders and wai‘ing them.  Then the reporter asked me a series of questions about why I was interested in these traditional ceremonies and what I though about Thai culture.  I stumbled my way through the short interview, amusing everyone as I went along.  Tawn will be checking with his media clipping service to see if I made the evening news or not.

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After making our media appearance, we climbed the double-helix staircases to take in the view.  The breezes were very cooling at the top of the 100-meter tall hill.  Standing in the shade, all of my sweat dried up.  While not nearly as impressive as the view from the top of the Banyan Tree or Baiyoke 2, there was still a nice view of the old city.  Below, my telephoto lens is maxed out to take this picture of the residence portion of the Grand Palace.

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We enjoyed the view for a while, took some pictures, and watched as the temple assistants strung strings around the chedi so people could attach bills as part of a special collection for charity.  Temple bells, prayers written on the copper clappers, chimed in the wind with a hundred different voices.

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Staying in the shade as much as possible, we walked down Ratchadamnoen Avenue (the Champs Elysees of Khrungthep) past the Iron Pagoda, Democracy Monument, and October 1973 memorial, before catching a taxi to Wat Pho, the Temple of the Reclining Buddha.

P1060080 Since it was already late in the afternoon, the crowds of tourists had gone and monks and laypeople were busy setting up the temple grounds for the Songkhran festivities. 

A pair of novices, aged about eighteen and ten, took a break from shoveling sand to shore up the poles holding the fluttering flags and were making sand sculptures. 

“What are you making?” I asked.  The older one traced a pair of eyes and patted a nose, answering, “The Lord Buddha”.  The younger one smiled as he worked on his mis-shappen hill.  “A chedi!” he responded, confident that his claim could not be disproven.

We continued on, visting the main statue hall where the 46-meter long Buddha in repose never fails to amaze, his serene expression inducing a similar response in most visitors. 

Dwarfed at his side, an artisan made repairs, carefully adding leaves of gold.  Working at no particular hurry, he added one small square after another to the Buddha’s right thigh.

Ignoring the touts and vendors outside the temple, we walked to the nearby pier and jumped aboard the next river taxi.  Dozens of tourists, afraid of missing their stop, stayed crowded at the rear of the boat.  We pushed forward towards the bow, where the crowds were thinner and the breeze more enjoyable.

We eventually made our way back to my condo for a quick chance to freshen up, and to give Stacy an opportunity to meet Tawn.  Then we were on our way via motorcycle taxi to meet Roka, Ken, Markus and Vic at a nearby Thai restaurant.  The motorcycle taxi was a bit of a cheap thrill for Stacy.

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It made for a very pleasant end to the afternoon.  Unfortunately, Tawn did not join because he had dinner with his school friends.  After I finished dinner with my friends, I walked 100 meters down the street to the Chinese restaurant where Tawn was eating.  Their food was just arriving so I stayed and visited, although did not eat.  Pim had brought her daughter Tara with her, who was enjoying playing with her Uncle Tawn, below.

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Off to Bang Saphan for Songkhran

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When it starts getting this hot – that construction workers are lazing about in whatever shade they can find, then you know that Songkhran (Thai New Year) is about here.

Tawn and I are driving down to Bang Saphan, about 480 km south of Krungthep, to spend the first three days of the five-day holiday.  There’s lots more I’ve been meaning to write about, and I’ll get to that upon my return.

Meanwhile, happy Songkhran to you!

A Telling Story – Teenage Castration Debate

File this under “Strange But True”.  There is a debate going on in Thailand between health authorities, teenage transsexuals, gay rights groups, mental health professionals, and anyone else with an opinion on the issue, about whether or not teenage boys who identify as women should be allowed to undergo surgical castration.

What’s interesting about this story, apart from the novelty of it, is that it really offers a lot of insight into Thai culture and the condition of gays and transsexuals in this country.  Without getting into too much detail, let me see if I can give you some meaningful insight:

 

The situation

30070266-01 In the past few weeks it has come to light that some clinics are performing surgical castrations on teenage boys who say they identify as women.  The rationale for performing the surgery is that by removing the testicles before puberty or before puberty is complete, the more masculine characteristics such as deep voice, pronounced Adam’s apple, broad shoulders, muscular development, facial/body hair growth, and eventual male-pattern baldness will be avoided.

Right: A ladyboy shows up at a Thai army conscription center, trying to defy the government’s ban on transwomen participating in military service.

This surgery, which can cost as little as 5,000 baht (about US$160) has apparently been performed with parental consent, presumably from parents in the countryside who do not know much about the issues involved and just want their sons to be happy.  It has also possibly also been performed on teenagers who do not have parental consent. 

The Public Health Ministry intervened and announced a ban on the surgery, apparently for patients of any age, while the issue is sorted out.  Additionally, the Ministry reiterated that the penalty for performing this surgery without parental consent could include revocation of medical licenses, a year imprisonment, and a fine of up to 20,000 baht.

 

Questions Raised 

The outing of this subject has provoked debate among disparate groups.  Questions that have been raised include:

Are teenage boys emotionally mature enough to make the decision to be castrated?  What risk of damage is there physically – e.g. hormones, bone development, etc.?  Do young gays feel like they have to do this in order to be accepted – i.e. better to be a transsexual rather than a gay man?  Is withholding the surgery making the transition into the correct gender more difficult later on and if so, do we have a right to deny people that choice?

 

344285131_5ee72d3ce0 Sorting Through the Issues

Unlike in many other countries, young men in Thailand often seem to become aware of their non-heterosexuality at an early age.  This may be for a variety of reasons, including the general tolerance of gays and transvestites in Thai culture, as well as their greater visibility than in some other countries. 

Left: A Thai “ladyboy” performing in one of the cabaret shows for which Bangkok is famous.

Saying that Thailand is more accepting of gays and transsexuals is actually a broad generalization and really ignores some important complexities to the issue, but I’m not going to get into that right now other than to say that – broadly speaking – Thais are more accepting of transwomen (people biologically born as men who identify as women) than they are of gay men.

The committee that recommended the ban suggested that there are potential physical health issues that can occur because of prepubescent castration.  While I’m no doctor, a poke about the internet didn’t turn up any especially notable issues.  Castrated boys are likely to grow taller because testosterone slows long bone growth, and they will likely have less body strengths and overall muscle mass, but it doesn’t appear that there are major health risks associated with the surgery.

From a mental health standpoint, there may be more serious concerns.  The biggest is around whether or not a teenage boy who may opt for the surgery does so because he actually identifies as a woman.  In many western countries, extensive psychological evaluation is undergone before permission is given for gender reassignment surgery.  That may not be the case in Thailand and is certainly not the case for teenage castration, which is seen as giving similar results as a sex-change operation.

Something I’ve learned is that for young men who identify as not being heterosexual, there is a lot of – not quite an accurate term but I’ll call it “peer pressure” – to identify as a transsexual.  There are many reasons contributing to this, but in general there is a lack of viable role models for gay men.  The ones that we see very prominently on TV and in movies are almost always extremely effeminate and are usually the butt of jokes.  They’re either “bitchy queens” (pardon my language, Grandpa) or sissies.  But what we don’t see are examples of gay men who conform to more masculine standards of appearance and behavior.

(Side note: I realize that by making these generalizations there is the potential to open up a huge debate about gender and sexual identity and what “masculine” and “feminine” really mean and how those identities are constructed.  For the purpose of this blog, I’m going to just stick with the traditionally constructed definitions and apologize in advance to anyone I offend.)

“Someone would choose to identify as a transsexual even if that wasn’t how they really felt, rather than identify as a gay man?”  This may sound unbelievable to you.  It sounded unbelievable to me, too, when I first heard this theory put forth.  But a friend shared this observation made by a ladyboy friend of his: 

“I figured it would be easier for me to be with a man by being a woman, than if I remained as a man.”

Gay Thai men I know have confirmed that when they were younger and defining their identity, there was a lot of pressure from some of the other boys to identify as ladyboys and transsexuals.  As Tawn explained it, there was a conflict there because he knew he wasn’t a woman, and yet there weren’t any clear role models of masculine gay men.  Because of this, I’d say there is a reasonable doubt to be had when it comes to the question of whether teenage boys are ready psychologically to go under the knife.

 

That leaves us with the final question, of whether or not we have the right to withhold this procedure from a young man who does accurately identify as a woman, forcing him to develop into a masculine body that will make it more difficult for him to claim his correct gender identity as he later transitions towards being a woman.

This is a difficult question, I think.  If the medical questions can be put to rest, and there is a way to legitimately determine that the young man does indeed suffer from gender dysphoria, a condition brought on by a “mismatch” of the body’s sex and the person’s gender identify, then maybe we should allow the surgery to go ahead, easing the transition from man to woman. 

If those questions cannot be adequately answered, then I’d agree that it is best to make young men wait before taking so irreversible an action as castration surgery.

What do you think?

 

As an interesting side observation: this entire discussion in the Thai press has not addressed the issue of young women who identify as men at all.  On the gay Thai chatboards there has been debate as to whether breast reduction surgery for young women faces the equivalent questions, medically and morally, as does the castration of teenage boys.

 

A weather momento of my grandparents

P1050999 Yes, as the thermometer shows, it is hot season.  And just like hot season anywhere in the tropics, heat comes with rain which the humidity gauge (what do you call them, humidimeters?) shows, too. 

Interestingly, we’ll get more of the rain when rainy season begins around late June so don’t let this 100% humidity scare you away.  It does get worse!  Or, at least, wetter.

There is a little story behind this retro-fifties combo temperature and humidity gauge.  This hung in the Merriam, Kansas home of my paternal grandparents for as long as I can remember. 

Being midwesterners, the weather was always a topic of interest and concern.  Letters and phone calls pretty quickly addressed the recent and current state of the weather, often offering comparisons to extremes set in previous years:

“Lots of rain, the most we’ve had since the spring of ’73…”

“Don’t recall a snow before Halloween except that October after we moved into the house..”

On the coasts, where people see themselves as so much more sophisticated than the people in “flyover country”, the arrival of weather as a topic is a clichéd sign that the conversation is about to die a sudden death or get bogged down like a superpower in a third world nation.  Not so in the midwest, where weather is front and center in the evening newscast and equally prominent in conversation and correspondence.

Now that I’m here in Thailand, I miss those detailed weather reports.  I know there is more going on than, “Very hot with a chance of rain.”  I feel a breeze… is that a low pressure system?  From where?  How can people live without knowing?

In the final fourteen months before I left the US for Thailand, I lived in my grandmother’s house.  By then she was in assisted living until she passed away three years ago this summer, preceeded by my grandfather fifteen years before that.  As we cleaned up the house and sorted through their things, this thermometer struck me as a small keepsake that would remind me of my grandparents.  It was also a little piece of my fourteen months of being a Kansan.

 

Ride finds combines and, eventually, Hell

Sorry for the delay in writing.  My computer’s hard drive, which I swear I’ve been cleaning up and organizing all along, nonetheless reached 95% capacity and until I offloaded some of the contents onto DVDs and external drives, I was unable to edit the video I wanted to attach to this entry.  I finally had some time to do that and am ready to write this post.  For some reason, I just can’t allow myself to post too out of order so various events from this week will trickle out over the next few days.

Ride Area Overview Last Sunday morning, Stuart, Markus and I went riding in Minburi.  There was a 70km ride scheduled with the Thai Cycling Club in an area south of the city, but those rides move really slow and make lots of stops.  Not wanting to be beholden to a hundred other people, we opted to set out on our own.

This was Stuart’s second ride with me and his first as a proud owner of a new bicycle.  The previous day he had rented a bicycle from Spiceroads, a company that does very good bicycle tours.  He was so dissatisfied with the quality of the rental bike that when he met me at the bicycle shop for a little browsing he had, unbeknownst to me, already decided to buy.  And I thought I’d have to cajole him a little!

The ride site was, as usual, the rice paddies and surrounding countryside in Minburi and Nong Chuk, northeast of the city although still within the Khrungthep province, pictured right.  It took about an hour to get there, since we were looking for a well-placed wat (temple) at which we could park.

We did find a quiet country wat and pulled in and took the bikes off the rack.  I asked a dek wat – literally a “temple child” or assistant to the monks, who in this case is a man in his fifties – whether it would be okay to park there for a few hours.  He said it would and when I asked whether he had ever had any farang bicycle riders come through the wat, he surprised me by saying that it happens a few times a month.  He also kindly suggested I move my car to a spot that would be in the shade when I returned and asked me to make sure the doors were locked.

We set out along the northern of the two roads that border khlong San Saeb, the same canal that the canal taxi boats run along inside the city.  From there we headed down some small soi that led through vaguely residential areas.  These roads are familiar territory as I’ve been down them several times before.  We worked our way to “the invisible lake”, below, a rather sizeable body of water that doesn’t appear on either my road atlas of the greater Khrungthep area or on Google Maps, although the satellite view does show it.

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The lake is on private property, which is probably why it doesn’t appear on the maps, but there is no fence so Markus suggested that we try to ride around it.  I’m always a little hesitant to leave public roads and venture onto private property.  While Thais in general aren’t the shotgun-toting type, I’m a big believer in property rights and respecting them. 

We headed out and found the path pretty rough and, about a quarter way around (a little past the promontory you see in the picture) the paths became impassable and because of some reverse irrigation, very muddy.  Actually, the gears and brakes of my bike were clogged with mud and straw making it necessary to do some dirty cleaning.

P1050921 Along the way, we encountered some cows.  Taking care to not spook them, as getting gored by a cow is not my idea of fun, I stopped to take a few pictures of a trio of calves who were resting nearby, left.

They were really cute.  When Tawn saw this picture he announced that he wanted to adopt them.

We continued, leaving the lake and more developed areas behind for the open rice fields of Nong Chuk.  Before you know it, the trees and scattered houses (many no more than shacks) gave way to a view of endless green meeting the big sky a long and hazy way off.

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In the midst of this we stopped to investigate a park that is under construction, below.  Being built by the local Buddhists in a largely Muslim corner of the province, it will eventually become a wat but for the time being will be a park honoring a revered monk.  Much of the compound is being built in a basin that looks like it might have been intended as an irrigation lake.  Speaking with the construction foreman, I discovered he was proficient at English so I asked a few questions, answered a few questions, and enjoyed the ice water his wife offered us.

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Below, architectural detail of the statue that is being constructed in the picture above.  While I originally assumed it would be an image of Buddha, as is the white one in the saffron colored robe, it turns out it will depict a revered monk.

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P1050929 In front of the statue was a platform that had been set up with offerings, above.  It seems that there had been a ceremony the previous day (or maybe earlier that morning) to dedicate the whole affair. 

The flower arrangements were amazing, depicting many traditional forms and mythical creatures.  The main one, pictured right, has a bull on top (a nod to Brahmanism) with the creatures depicting the Chinese zodiac around the base. 

This was the centerpiece of the offerings, a white cloth suspended overhead on a network of white strings that connected all the offerings to the new statue. 

These strings are used in Buddhism, during various ceremonies, to literally connect participants to a venerated object like an image of the Buddha, in essence combining their collective prayers.  Sort of a Buddhist prayer daisy-chain.

In the picture below, the image of Buddha is shown in a traditional seated posture with a multi-headed naga, or mythological deity in serpent form, forming a protective hood over him. 

P1050932 As the story goes, the naga Muscalinda protected Siddhartha Gautama as he meditated under the bodhi tree.  After forty-nine days the heavens clouded over and it rained for seven days.  Muscalinda sheltered Gautama from the elements as he attained enlightenment, becoming the supreme Buddha (or “Awakened One”) of our age.  How’s that for a little Buddhist history you may not have known?

In any case, the detail of this arrangement is incredible.  The heads of the naga are made of rolled leaves, the mouths lined with small purple flowers and the teeth made of jasmine.  Only the tongues are not natural, made using red ribbon.

I’m fascinated at how there are so many elements of Buddhist mythology that trace back to Hinduism.  No surprise of course, as Buddhism was born in a Hindu society and Gautama’s family would surely have been Hindu.  But the liberal borrowing of creatures and stories is interesting.

We continued our ride and stopped for a bowl of noodles at a small nondescript restaurant at the intersection of two equally nondescript roads.  Despite the unremarkable restaurant, the bowl of pork noodles was really tasty and at twenty baht would almost be worth a ride all the way back out there!

Heading north, I wondered about Wat Peuchamongkol, a temple I’ve been to on two previous rides with Spiceroads.  It is a temple that has an amusement park-like depiction of heaven and hell.  While I had the name written down, like the lake this temple didn’t appear on any maps.

Rather serendipitously we ran into it about fifteen minutes later, a stroke of luck and nothing more.  I watched the bikes while Markus and Stuart went to hell and then, on my recommendation, heaven.  Afterwards, we stopped at the vendors in the car park – this is something of a tourist attraction – and had cold drinks.  Stuart fed the fish in the khlong to earn some merit.

P1050940 This being summer break, the temple had plenty of naen – novices – running around.  It is common for young men in Thailand to spend a period of time in the monkhood before their early twenties.  This is done in order to earn merit for your parents, enabling them to be reborn in a better position – defined as being closer to enlightenment – in their next lives. 

Traditionally, this is done during the rainy season when the monks would return from their wanderings to gather at the temples so as to avoid treading on newly-planted rice in the fields.  In modern times, it is common to do it during school break, sort of a religious summer camp.

There were ten or so novices, four of whom are pictured right, playing around by the vendors, considering which treats they’d like to buy.  While their heads and eyebrows were shaved and they’re undoubtedly receiving some religious instruction, they were behaving every bit like young boys: loud, rowdy, and aggressive.  One of them had a small metal object in his hands and when I asked him what it was, he responded with the Thai word borrowed from English, la-zuh

Sure enough, it was a small laser pointer.  The boys all laughed as he projected a red spot on a fellow novice’s forehead, another interesting if unintentional allusion to the Hindu roots of Buddhism.

Riding in the countryside provides an unlimited number of opportunities to appreciate the blessings of my life.  One was this couple paddling by the temple in their canoe, their stomachs distended, a possible symptom of hepatitis B.

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It was a little past noon and the sun was hot and high.  Even trying to drink a lot of water and reapply the sunscreen, it was getting uncomfortable, so we headed back towards the car which was still ten kilometers away.  Along the way, even though according to the map we were still inside the province (although near the edge) we passed this “Welcome to Bangkok” sign, below.  There’s quite a bit of growth on the sign that looks like moss.  The sign does face north…

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P3300069 On the final stretch, we noticed a large amount of smoke rising from the fields to the east of us.  We turned down into a small housing development – a single soi with shoulder-to-shoulder one bedroom single story houses – until we found the fire trucks.  One of the locals explained that there was a grass fire behind the houses and the firemen were trying to fight it from there.  One of the trucks left and we passed them later as they tried to find another path to the fire.

As we spoke with the residents, a small crowd of children gathered.  The boys are always more outgoing than the girls, so when Markus pulled out his camera they ran up to pose for a picture, above.  I made multiple copies of the photo today and will mail the copies to them, in care of the neighbor in the picture who gave me his address.

This is always the best part of exploring outside of Khrungthep.  There are so many friendly people who are excited and curious about strangers: Where are you from?  How long have you been here?  How do you like Thailand?

I’ve never met a people who are more genuinely flattered that people choose to visit their country.  The jaded natives of Khrungthep and tourist towns aside, Thais are generally very proud that their country is such a popular destination.  I wish Americans were a bit more welcoming of visitors.  The xenophobic streak that seems to be on the rise in the U.S. will only be detrimental to the country’s future.

Lest this descend into politics, let me conclude with a video of the rice harvesting we saw.  This is the end of the primary rice growing season in Thailand and we saw a lot of combines while we were riding.  Here’s a short bit about that:

 

Beignet Attempt

DSCF6787 It has been a quest… a dream of sorts, really… to create my own beignets.  It stretches back even further than our trip to San Francisco in March 2007 where we had a divine Sunday brunch at Boulette’s Larder at the Ferry Building featuring Garam Masala beignets.  It stretches all the way back to a previous visit when they had Chinese Five Spice beignets.  Crispy, hot, yeasty, without a drop of oil on the napkins lining the serving dish.  In short – deep-fried perfection.

Let’s take a closer look at those:

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They just look amazing, don’t they?

Ever since I tasted them, I decided that I wanted to try making beignets, too.  Key acquisitions in order to do this: a stove with good heat control and an oil thermometer.

Every recipe I found for beignets online seemed to be a copy of the exact same recipe.  Either everyone in the world makes beignets the exact same way or there’s some serious plagiarism going on.  To top it off, all these recipes called for seven cups of flour.  Seven cups!?  I’m not feeding an army here.  If two cups of flour will give me buttermilk biscuits for four, I certainly don’t need seven cups for my beignets.

Still, never having made beignets before I didn’t want to start experimenting yet.  Caving in, I measured out my seven cups of flour.

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It also contains yeast, water, shortening, sugar, eggs, salt, and evaporated milk.  Theses were summarily mixed together.

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Then placed in an oiled bowl and allowed to rise overnight in the refrigerator.  Even at the cold temperatures, the yeast was prodigious and I was getting a little afraid that I would be woken up by the beeping alarm of my refrigerator door once it had been burst open by the overproductive dough.

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With Stuart’s help taking pictures, I rolled out the dough.  Here is a point where the recipes diverged ever so slightly.  Some said “roll to 1/8 inch” while others said “roll to 1/4 inch”. 

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When it comes to dough, doubling the height is a big different.  I started out with 1/8 on the first third of the dough and opted to cut out rounds rather than squares, just for the heck of it.

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I then heated the oil to 180 C.  Even with an induction stove it is really tricky to keep the oil at a steady temperature as once it heats up, it takes a while to cool down even if it is off the burner.

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Finally, the temperature was right and I started adding beignets.  The first few bobbed immediately to the surface, when it was my understanding they should stay submerged for at least a little while before coming up for air.  We cooked several batches, testing as we went.  The 1/8 inch beignets seemed to cook too quickly so we tried some at 1/4 inch.  These were a little better.

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After several tries, the cooking seemed to come out a little better.  I think that the oil needed to actually be just a little cooler so they didn’t cook too fast.  There were also some experiments with folding the dough several times to create layers but all that seemed to do was create tough beignets.

Here they are, served in the style of Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, a trio under a dusting of powdered sugar.

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My conclusion is that the dough itself lacked flavor and complexity.  I think if I had made a starter and let it ferment for a few hours, the beignets might have had more flavor.  Also, a bit more salt would have helped.

Ultimately, though, I’m not sure I’m cut out for deep frying.  Even with the air purifier running all night and the kitchen exhaust fans running the next day, the house has had the lingering odor of donuts.  Maybe I can get an outdoor stove and cook on the balcony?

 

P.S. Just a note on the Xanga spell check: why are words like “thermometer”, “gay”, and “I’d” not in there?