Since I can’t seem to cajole Tawn into updating his blog, I’ll just continue to provide entries that give you some insight into what he’s doing. While I’m in the United States, Tawn will be in Paris for a few days, followed by two weeks in Italy.
In preparation for the trip, Tawn has been testing different outfits, mixing and matching to create a range of looks for the trip. He had me take some pictures of potential outfits:
Thoughts? I’ll pass them along.
Exactly one week from today – 4:25 pm next Friday – I’ll depart Khrungthep for sixteen days back in the US. The last time I was there was in early October for Alex and Bill’s wedding. Is that a long time between visits? Maybe not. Roka just left this week for a month back in the US, her first visit in three years. That’s a long time.
There are many people I know who only get back home once a year or even less frequently. My feelings about how often I should return are shaped by my childhood. My father worked for United Airlines his entire career so we flew on employee passes. Lots of standby flights, hours and days of waiting for available seats, and lots of flying first thing on Christmas morning, Easter morning, Thanksgiving morning when the flights were less crowded.
Despite those inconveniences, we were still able to travel frequently. Unlike my other cousins (Alex and her family) growing up in the Bay Area, I saw my grandparents in Kansas City at least three or four times a year pretty much every year until my travel privileges expired after graduating from university. So for me not to go back and see my family at least once or twice a year seems pretty strange.
While back, I’ll make stops in San Francisco and Los Angeles. An opportunity to visit friends and additional family. Sadly, there are always more people to visit than there is time.
“Why don’t you come over for dinner?” ask friends who live in a suburb well outside of the city.
“Come stay with us,” invite other friends who are equally out of the way.
I’m thankful for such offers and wary of the time they will consume. It is nice to be missed and I love seeing friends again. I’m also on vacation and don’t want to spend all of my time in transit from one place to another, going from one appointment to the next.
Brunch – coffee – lunch – tea – dinner – drinks – repeat.
Some people are super generous. Curry, Paul, Anita – people who make my visits so enjoyable and smooth.
“Stay with me,” invites the friend who has a centrally located house and no expectation to spend hours and hours hanging out with me.
“Let me pick you up at the airport,” offers another friend who is willing to play chauffeur.
“I’m free then; let me be your tour guide,” insists a friend who has already gone out of his way many times over.
“Let me fire up the barbeque for you!” writes Bill.
I’m extremely thankful for these offers, too, because they make it so much easier to visit.
Then there are the people who are way too generous. ZSA_MD suggested I drive over to Quincy, IL from Kansas City so she could cook Indian food for me. I can’t even begin to tell you how disappointed I am that there won’t be an opportunity on this trip to do that. I mean, have you seen the pictures of her cooking!? It would be like taking the I-70 eastbound to heaven.
Then there are the people who can’t seem to be bothered. “You want me to drive all the way to San Francisco? Can’t you come to see me?” asks the friend who can’t be troubled to drive 40 miles even after I’ve flown 8,000 miles to be there. Oddly, if it is a Saturday night and he wants to go out and party, then the 40 mile drive is not a problem.
Sheesh.
Pics from last Sunday’s bike ride with Markus:
A dozen yappy pomeranians try to bark us to death.
Birds are hung out for some fresh air in a quiet neighborhood near Ramkamhaeng University.
I have a long list of things to do this weekend in preparation for the trip.
Many of you may be aware, at least in a general way, of the ongoing violence in southern Thailand. From time to time I receive questions from friends and family about my safety, usually after a particular bombing or other incident makes its way into the international media.
This violence, with its deep roots and multiple causes, has claimed more than 2,700 lives in the past four years and completely disrupted life in the three southernmost provinces, an area that was already economically distressed.
I won’t go into the history or a detailed discussion of the insurgency – there’s a well-written article here on Wikipedia – but I was confronted by the reality of it, in a very unexpected way, a few weeks ago at Don Meuang Airport.
In the lobby, set against a wall, is an acrylic box collecting donations to buy bullet-proof vests for policemen and teachers.
One of the biggest impacts on the south has been the closure of schools. As symbols of the government, schools and teachers are often targeted for violence. Schools are bombed, teachers are beheaded and their bodies burned – affecting both Muslim and Buddhist communities and students.
Starting in November 2006, schools in the three southernmost provinces were indefinitely shut down. To this day, many of the schools are still closed primarily because very few people are willing to be teachers there. Teachers have transferred out of the provinces or quit altogether, for fear of their lives.
It is a terrible situation. Sadly, donation boxes may not be the best way to protect people there. Based on the contents of the box (pictured below), I’m not putting a lot of faith in it.
Here’s to a hope that one day, people learn to live in peace. It may be a futile hope, but I still have it.
I’m going to cave in and actually answer a featured question. Can you believe it?
The featured question isn’t really the right one to begin with. The first question you need to answer – the question behind the question – is, “How do you feel about the adoption of children by loving, capable parents?”
I think most of us would support it.
There are tens or hundreds of thousands of children out there who desperately need loving, capable parents who will give them the care and support they need to reach their full potential in life.
If you support adoption of children by loving, capable parents, then why would you let untold numbers of orphans go unadopted, stuck in the foster care system, instead of tapping into same-sex couples as a source of great parents?
Is “one mommy and one daddy” the best type of parenting model? Given the 50% divorce rate of different-sex couples, the patterns of adultery, sexual discrimination, and spousal abuse, I can’t see that being a different-sex couple is necessarily a good qualification for being an adoptive parent.
Tawn and I have talked many times about the possibility of raising children. Without a doubt, we would be much better parents than untold numbers of jacked-up parents we read about in the papers every day, or parents that teachers like my sister tell me about.
I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!
Saturday proved to be a fruitful day for blog fodder: blueberry muffins, Khun Nui’s visit, the Independence Day celebrations. I’ll squeeze one last entry out of that day based on the walk from the football pitch to the Skytrain station.
Since the weather was cloudy, breezy and relatively cool, we decided to hoof it all the way to Sukhumvit, a good 25-minute walk. Instead of staying on the main streets, we cut through talat Khlong Toei – the wet market in the Khlong Toei district.
Khlong Toei is a rough and tumble part of town, home to a number of slums that have sprung up on unused land owned by the port authority and the state railway.
Located originally near the abattoir or slaughterhouses, the section of town provided housing for the poor workers. To this day it is still known as place where the poor and destitute live.
Once a year or so, a fire will sweep one of the slums, resulting in the destruction of hundreds of homes and the displacement of thousands of people. Amazingly, they rebuild quite quickly. Sadly, the homes are never any safer.
In fact, there is the interesting story about the work of Father Joe Maier, an American-born Catholic priest that has spend more than thirty-five years working in this community fighting the ravages of poverty, disease, prostitution and drug addiction. Here’s a link to a recent book about his efforts.
Unlike some of the other wet markets in the city, which are listed in the guidebooks as “unique” (but decidedly accessible) looks into the heart of the daily lives of residents of the Big Mango, Khlong Toei’s market sits in relative obscurity.
It is one of the largest markets in the city and if you eat at restaurants or street vendors anywhere along Sukhumvit or in Siam Square, it is certain that at least some of your food was originally purchased at this market.
Let’s take a virtual tour of some of the sights in the market:
Below is a look down one of the long aisles in the market.
By late afternoon, almost everything is closed and vendors have cleaned up and gone home for a few hours of rest before their day begins again in the middle of the night.
The concrete footpaths are still damp from scrubbing. Sunlight filters down through the tarpaulins. The community of shopkeepers is tightly-knit. Friendships are made and families intermarry. True to the Thai ethos, despite the hard work there is always time for some fun. And nothing is more fun that some chit-chat and gossip. Well, except eating!
Above, a view of the khlong – canal – that runs through the market. This used to be used as an open-air sewer, the tides flushing refuse out to the river twice a day. While it still isn’t the cleanest water in the city, shopkeepers are now forbidden to dump anything into it. From what I understand, most of them comply. Quarters are close as houses are tightly packed but this part of the district is by no means the most humble.
Thai Buddhists love pork but rarely eat beef. The taste of Thai Muslims is the reverse. But poultry, below, is a favorite food for Thais of all beliefs. Guaranteeing freshness, you can buy your chickens and ducks alive and kill them yourself at home, or if your condo doesn’t allow that, have them slaughtered and cleaned for you.
The market offers an interesting array of food and no shortage of people who were curious about the farangs walking through their world. I want to go back in the predawn hours, when the market is at its busiest, and see how it looks then. Probably a lot harder to take pictures, though.
If you’re in town, you should stop by for a look. The market is a very short walk from the Queen Sirikit Convention Centre subway station.
Hot on the heels of Independence Day ponderings and a previous post about families that aren’t as close as cozy as they could be, we have an entry about my mother-in-law’s visit this past Saturday.
Several days in advance, Khun Sudha (Tawn’s father) told Khun Nui (Tawn’s mother – “Khun” being a prefix of respect) that he was joining his friends for some social event all day Saturday. She called Tawn to announce that she would come over and visit us on Saturday. Shortly thereafter, she called me to say that she wanted me to cook for her.
Considering my options, I selected a recipe for blueberry muffins from Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook, a.k.a. Baking on the Cellblock. Muffins are a fun breakfast food and, despite the expense of the imported from Australia berries, a worthwhile treat for my mother-in-law.
The recipe is basically a white cake dough: eggs creamed with sugar, add vanilla, then spoon in a mixture of flour, baking powder (of which I need to buy some more – note to self), and salt.
Mix just until moistened, taking care not to over mix. Fold in the blueberries – coat them lightly with the flour mixture beforehand so they don’t sink to the bottom of the muffin – and then scoop into a buttered and floured muffin tin.
After filling the tins, bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the muffins comes out clean.
While the muffins bake, clean out every last bit of goodness from the bowl and eat it with complete disregard for the raw eggs in the batter!
Below: Before and after.
Tawn went to pick up his mother while the muffins were baking. His parents live only about 10 minutes away (when there isn’t any traffic) so by the time the muffins were ready to come out of the oven, Tawn and his mother had returned.
I was fearful that the muffins would stick to the pan, but a little gentle loosening with a table knife was enough to overcome their shyness and they popper right out as if to say, “Hello, world! Eat me!”
Also on the list was a roasted bell pepper fritata.
So easy to roast bell peppers at home using your broiler. Burn them and then thrown them in a plastic container to steam for a few minutes. Peel the charred skins off and then slice and use to add a bit of smoky goodness to your food.
To add some moisture to the eggs, I used cottage cheese. It produces a nice creamy texture and, by adding some additional lumps on top of the fritata, I get a nice browning effect.
Finish with some sliced fresh avocado and you have a good California breakfast on your hands.
Below: Before and after.
Finally, after a flurry of picture taking that caused Khun Nui to arch her eyebrows in a unspoken question, we sat down and ate breakfast.
Above: An artistically-composed show by Tawn and me, Mom and the muffins. Notice that he focused on the muffins.
There is a precious blog entry on the Mamaroo site (related to Xanga but exclusively for mothers) in which a mother tries to convey the experience of having children to those who are considering it, neatly boiled down into a 15-step experiential simulation.
Even though my only parenting experience is helping out with my two nieces, I can see the truth in the author’s words!
Saturday July 5th was the American Chamber of Commerce’s annual Independence Day celebration in Khrungthep. What used to be hosted by the U.S. Ambassador on the stately grounds of his residence on Wireless Road was discontinued several years ago because of security concerns. A few years later, AmCham resurrected the tradition, moving to a new location at a football field and sports complex in Khlong Toei.
Invitations for the event came from two directions: Doug, a friend from Oregon, is involved in AmCham and sent an email. A second email came from Democrats Abroad Thailand, which conducts a voter registration drive at the event.
There was a nice breeze Saturday afternoon and the gathering thunderstorm clouds provided some intermittent shade and, thankfully, nothing more than a few seconds of sprinkles.
We were able to find a shady place to sit while the grounds were emptied and swept by heavy security. The process for entering the field was slow – there was only one gate with two metal detectors and everything was being hand searched, much more thoroughly than even at the airport. But we were in the shade and there were plenty of distractions while we waited to enter.
The set-up was very much like any Independence Day celebration in small town America: vendors offering barbeque, hot dogs and beer; raffles and giveaways; informational booths for different civic groups; giant slides and other games for the children; a stage with life music, magic shows, and other entertainments; the presenting of the colors by the local chapter of the Veterans of Foreign Wars; and evening fireworks.
Because it is rainy season, some areas of the field were quite muddy, resulting in more than a few children who looked like they had engaged in pig wrestling contests. Along with many Americans were lots of Thais and other foreign nationals.
I headed over to the Democrats Abroad table and started my two-hour shift as a volunteer registering people as absentee voters, answering dozens of questions, and selling “Bangkok for Barack” t-shirts. In those two hours, we probably signed up sixty voters and there were several hours remaining when I left at about 4:30.
What was most interesting about the experience was the difference in perception between myself and the other four American expats who arrived with me. Maybe this is because I was actively working at the booth while they grabbed some food and drinks and sat under a tent visiting and, it sounds like, complaining about the event.
Talking with two of them later on, I tried to understand what they felt was so bad about the experience, because they definitely sounded unhappy about it. Here is my understanding of their concerns:
In conclusion, the event was designed “for people who actually miss America”.
Ouch.
While I discard as completely backwards the view of “love it or leave it” – freedom of speech is a constitutional right in the USA, after all – I can understand where that reactionary impulse comes from. Since Saturday, I’ve spent some time thinking about their concerns, trying to understand their point of view. It leaves me feeling kind of odd.
There are many things I dislike about American culture and I try to hang out with a group that is more diverse than just Americans alone precisely because of the “American group think” that is easy to run into amongst any insular group of expats.
Still, my experience at the Independence Day festivities was very different. Maybe if was different just because I was actively involved signing up voters, but here were my observations:
The reaction of the others to the event left me frustrated. Frustrated in part at a sort of negativity that, political beliefs aside, looks like a dark vortex around which I wish to steer clear. Sitting around bitching and moaning just breeds more bitching and moaning. If you don’t like it, do something to make it better.
Frustrated also by the increasing habit of Americans both at home and abroad to isolate themselves in like-minded circles, interacting with and gathering news from people and sources that only serve to reinforce their already-held views. It is healthy to challenge our views and beliefs, right?
Finally, frustrated that my friends didn’t have more fun. The weather was nice, the Belgian beer being poured on tap from the Roadhouse BBQ stand was tasty, and the square dancing group from a local elementary school was cute. In my opinion, it certainly beats another afternoon at the mall or another night sitting on Silom Soi 4 drinking whisky and ogling Thai moneyboys.
Friday I was running errands. On the list was a visit to the Cotto tile store on Asoke to pick up some additional tiles. After our remodel last 
year, we discovered that the floor of the shower and the shower glass were poorly designed and poorly installed so we’ll need to re-remodel that area. That’s another entry, which I’ll get to.
The Cotto tile store is in the FICO building, right next to the Millennium Sukhumvit Hotel which opened late last year. Cotto must own the property or have offered quite a deal, because the bathrooms at the Millennium, which I stopped to use on the way back to the car park, are an exquisite showpiece of Cotto tiles!
I don’t normally take pictures in bathrooms – fortunately there was nobody in there – but I just had to share this with you.
Actually, as spectacular as it looks, there is a design flaw. The water faucet runs up the back of the sink and shoots down into the bowl. Sadly, the water hits near the back edge of the bowl so when you wash your hands, water splashes back behind the sink and onto the wall and floor. Must be a pain for janitorial staff.
Here’s a clever little video created to promote condom use in Hyderabad, in central south India. Warning: shocking gay sex graphic at 5:49! 
christao408 