femme farang

Elephantstay

Loong Sap loves her morning crackers!

I don’t know where to begin. Many of you are aware of my longstanding obsession with elephants and will recall how I have been telling you all of my dream to someday spend some time with them and wash them in a river somewhere. I have waited years to do something like that.

Damon and I spent four days at Elephantstay at

Ayutthaya

, about an hour and a half out of

Bangkok

, and we can both confirm that it is one of the best things we have ever done together (along with snorkeling in

Borneo

and eating our way around

Provence

).

We arrived at

9.30 am

at a very relaxed working elephant village and were greeted by Ewa and Michelle, two Australians who manage the elephant program. The village is the living vision of one man, Pi Om. In Thai, you refer to elders or people of senior standing as ‘Pi’ and those who are younger than you or of lesser standing as ‘Nong’. I don’t really know all that much about Pi Om except that he was a wealthy businessman in

Bangkok

before he started collecting and rescuing elephants. He started by buying an elephant for his daughter and then another for his wife. He now owns over 150 elephants, though not all of them live at the village. He buys them from mahouts (elephant carers) all over

Thailand

who can no longer afford them or from people who are mistreating them. Elephants are very expensive to maintain as they eat over 200 kilos of food a day. Back in the day, mahouts were very highly respected members of society and elephants were held in very high esteem, being used in battles and even being credited by some for the freedom

Thailand

enjoys today. Pi

Om

told us that, these days, Thai people don’t know much about elephants. His dream is to have a sustainable elephant village and restore the dignity of the Thai elephant, which is rapidly declining in

Asia

and, indeed the world. To this end, he has implemented many innovative initiatives, such as making paper from elephant dung and selling their dung as fertilizer. He has rented 100 acres of land to plant and grow elephant grasses (which he has experimented with) and corn for the mahouts to sell. The mahouts all live in the village with their families.

Our cabins.

I don’t even know where to begin describing the magnitude of the work these dedicated people are doing in the name of conservation and providing a self-sufficient sanctuary for the elephants to live in. They have elephants of all ages living in the village, which is a World Heritage site called the Royal Elephant Kraal. Most of the elephants are working elephants. They leave the village in the morning to take people on rides and perform at shows and such. It is quite a sight to see all the hustle and bustle as the mahouts and their elephants return home at

5 pm

from whatever they have been doing. I can’t help but think of Dolly Parton’s song ‘Working 9 to 5’ and giggle when I think about it. Some people would argue that it is not natural to get elephants to perform ‘tricks’. Elephants are very intelligent creatures, requiring stimulation, and having something to do during their prime years makes them happy. They are treated with love and well cared for. When the mahouts come back to the village of an afternoon, they practice training their elephants in a field nearby. Some of the stuff they get their elephants to do was amazing and makes you respect the connection they have with their elephant even more.

One of the things Damon and I enjoyed so much about our stay was that we felt like we were only a small part of what goes on in the village and not the primary objective. The village has a very relaxed vibe and we were largely left to our own devices in between taking the elephants to the river. It could have been a scenario where you step off the bus and are immediately ushered to a show followed by structured activity all day. Michelle and Ewa have thought about what people would benefit from and gave us a lot of time to soak the village up and observe the behaviour of the elephants that surrounded us.

We spent a lot of our free time sitting on this day bed watching the babies and their mothers.

People who come to volunteer are assigned either an elephant to share or their own elephant to look after. Damon and I opted to share as we wanted to share the connection we developed with our friend. Volunteers work with retired female elephants who have typically been retired from a hard working life and are happy to be looked after, bathed, walked to the river and so on.

Our elephant was dear old Loong Sap (which means prosperity), a 65-year old logging elephant. The scars on her head are the result of pushing logs and being beaten with a stick to the head (heartbreaking, I know). After a while, you start to pick up on each elephants little ways. For instance, Loong Sap has a habit of putting leaves and branches on her head to fashion a fetching hat. We could always pick her out from the crowd. She was also very communicative in that she peed when she was excited, nervous or confused – a trait I found most endearing, but which I am told had made her pretty unpopular with the other elephants in the past. Since becoming one of the elephants that volunteers look after, Michelle told us Loong Sap has a newfound sense of confidence and has become well-liked by the other old biddies. We were told that she now moves away from her food to pee, which reflects a higher sense of self-worth. What a complex thing!

Here is Loong Sap with the other old biddies.

We didn’t know this before, but elephants make a rumbling noise when they are pleased. I am sure they can rumble when unhappy too, but Loong Sap’s rumble was the equivalent of a giant elephant purr. It took us a few days of riding her and feeding her but, by our last day, she would turn her head right into mine, look me straight in the eye and give a slow rumble of appreciation while I stroked her trunk. It is an amazing feeling.The connection we shared was evident to all.  She also had an affection for Damon.  For some reason, she was happiest when we brought her back from the river and she was being tethered up and fed.

It feels very strange climbing on an elephant and sitting on its head for the first time. They are quite hairy and it doesn’t feel natural to sit that far forward on them, but it only takes a few minutes to get used to it. You have to ride barefoot and stick your feet behind their ears to give commands. We had only been there a couple of hours before I got up on Loong Sap and rode her into the river for a wash. She is not the biggest water lover. Another elephant there called Dok Ma loved the water and frequently dunked her head under. It took me a few days to fall into sync with Loong Sap’s ways in the river but I learned how to remain calm and not demand too much of her (she didn’t like putting her head under water and was quite strong willed about it. By the last couple of days, I didn’t have to ask her to do it as she knew she had to go under at least once or twice. My favourite part was just sprawling out over her head and being still with her in the water.

Loong Sap and I share a moment. Yes, I realise my hair looks terrible. That pigmentation on her trunk is from the sun and probably from pushing logs.

Scrubbing her down of an afternoon was hard work but a good way to get to know her.

Loong Sap was rumbling as this photo was taken.

Hi Loong Sap!

I have lots more pictures but I will split them up over posts for technical reasons.

The last batch

Here are the last of the photos from Halong Bay:

The money shot. Jac spent the trip back to Hanoi taking photos through the window of a moving car. This is one of them. I reckon it could be the cover of the next Lonely Planet.

So, aside from some random bites on my arm that caused me to have some peculiar side effects, the trip was a success.

Halong Bay

On the advice of our friend, Avi, Jac and I decided to spend a night on a junk in Halong Bay, about three hours out of Hanoi. It was the right thing to do.

This is our boat. We spent a night on it in the middle of Halong Bay. Everything about it was great except the steep price of spirits and wine. I wasn't prepared to pay U$15 for a GLASS of wine or US$10 for a GLASS of JD and coke, especially given that the whole trip to Halong Bay cost only US$77, including magnificent food. I thought this would be the night I would learn to enjoy a beer (which was only $2), but it was not to be. I think I can safely say now that, because it didn't happen then, it will never happen.   

On our second day, we decided to go kayaking in the morning (included in our package). It was one of the most fun things I have ever done. It was so serene and beautiful and also fun to try something new. Lucky for me, Jac was born in the ocean and is all over any type of water activity, so I was in good hands.

We got to see floating villages.

More Hanoi

There is a beautiful lake in Hanoi that is quite scenic. Because it is cooler than Bangkok, you can actually walk around and not want to die.

It's very Monetesque, isn't it?

Lovely, cheap food with European influences. Though I have to say that Thai food is more flavoursome. 

This is a photo of a song we caught on TV. We thought it was hilarious that these children were dancing merrily around a tank.

Uncle Ho

My office decided to hold their annual retreat in Hua Hin for three days. Before they left, we all attended two very interesting days of training, where we discussed many aspects of the commercial sexual exploitation of children (CSEC), such as child protection models of care and the Make-IT-safe campaign. After those two days, the office then went to Hua Hin to discuss management issues and, since I and the other interns are not permanent staff, we were given three days off.

I decided to use that time to take advantage of the myriad cheap airfares that are available in the region (Air Asia rocks, for those of you planning to travel around Asia) to go to Vietnam. Luckily for me, Jac decided she could take time off and come too.

Accommodation is so cheap in Hanoi. There are heaps of boutique hotels in the old quarter, a beautiful area of Hanoi near the lake. My only recommendation would be to make sure you get a room off the street, as the street noise can be a bit much. That's another thing we noticed straight away: they LOVE to ride their horns in Hanoi, probably because there are so many motorcycles (many more than cars). It made us realise that, despite the fact that there is so much traffic in Bangkok, the Thais don't use their horns a lot, which is probably because we would all go deaf. It was so interesting to travel to another country from Thailand rather than Australia because, after two months, Bangkok feels like home and it was in that context that we were making our first impressions and comparisons.

The streets of the old quarter are lined with colonial terrace houses with beautiful facades in varying states of repair. There are lots of cafes and boulangeries - a remnant of french colonialism (we love the French and their colonial ways!) - where the pastries are perfect replicas of the treats you would find in Paris. My companion is the biggest coffee junkie I have ever met and, for the most part, she enjoyed good coffee, which is largely absent in Bangkok. These places are a great place to people watch as there is something interesting to observe everywhere you look, whether it is an elderly gentleman emerging from his home in his blue pyjamas (complete with pink shaving towel around his neck) to buy some vegies from a street vendor or this:

 

These vendors sell everything from fruit, flowers and food to beer and clothes. They walk the streets selling their goods to the shop owners and tourists. Don't stop for minute to watch them if you are on the street or they'll pounce on you and have their basket on your shoulder and their hat on your head for a photo opportunity before you know it. Then you have to negotiate an acceptable price for their goods whether you want them or not, as happened to us. It makes for a great photo, but their shrewdness left us with a bad taste in our mouths. It is not all cynical tourism though; people do actually dress this way all over the country and wear those hats everywhere.

My trusty travel buddy. Those baskets are actually really heavy.

There are many gorgeous shops in Hanoi too:

Me outside the world famous Ipa Nima handbag store (for some reason called Tina Sparkle). Ipa Nima is a designer handbag store which is like the Mollini of handbags. Each one is beautifully handcrafted with silks, leathers, suedes, beads and tassels - all in gorgeous colours. They retail for between US$200 and US$350 on Amazon.com, but are between US$30 and US$150 in Hanoi, where they are designed and made. Gorgeous!

And now to Communism. The best thing about Hanoi (for us anyway) is the visible Communist influence at every turn.

I love this photo. This is the mausoleum where the beloved Ho Chi Minh rests. We weren't able to get in since it has the most obscure opening hours known to man (I think three hours in the morning three days a week). When we drove past, there was a queue around the corner, mostly of locals, to get in. 

From here, we went to the Ho Chi Minh museum, probably the most bizarrely curated collection I have ever seen:

Some soldiers go to learn more about their history. We were the only farang there.

There was a national assembly election while we were there, so we were treated to campaign material all over the streets.

Uncle Ho says: "Don't forget to vote!" These kinds of signs become more common as you leave Hanoi and enter the countryside. We stumbled upon a street stall selling hundreds of propaganda posters, so we spent about an hour trawling through them to add to our collections.

The old quarter of Hanoi is divided into streets that specialise in a particular things, such as ugly toys, shoes, motorcycles, handbags and, wait for it, headstones. On election day, everyone was out and about in their Sunday best to cast their vote. On tombstone street near our hotel, this lovely gentlemen struck up a conversation with me. I am still not sure why. I was strolling along doing my own thing when he turned around and started speaking to me in French.

He was a gorgeous remnant of colonial times with lovely warm eyes. That should be the opening line of a book! The first thing he asked me was why I was not married (a common question in Asia). Then he wished me luck in finding a nice husband and went on his way. Notice the headstones behind us. They had the most bizarre people on them, including a Brittany Spears headstone (when she was still on top of her career, bless). Maybe they know something we don't about where her life is headed?

It appears that Hanoi is a mecca for adoption. Everywhere we went, we saw foreigners with their brand new Vietnamese acquisition. Having lunch one day, we were in the presence of an adoption party of sorts. There were about six couples all with new Vietnamese babies complete with matching strollers and toys.

There are lots of children out and about in Hanoi. They are all gorgeous and we could not stop taking photos of them.

All the little muffins walk around holding hands or in a line holding onto a piece of string or a piece of each other's clothing. It is so sweet!

Isn't it the cutest thing you ever saw? The older kids are cute too. We stumbled upon an earnest breakdancing circle outside the Ho Chi Minh museum.

And some giggly girls:

A cacophony of noise

Hi again,

I'll have another go at this - blogs can be finicky things, for me anyway. I'm slightly paranoid about this whole blogging thing. My supervisor, whom I like and respect very much, absolutely hates blogs, youtube, MySpace, Wickepedia and anything else that provides a forum for people to express themselves on any topic they wish with reckless abandon. He called the internet 'a cacophony of noise' (an expression I quite like) and argues that people shouldn't be allowed to say whatever they like about nothing in particular, that it is narcissistic and potentially dangerous as people's opinions are often presented as truth or fact. To the last point I argued that anyone with any any critical analysis skills at all can make up their own minds about what is credible or not and that those critical analysis skills should be developed by parents and external sources. This led us into a long debate about education in England and then eventually the virtues of papier mache, tango, breakdancing and the imports/exports trade - all of which my supervisor has tried his hand at in one way or another. The point is now I am self-conscious that I am one of those annoying people he and most people in the office loathe and despise and that I am prattling on about inconsequential things that no-one cares about except me. Of course, I have not told them about this blog and will never do so. I apologise in advance if I appear self-obsessed. I justify this whole exercise in terms of effort expended. It is much easier for me to keep in contact with everyone this way than to compress all my photos and send large emails on hotmail.

To provide a bit of background on my supervisor and his opinions, he was a BBC journalist/documentary maker for a long time and is concerned that the proliferation of Joe Bloggs's (pardon the pun) opinions on the internet marks the demise of the clear distinction between author and audience. He is concerned that people will no longer be able to listen to anybody else because we are being inundated with useless and poorly-crafted opinions at every turn. It is not that I don't accept some of these arguments. For starters, I would never cite Wickepedia as a source (as I recall Senator Nettle once did in the Senate), but I also think all these forums reflect a diverse and sometimes fascinating facet of popular and political culture that can enrich us all. I also think that his opinion underestimates the younger generations, who can be quite savvy and discerning. There is so much to choose from out there on the net. You can dismiss the crap easily enough. Thanks to my good friend (for the purposes of anonymity, we shall henceforth call her 'Goo'), who has a gift for finding the most bizarre and random things on the internet, I have been exposed to some of the most interesting and creative ideas. It could be that I should just read more books though.   

I have been lucky to meet some pretty interesting people with diverse experiences. Even being exposed to the assignments of the other AYADs is a joy. I am not really able to go into much detail about them here but, in general terms, we have someone who is putting out a Muslim publication, and people working for the International Organisation for Migration, WWF and various UN agencies. It is a learning experience to be exposed to the kinds of projects they are all involved in - visiting refugee camps full of Burmese with TB, meeting asylum seekers at the airport and being the first to interview them to assess their case for the UNHCR, Kayaking down the Mekong in remote China on the border with Tibet. It was a world I always new existed, but I am just so happy to be part of it. For so long it was out of reach and now I feel like I am seeing the inner workings of this industry and using and developing the skills I devoted so much time to studying. It is a realm in which I feel entirely comfortable. I am certain that a lot of the reason I am able to feel so at ease is that I have the support of my loved ones and so I have not had to worry about anything but getting this whole thing right. I know how lucky I am in that regard. It is not something I take for granted.

Interestingly, the UN has lost some of its appeal, but I think I am still a bit in awe of it. To compensate for this awe, I tease my friend Avi relentlessly for being part of the UN set. Those kids know how to party and always go to hip and expensive places. There has come to be a customary banter in the group as we speculate which post-modern venue the UN kids will grace of a Friday night. It's all a bit of harmless fun, which somehow culminated in my being given a tiny plastic guitar for my birthday. 

My work has been interesting of late. Aside from the e-bulletin, I have been conducting desktop research on various African countries in the context of evaluating and monitoring their progress in upholding the Stockholm Agenda for Action, which is closely linked to the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. So far, I have been involved in preparing the reports for Uganda, Ethiopia, Kenya and Mauritius and have partaken in the phone interviews with our counterpart NGOs in South Africa and Nigeria. It is all fascinating stuff. Our office is off on a retreat tomorrow and, since I am not permanent staff, I have been given three days off, giving me five days in a row to do something exciting. I have chosen to go to Hanoi with Khun Jac. I will try not to have too much fun as it is something I wanted to do with D in the first instance.

   

 

Random things

And now to tie up some loose ends:

This is my office in the heart of Bangkok, five minutes from MBK. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, MBK is an eight-storey mega mall that people have been known to get lost in, never to emerge again. At least, that is what I imagine they'll say about me when I am never seen again.

This is the scabby office cat, who screams like a banshee day and night for food or whatever. I like cats, but I don't particularly like this one. The poor little thing has had a hard life though. She was always having litters so the office paid for her to be desexed. She gets harassed relentlessly by a tom, who is also very screechy but only slightly larger than her, which makes him only half the size of Australian cats. Incidentally, I read that female prisoners in Lard Yao Prison all keep cats. A lot of Thais don't like cats as they are seen as a pretty low form of life to return as when reincarnated. There is only one thing worse than coming back as a cat and that is as a reptile of sorts that I was never told the name of. 

These are some locals in my building. The chap in the middle is my landlord. My building is not without its dramas. It turns out the maid's 14-year-old daughter has been lured away by a 23-year-old in her village. The maid and her husband moved to Bangkok to earn money and left their daughters with their parents to look after them. The daughter has been led astray and has not been seen for three months. It is a terribly thing, made all the more sad by how frequently this kind of thing happens. Mum, before you freak out, this happened in the maid's home town NOT ON MY STREET. I am not going to be lured away by anyone never to be seen again (except maybe if they are peddling discounted Jim Thompson items). Unfortunately, this daughter fits the profile of a child vulnerable to commercial sexual exploitation.   

The wondrous, spectacular and enchanting Jim Thompson. I spent hours in here deliberating and salivating over my purchases. I nearly had one of those little foot stools you see on the left upholstered in a silk of my choice as a throne for my little Pepina, but I think it is too small for her (not that it is too excessive or anything!).

I just realised that Pepi is googleable now that I have mentioned her here. To google. Let's conjugate that into French, shall we? Je google, tu googles, il/elle google, nous googlons, vous googliez, ils/elles googlent. That was for the benefit of my conjugating editor friends out there. You know who you are. 

AAAARRRGGHHH!!!! Beautiful silk everywhere! It's almost too much to bear. I think I fondled everything in the shop, including the ties. Then I put a pile of things on hold while I legged it to the other side of town to make sure they didn't have the same items at the factory outlet (they didn't, but they had plenty of other nice things), in what amounted to a typical Danielle-style expedition of ridiculous and epic proportions. I can just see my mother's face as she reads this. Don't blame me mum. You created this monster! Did I mention there are five storeys of this?

My computer is no longer being cooperative, so I have to cut this post short and save some random images for next time. Stay tuned for Hello Kitty mania, my friend's ordination into the monastery (ordination is the Thai term for it) and maybe something of substance for a change as I describe what I am actually doing in my job.

Ciao!

Ari

Many of you have been asking me about my place. I have been meaning to write about it for a while, but the days pass so quickly that I haven’t been keeping on top of my correspondence.

Ari is a lovely, quiet (by Bangkok standards anyway), leafy area that is four BTS stops (about seven minutes) from the centre of town.

 

The view from Ari BTS.

 

In the morning, the soi I live on is populated by many

street vendors peddling their breakfast snacks, like grilled toast with condensed milk (three slabs for 5 baht; about 15 cents), fruit and many other things I haven’t been brave enough to try yet. Avi calls it ‘point and giggle food’ because we don’t know what we’re getting and they don’t know how to tell us what we’re getting. Having said that, I do know how to order my favourite papaya salad with sticky rice and barbecued chicken for about $2 (from reputable vendors, of course). I walk down my little soi with a smile every day just taking it all in.

 

Don't worry, mum, I haven't sampled this guy's culinary delights yet!

 

I'm partial to the sashimi at the local Japanese restaurant too. I like to cover the spectrum of high-end and low-end gastronomy!

At the end of the soi is my local motorcycle gang. They spend the day ferrying people 200 metres up and down the soi for 5 baht – another thing I haven’t been brave enough to do yet, but it is only a matter of time. There is also a gorgeous spa three steps from my front door. It is in a wooden Thai house that is a bit lopsided. I had a facial and an hour-and-a-half massage there yesterday for $20, which is actually expensive for Thailand, but it just too convenient!

 

These are some little shops/houses nearby. There is a tiny laundromat and a Chinese shop.

There are countless food places around my soi where we go to get whatever dish the venue makes for about $1.50, including ice tea. Large bottles of beer are about $2. I have frequented the phad Thai house more times than I care to remember.

I wish I could drink beer because life would be so much cheaper and easier. I have tried, but I just can’t. Consequently, there are many times when everyone else is savouring a drink after a long day but, because the venue only serves one dish and one type of beer, I often have to go without. I suppose if that is the worst thing to happen in my life, I am doing well.

 

The view from my room.

 

The night view.

There is a kitsch little boutique hotel nearby called Reflections. Every time I have been there, we have been waited on by catty ladyboys who seem to resent the presence of us girls as we stand between them and our (hetero) male companions (more on ladyboys another time). It is usually pretty funny. The food is good and inexpensive too. It is not the greatest place, but it is a step up from street food and it has air con so I’m happy. It seems to get fantastic write-ups in the travel guides for some reason I don’t quite understand.

We never go hungry here. There are plenty of cafes and takeaways at the shopping complex nearby. Life here is so easy when it comes to food. You can get it at any time of the day or night from anywhere. You could get Maccers delivered at 11.30pm on a Sunday night on a public holiday for less than $5 including the food (yes, I was forced to do this once).  I have just discovered that the international supermarket does fresh sashimi for $3. I have been gorging myself on tuna and salmon.

To make matters worse (or better if you don’t care about your waistline), J has just discovered an online delivery service from any restaurant in town for peanuts.

I should take the time to mention thai service here. Over time, it has become apparent to all that Thais just don’t seem to be able to serve everyone’s food at the same time. I was brought up to wait until everybody is served before you begin eating, but it is just not possible in Thailand. You would be waiting all night. Consequently, we all eat at different times.

A few other observations about Thais:

They meander everywhere at their own leisure. For impatient Westerners, this can be trying at times, as they stop and dawdle in busy thoroughfares, such as the first step off the skytrain when people are behind them waiting to get on or off, and leave their trolleys in the most inconvenient places with reckless abandon.

They don’t observe queues at all.

They take tiny steps and drag their feet everywhere. I hadn’t noticed the tiny steps, as I am a little hoof myself, but my friend J tells me she has to walk on tiptoe and bounce around like she is walking around on hot coals when dismounting the skytrain as the little half steps of the Thais don’t leave her with enough room to take a full step with her larger feet. I imagine this would look very comical.

Some Thais sing brilliantly. All over town at the various bars I have been to, I haven’t failed to notice how versatile some Thais voices are. They love a good cover band, and I have heard nearly every cover version known to man. I am amazed at how a singer can go from doing Rod Stewart one minute (I know you are wondering just what kind of places I am going to!), Eddie Veddar the next to finish off with a bit of Chris Martin. We always have to do a double take to make sure it isn’t a CD. At Hua Hin, we heard an amazing girl do Tina Turner one minute and then Shakira the next quite convincingly. I feel I just have to explain that I am not going out looking for these dodgy covers; they are simply unavoidable.  We have also been subjected to some truly awful vocal straining when one guy attempted Metallica’s ‘Enter Sandman’. At one particular restaurant, we were treated to a passionate rendition of Phantom of the Opera. The singer delicately placed a napkin over his face to add credibility to the performance.

There are usually at least three people and sometimes up to six behind the counter at any given check out. I still haven’t figured out why.

There is a large number of 20-something Thais with braces. We figure either it is culturally unpopular to put braces on children or just that with increased wealth comes the capacity to fix your teeth.

Everything comes in such excessive packaging it is ridiculous. A straw comes wrapped in plastic and in a plastic bag. They look at me like I am a weirdo when I insist on carrying my bottle of water without a plastic bag and plastic-wrapped straw with napkin.

The Thais at my gym don't exercise properly. They don't put any weights on the machines and do one rep in 10 seconds and then move on to the next machine. In addition, about seven trainers walk around and literally push the weights you are using to make the load lighter for you. Everyone seems to think this is normal. I regularly see people using the treadmill holding on to the front with one hand and talking on their phones while walking at a leisurely pace. I suppose they don't have to exercise anyway as they are so slim.

I think that is all for the cultural observations for now. I don't wish to sound patronising or judgmental. These are observations, not judgments. I find Thai culture (or the little I understand of it so far) truly beautiful and, for the most part, gentle and kind.

As I have said before, my building is populated by mostly young Thais, many of whom have been educated in the US and have come back here to work for NGOs. I always see the same people down in the lobby eating something exciting on a Saturday morning. They have shared many an interesting snacky treat with me. My current favourite is crunchy green mango with spicy salsa dip. I have also partial to aloe vera juice.

 

This is what my room likes like. It is not actually my room; it is jac's but my room was too messy to take a photo of today when i am posting this.

 

This is a Thai spirit house in a tree. The Thais believe that old trees like this one contain spirits, so they make offerings to the spirits regularly. The rubbish you see is actually offerings that have been left there, because they never take anything away once it has been placed there.

 

It is a lovely neighbourhood and, when I wake up on Saturday mornings, I am filled with excitement about what the weekend in Bangkok has in store – a spot of shopping, some sort of beauty therapy, a nice meal and something in the evening with the crew. These days I have been attending hip hop dance classes and belly dance classes on Saturdays with a Spanish girl from work and a cute Japanese girl called Yoko, who works as an air hostess, and Thai lessons on Sunday afternoons That’s all for now.

Bollywod nights

What a hilarious night last night. We all went to a club called Koi on Sukhumvit soi 20.

Bangkok is divided into main roads, called thanons, off which sois come. Around the sukhumvit area, each soi is known for different things. From the looks of things, soi 20 is full of chic little watering holes and places to eat.

We started off at a place called Cheap Charlie’s, which is literally a bar on the street full of kitsch and expats. There is a giant fake boob on the counter, a lighter on a rope, many other curiosities, a few stools and not much else. As I write this, I am not quite sure why we were there. Going there made me realise how few farangs I see on a day-to-day basis. Of course there are the ones at work, but you certainly don’t meet many in Ari, where I live. Our building is occupied by young Thais who have been educated in the US and come back here to work for World Vision, the UN and, funnily enough, my work – there are about four people from work who live either in my building or very close by. Anyway, so Cheap Charlie’s is full of young foreigners and some old American men whom you know have been here too long. As the name suggests, the drinks are dirt cheap (around 60 baht for a J.D and coke – about $2). Now I remember why we were there.

Jac, VIrginia (or as I like to call her, Ge-ginia) and Melinda at Cheap Charlie's.

This is the charming signage at Cheap Charlie's. Thankfully, none of us ladies have had to use the toilet here yet. I suspect it is the gutter.

You know you are in a farang area when a mahout (if you can call them that) comes walking by with a baby elephant at 10.30 at night looking for punters to pay to feed and pat the dear little baby elephant. When I saw him, I gasped and had to look away. We have seen a few elephants around Bangkok being traipsed around in search of the tourist dollar, and it breaks my heart. You also see them working on construction sites. I find the whole exercise demeaning for everybody. This particular baby was shy and earnest. Needless to say, I couldn’t take photos to show you as I just found it so sad to see and I didn’t want to encourage his keeper. I actually had a bit of a cry about it because I love elephants so much  - and I hadn’t even had a drink! I know I am a hypocrite though because I bought a stingray briefcase! I guess you pick your causes, and elephants are mine. Someone else can fight for stingrays (aren’t I awful!)

The reason we went to Koi is that there was a bollywood theme night there. It was absolutely incredible to see. There were no bollywood costumes, but hundreds of Sikhs and gorgeous Indian girls going mental to bollywood music. It was fascinating to see the modern take on tradition. Sikhs aren’t allowed to cut their hair at all, so the girls have beautiful long hair and the men tuck their hair under their turbans and plait their beards and twist it around their ears. They team this tradition with oversized baseball jerseys and baggy jeans and all the modern trends.

The venue itself was quite nice, open, well-decorated and sleek. We learnt from some Russians sitting nearby that Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday is models night at this place. It was so fun to watch these people dance to their music. They all knew every word to every song and had intricate courting dances. They are all great dancers and were incredibly friendly and open with us (a little too friendly and open with the blondes in the group). Being the ethnic chameleon that I am, was left to my own devices as everyone just assumed I was Indian – I was certainly as happy to hear bollywood tracks as an Indian). At one point, I found myself in a throng of crazy Thai girls who were going beserk to the music. It was hilarious because we were all the same height and I felt like I felt like I was in a midget dance troupe. It was such a fun night. I was in bollywood heaven with Punjabi MC blaring.

Random Indians at the club couldn't get enough of the blonde AYADs on my right.

Friendly Indians having fun.

It’s been a great weekend in Bangkok actually. Yesterday Anne and I had a

leisurely girlie day shopping, eating delicious and cheap food, shopping some more and then stopping for a manicure and a massage before a gym workout and a night out boogying to Bollywood beats. What more could you ask for? The love of a good man and a pat with the cat, I suppose. Today I am going to the tailor and then I am toying with the idea of a facial at the spa next door before a nice dinner.

Songkran sanuk

From Friday 13 April until the following Tuesday, Thailand grinds to a halt to celebrate Thai new year, or Songkran. Traditionally, Thais brought in the new year by sprinkling a shot glass of water over each other’s hands. Offerings are also made at one’s local temple. Somewhere along the way, the sprinkling of water escalated into a five-day water fight that takes place with equal fervour in the streets all around the country.

Shops close down, people stock up on water, buckets, flour, water pistols and Thai whisky and people line the streets and drive around in pick-up trucks bombarding whatever and whomever they can with water.

Interestingly, though not surprisingly, the death toll on the roads goes up exponentially over Songkran, though it is pretty high at the best of times. Last Songkran, 400 people died and more than 3,000 were injured (most of them motorcyclists). The majority of Bangkok residents leave town for their home villages and the streets take on an eerie atmosphere as they are deserted. Basically, the whole country is on the move. Needless to say, our ICM encouraged us to stay off the roads if possible.

The prospect of letting a five-day weekend go by without exploring more of Thailand was too much for me to bear, so J and I hopped on a train and went to a seaside town called Hua Hin, about three hours out of Bangkok.

A cute little Thai muffin.

Even though we had all been warned about Songkran, you can’t really know what it is all about unless you actually experience it. After dumping all our stuff at our hotel, we glad-bagged all our precious items, got into some old clothes and hit the streets to buy our weapons.

The whole town was out on the streets with their families and supplies. After buying the biggest gun I could manage and a bucket of flour mixed with water, we were ready to go.

Walking down this wide street that seemed to go forever, it felt like I was in a video game, picking people out and just taking them out commando style. Because J is so fair, we were immediately faramg targets everywhere we went, but we gave as good as we got.

I guess on the surface it sounds rough, but the atmosphere was playful and congenial. I can only imagine what kind of crazy warfare was taking place on

Khao San Road

, the tourist strip of

Bangkok

. A few people I know ventured there and described complete and utter chaos.

Songkran police - you will play Songkran!

Mel took this hilarious picture.

J and I decided that something like Songkran could only really work in

Asia

or

Latin America

in this modern world. Having been to many music festivals in

Australia

, I can imagine that, after a day of drinking, one would only have to rub flour on the wrong soused knuckle head or look at someone the wrong way for things to get out of hand.

After traipsing the streets for a while, we stumbled on this character:

Thais have very long and complicated names that average 20 letters in length. As a result, they all have nicknames to make life easier for everyone. For people who speak English, some of these nicknames are a little kooky. For instance, the IT guy at my work is named Three. This character here is nicknamed Moby. We found him dancing in the middle of the street holding up traffic. It turns out he was attached to a lovely Thai family who had set up a street party outside their humble fishing shop.

Before Songkran, my Thai tutor had told me that the best way to ‘play’ Songkran was with families as you would be in safe hands and know that things wouldn’t get out of hand. You can imagine that some teenage boys take things a bit far, throwing ice at people etc. Moby’s family took us under their wing and invited us to stay with them. Boy did they know how to party! The little ones covered in flour were sitting in eskies, the young men danced very earnestly and seriously to awful Thai techno music, blaring from a wall of speakers they had set up on the street. Grandma’s job was to make sure huge slabs of ice were constantly being put into a giant bin to make sure there was an endless supply of water to throw at people.

A little junior frye wields his turtle power.

The teenage girls were the cheekiest of them all. They attacked J and me relentlessly, pouring icy water down my pants and back at every opportunity. There were also jumping into stopped tuk tuks to smear people with flour.

Traffic backed all the way down the main street as people danced in front of busses while their friends jumped onto the busses to shoot people with water. Mum’s job was to keep the freshly cooked food coming and uncle’s job was to make sure those jugs of whisky on ice never ran dry. They operated like a very well-oiled Songkran machine, and J and I were basking in it.  It was a fabulous afternoon.

 

The next day we were pretty spent, so we spent the day lounging by the pool at the Marriott.

My obsession with people’s accounts of their time in

Bangkok

prisons continues, and I read another harrowing tale – this time a British woman who was too dim to know any better. This is all in the lead up to my eventual prison visit.