The first indicator that I have been in Thailand longer than the average tourist, with a map in one hand and a schedule in the other, was that those people started hurriedly passing by me on the street, maps and timetables in hand.
I was that tourist at one point. I creeped up on others and walked closer than usual to pressure them to move faster before dodging between motobikes and parked silaws to gain a few feet on the casual walkers. I was guilty, but I've gotten over it.
I no longer tap my fingers on the table waiting for food to come out. I don't mind if they bring the food out as it's hot, instead of letting it cool down and waiting until all meals ordered are ready. I'm not irritated if getting the bill to me isn't the top priority on their list. I've slowed down. The Thais have made me slow down.
And I think I present myself like this too. Or maybe I've just gained some insight on how Thai business is done. The last two purchases I've made, the Thai buisnessmen (yes, they've both been men), have slashed the price down without any pressure on my part. Maybe it's a courtesy for engaging in conversation and spending more time in their shop than the average passerby. Maybe they can see that I haven't just booked three nights in a guesthouse with the intention of seeing "all the Chiang Mai has to offer". I'm here for more than that, and I think we both know that.
B(ee)
12 December 2009
10 December 2009
My Onesie...
[The following is a piece I wrote for the community newsletter that I thought warranted a blog post. Pictures to follow!]
In one of our lectures, we learned about the religion of consumerism. Our arjan even proposed that this was the most practiced religion in Thailand, second only to Buddhism.
We’d all like to say we’re frugal. We’d all like to say that we’re “conscious buyers”. But when it comes down to it, when you’re walking around the streets of Chiang Mai and you see something that catches your eye, you can’t help but promise yourself you’ll eat street food in favor of expensive pseudo-Italian for the next three days just so you can buy that perfect item.
For me, it was a onesie. Gray, with a slight hue of moss, amethyst, chartreuse, steel, wisteria --- whatever color you’re looking for, really! It was my idea of perfection, manifest in a garment; an elastic tube top with adjustable straps attached to a pair of high-waisted, loose, cotton pants with pockets(!) and elastic bottoms. It was displayed on a mannequin outside a (literal) hole-in-the-wall shop. I saw, I touched, I swooshed, I admired…
I walked away. I didn’t even look at the price tag. I saw the careful attention to detail of the items around the shop; I saw the quality of the fabric used; I saw a man handcrafting a bag in the back. No way would I spent the last of my stipend on a piece of clothing…I needed to eat lunch!
But my mind did not stray from that glorious item of clothing. I yearned like I hadn’t in a long time. “I deserve a treat,” I told myself. “I’ll at least go back and casually glance at the price tag…” So I did. And to my surprised, I saw three digits on the tag, and the first one wasn’t even higher than I could count on one hand! [Keep in mind, we're talking Thai Baht, here.]
But a onesie? My first onesie since I needed snaps around my legs to facilitate diaper changing. I mean, I did get those fleece spaceship footsie pajamas from my roommate’s mom for Christmas last year, but those are for special occasions! This, was no small deal.
As I tried it on in the make-shift changing room which consisted of a sheet pulled between me and the street-end of the alleyway-wide shop, I didn’t need a mirror to know that I would be eating cheaply for the next few days. As I made the transaction (which, like everything in Thailand, was lackadaisical), I was informed that it was the last one in the shop --- the last one in this line --- my last chance, and fate, working her magic.
And as I wore the onesie around town for the rest of the day, I knew I had found something special. One person said I was channeling an elephant, the animal closest to my heart; another was distracted from her advising session because of the awe-someness of me in my new prize; a random man on the street laughed as I walked by and I like to think it was because he was jealous. Me? I felt comfortable and f-a-b-fabulous for the rest of the day.
A word of advice to all shoppers in, and out, of Thailand, if the love you have for something is so strong that you’re willing to ration your food spending for the next few days, go for it! You have until the day you die to make up for uneaten food. It’s not every day that you come across a onesie that will make you feel fabulous for the rest of your life.
Happy in my onesie,
B(ee)
In one of our lectures, we learned about the religion of consumerism. Our arjan even proposed that this was the most practiced religion in Thailand, second only to Buddhism.
We’d all like to say we’re frugal. We’d all like to say that we’re “conscious buyers”. But when it comes down to it, when you’re walking around the streets of Chiang Mai and you see something that catches your eye, you can’t help but promise yourself you’ll eat street food in favor of expensive pseudo-Italian for the next three days just so you can buy that perfect item.
For me, it was a onesie. Gray, with a slight hue of moss, amethyst, chartreuse, steel, wisteria --- whatever color you’re looking for, really! It was my idea of perfection, manifest in a garment; an elastic tube top with adjustable straps attached to a pair of high-waisted, loose, cotton pants with pockets(!) and elastic bottoms. It was displayed on a mannequin outside a (literal) hole-in-the-wall shop. I saw, I touched, I swooshed, I admired…
I walked away. I didn’t even look at the price tag. I saw the careful attention to detail of the items around the shop; I saw the quality of the fabric used; I saw a man handcrafting a bag in the back. No way would I spent the last of my stipend on a piece of clothing…I needed to eat lunch!
But my mind did not stray from that glorious item of clothing. I yearned like I hadn’t in a long time. “I deserve a treat,” I told myself. “I’ll at least go back and casually glance at the price tag…” So I did. And to my surprised, I saw three digits on the tag, and the first one wasn’t even higher than I could count on one hand! [Keep in mind, we're talking Thai Baht, here.]
But a onesie? My first onesie since I needed snaps around my legs to facilitate diaper changing. I mean, I did get those fleece spaceship footsie pajamas from my roommate’s mom for Christmas last year, but those are for special occasions! This, was no small deal.
As I tried it on in the make-shift changing room which consisted of a sheet pulled between me and the street-end of the alleyway-wide shop, I didn’t need a mirror to know that I would be eating cheaply for the next few days. As I made the transaction (which, like everything in Thailand, was lackadaisical), I was informed that it was the last one in the shop --- the last one in this line --- my last chance, and fate, working her magic.
And as I wore the onesie around town for the rest of the day, I knew I had found something special. One person said I was channeling an elephant, the animal closest to my heart; another was distracted from her advising session because of the awe-someness of me in my new prize; a random man on the street laughed as I walked by and I like to think it was because he was jealous. Me? I felt comfortable and f-a-b-fabulous for the rest of the day.
A word of advice to all shoppers in, and out, of Thailand, if the love you have for something is so strong that you’re willing to ration your food spending for the next few days, go for it! You have until the day you die to make up for uneaten food. It’s not every day that you come across a onesie that will make you feel fabulous for the rest of your life.
Happy in my onesie,
B(ee)
06 December 2009
Happy Birthday, King!
...well, belated birthday. By one day.
The King of Thailand is a lucky guy. His birthday celebration is probably the biggest of any living person on Earth. I thought for a second that it was anyone, and then I remembered Jesus. But are we really sure of that date, anyway?
Yesterday, I had a prime seat in front of the guesthouse's lobby television for the King's drive from the hospital where he's been kept the last two months to the Royal Palace. All along the kilometers of street he drove on (which was all completely shut down) were crowded along the edges with giddy Thais in pink shirts. The station reported that "surveys have shown that Thai happiness level has gone UP in the last week in anticipation of the King's birthday!" And I think that survey may have been correct.
I was talking to the owner of my guesthouse, asking her about what was going on in the scene. She kept reminding me (excitedly) that it was "My King's birthday! My King's 82nd birthday!"
The city basically shut down around 4 o'clock yesterday. Most places didn't serve alcohol for the day. Signs around the city advertized the day as not only the King's birthday, but Father's Day.
Lucky for us, a 3-story Starbucks on the corner of a major plaza in the city was open during the candlelight ceremony last night in honor of the King. A huge, 100-foot tall picture of the King towered over a presentation of cultural dances before a selection of Thai national songs were blasted through speakers as attendees passed a flame from one candle to another.
Had there been a translation, I would have gotten more out of it. But if nothing else, I was assured that the Thai people awefully love their King.
Happy (belated) Birthday, King!
B(ee)
The King of Thailand is a lucky guy. His birthday celebration is probably the biggest of any living person on Earth. I thought for a second that it was anyone, and then I remembered Jesus. But are we really sure of that date, anyway?
Yesterday, I had a prime seat in front of the guesthouse's lobby television for the King's drive from the hospital where he's been kept the last two months to the Royal Palace. All along the kilometers of street he drove on (which was all completely shut down) were crowded along the edges with giddy Thais in pink shirts. The station reported that "surveys have shown that Thai happiness level has gone UP in the last week in anticipation of the King's birthday!" And I think that survey may have been correct.
I was talking to the owner of my guesthouse, asking her about what was going on in the scene. She kept reminding me (excitedly) that it was "My King's birthday! My King's 82nd birthday!"
The city basically shut down around 4 o'clock yesterday. Most places didn't serve alcohol for the day. Signs around the city advertized the day as not only the King's birthday, but Father's Day.
Lucky for us, a 3-story Starbucks on the corner of a major plaza in the city was open during the candlelight ceremony last night in honor of the King. A huge, 100-foot tall picture of the King towered over a presentation of cultural dances before a selection of Thai national songs were blasted through speakers as attendees passed a flame from one candle to another.
Had there been a translation, I would have gotten more out of it. But if nothing else, I was assured that the Thai people awefully love their King.
Happy (belated) Birthday, King!
B(ee)
28 November 2009
Sunrise Food Drive...
This morning, 8 of us woke up before the rooster across the street, flagged down a tuk-tuk from across the moat and made out way to Nimenhamen Road. We saw signs all over the city advertising a procession of 10,000 monks, but we knew nothing else.The street was lined, curb to curb, with white canvas tarps with four straight lines of red fabric lining either side of the street. People sat on the tarps with plastic bags, baskets, and laundry hampers overflowing with individually packed, non-perishable food: sealed cups of water, mini cookie waffers, palm-sized packets of rice, and packs of juice boxes.
We entered a fairly empty street; had it not been 5:15 in the morning, I would not have been surprised at the amount of traffic. We sat down along the curb, a bit back from the red tape so as to leave room for those who had come prepared, with alms. As the hours passed, we watched as thousands of laity mingled through the street and sat down on either side of the red lines.
As the sun rose, announcements began pouring over the loud speaker, in Thai and English, and we learned that the alms (food and money) collected from this event would be donated to the monks in Thailand's southern provinces, where oppression of Thailand's religious minorities has forced many to act out in violence.
Not knowing the purpose of this huge event initially, I was intrigued. Essentially, this was a charity event structured around a huge alms offering. As I understood it, the food and money we gave this morning wasn’t even for the monks present. Instead, the alms went from lay hand, to monastic bowl, to large plastic bag, transported later to monks in southern Thailand.
This whole event made me think about the notion of charity and how fundraisers such as this one are a huge reflection of culture. In order to get as much donations as possible, these monks, in efforts to help their fellow, struggling peers, used a daily practice and turned it into a charity event. In America, what would people think if a group of food bank workers advertised a sunrise donation collection on a main city street? Who would have shown up?
Honestly, not me.
Ready for a nap,
B(ee)
20 November 2009
Freedom From Fear...
We're almost halfway done with our time here in Thailand, although I have the pleasure of staying a bit longer and introducing my parents to the wonderful things I've found here. Between a life-changing week with elephants, meditation retreats, and inspiring lectures about peace, religion, and culture, I have found space to breath and feel at home. I haven't felt the pressure of our hectic schedule, despite the huge number of activities.
Love makes time fly. As do comfort, relaxation, health, and general happiness.
We had our last lecture series on Wednesday about Burmese politics and the situation of Burmese refugees in Thailand, which was particularly meaningful to me. Since I first learned about the dire situation in Burma sometime earlier this year, I've felt particularly connected to the country. I've followed the news about Aung San Suu Kyi and the U.S. relations with Burma, from both Western and Burmese perspectives.
A Burmese man who called himself a former student activist in Burma talked to us about the history of post-colonial Burma. He had a brilliant light in his eyes, and when his passion for the issues took over him, he talked faster than I could follow. He was a beacon of the Burmese struggle for democracy. And although he was inspirational, his message made me feel hopeless. We asked if he thought that that National League for Democracy (the party following the legacy of Aung San Suu Kyi while she is under house arrest), had a chance of winning the upcoming 2010 elections. He immediately answered "No" and said that it will take a huge force for any significant change to happen in Burma.
Meanwhile, the ethnic minorities in Burma are being displaced from their homes, forced to flee across landmine-ridden fields in hope of a better life in Thailand. Of those who make it over the border alive, only a lucky few make it further than a refugee camp, where their movement is dictated by the Thai government. Often, people in camps can only legally leave their community during daylight hours, and even then, they have to get permission. They have to live in these conditions for as long as 10 years before the Thai government gives them an ID card which permits them to travel further than their village, but often only within their province. Refugees in camps and in cities risk being sent back to their conflict-stricken country of origin if they are caught at any time without proper identification.
The issue is huge (as so many are), too big for one blog post. And it makes my heart ache just thinking about it.
Aung San Suu Kyi, the head of the democracy movement in Burma who has been under house arrest for 14 of the last 20 years, says in her essay "Freedom from Fear", "The quintessential revolution is that of the spirit, born of an intellectual conviction of the need for change in those mental attitudes and values which shape the course of a nation's development." The Burmese people I have interacted with all have that spirit. They are just like me, like you, like us. They, too, know when they are oppressed and seek a better life for themselves. The bravest among them remain and fight for rights of their people. The spirit is there, burning as big as it's allowed to shine.
Hoping, despite my pessimism,
B(ee)
Love makes time fly. As do comfort, relaxation, health, and general happiness.
We had our last lecture series on Wednesday about Burmese politics and the situation of Burmese refugees in Thailand, which was particularly meaningful to me. Since I first learned about the dire situation in Burma sometime earlier this year, I've felt particularly connected to the country. I've followed the news about Aung San Suu Kyi and the U.S. relations with Burma, from both Western and Burmese perspectives.
A Burmese man who called himself a former student activist in Burma talked to us about the history of post-colonial Burma. He had a brilliant light in his eyes, and when his passion for the issues took over him, he talked faster than I could follow. He was a beacon of the Burmese struggle for democracy. And although he was inspirational, his message made me feel hopeless. We asked if he thought that that National League for Democracy (the party following the legacy of Aung San Suu Kyi while she is under house arrest), had a chance of winning the upcoming 2010 elections. He immediately answered "No" and said that it will take a huge force for any significant change to happen in Burma.
Meanwhile, the ethnic minorities in Burma are being displaced from their homes, forced to flee across landmine-ridden fields in hope of a better life in Thailand. Of those who make it over the border alive, only a lucky few make it further than a refugee camp, where their movement is dictated by the Thai government. Often, people in camps can only legally leave their community during daylight hours, and even then, they have to get permission. They have to live in these conditions for as long as 10 years before the Thai government gives them an ID card which permits them to travel further than their village, but often only within their province. Refugees in camps and in cities risk being sent back to their conflict-stricken country of origin if they are caught at any time without proper identification.
The issue is huge (as so many are), too big for one blog post. And it makes my heart ache just thinking about it.
Aung San Suu Kyi, the head of the democracy movement in Burma who has been under house arrest for 14 of the last 20 years, says in her essay "Freedom from Fear", "The quintessential revolution is that of the spirit, born of an intellectual conviction of the need for change in those mental attitudes and values which shape the course of a nation's development." The Burmese people I have interacted with all have that spirit. They are just like me, like you, like us. They, too, know when they are oppressed and seek a better life for themselves. The bravest among them remain and fight for rights of their people. The spirit is there, burning as big as it's allowed to shine.
Hoping, despite my pessimism,
B(ee)
15 November 2009
My Name is Nam Pheang...
This weekend, we all went on homestays in a small village about 15 km outside of Chiang Mai. A high percentage of the village (and all the ones we interacted with) were Christians and members of the church in their community.
It was funny, seeing what the assumed about us and how that affected our stay there. Mostly --- they're Americans, so they must be Christian, right? They must want to sing songs about our love for Jesus! And they'll probably have songs about their faith to share with us! Great!
This assumption, mixed with a group of liberally-minded, predominately non-practicing students on a comparative religion program which encourages studying about religions other than Christianity produces a lot of awkward silences in which one side does not know how to react and the other does not know why their guests are beings so quiet.
At one point, we were all asked to come up to the front of the church and profess the great things that God had done for us in the past week. After an awkward moment, a friend (whose father is a pastor) stood up and told the congregation the great things that He had done for all of us by leading us to such a welcoming community for the weekend. The rest of us sighed with relief.
Personally, I eased the awkward tension I felt inwardly by singing the words that I knew to the familiar tunes. The frequently sung doxology here is a favorite ("For all that dwell below the skies / Let songs of hope and faith arise ...) and some others have their UU counterparts as well. Replacing "God", "Lord" and "Savior" with "spirit" and the like also eased some inward struggles.
With that said, we had a wonderful weekend surrounded by people with love pouring out of their hearts. I was graciously accepted into a home, cooked for, entertained, and integrated more into Thai culture all in wonderful company. We learned how to plant mushrooms and make northern Thai desserts which consisted of bananas, sticky rice, and beans wrapped in palm leaves then steamed until solid.
I made a Thai father here named Chang ("elephant" in Thai) who nicknamed me Nam Pheang ("honey" in Thai) because I introduced myself as Bee. Yesterday, he showed up to one of our community gatherings with a liter of honey he had bought for us at the market because of the name he had given me. Later, he got us all mango-wood bracelets and gave me a special one with an elephant on it to remember him by. He gave the sermon today (he's an elder in the church) and talked about Lazarus from Bethany. I talked with him after and told him that that was my real name and he was very surprised at the coincidence!
Blessed,
B(ee)
It was funny, seeing what the assumed about us and how that affected our stay there. Mostly --- they're Americans, so they must be Christian, right? They must want to sing songs about our love for Jesus! And they'll probably have songs about their faith to share with us! Great!
This assumption, mixed with a group of liberally-minded, predominately non-practicing students on a comparative religion program which encourages studying about religions other than Christianity produces a lot of awkward silences in which one side does not know how to react and the other does not know why their guests are beings so quiet.
At one point, we were all asked to come up to the front of the church and profess the great things that God had done for us in the past week. After an awkward moment, a friend (whose father is a pastor) stood up and told the congregation the great things that He had done for all of us by leading us to such a welcoming community for the weekend. The rest of us sighed with relief.
Personally, I eased the awkward tension I felt inwardly by singing the words that I knew to the familiar tunes. The frequently sung doxology here is a favorite ("For all that dwell below the skies / Let songs of hope and faith arise ...) and some others have their UU counterparts as well. Replacing "God", "Lord" and "Savior" with "spirit" and the like also eased some inward struggles.
With that said, we had a wonderful weekend surrounded by people with love pouring out of their hearts. I was graciously accepted into a home, cooked for, entertained, and integrated more into Thai culture all in wonderful company. We learned how to plant mushrooms and make northern Thai desserts which consisted of bananas, sticky rice, and beans wrapped in palm leaves then steamed until solid.
I made a Thai father here named Chang ("elephant" in Thai) who nicknamed me Nam Pheang ("honey" in Thai) because I introduced myself as Bee. Yesterday, he showed up to one of our community gatherings with a liter of honey he had bought for us at the market because of the name he had given me. Later, he got us all mango-wood bracelets and gave me a special one with an elephant on it to remember him by. He gave the sermon today (he's an elder in the church) and talked about Lazarus from Bethany. I talked with him after and told him that that was my real name and he was very surprised at the coincidence!
Blessed,
B(ee)
11 November 2009
Thailand, Your Treasures are Endless...
I am still in awe of this place. The smiling faces I wake up to every morning; the beautiful temples that make my eyes glitter; the fabulous food that is sending my stomach in circles. I'm totally in love.
Classes have been great, too! We're doing a program through the Institute of Culture, Religion and Peace through Payap University and the professors teaching us through the program are amazing! The main one is an American-born man who came to Thailand as a Protestant missionary and now, after 40 years in the country, considers himself a Christian Buddhist. He took us around Doi Suthep, a temple on top of one of the biggest mountains to the west of Chiang Mai and basically told us the life story of The Buddha. The temple was one of the reasons I decided I had to come to Chiang Mai in the first place and its beauty did not disappoint.
Yesterday, we had a lecture from an Australian-born man who has also lived in Thailand for 30+ years and started an NGO that focuses on educating Buddhist monks on HIV/AIDS issues so that they can work to halt the spread of the disease in their communities. He was stunning to talk with and a real pleasure to listen to. In the afternoon we visited a clinic that hosts an HIV/AIDS group and heard stories from people living with HIV from the group.
We had a day off today, and I decided to take a Thai massage class with two of my friends here. We were taught by an adorable, tiny Thai woman who owns her own massage place right near our guesthouse. We learned the basics of body, head, and back massage and practiced on each other all day. On top of being completely relaxed, I am now equipped to massage friends and family, assuming I keep practicing for the next few months.
All is well, all is wonderful,
B(ee)
Classes have been great, too! We're doing a program through the Institute of Culture, Religion and Peace through Payap University and the professors teaching us through the program are amazing! The main one is an American-born man who came to Thailand as a Protestant missionary and now, after 40 years in the country, considers himself a Christian Buddhist. He took us around Doi Suthep, a temple on top of one of the biggest mountains to the west of Chiang Mai and basically told us the life story of The Buddha. The temple was one of the reasons I decided I had to come to Chiang Mai in the first place and its beauty did not disappoint.
Yesterday, we had a lecture from an Australian-born man who has also lived in Thailand for 30+ years and started an NGO that focuses on educating Buddhist monks on HIV/AIDS issues so that they can work to halt the spread of the disease in their communities. He was stunning to talk with and a real pleasure to listen to. In the afternoon we visited a clinic that hosts an HIV/AIDS group and heard stories from people living with HIV from the group.
We had a day off today, and I decided to take a Thai massage class with two of my friends here. We were taught by an adorable, tiny Thai woman who owns her own massage place right near our guesthouse. We learned the basics of body, head, and back massage and practiced on each other all day. On top of being completely relaxed, I am now equipped to massage friends and family, assuming I keep practicing for the next few months.
All is well, all is wonderful,
B(ee)
03 November 2009
Lanterns, Dancing In The Sky, Like Fireflies...
For the last week and a half, people in the Chiang Mai area have been geering up for Loi Kraton (the "Lantern Festival"). Every night, more and more lanterns filled the night sky and fireworks were going off from sunset to sunrise. It all culminated tonight in one huge soiree of lantern and firework lighting all across the city. We also bought round bamboo boats decorated with flowers, incense and candles and let them into the river carrying our wishes to the water gods.
When I say lanterns, I don't mean dinky little lights. These things are made out of tissue paper and measure anywhere from 0.5 to 4 meters wide and twice as tall as they are wide. They work kind of like hot air balloons, gathering enough helium from the fire at the bottom to rise up for a while and eventually, inevitably, fall. The first night we were in Chaing Mai, we saw maybe 50 or so throughout the course of the night. Tonight, at any one point, you could look in any direction and see at least 150 without moving your eyes. Accompanied by fireworks or assorted sizes, sounds, and types, the night sky was lit up with all kinds of fire, making the scene almost magical.
If I hadn't already fallen in love with Chaing Mai, this festival would have thrown me into this city's loving arms. The charm of the scene and the atmosphere of the whole night threw me into a dream world that I can still hear happening outside my window. The lanterns rose up into the sky and danced their way along with the wind and created beautiful designs in the sky. The way they danced, it was like fireflies that never stopped lighting up. Magical. Brilliant. Dreamy.
I do have to get up at 6 o'clock to head to a meditation retreat/to teach English in a Burmese refugee camp in Northern Thailand, so we'll see if the charm of the fireworks has worn off any after a night of trying to sleep with the constant booming. But considering the short time I slept last night, getting to and staying asleep tonight should not be a problem.
Charmed,
B(ee)
When I say lanterns, I don't mean dinky little lights. These things are made out of tissue paper and measure anywhere from 0.5 to 4 meters wide and twice as tall as they are wide. They work kind of like hot air balloons, gathering enough helium from the fire at the bottom to rise up for a while and eventually, inevitably, fall. The first night we were in Chaing Mai, we saw maybe 50 or so throughout the course of the night. Tonight, at any one point, you could look in any direction and see at least 150 without moving your eyes. Accompanied by fireworks or assorted sizes, sounds, and types, the night sky was lit up with all kinds of fire, making the scene almost magical.
If I hadn't already fallen in love with Chaing Mai, this festival would have thrown me into this city's loving arms. The charm of the scene and the atmosphere of the whole night threw me into a dream world that I can still hear happening outside my window. The lanterns rose up into the sky and danced their way along with the wind and created beautiful designs in the sky. The way they danced, it was like fireflies that never stopped lighting up. Magical. Brilliant. Dreamy.
I do have to get up at 6 o'clock to head to a meditation retreat/to teach English in a Burmese refugee camp in Northern Thailand, so we'll see if the charm of the fireworks has worn off any after a night of trying to sleep with the constant booming. But considering the short time I slept last night, getting to and staying asleep tonight should not be a problem.
Charmed,
B(ee)
01 November 2009
And Then I Fed An Elephant...!
Someone asked me today to describe my vacation week in one word and I chose "life-changing". And it really has! In the last week, I have worked and relaxed, been revitalized and energized simultaneously.The Elephant Nature Park that a spent my last week at is a truly remarkable place. Their mission is to provide an alternative to the typical experience that tourists have with elephants in Thailand (i.e. trekking, circuses). They had identified major problems with the way working elephants in Thailand are trained to: carry passengers, perform tricks, paint, beg on streets, etc. and are providing an alternative to those methods. They don't force their elephants to work or perform, but instead let tourists interact with the animals on a more personal, physical level.
Here are just a few ways that the foundation is revolutionizing the elephant-tourist industry in Thailand. Instead of beating elephants into submission, they use positive reinforcement (and no sharp implements!) to train their elephants. They only chain the elephants to concrete pillars at night to give their mahouts a well-deserved break from following their elephants around all day. They let tourists feed, bathe, and interact with the elephants a bit instead of making the animals put on a show for the tourists. Yes, there is (as far as I can tell) only one place like this in Thailand.
I saw video footage of the brutality that potential working elephants suffer in their early years, and the only thing keeping me from dissolving completely was looking out the window onto acres of open land with elephants roaming free --- bathing, eating, relaxing in the shade. The contrast made everything so clear. These methods do work, and looking at the success of the relatively young organization, the tourists do appreciate the experience.
The last week has left me with a lot to think about, to say the least. I can't say with any certainty that I'll devote the rest of my life to saving Thai elephants, but at least I have the outlet for that option now.
At peace,
B(ee)
25 October 2009
First Full Day in Chaing Mai...
After being pleasantly woken up by some friend who got into town this morning, I had my first (of three) juice shakes of the day at an adorable little restaurant. I had one of their detox juices (carrot, apple, and celery) and felt pretty great afterwards. We took a walk to the area of town where I'll be staying after my elephant adventure and decided to indulge and get a massage...for 150 baht (approximately 5 USD) an hour.
The massage was at this place that is run by a community of blind men and women. They do all of the logistics of running the place and also all the massages. The man working on me cracked my back harder but less painfully than it ever has before. He also made me aware of parts of my body that I didn't even know were in pain. I was told that it wasn't true Thai massage, but more a hybrid of pressure-point acupuncture and Thai massage. Whatever it was, it was a fabulous hour and my body felt very renewed afterward.
On top of the great massage, it was an incredible experience. When we walked in, they immediately felt our presence and jumped up to help us. As they worked on the three of us, they chatted and laughed. There was another woman in the corner doing intricate beaded sculptures. There were some examples of her work for sale and it was phenomenal work.
After two more juice, much more exploring, and a night market that could have easily made me clear my bank account had I not resisted, I'm off to bed to get some quality sleep before leaving for the elephant park in the morning.
I'm ecstatic, to say the least. I love this place, despite its oddities, which I'll discus later.
B(ee)
The massage was at this place that is run by a community of blind men and women. They do all of the logistics of running the place and also all the massages. The man working on me cracked my back harder but less painfully than it ever has before. He also made me aware of parts of my body that I didn't even know were in pain. I was told that it wasn't true Thai massage, but more a hybrid of pressure-point acupuncture and Thai massage. Whatever it was, it was a fabulous hour and my body felt very renewed afterward.
On top of the great massage, it was an incredible experience. When we walked in, they immediately felt our presence and jumped up to help us. As they worked on the three of us, they chatted and laughed. There was another woman in the corner doing intricate beaded sculptures. There were some examples of her work for sale and it was phenomenal work.
After two more juice, much more exploring, and a night market that could have easily made me clear my bank account had I not resisted, I'm off to bed to get some quality sleep before leaving for the elephant park in the morning.
I'm ecstatic, to say the least. I love this place, despite its oddities, which I'll discus later.
B(ee)
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