I've Moved!

Because I've maxed out this blog's capacity for pictures (a mere 1 GB) I'm moving my blog to:

travelswithkoko.wordpress.com

See you soon,
Koko

Snow Day

It snowed yesterday morning then started again and snowed all night, this wet heavy stuff, about 17-19 inches all together. And after the snow plows came through, it made it worse. I watched two drivers trying to dig themselves out of an intersection. People are having trouble getting to work, no surprise there. Teachers College is closed today and so are the public schools. I'd be enjoying this snow day except I need to see a dentist urgently. I broke a molar. Unfortunately, the clinic doesn't know if/when any dentist will come in today.

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Queue me!

Ceiling reflection of the queue

Leaving Bangkok on Monday morning was a long queue of people lined up for processing through immigration at Suvarnabhumi Airport. I was somewhere in the middle when I looked up and saw our reflection in the mirrored ceiling. At the head of the line, there were 3 officers processing approximately 200 people.  It took more than an hour to shuffle from the end of the queue to stand in front of one of these official functionaries. With nothing better to do, I calculated it took him/her an average of 40 seconds to process one traveler!

When you have a delay at the start of the journey, it creates a ripple down the line. At Narita where I was to change planes, I arrived with less than an hour for boarding the flight to Newark. JAL sent a representative to meet me and expedite me through security. I got to go to the head of the queue. After that, I still had to go to another terminal, get a boarding pass, and find the gate. I made it just as boarding commenced. Nevertheless, the flight arrived in Newark 10 minutes earlier than scheduled. Go figure.

It was sunny but cold when I arrived, then it got dark and cold in a hurry. Nevertheless, I'm glad to be back in New York, all set to work hard(er) on Big D!

Great American Rib Company

You have a hankering for ribs.

But the Red Shirts are at Ratchaprasong. They're blocking to way to Tony Roma's at Paragon. Damn. What to do? We went to the Great American Rib Company on Sukhumvit Soi 36. It met our need for lip-smacking slow cooked pulled pork, spare ribs, fresh brewed iced tea, and grilled tenderloin with horseradish sauce. For sides, fresh potato salad,  cole slaw and of course, curly fries.  The disappointments: the chicken was overdone, the refried beans looked, well, glutinous,  and the cornbread was dry. Otherwise the meal was perfect.We even had room for dessert: chocolate brownie with vanilla bean ice cream. They didn't last long enough to be photographed!

It's a Mutt's Life

Gigi wearing her "hat"

What's the Mutt to do?

Today Andy went to the paak soi (top of the lane) to pick up the vet and bring him to our house. We decided to move up Gigi's annual date with the vet from Songkran, the Thai new year (because that's when we got her 4 years ago) to the New Year. It's a two person job to hold down the Mutt. Though I admire the Dog Whisperer's methods, I haven't got the stamina nor the courage to implement them when it's That Time of Year.

So I slipped the muzzle on Gigi.  Andy and I held her down. The vet jabbed. It was over.  But when he tried to approach her to trim those lady-like toe nails, she screeched right through the muzzle, bloody unlikely, mister! He backed off hastily and that was that. I guess we're going to have to take her out on more walks in our lane as concrete is a wonderful emery board. I'd love to take her to the park but she's deathly afraid of riding in cars, which is why the vet makes house calls now. Soon he'll be much closer than the paak soi. He has just built a house for himself and his new wife at the bottom of our lane in the corner. Andy got the grand tour from him on the way back to the clinic. There's a kitchen with a double oven; the bride likes to bake! Another fellow foodie.

After the vet left with Andy, I fed Gigi the two worm pills he'd given me for her. I did my usual trick and hid them in a dog cookie. Wouldn't you know it, the Mutt chewed the cookie and spat the pills out on the ground. I next tried hiding them in a piece of doggie hotdog. She loves it so much she practically swallows it with hardly any chewing. And that's how she got de-wormed.

We still have a chewed up front door. She's only an inch away from making a hole in it. Every time we have holiday fireworks or a thunderstorm, Gigi the Mutt goes ballistic. Avoidance training didn't work. I bought a $6.00 motion sensor that's supposed to go off whenever the Mutt approaches the door. Well, she figured out that it makes noise but nothing else happens. I've taken to calculating on the calendar when the next thunderstorm or holiday will arrive. We're in the dry season now, so no worries there for another five months. But holidays? Well, Chinese New Year is coming up hard and fast.  All  those noisy fireworks to chase away the spirits and bedevil Gigi the Mutt.

Relaxing in Haad Chao Samran

It is Saturday morning. We drive southwest of Bangkok listening to Eva Cassidy singing "Fields of Gold" as we cross the Kanchanaphisek Bridge. We are heading for Haad Chao Samran, in English, Merry Kings Beach. We stay at Fisherman's Resort, which is under new management, so they have dropped the "Village" from the title. But it is still the same peaceful place where the sun, tides, and wind constantly change the shape of the land and the mood of the sea.

Andy had heard about Khao Luang Cave on television and he realized it is just 5 minutes away on the outskirts of Petchburi town. He asks for directions at the front desk and we make plans to stop there on the way back to Bangkok on Sunday. After breakfast we pack the car and cheerfully set out with a map that's not to scale. We find the place at the foot of a hill at the end of the main drag just over the railroad tracks.

We are greeted by a troop of monkeys in the parking lot. The parking attendant will sell you corn on the cob to feed the monkeys. He will also put a stuffed crocodile toy on top of your car; for an additional fee, of course. He explains that it discourages the monkeys from climbing on your car. It seems to be a very nice sideline business he's got going here. The logic goes something like this. The monkeys' cuteness draws tourists who also feed them. Some people want to feed monkeys but don't have food. Sell the tourists monkey food. Unfortunately, idle hands are the devil's workshop and monkeys who are hungry and also curious have destructive proclivities.  Hence, the Toy Crocodile  Scarecrow idea was born to ward off the evil monkeys who associate people with food.

The stuffed croc works like a charm. It's always better to propitiate any and every spirit, I feel.  I suspect this monkey couldn't care less about our beliefs, croc or no croc. I don't know if this idea works as well as the watchful eye of the parking attendant. No one ever hangs around long enough to find out since everybody goes down into the cave.

In the main cavern is a Buddhist shrine. Sunlight pours through the roof, lighting up the cave. It reminds me of the cave in Ha Long Bay, Vietnam, but its natural beauty was enhanced by artificial light. Here, the natural light pours into the cave, creating a cathedral for the Lord Buddha. Where the cave roof has collapsed, the sun shines through. It's as if a giant's fist had punched this hole in the roof.The happiness in the expression of the reclining Buddha reminds devotees that he has achieved nirvana. The Buddha himself is not a god but a teacher. He was the first to achieve enlightenment and his message was anyone can achieve enlightenment too.

We get back in the car and drive past a pack of hungry monkeys lining the road. They eye us warily, on the lookout for a treat; crass opportunists at a buffet. Unlike his cousins in the wild, Koko is too stuffed to eat anything.  He snoozes.

On the way to Bangkok, we stop at Mahachai (in English Thalay Thai Seafood Market) in Samut Sakhon, a main distribution point for fresh seafood from the Gulf coast. Here, seafood can be cooked to order on the spot. We eat fish in scallion ginger sauce, curried crab, and morning glory (pak boong) with chilies in brown bean sauce.

Going to Haad Chao Samran has been the perfect way to spend our next-to-last weekend in Thailand. I should feel rested and ready for work.  Instead, I feel the reluctance at the end of some vacations, that it will soon be over. I do not want it to end. It will be a long time before we come this way again and I am glad to have these memories.
  

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A New Year in Vietnam

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We decide to go to Vietnam for two reasons, first I need to leave Thailand to renew my visa and second, we have never been to Vietnam before. So we have booked a short three-day tour with Vietnam Vacations that includes Hanoi and Ha Long (see map above).  Vietnam to me, is like Thailand thirty years ago; few Vietnamese speak any English at all. But they are suave and quick to learn world languages. At the Confucian temple we visit on our first day, I hear Vietnamese guides speaking French, English, Japanese, Russian, and Thai.  They are certainly disciplined and ambitious.  It comes from generations of in-grained conformity and solidarity from years of war. Thus the tendency to queue does seem to come naturally, as does crowd control.  The country has a lot of potential. The Vietnamese certainly know what it means to come from behind and win. Don't forget they prevailed over not one but two Western powers, the French and the Americans.

On Thursday, we board an Air Asia flight bound for Hanoi. We sort of mill around the foot of the staircase before we manage to climb on board. Not very organized, I know. We leave Bangkok accompanied by a Thai guide. On arrival in Hanoi we are met by Loong (Uncle) a Thai-speaking Vietnamese guide. He is indefatigable. He can speak for hours about Vietnamese language, history, and customs. I'm afraid he put me to sleep. Note the tri-colored streamers--for the next three days we learn to look out for them.

When we arrive, Hanoi is cool, in the 70s  and overcast, and remains that way for the duration of our visit. Loong says that when you cross a street, just keep going, don't stop and don't look at the oncoming traffic. The traffic will flow around you. It takes nerves and to me, unwarranted trust in drivers and motorcyclists. In Hanoi, a honking horn means, "I'm coming through!"   The Koreans got here ahead of the Japanese. Hyundai, Daewoo, and Kia are popular makes.

Parts of the city are older, with mature trees, narrow streets, and wide cobbled sidewalks that double as parking. The buildings have colonial style shutters. Here, the shop houses are more on a human scale. The neighborhood is quaint and intimate.

 Though we have just arrived, we waste no time in beginning the tour.  We visit this Confucian temple that at one time used to be a great seat of learning. In Vietnamese this is called Van Mieu or Temple of Literature. It was established in 1070. Long or Rong means "dragon" in Vietnamese and just like to the Chinese, the dragon has particular meaning of power, authority, and protection. Thang Long was once a name for Hanoi and it means Soaring Dragon City. On the day before New Year's Eve, the temple is packed with tourists and Vietnamese celebrating the New Year holiday. A woman poses in an ao dai in the temple courtyard. The national costume for Vietnamese women, the ao dai is particularly graceful, a split tunic worn over palazzo pants made of colorful silk.

The Chinese and Vietnamese culture, history, and people have been inextricably linked for centuries. Though Confucianism is, strictly speaking, a philosophy, Confucius himself is deified in this temple.  We do not see nor visit any Vietnamese temples or Christian churches.   Despite Vietnam's French colonial history and the import of Christianity from the West, it is Loong's silence on this topic that to me, was the loudest. In Hanoi we pass what seems to be a girls' school called Institution Sainte Marie with a large statue of the Virgin in front. It is the only religious institution I see. The Vietnamese seminarians once told me the communist government does not encourage religious expression. There are no religious saints in the atheistic state, only a secular one, Ho Chi Minh. On the way to lunch, we drive by the plaza where his mausoleum is located. We will visit it on Saturday, New Year's Day.

After lunch we head out of the city to Ha Long Bay. Scenes of rural life fascinate me. The countryside is as poor or poorer than Thailand in some places. Everywhere there are rice fields between the gaps of the towns. We stop to eat a dinner of indifferent cold seafood at this restaurant and then explore the nearby night market. Coming from Thailand, night markets are no novelty. It is too dark for pictures. We find some exquisitely carved stone boxes that now, in hindsight, I wish we'd bought more. They were unusual for I could not find them anyplace else. Finally we can rest after such a long day from airport to Hanoi to Ha Long Bay. The next morning we discover the Bay is in the hazy distance and we're in the middle of nowhere.  Breakfast is cold. Andy pours the milk in the coffee and it immediately clumps.   

Seeking a bit of local color, we explore the wet market behind  the hotel. The market is bustling with early morning shoppers getting their breakfast. In Ha Long Bay, it is crowded with these double-decker tour boats and these nimble sampans that duck between the big boats. We discover later, en route, they will  come alongside and board the boat to sell fruit and fresh seafood. We are heading out into the Bay which has over 2000 islands made of either schist or limestone.  Ha Long Bay was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1994. An armada of boats heads out to the caves on an island in the Bay.

We disembark and troop through the caves. As we reboard our boat, a crewman hammers down the aft port "fender." Apparently it got hitched on another boat. I do not see how we are going to get away from the crowded dock. But our captain goes ahead anyway. We pass so close to the next boat I can see they are going to eat spring rolls for lunch.  As he is backing out, he scrapes at least two boats and collides with another. There is no damage to the other boat but ours has lost the fender the crewman had hammered down. 

All day, it is cool and hazy, a palate of grays: slate-gray, blue-gray, and green-gray. After we dock we get back into our pink bus and drive 3 hours back into Hanoi--traffic permitting. Back in Hanoi we spend the next thirty to forty-five minutes looking for the Sunny Hotel in Hao Nam Street. It's in a not-very nice neighborhood down a quiet residential street of row houses. The next morning, we have our first hot breakfast.

What do Vietnamese do on New Year's Day? They visit the mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh apparently. That's what we do too.  On entering, we have to surrender our cameras and bags so our guides keep them for us. We also have to go through metal detectors.  All this security is required before viewing "The Vestige" as the remains of Ho Chi Minh are called. We go through single file to view the body and 10 seconds later, we are outside again. Loong says that Ho Chi Minh wished to be cremated on his death. But since many Vietnamese do not know what he looked like, the government preserved his body in a crypt for public viewing.

The presidential palace has only been used on ceremonial occasions. Ho Chi Minh never lived here. The colonial style building used to be the central administration for all of French Indochina. Loong tells us that the only foreigner who was ever invited to stay here was Phra Thep, the Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn. While he was alive, Ho preferred to live in a spartan two room stilt house. One room was an office, the other his bedroom. He used to hold his cabinet meetings in the open air underneath the house.

Ho's gong

Nearby is an artillery shell that Ho used as a gong. Loong says it was typical of Ho's frugality to re-purpose things. To my mind,  it is also a powerful symbolic reminder that Vietnam was at war. More importantly, the gesture showed his people that Ho was not in awe of Western military might.

We decide not to join the group tour of the Ho museum (more propaganda) so we sit outside and wait for them. I become fascinated by the number and variety of uniforms, like this cadet...

 ...a war veteran

 ...and the business suits, the new uniform perhaps,

or a bright blue coat and boots with a bit of bling on the buckles!

On our last full day in Vietnam the food turns out to be pretty good. We eat lunch at Viet Kitchen, 15 Ngo Thi Nham, an old colonial style three story row house. The meal starts with pho and ends with a bean soup, which I don't enjoy because I think beans belong in rice not in a dessert. 

Having only heard the American side of the Vietnam War, I think it will be interesting to hear the Vietnamese side of the American War. But times have changed. After 35 years all that bloodshed has become nothing more than a souvenir. At the war museum, tourists pose among the debris of war, like this Suit standing on the wing of a US Navy jet fighter. The museum itself is a military junkyard of French and American weapons as well as a dusty collection of items in glass cases. The junkyard commemorates the Vietnamese as both victor over and victim of Western aggression.  The fact that the "American" war was originally a civil war is skimmed over. Whatever insight I hope to find is not here.

In the afternoon we go to a performance of the water puppets. The ushers here pack us into every available seat in the theater. I want to take a picture of the musicians. US$1.00 per photo they say. But after the doors close and the performance begins, all the cameras come out. It is mild entertainment for the tourists.  The puppets have limited range of movement and no expression. A disappointment.

We prepare to fly back to Bangkok on Sunday morning. When it comes time to board, a ground hostess groups us into rows and boards the back of the plane first. No cheating is allowed. With a flick of her fingers, she dismisses anyone who tries to board outside his/her turn. This upsets some travelers. What does it matter? After all we are all going to be seated sooner or later, right? But these Vietnamese we have met are conditioned to follow rules. It is a holdover from a more ascetic past when (lack of) discipline can mean life or death. But Vietnam is changing and it is hurrying to catch up with the world. The matter before them now is whether they can hold on to their essential values despite the materialism as well as overcome the tendency to think in simple terms about complex issues.

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