It is wonderful to be in my new studio.  It is terrible to be in my new studio.  The space is good, with two big windows letting in tons of light.  I have most of my equipment in place…a painting table on wheels, a desk for my computer, a purple easy chair in the corner for pondering and the occasional cat nap… a white utility sink in the corner.  Unfinished paintings lean against the wall begging for my undivided attention.  Rolls of paper, some with old drawings and some completely and nakedly white lay on the floor…waiting.

It always takes a while for the work to “kick in.”  The trick is to arrive at the studio and STAY at the studio no matter how restless or distracted I may be.   You have to establish a schedule and then stick to it.  I Know the pattern of a new space.  I will spend many hours organizing, sorting, thinking, stalling, and likely make some really bad art. There will be the ritual task of looking over my old drawings…hoping for inspiration or the rebirth of an idea long ago set aside.   I know that sooner or later, something will spark my interest and I must be here to welcome it.  The building I am in has many units filled with artists, craftsmen, hobbiests, and others engaging in mysterious enterprises.  Sometimes I hear people talking, coming in and out,... working around me.  I am not alone and that helps.

But right now, I’d rather go to Goodwill and look for a hammer.   I’d rather take Roxy for a walk along the Burke Gilman Trail and get myself a latte.  Talk to someone on the phone.  Go on the internet.  As I unpack my boxes, I find some treasures…like art-related knick knacks people have given me.

From sister Rita

I have a drawer designated for my Mona Lisa collection.  There is the box with the label, “Art Supplies  Amy,” handwritten by my mother and discovered in the cellar of our old house while on a tour given by the new owner.  And where to put the picture of the Pope?  It was painted by my father and presented to me, most ceremoniously, by my mother years after his death.   I’ve always had a little trouble figuring out where to hang his Holiness …such a precious gift yet so odd a subject for this ex-Catholic.

Sorting pencils.  This turns out to be my first task of the day.  I have plastic storage containers of various sizes filled with drawing and writing instruments, all mixed up.  I divide them into four, no five, general categories.  Pens, pencils, drawing pencils, colored pencils, and markers.  The pencil drawer bothers me.  While I can imagine using all the other supplies, what am I going to do with a couple hundred “regular” 2H pencils?  You know the ones I’m talking about…the yellow ones you take tests with.  I think about donating them to my students but then remember that I discourage them from using pencils like that.

Task #2.  Sorting, categorizing, and counting my salsa prints.  While I do this, I think about marketing.

Today I finally began a project I’ve been dreaming about.  I want to draw a life size elephant.  I don’t have any paper big enough so I’m basically going to do a contour drawing on multiple pieces.  I like the idea of using components.  That way I can potentially swap out to a different media…and easily transport the entire piece to another location.  I begin by finding a good reference photo of me and Moon Pat because this will be no generic elephant, but MY elephant...the one I got to know in Chiang Mai.   Judging my height vs. his, I figure he’s about 7 feet tall and 9 feet wide.  This is going to be fun.  I tell my students that drawing is a physical exercise, not just a mental exercise…and working on this scale brings that home.  I have to use a step ladder to reach the top and my entire body to make lines.  The beginning feels good.

But all these stories, wanting impatiently to be written, will have to wait.  With less than two weeks left before we leave Chiang Mai, I don’t want to spend a minute of it thinking in retrospect.  Like a good Buddhist would, I am trying to be in the moment.  Our time here has been all that we dreamed it would be…and a whole lot more.  Over the course of the next week or so, I am going to record the things I have learned as well as capture, with words and images, the people and the places I have come to love.   They are many.

Three days after our return, I had an exhibition of my drawings at a wonderful place called the 2^nd Floor Gallery and Café.  It is the same venue as our salsa events so I had a built-in crowd at the opening.  Art and dancing go well together.   The very next morning, emboldened by our Vietnam motorbike tour, Jim and I rented two scooters and headed out yet again in search of new adventure…only this time not so far from home.  We said one last farewell to our nephew Luke who had “come down from the mountain” to dance with us.  Luke came to Thailand just a few months after we did and like us has been captured by it’s charms.  We will share this with him forever.

So we headed south for the town of Lampang, no reservations needed… just a spirit of adventure.  Riding a motorbike in Thailand is a piece of cake compared to the craziness of Vietnam.   Much of the first day we traveled on the “super highway” which was not quite as scenic as other rides we’d had.  Still, Jim and I have come to enjoy the freedom of life on a motorbike where you can go where you want… when you want, park where you want, and see things at your own pace.   If we saw something interesting…we’d just pull over and check it out.  And there’s no shortage of interesting things in these parts.   The only mishap I encountered was in the form of a large buzzing insect that collided with my face unexpectedly.  I’m sure he was as surprised as I was and three days later I still have a fat red lump on my chin where he stung me .  When we finally arrived in Lampang, we were delighted to see some very  unusual architecture, almost European looking, although Thailand is one of the few countries in Southeast Asia never colonized.  We have yet to do our research and find out how Lampang came to look as it does. 
Our chosen guesthouse was ridiculously charming, situated right on the river and we settled in for a few days.  That first night we were welcomed with the usual Thai generosity when a monk saw us peering through the closed gate of a wat, opened it up for us and proceeded to turn on all the lights so that we could see it in all it’s glory.  It was almost all white and absolutely beautiful.

The next morning, after a good breakfast, we headed out on the bikes to explore.  One of the first places we came upon was..you guessed it, a beautiful wat.  Despite having seen many, many wats in the past six months, I don’t think I will ever grow tired of them.  They all have elements in common but are also completely unique and it’s wonderful to have the knowledge to really compare the art, the monks, and the resident stray dogs who always come out to greet us.  It was very hot (this should go without saying) and we headed for a local street vendor for refreshment.  Wats are great, museums are great, ruins are great,…but it’s the locals that always end up impressing us the most.  Once again, Jim and I were so thankful that we studied Thai because otherwise we would never have had the kinds of encounters we did.  In this case, it was the sweet lady making our ice coffees and the man selling amulets at a table nearby.  Speaking just a few words of Thai will easily kick start a great conversation because Thai people love to talk!  And they want to know everything such as, “where are you going?” (this is a big one), or “how old are you?”  or “where do you come from?”  And they almost never neglect to tell us how good we are at speaking Thai…which we really appreciate all the more because it’s not true.

Onto our next stop…yet another wat, this one higher up in the hills.  At the entrance, we saw what looked like some sort of religious parade and it turned out to be a big funeral being held at the wat.  Jim and I didn’t want to intrude so we walked the grounds where there were other things to see.  A young Thai man approached us and asked if we were thirsty and gave us cold water to drink.  Shortly thereafter, a Thai woman came up and offered us lunch!  She had pad thai and fresh vegetables all prepared which she brought after offering us chairs to sit on.  We were grateful and happy for this unexpected hospitality.  There were a few other Thais sitting around talking and we made some polite conversation while eating.  Then, the woman directed us to look at a casket and display of flowers just a few feet away.  This was her father’s funeral.  Again, we were so glad we understood some Thai as we were able to talk to her as we all knelt down and paid our respects.  We were given sticks of incense to hold between our hands and then place in front of the casket.  How wonderful that this woman welcomed in complete strangers on such an important day.  Jim and I were very touched.

On my list of “things I love” about Thailand is that it is filled with the unexpected.  We came upon a classic example of this as we rode the back roads of Lampang, slightly lost but happily so.  Out in the middle of nowhere was this housing development being built…or maybe I should call it a new little neighborhood being born because that describes it much better.  All the houses were “stand alone,” skinny verticals basically made up of two tiny rooms…one above and one below.  In these parts, uniformity of this kind is a rarity so it wasn’t surprising that the few residents who had already moved in were well on their way to making their little space unique.  Some popped out with a display of awnings and color fast becoming a local grocery store.  Another was already being remodeled with extra windows being cut out.  Yet another had tiles covering the standard stucco in hot pink.  You gotta love it!  My favorite part though, was this whole section which apparently had been abandoned in the middle of the project.  You could see all the stages of the building process as well as mother nature reclaiming both the buildings and the narrow street.

That night we walked to the night market but the evening was cut short by the usual yet unpredictable torrential downpour.  It was kinda fun to watch all the vendors scampering around trying to cover up their wares.  Lampang is famous for it’s horse drawn carriages and we hired one to take us home like good tourists.

A new day and another adventure awaited us.  I suggested we look for a “back” route to Chiang Mai and according to the map, there was one…a longer course but clearly more interesting than the super highway.  Plus, it was new territory, a concept we’d come to love and seek out.   We got on the bikes and headed into mountainous country.  While not exactly lost, for the next several hours we were never completely sure of where we were or if we were in fact heading in the right direction.  Asking a Thai for directions is an interesting exercise in the use of hand gestures but any information obtained in this way is not to be trusted.  Thais don’t use maps or addresses like we do…everything is  “near this” or “close to that” or “far away from something.”  At one point we were deep into the mountains and not sure whether or not we were going to come out on the other side.  In fact the road looked abandoned with trees and shrubs encroaching along the edges and threatening to take over.  We saw no other cars or scooters.  To make things even more interesting, my scooter was too whimpy to take the hills and even with the throttle completely open I climbed at a snails pace, leaning forward in hopes that it would help.  A few times I had to put my feet down to keep my balance I was going so slow.  Every time the road went uphill I prayed I would make it to the top.  At one point, it started to rain and thankfully we came upon a house where we were able to take cover.   We headed straight for the garage which had an overhanging roof.  There was a man there working and he let us know with his friendly smile that it was okay to stay awhile .  He cleared off two “spools” for us to sit on and his little boy came around as well as wife with babe in arms.  Not much was said but we felt completely comfortable waiting out the rain in their company.  When it turned to a drizzle, we decided to brave it only to find my scooter wouldn’t start.  Everyone was out there considering the situation, baby included.  Jimmy finally suggested we turn the bike to point downhill (where I assume it felt more at home) and it started right up.  I’m sure a mechanic would have an explanation for this but I do not.

We pressed on in the direction of the unknown, stopping once again to ask for uncertain directions.  It was clear the road we were traveling  was rarely used but the views were absolutely spectacular.  When we weren’t worried about making it back to civilization before dark or running out of gas…or getting up the next hill in my case, we were having a great time.  By the time we arrived back in familiar territory, we felt as if we had discovered something amazing right in our own backyard.  We’re still not entirely sure what road we were on but we plan to find it again.

The next morning we set out again after exchanging my motorbike for another a little more robust.   We drove off  in a completely different direction and found yet another road with beautiful views and charming towns along the way.  Does this sound like a broken record?  There is one last piece of magic to report.   Riding happily along, we passed a wat that Jim recognized and we turned around and went back.  Jim told me to turn off my engine and “come over here.”  What he showed me was so amazing.  But in order to appreciate this, I have to go back about a year and a half.  Jim and I were in Thailand on our honeymoon and during our time in the Chiang Mai area, we spent an entire day as “mahouts” (pronounced mahoots), each of us taking care of our own elephant. Mine was named Moon Pat and he was a magnificent animal with big white tusks.  We were taught how to check if our elephants were healthy, beat them with shrubbery to get the dirt off them, bathe them (it was like washing a car), ride them , and swim with them at a waterfall.  They say elephants never forget and we bonded with them over the course of one incredible day…one of the best days.  The elephant farm is called Patara and sits high in the mountains on beautiful, fertile jungle land.

When I got off my motorbike, after Jimmy told me to turn off my engine, what I saw was Patara.  I couldn’t believe it.  In our crazy wandering, we had stumbled upon this place so special to us.  It was like a dream.  We walked into the fields, reminiscing on where we first saw the elephants, where we bathed them….which direction they walked carrying us on their enormous backs.   It was nothing short of amazing.  We also remembered a section of the trek where we had to cross the road and folks on motorbikes came by, looking on with delight.  Now we were the ones on the motorbikes and we drove up the road a little and sure enough….there they came.  Our timing was perfect.  The elephants appeared with mahouts on their backs and they crossed the road just in front us.  We also got to see the new baby elephant walking with his mama.

So now that I've finished this last report, I can get back to being in the moment...which is me, right now, typing away at my keyboard.  I look forward to sharing all my stories about Vietnam and Cambodia so look for them to come your way in the next few weeks.  This will probably be my last posting from inside the Kingdom.  The packing has begun, my work on the book is finished for now, and we reside between worlds....relishing every second we have left in this place and looking forward to coming back to the future.

Chiang Mai from my window tonight

I’d been working hard…pushing forward on the book as well as finishing up the drawings for my upcoming exhibition in June.  Time for a break.  Jimmy and I decided to head out of town for a weekend getaway to the town of Chiang Dao…an hour and a half due north.  We rented a couple of scooters from a place just up the street and although it’d been raining on and off almost every day, we decided to take our chances.  I’m getting more and more comfortable riding a scooter but just for extra insurance, I put on my silver necklace that holds a lock of my mom’s hair.  Somehow it makes me feel safer…who would dare to mess with Honey’s daughter?!  Unfortunately, it failed to protect me from Jimmy’s red hot tail pipe and I got a nasty burn on the back of my leg while we were gassing up.  We rode on anyway.  It was my first experience driving in the city of Chiang Mai.  How can I even begin to describe this?  First of all, the lanes mean absolutely nothing.  Cars, tuk tuks, song thaows, bicycles, and of course scooters move forward like this organic mass….a swift flowing river of form weaving in and out, back and forth.  The scooters in particular do not follow the “rules.”  They stream around anything and everything in their way, sometimes on the sidewalk…or in the wrong direction!  I had a death grip on my handlebars but I lived to tell the tale.

Outside the city limits, the traffic mellowed but it started to rain.  It wasn’t too bad…just a light shower, but on a motorbike those harmless little droplets become missiles stinging your face and neck.  We pulled over at a cute little coffee place and waited it out.  Sure enough, by the time we finished our cappuccinos, the sun was out again.  Finding ourselves in new territory, Jim and I had fun pointing out things to look at as we whizzed past on our bikes ..sometimes I was in the lead, sometimes he was.  We stopped at one what that looked particularly interesting.  The  20 or so "demons" guarding the front gate were awesome!  Each one had their own individual personality…my favorite had “mother earth” in his mouth.  Was he eating or rescuing her?  I have no idea.  Very cool.

Up, up into the mountains and we finally arrived at Chiang Dao.  It turned out to be a charming and quiet little village which is exactly what we expected.  Our guest house was called “The Nest,” and all the little bungalows were surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers.

Compared to Chiang Mai, it was very quiet and we looked forward to a restful night.  Laying on the big soft bed, I felt as if I were sleeping inside of a basket.  That night, we had an exceptional dinner served right at The Nest’s restaurant which we could see lit up just across the grounds.

In the morning we got a map from the proprietress as well as some suggestions as to where to go and what to see.  First off…the wat with the five hundred steps!  We figured we should do this one before we got too tired.  Motoring down the sleepy little roads, Jim and I felt happy and relaxed.  Shortly thereafter, we arrived at a charming wat surrounded by wooden huts where all the monks lived.  There were also some amazing outbuildings…one was some sort of Chinese shrine and the other, an assembly hall with a vivid red interior.  It was all so lovely…but where were the five hundred steps?  After a few minutes we realized that we were in the wrong place.  Only in Thailand can you find amazing things no matter which road you choose.

At last we found the steps…guarded by two Nagas with the most amazing Mohawks!

They led us up and up through beautiful jungle and we could see the golden stupa shining above through the trees.  When we arrived at the top, we discovered that the assembly hall was actually built into the side of the mountain.  I couldn’t go in with my bare knees and shoulders but Jimmy checked it out and took some photos.

Next stop:  Chiang Dao Cave.  We weren’t entirely sure what to expect and I for one am not at all comfortable with small enclosed spaces.  No spelunking for this girl.  The area around the entrance was your typical Thai gorgeousness with yet another wat and a fish pond.  After paying our 60 baht, we walked up some concrete steps and felt the cool air emanating from inside the cave.  The spaces turned out to be vast and wide, housing many sculptures and shrines built right into the rock.  When we got further in, there was an additional charge if we wanted a “tour” through the interior…led by a friendly Thai carrying a hissing gas lantern.  Naturally we agreed.  This was great!  We walked through one chamber after the next seeing unearthly rock formations and creepy shadows created by our lantern.  Our  tour guide would occasionally point to some stone configuration and tell us what it looked like…an elephant for example, or a papaya.  Other than that, he spoke very little English but thanks to our Thai language classes we were able to carry on a decent conversation.  He told us that Thais like to “gin kung khao!” meaning “eat the bats!” which were hanging out on the ceilings all around us.  I thought it was a joke, but he insisted it was true.  A few times we had to crawl through some small spaces but thankfully they turned out to be “doorways” rather than tunnels.  We came across shrines inside the cave where locals were praying and saw monks in their orange robes passing by… into and out of our circle of light.

Name that animal!

Back on the road, we searched in vain for a waterfall  and hot spring.  (We actually had no intention of going into a hot spring…I mean, come on!  We’re in Thailand.)  No matter, we were totally enjoying the ride.   Our directions were to take “the beautiful road,” and it lived up to it’s name.  We stumbled upon yet another beautiful road leading up to a national park…and the scenery was breathtaking, the color and light beyond description.  Later on, we tried to take an alternative route back to The Nest  which led us up into the mountains.  We didn’t get too far before realizing we were on our way to Burma.  Not the plan!

Exhausted and happy, we took a dip in the little saltwater swimming pool, played some ping pong in a cabana, and ate another good meal.  Before hitting the sack, we sat outside and watched as heat lightning lit up the sky.

Next up…Vietnam and Cambodia!

According to the books, the rainy season doesn’t start around here until late June…just about the time I will be returning to the states, but you wouldn’t know it by looking out the window.  It’s raining cats and dogs.  I have no complaints, after we arrived here in Thailand it was sunny every single day for two and a half months straight.  The first time I heard thunder I thought it was an airplane.  On that day, the weather changed and it’s been raining regularly ever since.  It’s the best possible kind of rain…a spectacular show of foreboding clouds come over the mountains, followed by dramatic lightning, a torrential downpour, and then it’s gone.  The sun is back within hours.  After years of living in the Pacific Northwest where the idea of “rain” meant months of gray, bone chilling damp…I have finally come to embrace a good drenching.  The locals say this is unusual weather for the hot season… all the more reason to appreciate it.

But you’re probably not expecting to hear about the weather since I’ve named this particular blog:  Kinetic Anatomy!  That’s right, it’s time to get down to business.  After reading my posts thus far, you might have the impression that I am on some sort of extended vacation with exotic experiences lurking around every corner…and that’s absolutely correct!  This adventure in Southeast Asia has been nothing less than amazing and every day has some surprise in store.  It was my hope that this sabbatical would be nothing less than transformative and it certainly has been …in more ways than one.  Putting that aside for the moment, I came to Thailand not only to ride elephants and chat with monks but also to write a book.

Living in a foreign country can be a big distraction from “work,” but  I also find it feeds me as an artist…providing me with daily stimulation and inspiration.  When I initially planned this trip I liked to tell people that being in Thailand had nothing at all to do with the book but it turned out I was dead wrong about that.  Being here has everything to do with the book.  Yes, I could have written it elsewhere, but it would have turned out completely different.   One of the things I’ve learned along the way is that you can’t entirely separate your life from your art…and why would you want to anyway?  The best stuff comes from your direct experience.  Only then is your voice at it’s most authentic.  I write about this in Kinetic Anatomy, which is turning out to be much bigger than I had originally planned.

What is Kinetic Anatomy anyway?  The inspiration for the book came from a drawing class of the same name, a class I developed from scratch to help animation students improve their drawing skills.  It was based on the needs of those students as well as my own artistic pursuits.   The main focus of the class was to develop strategies for creating drawings that depicted living creatures in motion.  So we did a lot of exercises where the model was actually moving through space and the students had to draw them.  We also worked from video which turned out to be an awesome resource for animals and all the stuff a model can't do in the studio..which is plenty!  In the pursuit of mastering the drawing of movement I discovered many other, unexpected benefits in terms of pure and simple pencil control.  The methods used in the class pushed the students to work in ways unfamiliar to them and with new energy.  I had students tell me that after they took the course, they would never go back to the way they worked before.  They became faster, more fluid, more responsive and more confident.  I tried to impress upon them a need for their greater physical involvement in the drawing process.   In short, Kinetic Anatomy is about drawing movement as well as movement in drawing.

student example

Confused at all?  Well you’re just going to have to buy the book because one of the things I’ve decided is that it’s the images that are going to make it good, not the words!  I’ve been giving some thought to all the how-to art books I’ve owned over the years.    Did I learn to draw from them?  I’m sure I must have read the text, but it’s the pictures that stuck with me.  While I don’t want to generalize about artists, I think most of them (I’m going to do it anyway aren’t I?) are visual learners.  We need art!  We need inspiration!  We need a kick in the pants from time to time because….(and here comes another generalization) we are all over the place!  So Kinetic Anatomy is going to be filled to the brim with drawings, inspiration, and pep talks.  The tone is going to be irreverent and quirky…just like me.  What began as a “textbook” for a single class is blossoming into a manifesto on how to work as an artist…with a pencil anyway.  All of the challenges that come up for me  I now consider precious subject matter.

My tools here are extremely simple.  I have a laptop, some rudimentary drawing supplies, and a camera that is absolutely limping to the finish line.  My Nikon Cool Pix has served me well, but it’s on its last legs.  I’ve got a piece of masking tape holding the innards in on one side and the battery door no longer closes without a fight.  For a few days, it wouldn’t work at all after getting doused with water during Song Kran.  I must admit, I was careless because I wanted a new camera but when I thought it had actually failed, I felt terrible.  Then it miraculously came back to life!  It’s a good thing too because I’ve found that most of the new drawings are coming from photographs.  This is very unlike me.  As far as I’m concerned, working from photographs is courting death for an artist…but that’s because most don’t know how to do it well.  Meaning, it shouldn’t LOOK like you did it from a photograph.  There will be extensive lecturing from me on this very topic in the book.  Despite my trepidations about using still photography, I have found it very fruitful to roam about with camera in hand…not stopping in any one place for too long and then working in the quiet of my apartment.  This idea of “roaming about,” and “not stopping” plays into my thinking about Kinetic Anatomy.  In order for me to depict movement, I have to hold still...something I find difficult to do around here.  So the camera helps...and all that I am learning about my own creative process will be in the book.  The good, the bad, and the ugly.

Speaking of which, here are some of the difficulties.  It often gets so hot here that my forearm sticks to whatever I’m working on.  That goes double for my WaCom computer tablet.   It’s not natural for me to work at a desk or in front of a computer.  At times I feel as if I’m going to go crazy if I don’t work in color or on something really, really big where I am required to use my entire body.   I don’t have a scanner so in order for me to send anything out, I have to take a photograph in sub-standard lighting with the aforementioned sickly camera and mess with it in Photoshop.  I consider all of this part of my creative process.  This brings up yet another creative “opportunity” (which is another way of saying obstacle) and that is I am not a graphic designer.  Any illusions I may have had about Kinetic Anatomy being ready for press upon my arrival home has been dashed by this revelation.  I am concentrating on content and that’s work enough!  Putting it all in a pretty package will have to wait for now.

Getting back to the idea that artists need a kick in the pants, I’ve set (and reset) goals for myself.  The first goal is born of necessity as  I have recently been offered an exhibition of the new drawings executed here in Chiang Mai.  I’m so excited about that and it gives me a very immediate reason to produce more work and complete some already started.  I find I am very good at beginning works of art, not as good at “finishing.”  I have my theories about this…Kinetic Anatomy, Chapter 2.  hee hee  In any event, I am working like a demon and taken over the apartment.

My second big goal is also born out of necessity.  I’ve never written a book before…or to put it more succinctly, I’ve never “taught” from a book before.  In the classroom, I get to use my voice and my body.  I see my students doing something wrong and I correct them right then and there.  When the need arises, I do a demonstration.  I play music!  I make my students dance sometimes…all in the pursuit of higher learning.  How do I convey all that in a book?  I think I’m doing alright with it, but how can I know for sure?  So I’ve sent out a call for artistic guinea pigs to read a chapter or two and give me feedback.  This is exciting and a little nerve wracking too.  I’ve expanded my audience to include readers new to drawing so we’ll see how they do with it.  I plan to have the first chapters out by the end of this week.

HOMEWORK!

On paper, the goals for this sabbatical were as follows:  personal development, professional development, and to bring back to the AI community.  The first two are in the bag.  As for the third, we'll just all have to wait a bit longer.

There are exceptions of course, such as the guy who works at my gym…but I haven’t given up on winning him over quite yet.  They call this “The Land of Smiles” and with good reason.  Thai people seem genuinely interested in making you happy.  If they stare at you with suspicion, all it takes is a big smile and they will return the favor.  The men are not macho, the teenagers well mannered, and the small children quiet.   “Jai Yen” is a core concept in the Thai culture and it means to keep a cool heart.  Getting upset or demonstrating strong emotions in public is frowned upon.

Transportation

This requires a blog posting of it’s own.  The short story is that Chiang Mai is a city of scooters. These scooters carry individuals, multiple individuals, babies, young girls riding sidesaddle, boxes, sidecarts, dogs, ironing boards, and plate glass.  The scooter traffic, peppered with tuk tuks, song taos, and other vehicles, buzz around the city in a constant cacophony of engine noise…minus the typical angry honking because that would be very un-Thai.

The Hood

My neighborhood is awesome.  First of all, the building I live in is extremely eclectic with residents from all over the world as well as many Thais.  It is 16 stories of mismatched doors behind which an assortment of apartments can be found…some large , some small, fancy ones and simple ones.  There’s shops on the lobby level, including a kind of mini-mart where Khun Gwan works and is always happy to see us.  On the street in front of our building, there are a few makeshift “businesses,” including a noodle stand and a seamstress who sets up her shop on the sidewalk.

Every morning the delicious aroma of chicken cooking wafts through our bedroom window.  Around the corner is  Khun Dim with her pickup truck full of fresh fruit.  She’s a tiny little woman who speaks pretty good English and loves to tell us all about how to eat things we’ve never seen before…like Tamarind for instance, and fills us in on what is seasonal.  Further down the road you can find a shoe cobbler…again set up on the sidewalk, who resoled a pair of shoes for me and fixed my purse all for 50 baht.  That’s about $1.50.

Elephants

I would take my sisters to ride on an elephant.  Elephants, real and in art, are everywhere in Thailand.  They are both religious icons and domesticated pets.  Being in their company close up is an awesome experience.

Wat Doi Suthep

The list is already long but far from complete.  For example, I haven’t even mentioned FOOD!  I will save that for another day.  As of this writing, one of my sisters rebooked her flight and has come and gone already.  She had the opportunity to experience all of the above...well, except for the prison massage.. Janet...you were missed.   Till next time.

Final destination Laos…the capitol city of Vientiane. One of the first things we noticed when we arrived was how quiet it was compared to Chiang Mai. Considering it is the largest city in the country, there was very little traffic. It felt peaceful and calm. There was French architecture all around us, many good restaurants, and friendly locals. Our first impression was a good one. After checking into our room, we walked around getting the lay of the land. It was very hot, in fact it was the hottest we had yet experienced in Southeast Asia. I quickly bought myself an umbrella which is how many, if not most, of the locals stay in the shade. No matter where we ventured, finding our way back to the hotel turned out to be pretty easy because of a nearby landmark …That Dam Stupa. Stupas are monuments to Buddha…a common sight around these parts, but the name of this one cracked us up. “Dam” actually means black. Check out the “pot hole” in front of Jimmy. Another common sight around these parts. You’d be advised not to walk down the street and try to read a map at the same time.

We visited Patouxay Monument which was built in the late 1950’s. Although it looks similar to the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, it was actually built as a war monument to those who fought in the struggle for independence from France.

It was a very interesting structure with a big park on one side and it was adorned inside and out with many Buddhist images including one of my favorites, the Kinnari… a half-female, half- swan creature. Unexpectedly, there was also a mermaid on one of the ceilings and it made me wonder how wide spread that particular mythology might be.

Afterward, we made a visit to a place called COPE, which stands for Cooperative Orthotic and Prosthetic Enterprise. Without going into too much detail (although I’m tempted to), this place was a real eye opener. During the time of the Vietnam War, the United States also waged a “secret war” against Laos. While there were rules about where (and who) they could bomb in Vietnam, those rules didn’t apply to Laos and they basically bombed the hell out of it with abandon. I don’t know all the numbers, but I learned that Laos holds the record as the most bombed country in the world. What’s even more tragic is that tons (and I mean that literally) of these bombs are still laying around unexploded. Many Laotians, often children, have been killed and maimed by unexpectedly coming upon these weapons. And many actually seek them out, risking their very lives, for the opportunity to sell the scrap metal. There were many interesting displays and a good video about the training and implementation of those attempting to disarm the bombs and protect the innocent.

Installation of a "cluster" bomb

The information was a little startling to me and very sad really, but I was so glad we went. The purpose of COPE is largely to help the victims with prosthetics and rehabilitation and it was good to know that despite the tragic scope of all this, there are people out there who care. If you’re interested in learning more about this, here are two websites you can check out.

http://library.thinkquest.org/trio/TR0110763/secretWar.html

http://www.copelaos.org/

Of course it wouldn’t be a day in Southeast Asia without seeing at least one wat! As night fell, we headed into the main part of town along the Mekong River. We chose an Indian Restaurant with an interesting menu and great outdoor seating. Approaching our table, we noticed something very familiar about the mural over the main entrance. What the heck? When I inquired about it, the owner seemed to think it was Bombay! Hmmmmm. I don’t think so.  But there is an unidentified building right in the middle. Anyone recognize it?  Perhaps we’ll never know.

So that was our big adventure in Laos. We headed for the airport and boarded a prop airplane to fly back to Chiang Mai. We had a great time and were also looking forward to getting “home.” And one final note, Jimmy tried to exchange our unused Kips for Bahts and the woman behind the desk laughed at the very idea. Anybody need a million kips?

On our last night in Luang Prabang, we purchased tickets on a mini-van to take us cross country to a town called Vang Vienne. The tickets cost 140,000 Kips. We had heard through the grapevine that Vang Vienne was a big hangout for the backpacker crowd so we were expecting lots of hippi types smoking pot and lounging around on hammocks next to the river. Very chill….very cheap. Once again, things turned out to be different from what we expected, but I’m getting ahead of myself. First I have to tell you about the five hour trip that took us there.

This part of the Laos journey was very special. Loaded up with an array of international travelers, we headed out across Laos and up into the mountains. The view was spectacular from then on. At first the mountains reminded me of Washington State…majestic and green. Later, they turned into a sharp and craggy landscape right out of Jurassic Park.

Despite being a little tired and sleepy, I simply could not take my eyes off the road and all that was passing by. Around every curve was yet another expanse of emerald green rice paddies or hills of palm trees. Often we drove by small villages where it seemed as if time had stopped. The dwellings were mostly made of bamboo and the families would be outside washing and eating and working….usually in the shade under a tree or in the shadow of a hut.

Little children walked on the side of the road, arm in arm…tiny children, holding hands or one carrying another. Our mini-van drove swiftly past and through the villages, hardly slowing down, sometimes beeping the horn to clear the way. I felt like we were in some sort of metal time capsule, moving through another world virtually unnoticed and inconsequential. There was a man carrying an enormous bundle of sticks on his back. Cows and roosters could be found wandering about. Many of the villagers were on the side of the road beating bundles of brush and drying them out. Jim and I speculated about what they were making. At first we thought it might be for brooms but later decided it was roofing material. We’re still not sure. We passed one villager waving a rat at us…it was hanging from a string and at first I thought he was teasing us, but later I realized he was selling it for food. Just a few minutes later, we saw a woman selling what looked like squirrels in the same way. Some of the villages were bigger and more “progressive.” There were many cinder block houses being built and covered with a kind of stucco. Often they sat right next to a hut….I’m assuming this was a long awaited upgrade. It was an old world and a changing world. How fast the change was happening, I could not tell passing by on the road. I loved driving through the villages. The road was steep and curvy…and no guardrails in sight, but we made it to Vang Vienne without a mishap unless you count those two poor chickens we ran over.

Onward to Vang Vienne. As I said earlier, we had the expectation of an idyllic setting inhabited with a lot of backpackers. Maybe it’s the word “backpacker” that is misleading because I was expecting some sort of hippi chill but when we arrived the scene was anything but. After five hours of passing through exquisite nature and the land that time forgot, we found ourselves at PARTY central. There were packs of young people, mostly college age and European or American, hanging out in the streets and in the open air bars and restaurants. Many of them were half dressed despite a big sign on the street that requested “respecting the locals” by not wearing bathing suits in town. Many also had words painted on their bodies, I’m not sure what that was all about. Vang Vienne has a river running through it and the inner-tubing crowd was sunburned and half drunk. Many of the eating establishments had these “platforms” with cushions and a low table in the center where you could literally eat lying down if you wanted to, or eat and then stretch out and take a nap. Or watch “Friends.” It was the weirdest thing. Here we were in remote Laos, and every other restaurant had several TVs playing nonstop, back to back episodes of Friends. It was either that or The Family Guy. I’m not kidding!

Looking past all that stuff, Vang Vienne was a very charming and beautiful place. We found a guest house right in the heart of town and paid the extra 200bahts (or a zillion kips) for a room with a view overlooking the river. One morning there was a hot air balloon taking off. We ate well and shopped a little…the Laotians easier to haggle with than their Thai counterparts. Getting away from the main drag was a good idea and we walked down side streets taking in the local culture. There was some sort of carnival happening at one of the wats and that was fun to see.

It was wicked hot and on our second day we went to a hotel with a pool and for a small admission fee, had access for the day. That was paradise.

Walking back into the main part of town, we kept seeing young people with injuries…bandages, bruises, slings. Guess that inner-tubing business is risky! (Reminded me of our French friend back in Pak Beng who fell off the balcony.) Oh to be young and foolish again.

The next morning it was time to say goodbye to Vang Vienne. We were picked up at our guest house by an extremely rickety and old bus (written on the side it said, "King of Buses." )which we thought would be taking us to Vientiane…and we didn’t mind at all. To our thinking, whatever happens is part of the adventure although as we wound through town picking up other passengers, we worried about the ones who were going to end up sitting on that piece of wood that served as a back seat. Little did we know, this vehicle was only our transport to the bus station, where a bright and shiny 12 seat mini-van awaited us. The two hour drive into the capitol city was not quite as beautiful as coming over the mountains, but it was still interesting and exciting to be onto our next adventure.

It had been a good two days on the water but now it was time to say goodbye to our slow boat and it’s pilot who Jim called a “man boy” because he was so little. We looked ahead for signs of Luang Prabang. Everything we’d read about the city led us to expect an idyllic old-world Laos, filled with ancient culture and unspoiled nature. I expected things there would be rural, relaxed, and very inexpensive. When at last we pulled into the dock, precious cushions under our arms, there was a steep but short hike up the riverbank into town. What awaited us what not exactly what we expected….something we were going to get used to on this trip.

The French occupied Laos for about a hundred years and left their mark there. The town (I can’t really call it a city) is filled with architecture with an old world French style. The streets were small and lined with charming shops, restaurants and guest houses.

It looked lovely although our first thought was to find lodging as it was already dark. After stopping at a few places we discovered that Luang Prabang was pretty darn expensive compared to what we were used to in Thailand, or even at the first overnight stop in Pak Beng. Starting to feel a little frustrated, we finally found a room that was absolutely beautiful with white wooden furniture, soft lighting, great bathroom, and free bicycles and mini bar!! All this for $25 US. We couldn’t believe our good fortune and we were right not to because as Jim was checking in (and I was drinking a beer from the free mini bar) he discovered that the room was actually $75 US, which is outrageous for this part of the world. We paid for the beer and left, no hard feelings on either side…just some slight embarrassment at the miscommunication. Despite any disappointment in terms of our expectations of a guest house, or a meal, or a town…we have found we can always count on the kindness of the people here. After a short time, we found another room right in the heart of town and after dropping off our bags, we went out in search of a meal.

Whatever else you might say about the French, they know how to eat. In Luang Prabang we found some culinary delights otherwise absent or ridiculously expensive in Thailand. Bread, wine, real butter, and cheese. Not to disparage the food in Thailand…it’s awesome!, but cheese and wine are not on the menu although to tell you the truth I really hadn’t missed them. In any event, we had a fine dinner that first night and the best breakfast the next morning.

Oh…and did I mention the coffee? That’s another thing the French really know how to do. So we ate well. But on that first night, Luang Prabang appeared to be a village all about catering to farangs (foreigners), at least as far as we could see. Everywhere we looked there were travelers from every part of the world, strolling down charming sidewalks, eating pricey food, and generally enjoying themselves in relative comfort. And what’s wrong with that, you might be asking yourself? Nothing really,…except it feels a little like visiting some sort of showroom where only the nice things are visible and for this experience you pay a hefty admission fee. It might be charming, and it might be pleasant, but it’s not exactly a taste of the real world.

Real or not, we slept well and got up the next morning to rent some bicycles to explore the area. Getting outside of the tourist area made a huge difference in how we perceived Luang Prabang and we rode for hours past local neighborhoods and markets, as well as the lush outlying area.

Happily peddling along , our bike tour took us around a peninsula with rivers on both sides, little streets lined with eateries and shops, groups of little school children carrying umbrellas to protect them from the sun, monks in their saffron colored robes, and the usual dogs asleep in the road and on the sidewalk.

We also visited one of the local wats which is always a treat. I found the Laotian versions to be smaller than their Thai counterparts…and have a little bit of a “cartoon” quality in the artwork…a little more color in the architecture and sculpture.

It turned out to be a full and wonderful day with real Luang Prabang revealing herself to us in due time. One of our most memorable experiences was with a small girl named Lattany. We met her outside our guest house where she tried to sell us bracelets from a little basket. People in Laos understand Thai quite well, especially if it’s spoken simply and slowly, which is just how Jim and I speak it. So we were able to have a fine conversation with little Lattany. She was a real spitfire and very smart! Using his ITouch, Jimmy taught her how to key in letters to spell out words such as… puu(crab) and apple. She picked it up very quickly and would move his hand away if he tried to help.

I drew a picture of her and she took it, adding a few more fingers. She drew a portrait of Jimmy and then two of her friends came by and joined in the party. Before we parted ways, I bought a little white woven bracelet from her basket. We had such a sweet time.    Next up:  the road trip from Luang Prabang to Vang Vienne.

Life is Chiang Mai continues to be good and very, very interesting. This is quite the international city and I am surrounded by every imaginable sort of people. We could easily stay here for the entire six months and never run out of new things to do and explore. But how could we resist visiting a few of the other countries that are just next door? First up: the People’s Democratic Republic of Laos!

After doing some research, we decided to book a tour that would take us across the border and up the Mekong River to Luang Prabang, the first major stop on our visit to Laos. It felt like quite a luxury to “get away” from what is already heaven…to visit yet another country, experience more, learn more. We were very excited. With only small backpacks, we waited for a mini-van to pick us up at our apartment. We were advised by everyoneto buy some seat cushions for the two day boat trip where we would be sitting on wooden benches the entire time. This was easier said than done as we put some energy into finding just the right cushions…some were too heavy, some too expensive, too fat…you get the picture. I finally ended up paying a whopping 120 bahts for mine, while Jimmy, thinking like a Thai, held out for a better price. So, with one cushion between us, we drove north to Chiang Rai where we visited Wat Rong Khun…an amazing Buddhist temple made out of all white materials.

Wat Rong Khun

detail of Wat Rong Khun

Someone had earlier described it to us as like a big cake…and she was absolutely right. From afar, it is an amazing sight...but upon closer inspection there is so much more to see in detail.  The art images are simply wild! The wat was so beautiful and at the same time, a place a little tainted by the tourists. We had only half an hour to spend before we were back on the mini-van and on to our first guest house (or as the Thais call it…”get ow”)…in the town of Chiang Kong.

I have come to know a little about “border” towns. They are filled with scams, skeptics, tourists, travelers, and beautiful locals. They are places where many people are only passing through and that defines their character …at least on the surface. Chiang Kong was such a border town.

The mini van left us off in front of our “get ow” which was a nothing fancy, but to us…very interesting. Our room was on the second floor of an old building with a view of the river and Laos on the opposite shore. And it had a western style toilet which is a nice touch. After dropping off our bags, we explored the streets where locals were selling produce, fish, and other goods spread out on the sidewalk. There was some sort of “yardsale” with piles of clothes and I sat right down and started going though it…asking the prices and making small talk with my rudimentary Thai… something I never dreamed I would know how to do. A little girl, maybe seven years old or so, took a liking to me…handing me clothes saying “ow” (want), to which I would respond “may ow” (don’t want) and we would go back and forth playfully. The local women also tossed things in my direction and it felt so great to be able to communicate and feel comfortable in that situation. I ended up buying three garments for less than a dollar. We also discovered there were seat cushions for sale at every store…and for less than half the price I had paid for mine back in Chiang Mai. I hate it when that happens. They were also thicker so when Jim bought his I got one too. Later that night we made some “friends” ….Terry and Sonia, both from the Uk…or Great Britain…or England, depending on their mood (or who they’re talking to, according to Terry… when I asked him about this). Over a few bottles of beer and some whiskey, we had some great conversations about traveling and compared notes. Later, Jim and I did a salsa demonstration on the porch after two young Frenchmen let us hook our Ipod into their sound system. We slept very well that first night.

The next morning, we had a disappointing breakfast but that didn’t dampen our spirits in the least. One of the Frenchmen from the night before,walked by looking all bloody and banged up. Rumor had it that he had fallen from the balcony in a drunken stupor and was discovered unconscious. He looked pretty bad but was still smiling. When it was time to leave, there was the usual confusion about what was happening…lot’s of miscommunication and murmuring amongst the travelers. We were loaded into the back of a pick up for a trip down the road that only took us several minutes afterwhich we were unloaded again only to wait for the rest of the group to catch up. Jim and I are getting more comfortable all the time with uncertainty because things always seem to work out. WE also end up bonding with our fellow travelers even if it’s only for a short time and people seem more than happy to share information and advice. We overheard one girl’s story of how she could not use her ATM card therefore and had no money. I gave her my extra seat cushion.

I have come to realize that you have to go with the flow…especially when you have no idea of what is going to happen. When we got down to the river, we were directed to get on these extremely skinny and somewhat rickety boats. Some of them had crude coverings but the one we were boarding did not. I had a moment of panic thinking this was the boat that we would be traveling on for two days! I was not prepared to spend 15 hours on the Mekong without any sort of protection from the sun. Ready to flee to a covered boat, a fellow traveler informed me that these boats simply took us across the river to Laos…about a five minute crossing. Duh.

After crossing the Mekong, we walked into Huay Xai and to immigration. What ensued was about an hour of total confusion. Our tour “ticket” consisted of a young English girl holding a piece of paper with a hand written list of names on it. Traveling can feel like an act of faith and in this case it was true. Jimmy took our passports and went up to the window along with a horde of equally confused travelers, all sharing bits information and trying to get their visas. The government officials would take your paperwork and then… after some period of time, hold up a passport to the glass and that person (feeling like they just won something) would go up and pay. There was a lot of standing around and sitting around…lots of uncertainty but no feeling of being in a hurry. At last we got through the border security which consisted of two or three guards behind a wooden desk and were once again united with our tour group outside a local grocery store. There, an enthusiastic Laotian tried to talk us out of taking the slow boat…telling us tales of stolen bags, hours of grueling travel, and the possible threat of malaria. He held up a photograph of a lovely bus and suggested we take that instead. For the most part, we all just looked at each other with raised eyebrows and stonewalled the guy. We were later told by one of our fellow travelers that they heard it was yet another scam and the shiny bus in the picture would turn out to be some old rickety thing with chickens in the back. Finally, we made the short trek downhill to the famous slow boat which was an ancient looking wooden vessel. We were completely surprised to find “real “ seats with cushions on them…rather than the wooden planks that had been predicted. The seats looked like they had been hijacked from some other vehicle…like a bus perhaps, and they weren’t bolted to the floor but since this was the slow boat, we figured it didn’t matter a bit! After all the brew ha ha about the seat cushions, we didn’t even need them! We settled in for the first day of our trip up the Mekong.

Boarding the slow boat

It was a lovely and comfortable six hours in the slow boat. The terrain around us was mountainous and green with these really interesting rock formations along the beaches.  It seemed mostly uninhabited, at least from our vantage point. Occasionally we’d see villagers fishing, small kids wandering on the beaches, and seemingly untended livestock on the hillsides. It was very peaceful and cool, a constant breeze blowing as we moved along at a luxuriously relaxed pace. What was the hurry anyway? For the two of us, it was all about the journey. We wanted to see Laos. There was one stop along the way, it wasn’t clear if there was any purpose other than to give the local village kids an opportunity to see us a snack. They came scuttling down the hillside with the agility of billygoats carrying bags of chips, dried squid and soda to offer…half climbing into the boat through the open windows.

Laotian kids selling snacks!

Aside from the crazy guy in Huay Xai who tried to talk us out of taking the slow boat, this was our first real taste of a Laotion sales pitch …and it turned out to the norm from then on. No pressure, very relaxed and easy.

Our overnight stop was in a village called Pak Beng. We were on our own to find a guest house and there was pack of representatives awaiting us as we disembarked the vessel, holding up signs and photographs. Jim and I passed on by and headed into the small town, wanting to check things out. It was a really charming place, despite being a major tourist way-station. The one main street curved around revealing little restaurants, food vendors, general stores, lazy dogs, and of course the “get ows.”

We were lured into one right off the bat and it turned out to be both cheap and clean…a very good combination. As was often the case, we were presented with a roll of toilet paper upon check in. That evening, we ate at an Indian restaurant…it turned out there were two in the village, and had a good time trying to imagine what brought the proprietor to this remote part of the world.

general store in Pak Beng

Day two on the Mekong. There were two boats to be boarded, neither one the same as the one we rode in yesterday. They were moored side by side so that you could step from one to the other which we did several times looking for a place to sit. The first boat seemed pretty full, the second boat was also crowded and had the dreaded wooden seats we’d heard so much about. After a little confusion and hesitation, we sat on the floor up front, just behind the pilot. This turned out to be the best decision we could have made. Not only did we have a great view of everything, there was also room to stretch out and move around. Someone thoughtfully brought us extra cushions so we had some to put under us and behind our backs. The day was gorgeous and we set off, spirits soaring. This second leg of the trip was nine hours long so you really have some time. Jim and I studied our Thai, took lots of pictures, and really got to relax. At some point I had the revelation that I had a boatload of subjects to draw who were going to be captive for some time. I had a great time sketching…and gave away two of the drawings, one to an old Laotian woman and one to the pilot.

Later that day as we were getting close to Luang Prabang, the boat made a special stop to let the old woman off and they left her alone on the beach with five or six really heavy sacks. I was trying to imagine what she would do next and much to my surprise she walked a little way down the beach and started trying to launch another smaller boat. Clearly confident in her situation, she got smaller and smaller as we motored away.

Next stop:   Luang Prabang.

The “vacation” is officially over. It continues to dawn on us that we’re actually living in Thailand and not just on a visit. I suppose it’s relative and to some people six months might seem temporary. But to us, the time we have feels long and substantial.   And the reality is that our suitcases are unpacked, we’re in a real apartment, there are monthly bills to be paid, and work to do. Over the past week, Jim and I have fallen into a routine of sorts…but one that is anything but boring or taken for granted. Although there is a pattern, not a minute goes by that we don’t feel like pinching ourselves to see if this is real. It’s so exciting and different to be here and it suits us very well. Life is good.

Our apartment on Huay Keuw Road

Each morning…without fail, the weather is utterly gorgeous. From our bedroom window, which overlooks the street seven floors below, we awake and see the local street vendors have already set up for the day and are busy cooking  chickens, vegetables, dumplings, and other culinary delights.

street vendors from above

The view straight ahead reveals the mountains surrounding Chiang Mai and city buildings just below.

the view from our bedroom/living room window

The temperature in the apartment is cool and we make coffee, check email, and get ready for school. At 9:30 or so, we head out to catch a “song taow,” which is Chiang Mai’s version of public transportation. Different from taxis or tuk tuks, which take you wherever you want to go (for a price), the song taow’s route is left up to the discretion of the driver. They are all pickup trucks with a low roof covering the back and two long benches underneath. “Song” means two and “taow” means plank. Two planks. After you flag one down, you ask if they’re going where you want to go and they say yes or no. If the answer is yes, you then have to agree upon a price. A little daunting at first, now we’re pros.

Song Taow

After getting dropped off at the Thapae Gate of the old city, we walk just a little way to the AUA language school. Most of the time we see one of our fellow students before we get there, having coffee at an outdoor cafe or crossing the street heading to class. We greet each other with a big “Sawatkee ka or krup!”(depending on whether it’s a man or a woman speaking). Over the past 12 classes, we’ve really gotten to know each other…and it’s great. My Jim is one of the best, if not THE best, in the class….with Ali, a college age young woman, in close second. Struggling heroically are Jack and Mary, an older missionary couple from Texas. In between are David (just out of the military), Mike (retired and living “forever” in Thailand), Oreo (a Frenchman), Maggie (an American from Pittsburg), Gary (another American, a little hard to read), Jam Woo (a very sweet and shy Korean man), and Paul from Liverpool who speaks Thai with a cockney accent. Then there’s me, of course. I’m having a blast learning Thai and it doesn’t seem like work at all. It also connects me to the culture and the people here and that’s a very good thing. It’s possible to isolate yourself,… hang out with other farangs, go to English speaking shops, eat at American style restaurants…but Jim and I really don’t want to go that route. We share a similar sensibility in that we want to embrace all this place has to offer. We appreciate the familiar, but also welcome the unfamiliar.

Aajaan Boonmark, our teacher

After class, Jim and I usually walk home to the apartment… taking a slightlydifferent route than the day before. By 12:15, it’s beautifully hot and we walk on the shady side of the street. Often we stop for lunch (Kuaythiaw….noodle soup) or to do a little shopping. Yesterday in class, we learned all about different kinds of noodles and meat you can order and we had the opportunity to act upon that lesson. Very fun. After we get home, I work on my book and Jim studies more Thai language. He’s taking a second class from a tutor who is teaching him to read. I have a corner of the apartment which is mine, a desk and two cream colored walls just calling out to be plastered with drawings. I’ve made a small dent in that pursuit. I work between art and writing. The day passes quickly.

When night falls, we head out for dinner. I cannot overstate the concept that eating in Thailand is a major celebration. More than once I have walked into a clothing shop and found a family sitting down to eat a meal together right in the middle of the racks… getting up to show me where to try on that little dress I picked out. After sundown, hoardes of people come out on the street and sidewalks to sit at tables and chairs, eating and drinking together. The nights are so alive, it is with some reluctance that we go to sleep.

One definition of routine is “a customary or regular course of procedure.” That hardly describes a day in Chiang Mai. I cannot begin to catalog the surprising things I encounter every day, if not every five minutes, around here. Outside my apartment building on the sidewalk, there is a seamstress wearing a medical face mask, who works from dawn till dusk sewing on a pedal operated sewing machine. The other day I got a massage at a massage parlor where all the practitioners are blind. We met a woman from Ireland, most recently living in San Francisco, who is setting us up to teach Salsa at a small club in the old city….run by a Thai/American painter from New England. Chiang Mai is the essence of mixed media….and every day is a new discovery.

Final note: This morning Jim and I got up and went to the “expat’s club” which one of our classmates told us about. They meet once a month and put on presentations of interest as well as sponsor smaller group activities like the badminton club. As usual we jumped into a song tao and drove through the city streets, eyes wide open as every corner has something new and interesting to see. The meeting was held in a very posh and expensive hotel…The Shangrila. After weeks of trying to live more like locals, it was strange to walk into such a fancy place….it was the first time I’d seen paper towels in a bathroom since I got to Thailand. (It actually makes me think of my mom because she instructed me once, in a no-paper towel situation, to make the best of it by using my wet finger to fluff up my hairdo.) The members of the expats club were just as I expected….99% farangs, mostly retirement age, all speaking English. The coffee was served in white china with little a little chocolate pastry on the side. Very lovely, although it seemed like another world. The presentation today was called, “What’s What in a Wat,” and we learned all sorts of interesting things about…you guessed it.... wats!   Chiang Mai is called “the city of wats,” and it has around 350 just in the old city alone. They are fascinating and beautiful…and now we know a lot more about the structures themselves and the monks that inhabit them.

Wat Doi Suthep

There was a slide show and lecture, followed by a raffle and announcements about various happenings in the area. One of these was about a fashion show called “leather and lace,” a fundraiser for children featuring fetish clothing. Even in the elegant environment of the Shangrila, this didn’t seem at all out of place. Then we discovered that the woman involved was actually someone Jim had been communicating with on the topic of salsa. Before we knew it, she asked us if we would perform at the fashion show. And naturally, we said yes! After that it was lunch with June and two of her friends and then off to the leather and lace shop for a fitting. No one was expecting Jimmy so they didn’t have any men’s wear but I ended up with a super tight black leather dress and red leather gloves that go all the way up to my shoulders. Jim will get his chance later this week when one of the designers is planning to bring him some leather pants and a vest.

checking out the matrix jackets at the leather shop

I'm not sure if today's events qualify as  “semi-normal,” but the fact that our morning began with a lecture and ended up with leather didn’t really surprise us. After only two weeks, we have embraced the unexpected and are more than willing to take the ride.