Ko Phi Phi and Maya Beach

Most people say Ko Phi Phi is too touristy. I think they should realize that Thailand is touristy. Its a beautiful place, with beautiful people and a tourism industry to support it. With that said, Ko Phi Phi is a bit ridiculous in some touristy aspects. Upon arrival you walk into a maze of guesthouses, restaurants, internet cafes - all with exorbiant prices - and begin to forget the beautiful view from the boat; pristine green tropical tree filled islands with large patches of limestonesqe rock spotting the hills, followed by blue/green water and white beaches. I made it to the arranged guesthouse where Ricky was staying and found him on the beach a few minutes later. The area was packed with people, but one cannot deny the beauty of long tail boats bobbing up in down in blue water in a bay with irradic tropical rock hills on both sides. Ahhhh, I made it.

We decided to go to Maya beach at 6 am the next day, the most popular tourist destiation located on Ko Phi Lak, the neighbooring island (and national park) made famous by the movie "The Beach". We found a willing longtail wooden boat driver and set sail for the spot. Turning into the cove we saw it and were very pleased. A few people had paid atrotious rates to camp there the night before, but the beach was relatively deserted and very beautiful. Just like in the movie, its a demostration of nature's wisdom with a quiet cove of huge stonehinge like rocks coming out of the sea sitting in blue water and followed by white sand and tropical jungle. We prepared to snorkel to the next little beach over and saw 3 baby reef tipped sharks feeding on a school of small fish. Then, while swimming to the next beach, Ricky and our new english buddy Mike, swam really fast away from me in a heavy panic. I reached the shore in a leasure pace and asked them why they were panting and freaking out. They informed me that a 6 foot reef tipped shark had swam right past me. Oh, damn I missed it! I guess its for the better...

We explored Ko Phi Phi as much as we could, but the island has literally been paved over. It was a ground zero for the tsunami of 2004, made evident by the evacuation route signs everywhere on the island and fresh construction of neverending guest houses. It was particularly pretty and fascinating to view the island from a viewpoint/evacuation route on top of one of the hills and see what destruction the enormous waves caused. Ricky picked up a book of an account of a Italian restaurant owner describing the ordeal and the disaster that destroyed this island was a topic of thought sitting on rocks overlooking the beautiful view of the island.

We headed south to get away from the tourist trap of Ko Phi Phi, towards Ko Lanta, as 2 nights was more than enough to experience what Ko Phi Phi is, and dream about how idyllic it was. Taylor

Bangkok, Dangerous?

Hi. Sorry you missed me, I just had to get away from the internet for a bit, but I am back now... I got to Bangkok after the train ride from Soi Yok and had really bad allergies, so I just went to bed. The next morning, I woke up ready to see a little bit of this enormous city and happen to stumble upon a Bangkok Green Bike, a kiosk with racks of bicycles ready to be ridden. (Is that a word? Ridden? please correct me). Naturally I took the map and decided to take the plunge of Bangkok traffic on a Saturday and ride around town. The program has a designated route described in the little booklet they gave me, touting "bicycle lanes" and "a safe and clean way to see the city". Surely you noticed the sacastic emphasizing quotations. Bicycle lanes means green paths that have more cars parked on them than any bicycle. Safe way to see the city? Ive ridden in Austin traffic (terrible, rude), San Francisco (easy, friendly) streets and Los Angeles nightmares, and the baren bike lanes of Phoenix. Los Angeles could be described as a tame waltz in the park compared to Bangkok's living hell for a cyclist. In fact I only saw 2 other cyclists that day, and I am pretty sure they were not riding bikes to 'save the environment' or for ease of getting around, or by choice. So natually, I found riding around all day to see the jewels of Bangkok on a bike.... awesome! The next day consisted of sneezes, irritated by Bangkoks lovely pollution clouds that I previously rode a bicycle through, a harmful Thai massage, and a smile while leaving for the airport. I had an eirely ironic conversation with the taxi driver about corruption, the resent protests (a rocket propelled grenade had exploded last night near a protest site), the police mafia, and what he thinks of all this. All this on the long drive to Bangkoks main airport. Yeah, that one. The one on the news. The one that got shut down 2 days after I left. Nice timing. I flew to Phuket that night, got in and checked into the seedy hotel they used in the film "The Beach" with 2 nice canadians I had met in the van from the airport. The next day I was on a boat to Ko Phi Phi island to meet up with Ricky and see a bit of the beauty of the South Thailand islands... tepe (oh sorry no photos, I lost my usb cord and broke my usb card reader)

Bamboo School

(Momocat feeding Momocho)

(This is Doc Mai (in Thai), or "flower" in english, Who could abandon something so cute at the hospital?)

Founded 8 years ago by a New Zealand Nurse/Teacher/Everything expat, this place is located 30 kilometers outside of Sai yok in the dense jungle of the Thailand/Burma border. The village is Bong Ti and every building is made from bamboo and maybe even concrete. Tucked in the jungle, a little 3 classroom school and multiple building structures sit where 70 something children, this aforementioned nurse and a rotating cast of volunteers live in a communal compound called Bamboo School. We arrived during dinner time where little fingers were diving into rice and vegetables while a talkative Kiwi showed us around and explained how the school is run by the children who are mostly orphaned or deeply disadvantaged (to Western standards) in some way. The stories of these beautiful Karen (native indigenous group to region) children, and one grandma, are filled with atrocities by the Burmese army, unchecked diseases gone wrong, runaway young mothers and drunken good-for-nothing fathers. You melt with compassion when you hear of the story of John a blind and deaf 2 year old with cerebral palsy whose mother had gonharnnrea when she birthed him and abandoned him do to his deformities. You swallow hard when you meet the two brothers who lost their mother only 3 months ago. You shiver when you hear of stories of rape by desperate, lowlife Burmese soldiers that I cannot even bring myself to type. But you smile when you see a happy, creative and productive environment that allows them to go to school, eat well, live well and live in peace amongst each other.

(Peaceaby, resident grandma - cold in 70 degree temperature)

Our first trip was short, but once I returned to Bangkok to send Karolina away to the airport, I decided I needed to give back on this extraordinary trip of mine and headed to Bong Ti (village of Bamboo School). So now here I am, driving the kids to and from school every day while doing odd tasks ranging from fixing bamboo floors to nailing in tin roofs. One minute I am barreling down a beautiful lakeside road to the hospital with a hepatitis B patient in the back, eating ice cream with 3 pre-schoolers and staring at the road smiling at the jagged karst cliffs of Burma. The next I am watching the sunset and the moon rise over Bong Ti while soothing the twitching baby John while he comes down from tripping out in his deaf and blind little world of confused emotion. I have changed diapers filled of stinky pee, bathed from a bucket, learned a few words of a tribal language that I may never use, I have taught English, I have seen West meet tribal East in ways I have yet to understand, and I have laughed at an abandoned 83 year old grandma’s spurts of “I like you, teacher, I like you”. Bamboo school has its troubles. There has been a bit of a mutiny among the 16+ year old boys while thievery has reared its ugly head. There are even lessons and concepts I don’t agree with. But in reflection of my beautiful short time here, I have loved all of it.

(Momocho, aka "curious george" mopping)

Why? Why care? Why set aside a few days for other people? Because people have done it for me and many readers will do it for me in the future. But leaving that behind, I really love it because it is the realest of the real, life at its bare bones with all the skin, flesh, nerves, muscle and blood pushed aside. It is sad, but it is happy – there is hope, there is love. And love, well that’s all you really need…

(lil' John, just waiting for someone to hang out with)

My stay is done here tomorrow morning where I hope on the 5 hour train to Bangkok and then head south to see more of the sun and sand… but I won’t soon forget my stay at Bamboo School.

(some of the kids hanging off the roof of the truck on the way back from the daily trip to school)

(my ice cream companions)

(Bong Ti Bon school)

Taylor PS- There are many stories I have left out of Bamboo School, for reasons of their graphic nature and just because they are better told than wrote (and I don’t have the time to type them out), feel free to ask me about it when I get back!

(locals, straight chillin in the village, note Karen house in back -all bamboo. Army man even gave me a papaya for free!)

For more information, pictures, Momocat's blog, etc, visit www.bambooschool.org

Fast Forward through Thailand.

(I wrote this one and skipped a lot to catch everyone up to what I was doing at Bamboo School)

Entering Thailand by water was a chore consisting of begging Lao immigration authorities to waive the $10 exit fee and haggling with a cab to take us to Chiang Rai for less than the gross overcharge of $6 a person. We finally arrived in Chiang Rai tired, hungry and disappointed as it seemed as if it was a western strip mall. The only sights to be seen were old men clutching to their new found thai “girlfriends” and many tourists wondering why they were there. After finding no room at 3 different inns, we settled on a cheap room with a fan that resembled a dilapidated soviet bedroom more than a $5 a night suite. Karolina refused to sleep on the actual sheets, and personally, I don’t blame her.

So the next morning we packed up, found the bus to Chiang Mai in hopes that the change from R to M in the name of a city would suit us better. Chiang Mai indeed was much better, especially when we rode around on a rented motorcycle to the hills and checked out an overlooked national park and a tourist saturated golden temple. The nights were spent laughing in a local tavern at the disgusting old men picking up the ladies of the night and the awful but surprisingly welcome attempt at Mexican food.

(temple in Chiang Mai, under construction)

Chiang Mai wasn’t disappointing though. We found an excellent little hippie enclave – a supurb vegetarian restaurant/bookshop where I picked up a 1960s copy of Herman Hesse’s Steppenwolf and then somehow bought a mini laptop (which I am using right now) for super cheap. The ‘netbook’ as they say was purchased minutes before we had to be on the train to almighty Bangkok and we narrowly made it thanks to a supportive tuk-tuk driver and a lot of luck. (We literally ran for the train as it was starting to chug-chug-chug-chug, time mismanagement skills are fun)

(my new mini computer with a much needed beer on the train to Bangkok)

Bangkok got a few minutes of our attention the next day, but was limited to the area around the train station and a desperate search for coffee and something edible that didn’t involve meat with flies or “carcass like” features. Hop on a bus to Kanchaniburi, a medium sized river town that unknown to me was made famous by a movie called “The Bridge over River Kwai”. We stayed for cheap on the river, watched Sex and the City on my laptop (sad, but true) and lit paper lanterns over the river that floated into the sky… beautiful.

All this detour away from Bangkok was to visit Karolina’s friends (I knew one of them from Vietnam/Jungle Beach) who were doing a malaria project for medical school in Sai yok about an hour’s drive outside Kanchaniburi. We reached this place by motorbike, got a tour of the hospital and field malaria clinics by the intriguingly smile less Dr. Su Pat. But then we got a little tour of Bamboo School.

(candle festival in Sai yok)

A Night on the Mekong

The loud, roaring hum of the massive diesel engine in the rear of this long boat has abruptly stopped. And just when I was getting used to the intrusive sound. I know there is no village in sight, so the sudden quietness of the flowing brown Mekong River is a bit startling, especially because the stream sound is now mixed with unhappy shouts in Laotian. I see that we are shifting into the tropical trees jutting out from the shore. Again, this is startling, but not scary or frightening. A night on the Mekong wouldn't be so bad. We have Pringles (apparently a universal food, little did I know), rice, water and the disgusting Swedish salty candy fish that Karolina insists are the best thing to come out of Sweden. I remind myself that our collection of food will not be as good as the Lao/Thai cuisine we have enjoyed the past few days in Luang Prabang. That and the lovely boat toliet I so gracefully utilized earlier, will not be the most fun. WHACK! A stray stressed tree has just taken ain old German lady in the head. She is fine, but a bit startled, so now I hold back my laugh. The crazy gypsy couple chuckles for me as I smile at them. Its nice to know at least some excitement is occurring when the last 12 hours has consisted of ipod, tropical hills that make up both sides of the Mekong, learning Swedish phase by phase, and teaching Spanish - all in the name of killing time. And dodging salty Swedish fish/the Laotian man's nasty feed from behind me. Rugrugrugrugrugrugrugrugrug... ok they are starting to get the engine to turn...oh..... oh... nope. A night on the Mekong it is. I sit on the side of the boat, while everyone scurries about trying to set up makeshift camps on the boat. The captain and his family make their rounds and notify everyone of a free dinner of sticky rice in one hour as they are clearly embarrassed of their engine's sickness. For the most part, everyone stays calm, remembers that they are in Laos and this is expected. Those who booked their hotel in advance as well as paid for the next 12 hour boat tomorrow to the border of Thailand have learned their lesson: Don't book anything in advance.

Karolina and I bought one of the most impressive and large mosquito nets in a market in Luang Prabang, and we build our fort utilizing a base of life jackets as a mattress and a rain coat as sheets. Luxury living at its finest. Dinner is served in the rear of the boat and it is simple but romantic, with the splash of driftwood hitting the boat and candles illuminating the storied wood of the boat's ceiling. Light conversation ensues with our fellow stranded passengers: a 5 minute conversation with the im-going-to-be-rude-to-you-since-your-American girl from Germany, another 2 minute conversation in Vietnamese about the rain in Hanoi, and a hint that the sticky rice has other things in it from Karolina's mouth. The sleep is rough. Driftwood hitting the boat sounds like animals attacking the tarps surrounding the boat and we end up laughing about which animals these are: anacondas? elephants? tigers? pirates? We wake up to a roaring start of an engine just past dawn and head gracefully on our way to switch boats and in a few short 12 hours hit the border of Thailand...

teepee

Aun, my buddist friend.

Buddhism is a fascinating way of life. I have a surface level concept of what the religion is and I really like seeing it in devout practice in Laos and Thailand. Upon visiting a beautiful wat in central Luang Prabang (wat = temple) Karolina and I met a very, very nice, well spoken 20 year old novice named Aun. Aun explained the details of my questions about buddhism, Laos, about being a monk and a novice (many buddist laoian males spend months to years as a novice after high school to decide if they wish to become a monk and to improve their buddist practice). His english was perfect, as he talked with inquisitive foriegners like myself and had a book he studied 2 hours a day, everyday. He invited us to stay for the evening prayer/chant and to come ask him and hang out with him anytime. He really expressed the peaceful, mindfullness and calm of buddhism. He is my buddy. Hopefully he will continue with his practice, if not, he wishes to go into IT. (what? yeah, weird, especially weird when you see monks in computer stores). whoa - video! tp

Arrival in Luang Prabang

Laos airlines will never make it into the top 10 airlines of the world. Actually I wouldn't even call it an airline. Its more of a bus company that had to save up a few years to buy a few propeller airplanes and stick some stickers on the side. Turbulence that wouldn't phase a normal aircraft creates mindful death gasps when the tin can drops 30 feet 10 seconds before landing in the dark. Im on the ground now, and the airplane I am running from becomes the least of my worries as I remember I have have the equivalent of $20 USD in Vietnamese dong and a visa at the airport costs $35 USD in Lao Kip or USD. I stand in line hoping my charm will miraciously change my currency and put a smile on the face of the immigration officer a few steps in front of me. This doesnt happen. Everyone seems tired (its 7pm) from a long day of work and the clap of each light cluster is drawing nearer as the airport is closing. Laos doesnt look good. With me next in line to the disgruntled immigration man, I decide to drop my pride and start asking the few other foriengers for a loan of $35 USD until I reach an ATM. A weary but kind Canadian couple step up to the plate to save my ass, and I learn a lesson in carrying cash when entering little countries. A little tuk tuk takes me into the calm, warm village of Luang Prabang from the airport and right into the center where I easily find Karolina, my Swedish travelmate, enjoying a crepe (a relic hand and hand with the bagette left over from the colonial french) and chatting with a Hong Kong friend met on the tuk tuk into town. She makes me jealous with her stories of Vietnam Airlines jet powered planes and claims of Laos Airlines sub par safety record. We all sigh from leaving the hectic life of Vietnam and Hong Kong and melt into the buddist calm that sits over the city like a dimly lit haze. We are instantly in love with this village. Ohhhh ... Luang Prabang. The next few days pass quickly and slowly at the same time, while Karolina and I take our time relishing in coffee, dining with the sunsets on the Mekong, visiting charming buddist temples, watching the world smile after Obama is elected to office (and my tears of joy and pride at the acceptence speech), bicycle riding to markets, and shopping that requires more of waking up the shop owner to buy something, than young men hoaking worthless items at you (vietnam). We get nothing done. We love ever minute of it.