MY PLACE FROM SPACE

THE LIZARD FILES

As promised, piccies of the Loch Ness monster.

GOOGLE EARTH

I discovered the fun of Google Earth last week – apparently well behind a lot of other people. (For those still behind the curve, it’s an internet program compiling satellite imagery of the Earth that you can zoom in on – it cars so far that you can see cars). (Page: http://earth.google.com/)

Here’s what I discovered from a few searches:

Guantanamo Bay: Is too blurry to see anything
Nth Korea: Is crystal clear
CIA Black Site Prisons: zooms in on Kansas – just what is going on in that state?
Mt Martha: Apparently my parents live under a tree
Ely, Cardiff: There’s a parked in the driveway of my grandparents' place on the day the pictures were taken. My grandparents don’t have a car, so one of my uncles must have been around for a cup of tea at the time.

Anyone who wants to find my new place it’s a white, horseshoe shaped complex at:
Latitude: 13°45'19.50"N
Longitude: 100°32'11.88"E

FRIENDS' PLACES FOUND: 5
HOURS SPENT AT WORK NOT DOING WORK: Don’t tell the boss

DRINK DON'T DRIVE

I think they should have had someone with better English skills design this banner to hang from Bangkok’s highest tower, as I don’t think it says what they wanted it to. Either that, or they're trying to solve Bangkok’s traffic problems.

PS - yes buildings do run horizontally in Thailand. Stupid computers not doing what I tell them.

JAMES IS A WANKER….JAMES IS A WANKER...

This week I’ve managed to penetrate into the heart of British interests in Siam, and top end of Bangkok Town.

Last Wednesday cricket training took me to the British Club, established in 1910 as a refuge for the tired British mercantile gentry to escape the locals, drink gin and tonics and pretend they’re in England - that is if England had warm weather and palm trees. It even goes so far as to have little Union Jacks flying around the cricket nets.

Friday night took me to the British Embassy Residence for a poker night. Complete with imported stout, Famous Grouse, and many other typically British produce not available regularly in Thailand and imported for the ambassador and his ambassadorial business. Pictures of the Queen abounded, and I was ever so tempted to steal a teaspoon with the Royal Crest on it. That must be the convict coming out in me (thanks Gramps – ye of the Australian blood). I figured that many other guests to the mansion must have made off with some before, so if it's good enough for ambassadors, it's good enough for me.

Finally on Monday I headed to the Royal Bangkok Sports Club - Polo Grounds, the most exclusive social club in town, to play cricket. The cricket ground was like a bowling green, and surrounded by the horse run so every now and then someone trotted past us - note the warning sign above. There was a full scoreboard (the first time I’ve seen my runs tick over).

The whole facility contained swimming pools, tennis courts, horse stables, and restaurants. Surrounding it is a poor part of town, you have to drive down a typically ramshackle Soi to get there, and overlooking the ground are some slum flats complete with washing hanging on the line. But in that little oasis “you don’t have to worry about those sort of people.”

Somehow without trying I’d ended up walking through the key traditional halls of the scared expat community, those that try to avoid the locals and to turn this new country into the old, and amongst the wealthiest people in Thailand. I’m not quite sure how it happened. The little bit of luxury was nice, but so was going out for Thai food at a street restaurant after leaving training at the British Club.

COUNTS AGAINST JAMES CLAIMING HE’S NOT BECOMING AN UPPERCLASS WANKER: 3 (This Week)

PS – the cricket teams are banned from using the restaurant at the Polo Club. Apparently the members (rich foreigners and richer Thai’s) didn’t like sharing their meals with predominantly South Asian cricketers.

GETTING TO MY NEW PLACE

Piccie 1: From Phaya Thai BTS (skytrain) station head down the stairs and turn right down quiet Soi Kolit. If possible, hold your breath to avoid the smog trapped by the skytrain emanating from the very busy Thanon (Road) Phaya Thai. (It's not this dark - I'm just a poor photographer)



Piccie 2: Head nearly all the way down Soi Kolit. Phaya Thai Court is on the right. Definitely hold you breath as you pass the very smelly bins (beginning of the alley, on the left). (Again, not this dark)



Piccie 3: Go past the pool and on the left, ground level, next to the carport is my apartment. The roof of the carport is covered in grass and potplants, and hence appears all green in this piccie.



Piccies 4 & 5: My living room. The bedroom’s the same size, but is too stark to have its picture taken at the moment.

MASS GRAVES, EMERGENCY MORGES & DISTRESSED RELATIVES

I went to a speech today by a prominent Thai forensic scientist who was heavily active in dealing with the mass fatalities after the tsunami. She talked about dealing with all the bodies, relatives, identification problems and dealing with the political issues. The focus was on the need to properly identify the bodies versus the desire to give them back to the families as quickly as possible, and the difficulties that this causes politically, and particularly when there’s a lack of protocols established. She showed some really gruesome pictures, and the school kids in the audience didn’t even freak out.

She spoke for 1.5 hours, and then concluded that “I can do my work because of Buddhism and the King”. She was later asked how she could keep going for a month straight without a break, and responded that “Buddhism keeps me going. I know that I am doing something good. I look after the dead, and the spirits shine on me a look after me.”

To have a medical doctor profess completely sincerely a belief in religion and the spiritual world was not something I’d encountered before.

It is easy to scoff, and discount what she said, but I found that I didn’t do that. There would have been no value in doing so. Just because I don’t believe in that doesn’t mean anything to near, and to disregard her beliefs doesn’t help me to understand anything. By accepting it I can gain an insight into something important to her. It’s a lesson learnt that I’ll keep and apply while I continue to live in a non-secular country.

LIVES LIVED: Who knows, but here’s hoping I come back as a dog in the next one – sleeping, eating, chasing tennis balls, sex, no work – sound great!

TOO MUCH GROG

Tonight was dinner with a group of friends at a nice (for a change) restaurant in Bangkok. We talked and talked, had risotto, drank a few beers and left the restaurant. It was only 11pm, so a friend and I went for a quiet nightcap, before I got into bed at 1am. It’s only Thursday night after all, and I need to be up to catch the bus at 6.30.

Or at least that’s what seemed to be happening.

We actually left the restaurant at 1am. My friend and I headed to a bar in Pat Pong, the nearest place that’d remain open, planning on having one drink to wrap up the discussions we’d been having. We found a relatively quiet side bar – open to the street, free from stripers, though if we’d wanted with access to working girls (we didn’t), so we weren’t disturbed and settled back into our debate. At 4.30am, after a lot of whiskey, we had the transvestite running the bar tally up the bill and caught a cab home.

WHISKEY’S DRUNK: Umm???
PING-PONG BALLS: 0

SO NEAR, YET SO FAR

Timeline:

10/11 Claire’s lifelong friend decides to get married on 2/3
15/11 Claire books flight to Thailand to visit James from 30/1 to 28/2
27/11 Claire’s lifelong friend moves her wedding forward to 25/2
4/12 Claire moves flight forward to 23/1-23/2
7/12 James talks his way onto a project reviewing housing in East Timor
8/12 11.55am James gets offered the chance to research in East Timor in the last two weeks of Jan.
8/12 12.00pm James calls Claire to find out if she can move the wedding back.
8/12 12.05pm James tells his boss he can’t go to East Timor.

Damn.

NUMBER OF PEOPLE JAMES HAS COMPLAINED TO ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO GO TO EAST TIMOR: 9. And rising.

RANDOM PICCIES

Pic 1: Thai Mosquito Zappers

Pic 2: The view from my nearest skytrain station. The tall building in the background doesn't actually lean (I hope), and has one of Bangkok's plushest restaurants at the top. Obviously a regular haunt for a connoisseur like myself...

VICTORY MONUMENT

These piccies are of Victory Monument, the key bus terminal/exchange centre of Bangkok. This is an extra quiet Saturday, as most people had gone away for the long weekend. The cool thing is when you get on a bus you can ask if it goes "to Victory!"

The long weekend was to celebrate the King’s birthday. The town was decked out in the royal yellow, with extra king-related shrines popping up everywhere. About 10% of the people wore yellow shirts to mark the day, many the official version with the “Love Dad” slogan on it. There were concerts and activities all over Bangkok, which many people attended and sung along to the king-related songs.

As the King’s the ‘Father’ of Thailand, it is also Thai Father’s Day, so happy Father’s Day dad.

NEXT STOP, THAI NATIONAL CRICKET TEAM

I had my first start for Southerners CC this weekend in their thirds. The fact that wides joint to scored with 19 is indicative of the standard of cricket, but it was fun to be out in the field again and they seem like a good group. Yours truly scored the other 19 (including a few classy drives and a slogged six) and have been told I should get a run in the 1’s or 2’s this weekend.

Keeping with the finest traditions of low-grade cricket, I was out trying to slog a pie chucker to cow corner. Translation for non-cricketers: “My innings ended attempting to hit the ball as far as possible in an unorthodox manner off a very slow bowler towards the edge of the field on the 45o angle from the pitch in the clockwise direction.” I think the cricket terminology is more straightforward.

As typical, I had an ‘interesting’ occurrence in my first match. At one club I gave the captain out stumped, and at another I swept the first ball from the opening bowler and then got bowled by a full toss second ball.

For the Southerners I hit a nice cover drive, which went for four but wasn’t given, so instead we ran three. Or I did, the other guy walked the third going to the ‘safe’ end and was run out. I’m not taking the blame for it, but I guess they run between the wickets differently here. Cultural understanding?

Anyway, the key thing was that I was back out there and it felt good. I was glad it was only a 25 over match given the heat and humidity, so I’ll have to see how I go in a full day’s play.

The gated fence is there to maintain the cricketing tradition of entering the pitch through a gate in the wicket picket fence surrounding the ground. There are standards to maintain.

RUNS SCORED: 19
GOOD SHOTS PLAYED: 3
BAD SHOTS PLAYED: 2
BAD CRICKETING TECHNIQUES I’LL HAVE TO COME TO UNDERSTAND: 1

HOME NEW SWEET HOME

I acquired a new abode in downtown Bangkok today for the princely sum of 9000 Baht (about AUD$300) a month. It’s two rooms, quite large, and comes with a swimming pool, cleaner and laundry service free. Woo hoo! I’ll have forgotten what a household chore is before I get back to Australia.

I’m very excited. This is the beginning of a new chapter of my life in Thailand, as I can begin to really enjoy Bangkok. I’ve begun to decorate and will post pictures when I’m done.

COUNTDOWN TO CRICKET: 24 Hours
TOILETS CLEANED BY JAMES THE REST OF HIS STAY: 0

THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

On my way home from Future Park (the nearby humongous shopping mall) where I’d gone to buy a white shirt for cricket (yes, after a long wait I am finally going to have a game this weekend!) I hopped a cab, it was about 7.30pm and pitch black. To from Future Park to my place you simply head straight down the highway and turn left into the gates of the University. Simple.

But not for my taxi driver who took a random left before I could stop him, and this being Thailand there was no way to do a U-Turn until we were way off course. He then promptly got lost until I told him to stop and got out at the bottom of the campus, probably about 2km from my place. At least it was a nice night for a walk.

I wound my way along the pathways in the general direction of home. There was barely a soul about, I startled the two security guards playing cards in the middle of the deserted campus. I tried not to think of mosquitos, and nearly stepped on a toad. I flagged down a student on a motorbike to ask for directions. I walked on and on.

Boom. Ba-Boom. Boom. A bass guitar? A pause. Screech. Plang. An electric guitar? Silence. Sounds so familiar, though absent since I’d come to Thailand. Dum, Dum. Definitely a kick drum. I followed the faithful sounds to their source.

The campus ceased to be silent as I turned the corner to see a concert in full flight under one of the many pavilions on campus. The lights, yellow and red flashed, the student band kicked into a song, the bass loud, guitar distorted, singer shouting. 200 Thai students jumped up and down, screamed, lost control.

I stayed for four songs, the only live, living, vibrant rock songs I’ve heard from the Thai’s in my time here. The band were good, or at least as good as any uni band at home, they were noisy, they weren’t soppy, they weren’t polished till the heart was rubbed out.

With a smile of hope I walked the last yards home.

COUNTDOWN TO CRICKET: 48 Hours.
THAI KIDS GOING NUTS LIKE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO TO MUSIC: 200
BEERS CONSUMED BY SAID STUDENTS: None- it’s a dry campus after all.

LIKE A ROLLING STONE

Last night I had another in a series of dreams about music and rock stars.

I was onstage, replacing Mick Jagger in the Rolling Stones. There were thousands of fans screaming, Keith was over to my right, and the sky was blue. We sung a song, the microphone gave out, but I quickly swapped it for another. The song finished, the crowd cheered.

Keith came up to me and said,
“Let’s Play Under Cover of Night.”
“But I don’t know the words.”
“It’s easy, it goes na-na-la-la-Under Cover of Night. Got it?”
And started playing.

The dream ended.

Other rock star dreams:

1. I saw Jimi Hendrix play at Woodstock. From backstage. (I doubt the people that were actually there remember it.)

2. Tom Waits played a concert just for me at Hadrian’s Villa, Rome.

3. Bob Dylan and I dissed John Lennon to Yoko Ono’s face. (Apologies to John, but it was worth it.)

4. A few friends and I walked into a gig, and as we entered the promoter came up to us and said, “The bassist’s sick, can anyone play bass?” I hopped up on stage and improvised my way through the songs.

(The next day [when awake] a few friends and I went to an in-store performance in New Orleans. As we were walking in we overheard the singer talking to the storeowner say “We can’t start, we’re waiting for the bass player”. I paused, could it be true? One of the guys I’d come in with said, “I can play bass”. They turned him down.)

LOOK ME IN THE EYE

Well, there’s many ways to end up with a difficult relationship with a colleague – yell at them, have sex with them, go into work without your pants on – but I think I’ve got a reason that no one else that’ll read this will be able to match.

A couple of weeks ago I was out in Bangkok on Friday night. Because of rain and traffic accidents it’d taken me two hours to get into town, the ride in the minivan normally takes 50 mins. After a short ride to the end of the train line I looked to grab a cab for the last part of my journey.

I knew the cab ride should cost about 60 Baht, but every cabbie I asked refused to use the meter or negotiate down from 200 Baht. I kept flagging down different cabs, refusing to pay 200, but I’m pretty sure there was some collusion going on that night. It didn’t help that I was heading to a hotel in a tourist district either. Come on people, I was speaking Thai!

Getting increasingly frustrated, and beginning to contemplate walking, I spied one of the young Thai guys from work standing just down the street. Great! I was sure I could get him to hail a cab for me, and get me the local price.

I called to him but got no response. As I approached he looked at the air behind me. I gave him a greeting, but again nothing. A little miffed, I didn’t bother a third time, but couldn’t figure out what was going on. He very quickly ushered an overweight, 50 year old white guy into it, and then followed him in.

We haven’t looked each other in the eye since, and thankfully we don’t have to have anything to do with each other at work. Ah, secrets.

CHATACHUK MARKET

The big market in Bangkok is Chatachuk market. I spent 3 hours wandering around and still only managed to see areas 20-25, and then incompletely. I was told before hand to buy something if I liked it, as I wouldn’t be able to find my way back. By my stubborn self, I felt no need to follow the advice.

The markets made up of 1000’s of stalls gathered under tin rooves, with only paths one and a half-persons wide forming rows. There’s colourful silks, dark woods and aromatic incense piled high and stacked elegantly along each avenue. There’s junk, to be sure, but there’s some very beautiful things as well.

I picked up a picture that would’ve looked good on my wall, but put it down again to go buy some water. Just twenty metres away I purchased my drink, and turned around to find that all the stands and shifted and where the gallery stand had been was now a silk scarf stall.

After the market I strolled around the Ari district of Bangkok. Down one quiet Soi I spied a bar named the “Ari-Ba-Bar” – to celebrate the first pun in the history of Thailand I had to have a drink. From what I’ve noticed, Thai’s don’t really do verbal gags. I went to a movie the other week, and while I laughed at the verbal jokes the Thai’s laughed whenever a character fell over.

SUCCESS

Twice a week at the campus I’m staying on they have a night market. Well, that might be overselling it. There’s a strip of food stalls, and a strip of junk for sale that Thai students seem to want to purchase.

For the first time I managed to by dinner at the market entirely in Thai. Rudimentary as it may have been, I was able to actually ask about what I was purchasing rather than just pointing, and found out what it cost instead of just handing over a bill that would cover it. It may the Thai-BBQ chicken taste extra special.
On the chicken front, there are a number of people who’ve stopped eating chicken because of bird flu. One night at the campus restaurant the non-chicken options all sold out. If the food’s cooked it’s fine, the rest of Asia’s eating chicken and it’s only those working with birds that have died, and the pandemic fear comes human-to-human transmission. There’s just no rationality to fear sometimes.

THAI MUSIC IS NOISE POLLUTION

When I came home from work wafting, blaring, emanating from over the river was a type of Thai music I hadn’t heard before. Traditional sounds instrumentation played modern sounding pieces. It went on until 11 O’clock before finishing up, just in time for me to hit the sack.

I was revisited at 6.30 by the swinging-of-a-cat vocals and violins. After two tracks what sounded like a Thai political speech followed, and then more vocals and violins.

I’ve never got ready quicker for work.

On the bus to Pattaya the driver put on a DVD of a Thai performer doing covers of western songs, or more particularly a karaoke show. There were thousands of Thai’s in the audience screaming away. For the most part it was terrible, and the songs were appauling – Village People, Hot Chocolate, KC & The Sunshine Bollocks. Then out of nowhere is a version of “Bad Time” by The Jayhawks – a band I really like. I have no idea how it got there, as I doubt there’s a copy of the album in the country that I don’t own. The song’s so good it even made this guy seem momentarily OK.

On a note that’s only related because it’s me complaining, the currency of Thailand’s the Baht (1 Baht = 3 Aust cents), made up of 100 Satangs. Rarely prices are in Satangs, but not often. When they do, prices and change are then rounded to the nearest Baht. For the first time I received Satang in my change today. These coins can’t actually buy anything. They are the ultimate poo change.

“GOOD GUYS GO TO HEAVEN…

…BAD GUYS GO TO PATTAYA” read the T-Shirt.

It could read “Good guys may go to heaven, but Fat, Old, European tourists definitely go to Pattaya to fuck young Thai prostitutes” and be accurate. Both parties driven by desperation.

The week I spent here for work has been enough for me, and I’ll avoid the popular tourist area as much as possible in future.
Incidentally, there were lots of Russians staying at the hotel and I’ve learnt from their pink faces that they’re just as hopeless at handling the sun as the British.

WHY DO PEOPLE INVITE DICKHEADS TO PARTIES?

I headed to a friends party in Bangkok tonight. Things went pretty well, though the music wasn’t great, and people were perhaps a bit too shmick looking. It was mostly filled with young Australians who ‘work for an NGO’, as they’re all happy to tell you. I guess not all art students end up unemployed, some volunteer.

One guy really, really got on my nerves. Besides taking the whole thing too seriously, he only wanted to talk about himself, what he was doing, and why that was important. On two occasions I managed to make successful exits from the conversation (to replace a quickly finished drink, and an unneeded bathroom visit) only for him to track me down and start up again later.

He finally went too far when he told me that he believed that it was inappropriate for those being paid by the Australian Government to be criticising their policies. I proffered that being able to think, debate and articulate an understanding of the world and its outcomes was actually desireable and showed Australia in a better light than mindless zombies do. That idea flew over his head and wedged itself in the wall behind him.

JUST A LITTE OFF THE TOP

I ventured my first haircut in Thailand today. After managing to first communicate that I wanted a haircut using hand signals, I sat in the chair.

“Choose” said the hairdresser, putting a magazine full of pictures of Thai-Student haircuts in front of me. After suppressing the momentary desire to go for a weird-orange coloured do with associated spikes defying gravity, I began to panic and had to suppress the desire to run.

“Just a little off. 1 cm. (Hold up fingers, a small gap between thumb & forefinger). 1cm. 1CM!” Flicking quickly through the magazine I found something that nearly approximated my haircut in a rough way, but that at least avoided strange colours and different length clumps sticking straight out from the back of my head.

Things seemed to have gone well when she got the hairdryer out to dry my hair off and put me on my way. She began to dry and comb in a way I wouldn’t normally have done it (ie at all), but I figured I’d just shower and redo it after anyway. After 10 mins of drying and combing I suddenly realised what was going on. She was straightening my hair!

I had desired straight hair previously, with its associated option of actually having a hairstyle, but after seeing the giant hair helmet I’d been given that desire quickly passed. I don’t know how you straight haired freaks do it.

There will be NO picture posted of my haircut.

FONDLED BY THAI MEN…

I just spent the last week in an emergency response-training course (now half way through) with only Thai participants. I voiced fears earlier about not talking with anyone, and while that’s happened the Thais have done everything they can to communicate. However given they speak about 20 words of English and I 5 of Thai it hasn’t got too far. What’s been interesting is that they’ve been both welcoming and making me the butt of the jokes – a difficult combination that they manage to pull off simultaneously. And I do mean simultaneously, not alternatively.

The sessions are a combination of lessons and practical sessions. I initially found it challenging being in such a tactile environment compared to what I’m used to, but have gotten used to it. Exactly why the physical check of a patient needs to involve checking the buttocks for injury I’m not sure – I doubt there’s any vital organs there.

On my first day I was writing notes in class, and felt people looking over my shoulder. They were intrigued to see me writing English, and with the help of the interpreter I learnt that it was the fluidity of the language that was compelling. Thai involves very separate characters with several strokes so each letter is an effort in itself, especially compared to English with its loops and joined letters.

The others are staying at the training centre and each day begins with a jog, talk from their supervisor, and a flag raising ceremony at which the sing the anthem. I was planning on staying at the centre until I couldn’t roll out of bed just prior to the classes. I still find it surprising to see them singing the anthem as the flag’s raised, though that’s just my Australian cynicism coming through. I watched the ceremony the other day while listening to Tom Waits on my Discman (believe me, you don’t want to hear them sing the anthem). It was great to think they were raising the flag singing “…They all jump when the hear the sirens, but Romeo just laughs, all the racket in the world, ain’t gonna save that coppers ass…”

Thais have an alternative annual calendar to the standard BC/AD variety, and as such our lessons are currently being conduct in October 48. It looked really strange seeing the date of the lesson given as 27/10/48. I can’t remember from my Thai history lesson what happened in 1957 (it was a political event), but will report back.
On Friday the taxi driver I got got lost. I gave him the address written in Thai, he asked other drivers directions, he still got lost. I told him to turn around, gave him directions, pointed out the street, he still got lost. He stopped the cab under instruction, I yelled, he asked for payment, he got some pay, the door got slammed. I got another cab. Angry, and slightly out of pocket, I got to the training just before start. Grumpy, with dark clouds circling, but with my everything’s-wonderful-in-Thailand smile plastered on, I walked into the meeting room. The participants were having a spontaneous concert with drums, tambourines and cymbals they’d got from somewhere. One of them was signing (they love karaoke). It took at 12 secs for my fake smile to become a real one, 20 secs for the taxi driver to be for gotten, and 25 secs for me to leave the room to find something else to do until class started. It cheered me up, but they were still really, really bad.

One final thing, and while I know it’s not fair, we studied “Anatomy and fishology of the body” on Thursday. Heh, heh, heh.

HARRY POTTER

Through necessity I picked up a Harry Potter book to read. Necessary as the only other book in English was Dan Brown. Never, never will I read that book.

It’s so much fun. It’s just fun. Fun. I’d forgotten that books could be just fun. I haven’t read a book absent of philosophy, sadness, beauty and emotion in so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to read something fun and I’m loving it. I’m not talking about escapism but enjoyment. Not forgetting about my world, but doing something that enhances it by, entering a world with characters and adventures.

Fun.

PRIMORDIAL SOUP

Rain crashed down today. It was prehistoric, primordial, the sort of rain that created life. Man throughout time had looked at it, and failed to alter it. All we can do is find or build shelter. Looking at the rain and my little bit of shelter, I felt connected to people everywhere and everywhen.

WANTIRNA, THAILAND

Attached are some pictures of Rangsit, Thailand. From what I can gather it is to Bangkok what Wantirna is to Melbourne.

Try A Little Tenderness

Try a Little Tenderness - Otis Redding: Best song ever.

(Yes, I know I say that a lot, but every song I say it about is the best song ever).

Also, the baby gecko in my room and I seem to be getting better acquainted. No, not like that. Geez. He's been crawling on my wall look at me for a couple hours now. Every now and again he comes for a closer look, and because I haven't done anything to shoo him away I think he's beginning to understand I mean him no harm. As I think I've said before, the geckos can stay so long as they don't run over my face while I sleep.

CAFÉ LATTE

When I got here, the guy conducting our induction training told me that Thai’s spend all their time with company, and most often out eating. He said that that person eating alone in a restaurant is considered a loser. I must be the biggest loser in the whole of Thailand at the moment.

I went into a cafe the other week, sat down and asked for a coffee. The guy said yes, and brought me a food menu anyway. After about 15 mins I asked what had happened to the coffee, and he said "oh, isn't someone else coming?" Not in a patronising manner, but in a surprised manner that I would be alone.

When the coffee turned up it came with a shot of hot, black tea. I have no idea what I was supposed to do with the tea.

LOSER RATING: #1
TEA SHOOTERS: 1

HOW BLUE CAN YOU GET?

Well it finally hit, I’m not at home and I’m feeling lonely. It’s been three days since I’ve spoken to anyone, and I’m about to head into a two-week (thirteen out of fourteen days) training session with only Thais, whose English isn’t very good, meaning two weeks of not talking to anyone.

I’ve been having lunch with a group of young people from all over the world who work in my and similar organisations and I hadn’t realised how important my lunchtime conversations had become as a source of friendship, words, conversations, interaction and stimulation.

This is the first time that I’ve not really felt like I’m at home, and I want to be. I haven’t really felt any culture shock here as it’s all too similar, and I’ve maintained enough contact with people at home and new friends here. Now that later support has been temporarily taken away and I don’t want to put too much onto those at home. I’ve finally got isolated. I think I’ll write a few emails and talk about things, but I don’t want to be a burden anyone and ultimately any change to my circumstances will come from me and what I do here.

(Yes, I know putting this here will put pressure on others to do something, but that’s not the point of my writing this. This is a discussion I’m having with myself that I’m sharing so that you understand what’s going on. Afterwards everything will be OK.)

WE WORKED ON…

I caught one of my Thai colleagues last week taking partial credit for work that I’d done when it was presented to the boss. I was fuming, but decided to leave things until the next day. “Who knows, maybe that’s the way things are done here?” I reasoned. I spoke to a contact of mine, and he said he’d find out if a confrontation was possible without destroying completely our working relationship, and if this was the norm. He thought that there was probably good reason to avoid saying anything directly.

I went into work the next day, and planned to say something at the end of the day. Through the course of the day my colleague was criticised a couple of times and was upset, so I had to let things slide.

I spoke to my contact that evening, and he’d checked with Thai friends of his. They’d said that it was inappropriately and my colleague was obviously a cheat. They’d also have confronted her straightaway. Well what do you know. There I was being the ‘culturally sensitive’ guy, and I was just being played. At least I’ll know next time and will look after how my work’s being presented. I guess there’s jerks everywhere.

JERKS: 1
LESSONS LEARNT: 1

SHEEP PENS

The BBC World Channel is beamed into my room on campus. Yesterday they playing the first day of Saddam Hussein’s first trial live to air (or at least minimally delayed) in full. As in real time. As in, if Saddam had picked his nose we’d have seen the knuckle disappearing. As in when the lawyer shuffled his papers, we saw. The footage was of Hussein and seven of his cohorts sitting in what look like sheep pens, sitting, and listening. Over the top was the occasional interpretation of the lawyers’ speeches. There were many words spoken in Arabic and then a very short translated English, leading to long gaps between the English translations. From the faces of the accused I think boredom is part of their punishment, though a limited torture compared to the crimes they’re charged with.

The prosecutor began reading a long list of crimes committed by the regime before the defence attorney objected that the trial was only about the Dujail massacre. There were wild gesticulations, shouting, and a sleepy looking judge giving a ruling. As the Dujail incident was retold in detail there was nearly no reaction from the eight accused, until one of them buried his head in his hands. Was it remorse? Was it fatigue? Boredom? Was it wishing he hadn’t got caught?

I find it amazing that such a historic, boring event was presented in full live to air. The elements of transparency and fairness in the judicial system have to be ensured. Its being played live on Iraqi television too and I wonder how it’s being received there.

I made it through 15 minutes of the historic event before exercising my freedom.

(ACCUSED) MONSTERS: 8
NOSES PICKED: NONE…YET.

LOCH NESS MONSTER

Its prehistoric form, motionless against a modern backdrop, waited. Its tongue sensed the air, flicking in and out of a strong, scaly jaw. Nostrils quivered, and eyes scanned the car park. Scales covered muscle, muscle covered bone, instinct and body transcended time.

Nearly a metre and a half separated its sharp front teeth from its powerful tail. It waited, confident that it was the predator. Finally, with an authorative strut it paced through the car park toward its lair in the reeds arising from the lake. The scourge of the feral kittens slid easily into the water, and sped silkily to the reeds with just its head exposed before disappearing.

Myth ceased to be myth, as physical evidence substantiated the existence of a dinosaur amongst Thailand’s future. Nessie was no more, and the monitor lizard was real. Incontrovertible evidence will be posted soon, but until then here’s a picture of the beast’s home.

FERAL KITTENS LIVING NEAR THE LAKE TWO WEEKS AGO: 8
FERAL KITTENS LIVING NEAR THE LAKE YESTERDAY: 3
PHOTOS TAKEN BY JAMES WHEN HE GOT TOO CLOSE WITHOUT REALISING BEFORE FREAKING OUT WHEN THE LIZARD LOOKED AT HIM: 1

EMOTIONAL AIRBAGS

I got asked how I’m feeling at the moment. Actually, I was challenged that all I’m providing is a series of anecdotes. Geez, the truth hurts.

I know that I’m bored. I don’t have a lot to do at work (no, please don’t send me your work to do). I’ve spent the last two weekends stuck in my dogbox writing assignments – I knew I should have withdrawn when I had the chance. Near my place there’s nowhere to go, and nothing particularly interesting to do. Shooting hoops by yourself or playing guitar alone is only entertaining for a certain period.

I know that I’m alone. None of the Thai students seem to speak a conversational level of English, or at not least with me. All my friends, my girlfriend and family are back in Australia. The group that I get along with at work and others on my program all live in Bangkok because they realised/knew how dull this area is. I haven’t been able to join them because of essays, and it looks like I’ve at least one more weekend of essays and then two of training before I can have fun. I’ve gone the last two weekends with out talking to anyone. There’s only so much company you can get from shooting hoops by yourself or playing guitar alone in your bedroom. (Although I am getting better at both).

I know this, but I’m not really feeling it. There’s a big white space in the middle of my emotions that’s pushing everything else, the more substantive feelings, to the edges so that I don’t feel them that strongly. It’s probably a coping strategy, an emotional airbag if you will, so I’m bored but not frustrated and alone but not lonely. I guess a series of anecdotes is actually a pretty fair representation of where I’m at at the moment.

I’m excited about the prospects being here and want to get back into Bangkok as soon as possible where there’s so much life swirling around. I’m also intimidated about getting back in Bangkok, but in a good way. I want to travel and I want my weekends free to take trips to other parts of Thailand and Asia. There’s good things coming up, I’ve just got to finish these DAMN ESSAYS!

NEW CHORDS LEARNT: 1 – B minor. It’s really hard.
NEW THAI PHRASES LEARNT: None - I’ve got to finish these DAMN ESSAYS!

HELP, I NEED SOMEBODY

I managed to solve most of the mosquito problem a few days ago. I discovered that the top windowpane in the bathroom was missing - I just thought that it was really clean. Also, there’s gecko that seems to live behind my curtains and he might also be helping to keep the mosquito population down. He can stay there and eat as many of the things as he likes unless he runs over me at night – then the arrangements over.

Maintenance came and fixed the broken window the same day, which sounds really efficient if you don’t know that there are normally about 20 maintenance guys sitting around doing nothing. If you asked the old joke of Thais “How many people does it take to change a light bulb” the answer’s “More than anywhere else”.

It’s not that they’re lazy, far from it, things are just organised differently here. For example, on my first day I bought a power board to plug my gizmos into. One person took the product from me and put it in a bag, a second took the money and passed it to a third who worked the till, while a fourth ran up the sale on the cash register. And that’s not unusual. There’s just more staff around and they socialise a lot more while they’re at work.

For those towards the bottom of the commercial scale, such as the small shop owners, work seems to be something that’s all encompassing but also social. By way of example, there’s a guy on campus that runs as small motorbike/pushbike repair shop. He’s open 7 days a week for more than 12 hours a day. But he’s not working for 12 hours, he’s there for 12 hours. If he has 12 hours worth of work to do, then he’ll do it, but he doesn’t go chasing it. In the intervening time he’s got friends around, or other shop owners, who sit and chew the fat. The conversations seem to be the whole point of going to work, and that’s what makes the 7 days a week bearable. It’s a very different approach to work back home were the objective (mostly) seems to be get in, work hard, and be there a little as possible. It’s the time outside of work that’s the most important, social time. Given that we spend 5 out of 7 days at work ‘not socially’, I wonder who gets to spend more time with their friends?

HOURS AT WORK: Not as many as the Thai bike store owner

NO SEX PLEASE, WE’RE THAI

There’s a couple of movie channels on cable TV playing Hollywood movies in Enlglish (I’ve watched some shockers that strangely didn’t seem so bad here), and its taken me a few days to figure out what I was finding slightly unnerving about the films. The sex scenes are cut out. Something was irking me a little bit about the films I was watching (besides the bad scripts) but it took me a few days to notice that it was the total absence of nudity. Initially I thought that the station was just being prudent in their selection, until I watched a film that I knew there was nudity in. Or isn’t, in Thailand.

It’s strangely distracting not to have sex in a film. While it can be too gratuitous back home, I keep expecting something to ‘pop-up’ but it never does. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not Mr Randy-Pants, but it just feels weird that it’s not there. Violence, however, is OK.

At lunch I asked a few people (1 girl from Singapore, 1 girl from India, and two boys from the UK) “Is nudity cut out of films here?”
“Yes!” was the very quick reply from the guys. “But you can show someone being shot.”
“Well violence is a part of life” from my female Indian colleague.
“So’s sex!” The two UK lads simultaneously.
“That’s such a western view.” - Indian female. Apparently sex isn’t a part of life in India.

BAD MOVIES WATCHED: 3
CULTURAL REFERENCE I DIDN’T UNDERSTAND: 1

PLEASE FEED ME

I very nearly paid dearly for being unable to speak Thai today.

On campus there’s a restaurant (quite nice) and a string of about 8 food stalls (OK, just). This evening (Sunday) when I went to order there were only a few of the food stalls open, none of which spoke English, and none of which had a menu, pictures or food that I could just point at like a dumb ape to order. Isolated, stuck, I prevaricated between embarrassingly attempting to order food, not eating or eating a pile of junk from 7-11. Others had told me that you could get by without speaking Thai by pointing, but they’d just been proven wrong. I was an outsider and it was my own fault, and it looked like no dinner would be my punishment for being ignorant of the country I was in.

I approached the stalls three times before my stomach got the better of my embarrassment. Fortunately the first stall managed to produce a menu when I approached, but that isn’t the point. I need to do more to learn Thai, to fit in, and not be a stupid Farang. I guess I’ll be going for the $65 Thai classes.

FARANG

I overheard someone use the word ‘Farang’ as I walked passed for the first time today. The speaker was a 5 year old, so I couldn’t be offended, but the last couple of days I have felt like a ‘foreigner’. On the campus nearly all of the students are locals, and the English levels here are much lower than in Bangkok. In the city proper there’s foreigners everywhere and all the Thais speak English.

It’s been interesting to walk around and feel isolated from those around me. Being a white male in Australia it’s pretty rare that I ever feel like a minority. I can’t speak to people that I want to, I have to figure things out for myself, and I can’t always be sure of what I’m going to get when I order food.

ENGLISH SPEAKERS ON CAMPUS: 5.5%
MEALS I DIDN’T EXPECT: 1.5

NO SLEEP IN THE DOG BOX

I’ve figured out why the room was vacant. Firstly there are stacks of mosquitos – I’m just hoping that Pathum Thani (the outer suburb I’m living in) is a malaria-free area. I’ve discovered that the fake Birkenstocks I bought at the market are great fly swatters, but my wall is already beginning to turn from an off white into a mottled mix of mosquito and Birkenstock-sole print.

Then there’s the fact that it’s near the front door – I can hear everyone come and go. Finally, there was a lot of light coming in the window so I got up to see if I’d left the balcony light on, when I looked out the window I could see that one of the campuses floodlights was shining directly on my window. I looked for the switch in my room, but couldn’t locate it.

Needless to say there wasn’t a lot of sleeping done, but I figure if I learn to sleep through this I’ll be able to sleep through anything.

I’ve been looking into doing a language course while staying here as I’d like to learn a bit of Thai. A colleague of mine pointed out that the local language centre offers two language courses – Thai at 2,000 Baht (AUD$65) or French at 250 Baht (AUD$8.50) for 27 hours of class. Go figure the logic. When I saw the price of the French class I used the expression “Holy Guacamole”. I then spent 20 minutes trying to explain why I used that phrase, what Guacamole is and finding a picture of it on the Internet.

MOSQUITOS KILLED: AT LEAST 28
ACCOMMODATION RULE #1: ALWAYS CHECK FOR WATER NEAR YOUR ROOM

DOG BOX

I got my new accommodation today – a dog box at the university campus. It’ll do for a few months, and above all things cheap. The rents about $130 per month – not quite what I was paying in Fitzroy. It’s basically four walls, cold shower, and a TV playing only Thai channels and soccer – if my Thai gets anywhere near useful (which I doubt) I’ll be able to get my fill of Thai soaps as that’s all that seems to be shown on the box here. I hope it’ll be alright for a while, as I don’t plan on moving into Bangkok until the new year. That’s when the fun of living in a major metropolis should really kick in.

I’ve got a bike to get to and from work, and let me tell you it’s a beast. It may have been the first bike ever important into Thailand, but that’s what you get for $20. As I bump along the uneven footpath to work – no way am I going to ride on the roads – the seat keeps tilting backwards, and the task is made increasingly difficult as the handlebars aren’t aligned properly with the front wheel. I may need to do a little repair work over the weekend.

FORMS WRITTEN IN THAI THAT I SIGNED: MORE THAN I HAD FINGERS
FORMS WRITTEN IN THAI THAT I SIGNED THAT I UNDERSTOOD: 0
TV CHANNELS I CAN UNDERSTAND: 1

BROKEN GLOBE

There’s an interesting take on conservation going in Thailand. Basically there isn’t any I can see unless it’s essential. Bangkok still suffers from blackouts occasionally so there’s signs everywhere telling people to turn off the lights etc, and for the most part they do. It goes as far as turning on and off lights in some public spaces if you’re the first or last to arrive or leave. That’s pretty awesome when you consider the ambient light levels that Melbourne produces.

But then there’s no further follow-up or green movement. For example, there’s no recycling. It’s obviously a practical and not theoretical underpinning to the conservation that does occur. They also seem to be saving milk as it’s all ‘whitener’ here. I’ve started to drink my tea black and have had to give up coffee as a\there’s no real coffee, and b\the Nescafe is even worse here than back home, completely undrinkable without milk. The only other thing they seem to be saving is vegetables – they don’t come with anything. I was literally served rice and meat for dinner one night. While it may sound like heaven to my brother, I’m actually missing having some dead flora along with my dead fauna.
Speaking of power saving, I wish I could turn off the radio in my work area. All day long its terrible Thai pop ballads – and if you think Australian radio’s bad you ain’t heard nothing yet. I’ve heard one song, more specifically one chorus, go on for 20 minutes.
The only other thing of note is the rain. It doesn’t muck about, the whole sky falls for about 20 minutes and then is done for the day. There’s no point carrying a brolly around either – you need to be under shelter.

SECOND DAY AT WORK

Today was my first real day at work, after Monday just involved sitting around finishing off a few private things, and boy was it interesting.

I had my introductory meeting the manager of my organisation. In only 10 minutes he managed to become the most dignified, stately and trustworthy man I think I have ever met. I think I made a good impression, and being a Uni Melb alumnus carried some weight – about the first time it’s got me anywhere.

Later that day we had our monthly all-staff meeting – though of the 50 people in the organisation there only ever seems to be 20 around. After the manager’s update it was the turn of the sections to present their information. Chairing this section gets rotated amongst the teams, and this month the chair decided to play “Information Bingo”, whereby names were drawn out of the hat to talk about what they’ve been doing. We had scorecards with the names on it, and a completed row was a winner.

I was asked to introduce myself initially. In our training I’d been told that they’re really asking about myself and my life, whereas back home the question’s about functions and academic/work history. I didn’t really want to share much in public so I went with the functional approach.

The rest of the meeting passed, and I was asked to introduce myself further. I hesitated, filled in some more academic stuff, why I’m in Thailand, fluffed around, before the head of HR said, “I think that the singles here would like to know if you’re attached?” Thank you very much. With a deep blush, and a nothing answer I managed to get away without saying anything – though the rest of the room seemed to really enjoy it. At my expense of course.

CREDIT (EVER) FOR ATTENDING UNI MELB: 1
EMBARRASSMENT ON A SCALE OF 1-10: 6.2

FIRST NIGHT OUT

Side streets here are known as ‘soi’s’ and they’re numbered in order from the main street that they run off. I’m in Silom and the main streets ‘Silom’ St – so the side streets are Silom Soi 1-30.

The club we went to was on Soi sii – 4th Street – or as it’s commonly referred to, Gay Soi. The street is so camp it’s hilarious – even down to the places only employing gay waiters who swish about the place. We went to a bar/club, which was OK, or more specifically the décor was pretty good but the music was terrible.

The place filled up with Thai people, which I was a bit surprised at, and to tell the truth a little intimidated by. Not that they were threatening (well maybe some looked a bit so) but it’s more that I didn’t know the rules of what was going on. Were the girls hookers? Were the girls girls? Were the guys the thugs they dressed up to be? Would I get beaten up for looking at the wrong person the wrong way?

Who knows, obviously nothing happened and we all just had a drink chat and very limited boogie – as I said, the music was terrible.

JAMES THINKING LIKE A DICKHEAD: 1
BEERS: 1 too many

THE MARKET (FOR WHAT?)

At Pat Pong just about everything is for sale, but much of it is tainted goods. Yeh, that’s a real Rolex. I don’t know why anyone would wear a real one here – everyone will just assume it’s a fake. One of my colleagues tried to run an argument that prostitution wasn’t that bad – it’s amazing how many holes one twist of logic can contain. I’m not sure where the argument begins and ends – who’s at fault? Is there fault? There must be.

We had a wander around and saw the scum of many nations slinking along the street, but we also saw a few guys who looked like they’d just left high school and suburban Melbourne. The horror.

I managed to make my first purchase as well – the guy asked for 1,200 Baht and I ended up paying 500 Baht. I think I did OK, but I’m still pretty sure I paid a Farang (foreigner) price – let’s face it, the marketeers are far more shrewd than I am.

DIRTY OLD MAN COUNT: A big number
WOMEN BEING EXPLOITED: A big number

A Visit to the Coal Face

I ventured out to visit my workplace for the first time. It was described as being outside Bangkok, by which they meant way outside Bangkok. Think Nth Thornbury from the CBD. It took an hour to get there, and that was using the tollway, against the traffic and when there was fortunately no traffic jams. Work’s situated on a university campus full of open spaces and trees. Apparently there are large lizards that live in the multiple pools around the place, but so far they’re a bit like the drop bears from what I can see.

Today also prompted my first visit to an international chain – Starbucks. Look, it’s not my fault – I needed somewhere air-conditioned and quiet to write this. OK.

TOLLWAY COUNT: 4
LIZARD COUNT: 0

After not enough sleep A NEW BEGINNING

I had a chance to get around Bangkok a little bit. I’d been here 3 years ago a remembered a dirty, smelly, crowded and poverty infested city. Today everything’s clean though in need of a paint job, the bums have been moved on elsewhere, there’s less need to push your way along the footpath and the smell’s even tolerable. Maybe my impressions will change, but it feels like the town’s been cleaned up – sort of like the effort Sydney made to become Disneyland for the Olympics. It’s still disorientating though not because of the countless people and swirling streets but because of the constant repetition of the same chain stores.

SMELL COUNT: Reduced
7-11 COUNT: Countless

Pre-Departure

25/9 PRE-DEPARTURE

Everything seemed to be running smoothly. Houses were moved out of, stuff stuffed in every spare corner of my parents’ house, friends said goodbye to. All that was left to do was pack the last few things leave for the airport at 12.45 and say final goodbyes to my parents and girlfriend. Too easy.

Or so I thought. For the first time in living memory I managed to lock myself out of the house at 10.30, with no packing done. That’s OK, Luke’s at cricket training I’ll just call him to bring his key over. My phone told me I had 70c left, which was spent talking to Luke’s colleague to whom he had his phone diverted. Send him a message she suggested as the last of my credit ran out. From a phone box I called Tim, the only other person in Melbourne with a spare key, but no response.

I headed back to the house, increasingly fraught girlfriend by my side. At the back was the garage roller door into the backyard. From the guys having a party in the alleyway I was able to borrow a ladder, lent it up against the garage door and climbed to the top. From over a storey up I surveyed my options. I grabbed the short metal pole jutting out of the garage door and the top of the carport support pole. Swinging in mid-air I looked down onto uneven ground. I pushed off the wall to get some momentum, let go, aimed for level ground a couple of metres away, and with a “please don’t hurt myself” running through my head I landed. Safe.

I hit the garage opening mechanism, and as the door scrolled up I expected a “your such a hero” but got a “oh my God!” instead. Looking down, I saw that one of my girlfriend’s dogs was bleeding from her eye. It was 11am.

Quickly into the house we grabbed the car keys and were quickly on the road to the doggie hospital. And when I say ‘hospital’ I mean it – better facilities were never afforded to the care of those in the third world. After quick admittance the vet cheerfully told us that the dog would need stitches, and would we (chuckle) mind paying the $300 bill. Sure, we said.

Back home at 12am I went to my ‘to-do’ list, only to discover it was missing. Every bit and piece I could think of got stuffed into various bags – after all, I’d been given up to a 40kg limit so there’d be no problem. My clothes and uni books were already packed, so I gathered my laptop and toiletries and sealed the main case. My cricket bat went in the backpack, and guitar case closed with a satisfying thud.

My parents arrived with the wagon, we loaded everything in and got to the airport. The first bag weighed 16kg, the guitar 6kg, and the suitcase 31kg. Holy Shit! “Hey man, I’m going for a year, can you help me?” He was quiet and just started processing things. I was quiet. He gave me my boarding pass. I left.

TRAVEL TIP #1: It never helps to be a jerk at the first instance.
TRAVEL TIP #2: Just shut up sometimes. They don’t want a hassle and if what you want is their path of least resistance that’s what you’ll get.