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.