Clean, Clear, Calm…

A couple of years back, a friend of mine asked me to "help" him run the NYC marathon. He hadn’t trained, and his plan was to enlist 5 friends to each run 5 miles with him and support him through the race. I agreed to do my part and showed up at mile 5 in Brooklyn at the appointed time. As he neared, I jumped into the sea of humanity and found a pace chugging alongside him. Despite the chill of November in New York, I quickly began to sweat out the bottle of wine and huge dinner I had the night before. I was having a blast, though – the sights, the sounds, the supporting crowds… it was incredible to be a part of that swell of energy. As we approached mile 10, though, it became clear that the appointed friend was not as punctual as I had been. Feeling good, I decided to stick with my buddy and fill the gap. I had never run 10 miles before, but what the heck. We trudged along to mile 15, where yet another recruited runner had not shown up. Breaking new ground, I agreed to keep on running. Surprisingly, the neighborhoods and the crowds and the spectacle distracted me from the actual running and I still felt great. No one else showed up that day and I actually ran all the way to the end of the marathon (now that’s a friend!). I made it to mile 26 where they force you to leave the race if you are not a registered runner. Of course, the crowd didn’t know that and physically pushed me back onto the course. "Don’t quit now," they yelled. "You’re so close to the finish. You can do it!" I pushed my way through, laughing as I explained that I was just tagging along with a friend. He made it to the end, and I was proud for him. He hit a real rough patch on the 59th Street Bridge, but we made it through it. No way we were quitting before even getting to Manhattan! When I look back on that day, I am proud to have run 20+ miles, and proud to have stuck with my friend. I was exhilarated by marathon running and couldn’t wait to formally sign up for the next race. Why didn’t I and how does this relate to a travel journal about SE Asia? I didn’t sign up because I knew I’d take it too seriously – I’d over train, over think over run, and never match the fun time I had running when I hadn’t expected to. Running formally might take the pure joy out of the race for me.
When Cathy and I returned to the US from three months in Africa, I was shocked at how many people read – and enjoyed – my journal entries. It wasn’t just family, who had to say they liked it. It was friends of friends, random strangers, even someone from a travel show. How does this relate to the marathon story? When I wrote from Africa, it was for myself first. I loved writing down all the things I saw and learned. Writing was as pure and unexpected as that day running the marathon. I couldn’t believe how much I enjoyed to write, and how much time I actually spent submitting entries. But now I am faced with a scary reality – there are people actually reading this stuff. Second, it was to keep family abreast of our whereabouts and experiences. Third, it was for Cathy and I for posterity – a record of our adventure. What I wrote is respected and people enjoy it. Knowing that fact is like running the marathon for real – there are actual expectations now, and I can only hope my writing continues to capture my true thoughts and feelings, forgetting that there are a bunch of people reading this. Please don’t expect too much, and I will do my best to continue my journal writing as I did in Africa. I can only hope to find that voice again, and I’ve discovered that’s not easy. So much happened in Africa that I am still digesting that trip. And here we are off again. I worry about having anything left to say!
With that caveat in place, here goes…
Our trip over to Hong Kong was as pleasant as they come. In fact, Cathay Pacific airlines might be the best airline I have ever flown. It was like staying in a 5-star hotel for 16 hours. Following my concerns about renewed travel (see the Prologue entry from 30 Nov 2002), this was crucial to get the trip started off on the right foot. From Hong Kong we flew to Bangkok (where we ran onto another Amherst grad in the airport, Amanda Boggs – see Africa pages for other random Amherst moments), and then on to Phuket, the resort island in the south of Thailand. Phuket was actually mentioned in the recent US State Dept Travel Advisories as a potential terrorist target for its similarity to Bali, and I was relieved when our hotel proved to be quite a bit off the beaten path. Jet lag wasn’t too bad, and I immediately went for a run to shake the cobwebs out. We had lost a day crossing the international date line, and our clocks now needed to be a full 12 hours ahead. Sounds strange, but it’s not really all that bad. First impressions? Thai people are friendly and quick to smile. That counts for a lot. There are no bad vibes here – only good ones, it seems. Is it Buddhism? Not sure. Everything is clean and comfortable, and although chaos reigns in the towns and villages (a mass of mopeds, cars, chickens, dogs, etc), it is a very different chaos from Africa. African chaos made me think of desperate humanity. In Thailand, somehow it’s more uplifting. The chaos here is charming. People are happy, don’t ask anything of you (politeness is incredible and a crucial part of SE Asian culture, it seems), and are not broke or starving. People seem to have choice. Even those who live in tin shacks (they are prevalent) have perfectly manicured gardens in their front yard. Unlike Africa, there is a palpable sense of self-worth and identity among Thai people, and it makes the tourist experience quite remarkable. The people have been nothing but gracious and friendly. They love their king (who celebrated his 75th birthday on December 5th), and they love their country. It is a pleasure being here.
Also, unlike Africa, our experience here involves more interaction with people. Whereas the Africa journal was mostly about animals and landscape, I expect this journal to include more about people and culture. Further, we get to exercise here! Unlike Africa, where I couldn’t jog (heap big lions in jungle, tarzan!), I’ve run almost everyday here, and I am reminded of what a great joy it is to run. Moreover, it’s great to wave and smile at people, as well as scope out the area. The Thai people near our first hotel must not see many runners, though, and I caught quite a few looks while on the road. Some responses were funny ("hey, phuket town that way" laughed a man on a moped as he pointed me to the resort town a few miles off where most of the tourists stay), strange (one farmer stopped working in his field and watched me with delight, cackling with dry laughter for the 5 minutes I was in his line of sight. He was practically doubled over with glee. He must of thought it hilarious that some idiot white-boy was out on the streets running in 95 degree temps, and – although I agree with him in hindsight since I almost collapsed that day – I wasn’t laughing along with him at the time), and just plain nice ("good morning"…"hel-lo"…"how are you, sir"). One man even taught me how to say hello (sawadee khap for men, sawadee kha for women) and good luck ("choke lee") which I merrily yelled to everyone I passed in the road. I usually think best when I run, too, and I came up with a reason why people in foreign countries stare at runners. It has happened to me in Malta, Ireland, Mauritius, Egypt, Seychelles, Thailand, etc… My theory is that people on most other countries still work manual labor for the most part, and they simply can not comprehend those who actually run for pleasure. Do you think a farmer who works in the fields for 12 hours a day can understand jogging? He either thinks 1) wow – that guy must be a good farmer back in the US to be able to work all day and still be able to run or 2) what kind of a nut job person runs instead of working in the fields? When you think about it, there may be no greater indicator of sedentary white-collar living than jogging and general exercise. If ya got time and energy to hit the gym after work, you ain’t doin’ the kind of work your ancestors did! While jogging I was also able to take in the surrounding scenes of daily life. On a 7 am run I saw people heading off to work, dads washing their children with a soap and water from a hose in the street in front of their house (thus I finally found out why most houses seem to have a strange soapy puddle in front, when it hadn’t even rained!), cows being lead to pasture, and late-night revelers groggily waking up after last night’s stupor. I loved every second of it – the sights, the smells, the interaction. Africa was great, but here I had found the human element that was so missing from that trip. Mopeds passed me as a ran, and anyone who has been to Europe knows their distinct high-pitched engine whine and their chirping Road Runner cartoon "meep-meeps." Unlike elsewhere, though, these mopeds meandered rather than whizzed by. Overall "whizzification" seems low in the sleepy towns outside Phuket (pronounced poo-kett, by the way), and it’s always nice to soak in that particular form of tropical pace. The standard of living seems quite normal for most here – there are shacks, but also nice houses. And everyone has electricity. The "fizz" of the wires overheard scared me into realizing that. How come wires don’t fizz in the US? Do we have better wires? I spent a lot of the run checking overhead for sparks, though! I also experienced something else interesting – Thailand is, after all, a monarchy, and I was reminded of that one morning when my run was interrupted by loud Thai announcements broadcast from each telephone pole. Each pole (or every few) in rural areas has an all-weather megaphone attached to the top, and on this particular day (December 4th) they were all spouting out information. The only time I had seen anything like this was a war movie, where the American prisoners are fed propaganda from the megaphones overhead. It was weird, but giving Thailand the benefit of the doubt, I just assumed that it was instructions or announcements regarding the king’s birthday the next day. No one along the road seemed too motivated by whatever was being said, though. Rather ingenious way for the government to communicate with rural areas with no tv’s though, isn’t it? I also spent a day on my own wandering through Phuket town, something else close to impossible in Africa. I walked the streets, greeted people with "sawadee khap" and a smile, and took tons of photos. People loved the digital camera, because I could show them the photo I took of them right after I took it! While exploring, I stumbled across my first temple, Wat Putta Mongkon, and would have kept going were it not for the cheerful "Welcome. Please come in!" sign on the front steps. Inside was a huge statue of Buddha, a picture of the king, and a series of candles and offerings. The rest of the room was completely empty. A sprite-like monk smiled and offered his warm welcome and hellos, and I stood there taking in the statue and the peace of the place. It truly was a tranquil, peaceful haven from the chaos and bustle outside, and I almost shook my cynical head at the warm wafting peace that swam over my body. Gotta be honest here, maybe it was all in my head, but even so, I have never felt that way inside a catholic church. I know catholic churches were built to intimidate people with the "mystery of god and the heavens," but maybe they should take a page from the Buddhists. What a warm, glowing experience. Outside the temple was a small garden, and small signs were posted to the tree. They held quotes in thai and translated into english. Simple phrases like "seek simplicity" and "avoid anger" and "anxiety shortens life" and such. One struck me like a ton of bricks, though: "Clean, clear, calm," it said. "These are the characteristics of a noble person." How perfect. Clean, clear, calm. It was how I felt inside that temple, and how I want to feel for good. Words to live by. From the temple, I had to make it back to the bus stop, but I had time enough for a quick lunch. I stopped in a nearby restaurant that had no tourists of any kind inside. Expecting someone to stop and help the obvious foreigner, I stood and watched the swirl of activity around me. I was summarily ignored. How cool! It’s a great thing, sometimes, to not be considered a tourist. Finally, I caught the set-up and made my way over to the ordering counter. Still I was ignored and people shouted orders over me, despite my standing a full foot taller than anyone in the place. I stood at the counter, completely vexed until I yelled to the waiter "hey, I need to order" and bumped a few people out of the way. Ahhhh, respect! That brought a big smile from him and a "what can I get you, sir." I just had to earn my place in line! I order a seafood curry and the waiter arched his eyebrows. "Spicy…" he warned. "No problem," I countered with the confidence of a Buffalo Wing expert. We have words like "Extra Hot", "Suicide Hot", and "Atomic Hot" in the States. Those adjectives give you fair warning. In Thailand, they just say "spicy" and I thought I was ready for it. Wrong. I took one bite and I broke out sweating and my face puffed up like a balloon. It was delicious, but I wasn’t sure if it was the food or the fact that I couldn’t feel my tongue anymore. In 10 minutes I went from "clean, clear, calm" to "sweating, gagging, and burning." When I went up to pay the waiter grinned at me. "Spicy, eh?" Damn straight, spicy. Put a warning label on that stuff! I learned a valuable lesson. Never underestimate Thai food!
After a couple of days at our hotel in Surin, north of Patong Beach, we were off for a real adventure. 5 nights aboard the MV Sai Mai, a live aboard dive boat bound for the Similan Islands. The Similans are a distant cluster of nine islands ( I think similan is thai for nine) that are regarded as some of the best diving sites in the world. If you want to check a map, look at the Burma, Thailand coastal border, and look left from there. You should see the cluster of islands somewhere in there. Cathy and I had never spent 5 days on a boat, but we thought the promise of incredible, difficult to reach dive site would be worth it. It was. We had a blast. Not just the diving, too – the boat culture and experience was hilarious. We were so out of our league. Our boat was full of dive-and gadget-crazy Germans. These guys ate, drank, and slept diving. The nearest metaphor I can muster is to imagine yourself spending 5 days with a Winnebago full of "trekkies" as your travel from Star Trek convention to Star Trek convention. They were all great people, but I think they each might need to develop other interests in life, know what I mean? The diving was world-class, though, at least based on our experience to date. We saw 20 foot Manta Rays, Devil Rays, Leopard Sharks, Lionfish, Scorpionfish, Moray Eels, barracuda, tuna, wahoo, crabs, lobsters, etc, etc. I hope to post some of my dive photos soon – I had a waterproof digital camera with me. We saw it all, and learned a lot about diving from the nutty Germans. Also, it was tough at times – 4 dives a day takes a toll on your body. But the Germans would pop out of the water, start dragging cigarettes and drinking beer like it was nothing. And while each one of them was pudgy to flabby to obese, they each lasted twice as long underwater as I did. And I’m supposed to be in shape! Incredible. One other observation about life on a boat – why aren’t humans immune to sea sickness?? Can anyone answer this? As kids, we are rocked to sleep constantly by our parents. You would think we develop a love – a craving even – for a rocking motion in later life. But noooooo…we get sea sick. What’s up with that? Is there a doctor in the house? Can anyone explain this to me?
From the dive trip, it was back to the mainland for one short day, then back out to the water. We had 3 days of sea canoeing and kayaking through the limestone islands of Phang Nga Bay, northeast of Phuket. In between kayak day trips, we stayed on a small island named Ko Yao (ko is thai for island), which was one of the most charming, simple, and comfortable places I’ve ever stayed. We loved it. It was around this time we started to really fall in love with Thailand. Another great island, another great hotel, more great people. We realized that our first few days were not an anomaly, but the norm. Thailand is a wonderful place, and it has it all. Kayaking through the limestone islands was stunning. The only way to do it justice is to upload some photos when I can. If you saw the Bond films "Tomorrow Never Dies" or "The Man with the Golden Gun," though, then you’ve seen these majestic islands. They jut up from the mossy green bay water like the rotten, jagged teeth in our boat captains mouth (sorry for that image, but true). The limestone walls are covered with crawling vines and cactus, and each one harbors a "hong," a secret lagoon within the island itself. The islands, if viewed from the top, are donut shaped, and where the waves erode the outer walls, some caves have formed. At low tide, you can canoe through the caves into these silent, untouched temple-like lagoons. Not a sound makes it in from outside, and what’s left is insects and birds, and the splash of your paddle echoing off the surrouding walls. It would be cliché to call these lagoons magical. Rather, they were sacred. Being inside them reminded me of being inside the temple in Phuket. Clean, clear, and calm. Paradise, in a secret little lagoon…
Gotta leave it there for now – internet time is up… I’ll resume from Bangkok in a week or two – off to Burma next where there’s no internet access!
All the Best,
Ben (& Cathy)
December 15, 2002