A Beautiful Affair

On July 7th, 2007, I touched down on Taiwan soil effectively starting my stint as an English Teacher in Taipei. On July 19th, 2008 at 4:30 PM, that role ended, thus wrapping up a unique and adventurous chapter in my life. On July 21st, I started a very new, and very exciting, chapter.

My year of teaching went by far too quickly, and the moments were dashed with tender happinesses, bitter losses, and memories full of laughter, smiles, and blurred vision (beer Aunty Vicky!). And in a fashionable style, I would like to recount ten of my most treasured moments on this island.

10) Knee races with Kate on the Beach at Fulong
9) Nights out- Rainbow man, Jeffery and the several rounds, Half-naked Tony, surprise visits by Winter
8) Jiofen with Huiheng
7) Almost getting blown up by the lantern festival in Neihu
6) Having a luxurious hot spring all to myself
5) Eating BBQ snake with Chelsey
4) Thanksgiving dinner at Sarah Jobe's house
3) Water tubing in Kenting with Kate, Amber and Debbie
2) The dinner parties prepared by Kirit and Joanne
1) Teaching my Tuesday afternoon class with Bill, Naomi, Kelly, James, Emily, Jenny, David, Amy, Winnie, Mama Maya, Johnny, Helen, and Jeniffer

The year was marked by extraordinary cultural experiences, phenomenal relationships with close friends, and professional growth as a teacher. In my interview to teach abroad, I was asked about the goals I had for myself and whether or not coming to Taiwan was a good match for those goals. I can say with sincere honesty that I had achieved my personal goals, and surpassed them with roaring vigor.

However, the story does not end here. Taiwanablog shall move forward. Now, it's true, my time here as a teacher has come to an end, but my time here has not finished. Just two days after my last class, I started a new job as Director of Recruiting - Korea for a highly reputable and well-run recruiting company call Reach to Teach. It will be my role to guide teachers who aspire to commit to the great challenge of teaching abroad. Through hard, diligent concentration, business trips to Korea, and careful attention to the last bit of detail, I will be working hard to make dreams come true. At the conclusion of my first day, the same man who interviewed me a year ago asked how the day went. I told him, "I feel like Walt Disney." Being somewhat of a realist (we'll forgive him for that one, seeing as he is British) he responded, "But isn't he dead?"

The opportunity is more than I could ever hope for and thus far, I am thoroughly enjoying each and every aspect of the job. However, I can't help missing the students I have come to know. I think about them often; what they are learning, what they are doing, how their new teacher likes them. In the United States, I worked in the Boston Public Schools as a United Nations Educator and in the State Forests as a Park Ranger. I suppose I will forever be, no matter how hard I try, a real teacher at heart.


From a man who loves his life, loves his job, and loves his students- Michael.

Open Water

After attacking Bangkok, fighting cobras, exploring scorpion infested ruins, hiking waterfalls, spending afternoons with live tigers, and trekking on elephants, I decided I would spend my second week lounging about on the white sand beaches in the middle of the Gulf of Thailand. For those that enjoy the crystal clear waters, the swaying palm trees, and the buckets of liquor, there are two general options. For the most part, tourists head in droves to the town of Phuket to bronze their pasty bodies in the Southeast Asian sun. However, locations like this on the Andaman Coast also bring plenty of rain this time of year, giving the pasty bodies more of a translucent hue. The more adventurous, and consequently poorer travelers like yours truly, decide on the more exotic islands in the Gulf of Thailand.

The largest of the three, Koh Samui, is glitzed out with shopping malls and sunset strips. We left Bangkok to get away from that. The second largest is Koh Phangan with the beaches and sand I was craving. It also came with the Full Moon party and thousands of tourist getting high on illegal drugs. Although the party had already come and gone before I got there, the island is still notorious for its seedy foreigners and party hard style, and something I wanted to avoid as a man looking for rest.


The final island is Koh Tao, or Turtle Island, and is so small it only takes about an hour to walk across the extent of it. There is little to do here except snorkel, dive, and lay out on the beach. Most of the island doesn't have 24 hour electricity meaning I was going to finally be away from the tourists and be able to have my relaxation time. My wake up call came at three o'clock in the morning on our overnight train from Kanchanaburi.

We were warned that trains tend to arrive late. We didn't expect them to mean one and a half hours late. So, at 3:00 AM we watched patiently out the dark window for our stop at Chumpon. Fortunately, we were entertained by the Thai version of the blond guy on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. When we arrived at Chumpon, we were met by the boat company ready to bring us to our island paradise. But not quite yet; we had to wait for one more train. Another hour went by while we were approached several times by this scary German woman trying to get us to stay in her hotel. Eventually she left us alone and the train finally approached, sending at least fifty foreigners to join us. Splendid.


I have always been amazed by the movie selection people choose to show on bus rides and boat rides. For some reason, they think it's a good idea to play loud action movies from the 90's like "Time Cop" and "Hostage Train" while people are trying to sleep. This boat did not do any better in their film selection: "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford". A film filled with sex, violence, and cursing was not really the best choice for a boat filled with families and people puking off the back. Needless to say, this was a disaster ride.

Upon reaching terra ferma, my plans to finally relax on a beach were spoiled by my lust for adventure- I signed up to get my open water diving license. The program was at the Coral Grand, a five star luxury resort right on the beach. If we took the Open Water diving course, we were given free accommodation. A great bargain, we signed up.



The diving was great. The resort was not. First, they showed us our room: a nice five-star bungalow. They said we would have to change rooms tomorrow, but the room would look exactly like this. Oh, how they lied. The next day, we had to clear out to move into the next room. When we reached the lobby, they said the room was not ready so we had to leave our stuff there. I told them it was not safe there, but they said it would be fine. Of course it was not fine, and my nice sandals were stolen. When we finished our training course at the end of the day, we grabbed our stuff and went to the room. I don't know what it looked like before when we couldn't move in, but this place still had dirty bedspreads and beer bottles all over the place. The fun didn't stop there.


While we went out for dinner, they cleaned the room. When we returned, the room was clean with an extra bed for me to sleep on. However, there were no blankets on the bed. I went down to the reception (it was about 8:45 PM) and asked for an extra blanket. They told me that housekeeping was closed. So I asked them if they could just open the door and give me a blanket. They said they couldn't because they were closing in five minutes. Preposterous!!

The next morning, we all left the room and went to our respective destinations- some to yoga, some to diving school. During a classroom break, my friend and I wanted to return to the room. We went to the reception and asked for the key. She said that she didn't have it. We thought our friend must have already come back and got the key so we went up to the room. However, when we found the room to be locked and no one was inside, we returned to the reception and told them that we didn't have the key. They said they didn't have it so they were rather sure that we lost it. We informed them that we didn't lose it, and right before it turned into an argument, another staff member found the key at the reception right where it should be.


I went back to class while my friend went back to use the bathroom. And a funny thing happened when she went back there- the toilet blew up! She went back to reception and told them about the catastrophe and they said they would take care of it. Eight hours later, no one had been to the room so we ended up dragging someone there ourselves. They looked at they toilet, told us they couldn't fix it, and politely informed us that we would have to move rooms, again. So much for my relaxing vacation on the beach. And the trip to Koh Tao would have almost been unbearable had I not had such an incredible experience breathing underwater.


For everything we hated about the resort, the same could not be said about the diving course. First off, we had an enormous Dutch guy named Kim. Go ahead, try to convince him it's a girl's name. But when your sixty feet underwater breathing from a pressurized canister strapped to your back, you'll be glad you stayed on his good side and have a massive European watching your back.


The course began with studying in the classroom. This really was just watching a video and then filling in answers in a book. The second day, we got into the pool and practiced out skills in the safety of the shallow end. With gusto and bravado, we ventured into the deep end. Exhilarating? No. Strange? Most definitely. It was, after all, my first time ever breathing underwater.


Our first open water dive took place at Mango Bay. A shallow dive at 12 meters, this gave us a great introduction into scuba diving. The experience was phenomenal. Going under is a bit nerve racking, but with slow, deep breaths, you can remain calm and begin to float around like a bird in the sky.


An underwater reef is something I thought I would never see. But, for the first time in my life, I was venturing out on excitement in a land I was always too afraid to explore (due to my nasty, obsessive fear over sharks that makes my knees lock and me landlocked)! But there I was, swimming through walls of Barracuda, over marshmallow puffs of coral housing angel fish, nasty trigger fish, sea snakes, scorpion fish... wait a minute, sounds like I have more to worry about than just sharks! But these animals adopt a serious live an let live attitude; they didn't bother us as long as we left their home undisturbed.


At one point, we swam into pretty shallow water. Bobbing along, smiling, laughing (yes, you can laugh while scuba diving), I suddenly noticed the ocean floor getting pretty far away from me. I thought it was strange that the water was getting deeper and deeper until I realized it wasn't getting deeper, I was just surfacing by accident. I realized this when I accidentally popped up back at the surface. I quickly deflated my BCD and joined on with the group feeling a little bit stupid.


We surfaced again, floated to another and went down below to practice our skills. These skills included flooding our masks, pivoting, discarding and retrieving our breathing regulators, and so on. I was doing fine until I had to fully flood my mask. As I did so, a lot of water got into my mask and subsequently up my nose! I coughed a few times and then felt the pangs of panic shooting through my body. Knowing that I was underwater, I had to play a serious mind game: reminding myself that I had a regulator and that I COULD breath. I calmed down, finished the skill, and continued on with the dive.

At the surface, my instructor inquired if I was alright. I told him I got some water up my nose and panicked a bit. He then reminded me that during our dive tomorrow, I would have to practice taking off my mask completely. This was not happy news, and I dreaded it until that moment came the next day.

Our day of diving began at 6:00 AM. We were down at the gear room, with a camera in our faces (yes, the entire event was videotaped very professionally and I do have a copy), cheery and ready to get going. On the boat, our location was revealed to us. We were going to one of the finest dive spots on Koh Tao: Chumpon. On our way there, our instructor told us that, at 18 meters, we may be quite lucky and see some sharks.


"Wait," I had to ask, "how does seeing sharks make us lucky? Wouldn't it be luckier if we didn't see any?" Suddenly, a new fear was taking place of the old fear of taking the mask off. I jumped in the water and said a little prayer that we wouldn't see any sharks along the way. As it turned out, we were lucky.


Going around a bend of the reef, our instructor turned around and put is hand on his head like a shark fin, indicating that there were sharks. I looked out and sure enough, saw seven decently sized sharks swimming about. Following the instructions from the video I watched the day before, I cringed fearfully close to the bottom and waited for the killers to pass by. When they lost interest, we continued on in our trip seeing jelly fish, tropical fish, and the ever elusive and the all too rare flat worm.

Back on the boat, I asked our instructor about the kind of sharks we saw. Still out of breath from excitement, he told us we saw Bull Sharks. Now, I am no expert on sharks, but I did know one thing about Bull Sharks: they are one of the few fish in the world that can swim from salt water into fresh water without any problems. This unique adaptation also makes them one of the most dangerous sharks in the world, ranking up there for most kills along with Tiger Sharks and the notorious Great White Shark.


My entire life I have been terrified of two animals- the shark and the skunk. I have had the image of a mindless killer branded into my mind by Hollywood and legend. But this trip changed all that. I saw these animals in a new light; not as aggressive harbingers of death, but as amazing, beautiful creatures. As I swam with them, with no cages or weapons protecting me, I looked at these creatures and there was no hate or hunger in them. A bit of curiosity perhaps, but there was no danger posed.

I left that water a remarkably different man. I left respecting a creature I was feared and saw in nature not savagery but survival, and as long as stay off the dinner plate, I think I can maintain a much healthier view on these animals.


Oh, and as for the mask removal, I succeeded with only small panic. And with the mask off for one whole minute and cool shades on my face instead, I performed, quite poorly, the Macarena underwater.

The next day, I laid on the beach as originally intended, got sunburnt, took an annoyingly long trip back to Bangkok, checked out the riverside markets of Chachoengsao, met Pote for dinner on last time, and then boarded my plane back to Taiwan. A trip of a lifetime? Perhaps. But one thing is for sure: there will be many more like it and I'm going to try my damnedest to top it.


From your PADI Openwater Scubadiving Licensed adventurer of the high seas, both on top and now down below, Michael.

The Bridge on the River Kwai

If you're like me, you've heard of the film, but you've never actually seen it. Well, now I can say I visited that bridge, rode the death railway, and paced solemnly around the remaining PoW's final resting place, but I still can't say I know the cinematic masterpiece with the same sense of intimacy.

Kanchanaburi is home to an important element of an historical buff's intrigue. But what you might not know, and we certainly didn't, was that Kanchanburi is home to a great deal more than just trains and war. Enough so that our one day stop in the town turned into a four day sightseeing extravaganza.

Our arrival commenced with an impressive dinner at Apple and Noi's Guesthouse, a stunning culinary adventure that comes highly recommended by this traveler with high standards. We topped the evening off with some drinks at an open air bar, with the highlight being three week old puppies roaming the grounds entertaining the customers. And since we had arrived only a few weeks before the start of the second high season, we had the bar, and the puppies, practically to ourselves. We then hit the hay because we had an early start to a busy day tomorrow.

In the morning, we were picked up by Good Times tour (again highly recommended) and we set off for a day of adventure. Our morning began with some elephant trekking. After boarding these massive giants, we set off on a short excursion through the jungle, alternating between riding on the chair and riding bareback on it's neck. The animal was massive and beautiful. The tusks were long and the ears acted as built-in air conditioners. Even its skin had a paper-like texture that I had never seen before. Going through canopied forests and into the swift running river, this was an excellent trek and a sweet start to a brilliant day.

Following the romp on the big guys, we marched down to the river on foot and hopped onto some bamboo rafts. Taken by guides, these rafts moved swiftly down the river. At one point, our guide gave us the go ahead to jump into the water if we wished. Not sure what other animals I would be swimming with in there, I deliberated the offer quite heavily. However, it was a hot day and the water seemed so inviting. I placed my inhibitions behind me and dove into the murky depths.


With little effort, I could swim rather quickly and make it quite far ahead of the boat. Lying on my back or twirling in this aquatic highway was relaxing, calming and above all else, a glorious experience that put me into the very depth of what Thailand is.

After our morning jungle excursions, it was time to attack the real jungle by foot. We drove over to Erawan National Park, best known for its seven-tiered waterfall, and we hiked up to the top in almost no time at all. The trail was nothing like the trails in Taiwan- most times it was a small dirt parth, or a rickety old bridge that had missing boards running across it and bent quite deeply every time you stepped on it.


But the dangers, and confusion, was well worth it because once we reached the top-tiered waterfall, we were away from most of the other day hikers and free to swim in this luxurious, all natural swimming pool. The pool itself was extremely interesting. A mineral was coupled with the water, thus turning all the leaves, branches, or fallen trees in the running stream into rock hard stone. The process must take years, but it was absolutely amazing to see caves and stalactites forming because of this. Ok, finished with the geology lesson, let's move onto the fun stuff. Jumping in, we were greeted by little, and big, fish that ran up to us and started giving us little fish kisses. Couple this massaging action with the pounding pressure of the waterfall, we were in our own little spa au naturel. However, the calm and relaxation ended quite abruptly when we exited the natural pool.


I went over to my shirt and was horrified to see that it was now covered by a swarm of massive jungle bees. I guess my body odor is as sweet as the nectar of flowers. As flattered as I was, I still wanted my shirt back and this was proving to be most annoying. After telling my friends to leave so that they wouldn't get stung, I devised a most ingenious plan.

I waded into the water and found a long branch. Then, standing quite far from my shirt, I used the branch to pick up the shirt and fling it into the pool I was in. Terrified of an impending attack, I through the branch away and dove with lightning speed away from the bees and submerged myself under the water. Again, I was greeted by fish kisses. When I was sure the bees were finally gone, I grabbed my shirt, rung out the water, and descended back down to the first tier of the waterfall where we met to continue on.

An hours drive at this point brought us to the death railway; the start of our historical immersion. We were brought to this old bridge (not the famous one) along a river and cliff side that still kept the old train tracks along with the new train tracks. Next to the start of the bridge was an entrance to an old, massive cave. During Japanese occupation and the building of the death railway, this cave was used to house supplies. Today, it is converted into a temple.


The bridge itself was large and quite honestly frightening. I was surprised it could hold up my weight let alone the tons of moving steel when the train passed over. But hold us up it did as before long the train arrived and we boarded onto it. The train had marvelously ancient appeal: so old were the seats and so humble the furnishings, there was a romantic notion to be riding on this train through the jungle of Thailand along the infamous death railway.


When the train came to a stop, we all got off and drove then to the more famous of the two bridges- the Bridge on the River Kwai. The bridge itself is not spectacular in anyway, but the history surrounding it is by no means ordinary. We walked along the bridge, along with a countless number of other tourists, and all I could help but think was what if a WWII veteran came along, how was forced to build the death railway, actually arrived to find his forced labor and toil was now a very popular tourist attraction. While on one hand, he must be happy to see his story told and his friends not forgotten, but on the other hand, it must be strange to think that where he once suffered is now lined with floating restaurants, souvenir stands, and many foreigners taking lots of pictures.


That night, after the tour came to a completion, we went to the floating restaurant next to the Bridge on the River Kwai and we had an enormous feast as the bridge next to us was glowing in an eerie light; beautiful but honestly, immensely tragic.


Just how tragic, we found out the next day. Our morning began with a trip to the WWII museum that depicted very well the events that transpired here over fifty years ago. We learned about the sheer magnitude of the project, the gruesome conditions of the PoWs and Asians that led to the death of over 100,000 laborers. The museum is located right next to the final resting place of some of those PoWs in an Allied War Cemetery.


A gift from the people of Thailand, the cemetery is kept in immaculate condition and the headstones are equipped with names, dates, ages, and a personal quote like "Duty final served" or "A son dearly loved and sorely missed". It was very difficult for me, especially when men and women are serving with the armed forces just as we speak, to see young bodies buried there who were younger than me. This is a moving, and devastating contribution to Thailand's history and should not be missed by any passerby in Kanchanaburi.


With dark clouds on the horizon, we returned back to the the hotel and prepared ourselves for what we originally came to Kanchanaburi for: the Tiger Temple. At one o'clock, we were picked up by the same tour guide as yesterday (her name is Mickey, by the way, and we LOVED her) and we took off for the Tiger Temple. Upon arriving, we were delighted to see a number of animals, from camels to ostriches, roaming freely around the grounds.

We were then brought down to the canyon were the tigers were resting peacefully. Apparently, the monks who run the temple do not drug the tigers. Instead, they just wake them up really early, put them through a rigorous exercise regime, and then stuff them full of food. And, like any animal, this tuckers out the tigers very much so all they want to do is lie down and relax.


This then becomes the perfect opportunity for visitors to go up to the tigers, sit down next to them, pet them, and get their pictures taken with them. This is by far one of the most impressive photo opportunities in Thailand.

After making the rounds, the tigers are rounded up by the head monk and they are escorted back to their cages. The big male is saved for last. As he is being returned by the head monk himself, we were able to walk along next to him and get our pictures taken with the massive tiger as he was strutting his stuff. However, we were warned that he is a male and he likes to mark his territory. So, just as I was about to walk up behind him, his back tail raised up signaling to me I only had seconds to move out of the way before I became is territory.


The next day we did the cooking class, which again, I highly recommend. I talked quite a bit about this course and the food in my introduction about Thailand, so if you missed it, I highly suggest you go back and check it out. Kanchancaburi is a well-oiled tourist destination that offers fun an excitement wherever you go. We were dazzled by so much that we knew our next destination really had to come with its A-game if it wanted to beat this little town.

And thus I'll leave our next adventures for the next time, and let you instead bask in the jealousy you have for my awesome adventures thus far in Thailand. So until next time, your elephant riding, bamboo rafting, waterfall climbing, mad insect deceiving, cave exploring, death railway riding, historical buff perusing, Thai cooking, tiger charming explorer of Kanchanaburi, Michael.

Ancient Secrets of the Khmer Ruins

In the early planning phases of this trip, I had difficulty choosing between Cambodia and Thailand. (Imagine such a life: having to choose if you are vacationing in Cambodia or Thailand this year, and thus saving the other for subsequent holiday!) My primary purpose of visiting Cambodia was to see the famed Angkor Wat, but of course, my reason for visiting Thailand was visiting the famed Pote. Fortunately, some of the most impressive Khmer ruins in Thailand were not too far from Khon Kaen and thus could be an easy stopover on my way back to Bangkok.

I hitched a ride on a nice bus from Kohn Kaen to a town called Buriram. Again, this place was just as exciting as Khon Kaen, if not, then less so. I didn't waste more than an hour in this city waiting for my bus, and then I was off to a small little town called Nang Rong. Nang Rong is a perfect little location used as a jumping off point to check out the local ruins. At least that is what Lonely Planet made it out to be. Yet for some reason, they provided detailed maps and several options for accommodation for the booming town of boring (Buriram) and offered only direction about Nang Rong that could only be deciphered with a compass.

I arrived late in the evening and I decided on staying at the Honey Inn. Lonely planet indicated that I had to head North from the bus station until I reached the main road where I should then take a right. Soon, it told me, I would see the sign for Honey Inn. Well, "soon" came and went and before long I was totally lost. Fortunately, I stopped at a local restaurant and asked for directions. The owner, being extraordinarily friendly, gave me a ride on his motorcycle- without helmets going the wrong way against traffic. This was the second most horrifying bike ride in Thailand, but more on that later. After winding down a labyrinth of back alley streets, we arrived at Honey Inn no thanks to Lonely Planet.

The beds were comfortable and the rooms were clean and of good value. And the best part was, we were able to hire a taxi from the inn to explore the local ruins. The next morning, two Swiss ladies, a Polish couple, a gal from Germany, a guy from New Zealand and I piled into the bed of a pick up truck that was an hour late and were shuffled off to Phnom Rung.


Built on the summit of an extinct volcano, Phnom Rung is a Hindu shrine dedicated to Shiva that was built between the tenth and thirteenth centuries. As an outlying post to Angkor Wat's grandiosity, it is clearly diminished in size. But, because I had yet to be spoiled by the outstanding Angkor, this marvelous temple was simply breathtaking.

The shrine itself is preceded by an impressive 160 meter long promenade, lotus pillars, cruciform platforms, and Naga bridges symbolizing the connection between Heaven and Earth. A Naga is a seven-headed snake that is supposed to symbolize the seven races of the Naga society. But whatever you believe, the statues and bridges were only a precursor to the ancient temple that was waiting for me at the top of a five-tiered stairway.



The temple was rather packed that day, with an annoyingly large amount of soldiers touring the grounds. I had to wait ten or fifteen minutes at a time to get a shot of the complex without any people in the shot. But the wait was worth it. Enjoy the pictoral and video tour of these impressive grounds.

The entrance way to Phnom Rung.

Once inside, you are presented with the main Shrine, housing sacred dieties.

The most sacred of all symbols was this: Linga. A phallic image used by Shiva.

And for every ying, there is a yang.

It wasn't long before the all the crowds had cleared out and I was given 15 minutes alone with the temple. This gave me some great chances to get some shots without all the other tourists. In addition to my worthy photographs posted above, don't forget to view this short film for an in-depth tour of the ruins.

After about two hours, and a short lunch, we all piled back into the pickup truck and made our way to this small temple of little note. It served as a nursing home for the sick and elderly during the Khmer Ruins. All the same, the remaining foundation indicates an impressive structure once stood among a present-day village.


The equally impressive and well-restored Muang Tam Temple was our next stop on the archaeological (sightseeing) tour. I don't have much information on it except that it was considered the "lower" temple while Phnom Rung, seated atop a volcano, was clearly known as the "upper" volcano.

At the end of the day, we had finally returned from our travel back in time to a land rich in culture and heritage from over 800 years ago. This historical glimpse was a mouth watering morsel of a land hidden away in the forests of Thailand. And while the trip getting there was quite challenging, the rewards were well worth every inconvenience.

From your naga-naga-naga-newhead- Nolan (inside joke), Michael.

The Village of the King Cobra

Fighting King Cobras is not on many career counselors' lists. But for Ban Khok Sa-Nga, it is one of the most esteemed professions in the village. Fortunately, I was present to see just one man earn a buck in one of the world's most dangerous jobs. The men walking around with missing fingers, the walls stocked with traditional anti-venom, and the stories of men who died fighting a spring-coiled creature with enough venom to kill twenty people attest to just how deadly boxing a King Cobra can be.

Getting to this village is not an easy task. First, one has to take a five hour bus ride up to Khon Kaen and take a rest for the night. Since I had gotten in just in time for dinner, I asked around for the best location and it seems like when most locals want to eat out, they go to Bualuang Restaurant along Beung Kaen Nakhon. I arrived to a restaurant situated on top of a pier that had an absolutely exquisite outside dining experience.

When the waiter came over, she asked me what I would like. I said I wanted "Thai food" and I wanted "spicy". Strangely enough, this was the only meal I would receive that actually had a Thai Taste, meaning spicy enough that Thai's would think it was spicy. I ordered a duck with Chinese bread along with a spicy Banana Flower Salad. When my meal arrived, I dug my fork into the strangely presented salad and dropped a good helping into my mouth. This was no five alarm chili- it was a ten alarm nuclear blast in my mouth. The dish was so spicy, tear involuntarily formed in my eyes. And just when I thought I would pass out from the pain, something very strange happened. In America, if you order Buffalo wings, it comes in this strange chemical-like sauce and the burn lasts for quite a while. The spice of the Banana Flower Salad had a much more natural, organic spiciness to it that dissipated from my mouth after less than a minute, leaving me with a sweet, tangy flavor.


Delighted by this, I helped myself to more, albeit smaller, portions of the salad until I consumed the entire dish. I laid back on my a full belly, along the water, and reveled in the fact that I was stuffed, relaxed, happy, and in Thailand. Such bliss.

The next morning began early for me. After a less than restful night sleep (let's just say the chili's got their revenge) I made my way to the bus station and took a one and a half hour journey up to the Cobra Village. The bus let me off at this small dirt road where an old woman was seated in a Tuk-Tuk. She told me it was 30B down to the village and 50B back. I happily climbed aboard her Tuk-Tuk and suddenly, we were off.


I was greeted by the "zoo keeper" and taken to the place where they keep the vast array of different animals. After paying the obligatory donation, I saw pythons, cobras, vipers, anacondas, alligators, tigers and monkeys. To be quite honest, I was a bit disgusted by the state of the cages. They were quite small (especially for the larger animals) and were shoddily constructed. The animals seemed quite agitated or depressed, and to be fair, I don't blame them. After the small tour, I took my seat as the only spectator for the King Cobra boxing match.

A man went on the stage and opened a box. He put a long stick into the box and removed a very large, and what appeared to be a very angry, King Cobra. These matches used to be conducted with Cobras, but since they spit their venom, the fight is now done with its close cousin, the King Cobra. The match was pure spectacle, but also rather frightening. The snake would slither along the stage, raise its head and expand its hood. Then, when the opportunity would present itself, it would strike with a sharp, aggressive blow. The Cobra boxer had two choices at this point. It could either quickly dodge the attack or return it was a defensive smack on the head. This went on for a few minutes before the snake decided to make its getaway.


The snake turned away and started slithering very quickly in my direction. Now this stage was only about three feet off the ground, and there are no cages or walls to keep the Cobra contained in the show. So you can only imagine the panic in my eyes when I saw a very large and agitated King Cobra coming straight for me. First I leaned back in my chair, then stood up, and then was about to dash away when the cobra stopped maybe two yards away. Just in time, the Cobra boxer grabbed the snake's tail and pulled it back on stage. In doing so, the snake whipped around and shot it's head back at the boxer signaling the start of another round.

Again, I was less than enthralled with this spectacle; not because I wasn't entertained or, admittedly, a bit on edge. It was because of the treatment of these animals. Judging by the behavior of the snake on stage, it was agitated only because it was conditioned to be so. After kept in a box, it attacked the boxer and then made several attempts to flee, only to be pulled back by the snake boxer. What's more, to my left was an enormous shelf of souvenir and t-shirts: the very making of a tourist trap. Appalled by the treatment of these animals that were plucked from their environment and placed into poverty-like conditions at the "King Cobra Conservation Project" I refused to give an expected donation. While the show maybe exhilarating, I certainly don't recommend supporting the unethical capturing and taunting of wild animals.

From your snake charmer and King Cobra Kick Boxer of Ban Khok Sa-Nga, Michael.

The Venice of the East

Thus is Bangkok. And while the boats have since evolved into cars that drive "on the wrong side of the road", and most of the canals have been filled in, she hasn't lost her sense of international flair. I arrived into Bangkok late on Sunday night. Fortunately, I was met by my good college buddy, Pote, who also put me up for the night. Aside for letting me sleep at his beautiful home, he also gave me a free ride into town, where I caught the skytrain to the Northern Bus Terminal.

I spent a total of three days out of Bangkok before I made a return. Coming from a town on the Eastern edge of Thailand, I arrived quite late and still had no accommodation set up. Fortunately, I was given a suggestion by a co-worker to go to a certain guest house. Unfortunately, this guest house was situated very close to the red light district (even though the place itself was legitimate). And even more unfortunately, the guest house was full, so I still had to go searching in the interesting part of town. The skin scene (when there is an elephant in the room, it is best to introduce it) is luckily confined to a small part of this district that I did not frequent. However, evidence of the post Vietnam War R&R era is made clear by the hundreds of "friendly" massage parlors with throngs of young masseuses inviting you in, the plentiful number of prostitutes forced to hangout on street sides, and the abundant number of fat, old white men walking around with twenty year old Thai women. Often times, these young women come from desperate situations, and these old men come from loveless backgrounds, resulting in a match made far from heaven. My friend commented to me about this by saying, "I have lived in Bangkok for almost twenty-five years and I am still not used to it."

But if you can stomach the shawdowy undergoing of the section, there are some truly unforgettable international eateries, since the area has a heavy ex-pat base. I was attracted to a restaurant that provides a good ease into Thai food called "Cabbages and Condoms". The restaurant is of high quality and is run by the Population and Community Development Association adjacent to the restaurant. It's all about location, location, location! But in this case, it was also about the chicken served in pandans leaves which are incomparable to any other dish on the island. And to entertain you while you eat, you can check out their display of mannequins dressed in condoms and birth control pills, peruse their listing of safe sex positions, or take you chance on the wheel of STDs. (My first spin gave me HIV and the second gave me vaginal something-or-other.) And in lieu of the traditional after dinner mint, you are given a condom. You can choose between democratic size or republican size, whatever that means.


After a restful night sleep, I woke up and had breakfast. After planning my day, I went to a small museum called the Kamthieng house, which depicts traditional Thai life of the Lana people in the northern reaches of the country. This matrilineal house was built over 150 years ago in 1848 as a combining force between the elements of nature and spirits as a way to honor the ancestors.



Feeling satisfied with my historical experience, I decided it was time to get my hands on Bangkok, or rather let Bangkok get its hands on me, with a traditional Thai massage. I decided on the Marble House, a legitimate, well respected massage parlor not too far from my hotel. I chose a two hour combination of a Thai traditional and oil massage. After a brief shower, I changed into Thai robes equivalent to night time pajamas and sat down in my private massage room. An intimidating, small, and powerful young woman came in and started the massaging process. The experience was rejuvenation and relaxing, until she got down to business.


The woman climbed on top of me and started twisting my arms and legs in impossible directions. As my right arm was pressed in a 360 degree pretzel behind my head, I could still feel the pain from the injury I received at Silver Stream Cave a few weeks earlier. Fortunately, the pain didn't last long, and I was once again in a euphoric sense of rest. When the Thai massage ended, she told me to take off the shirt so she could do the oil. I happily obliged. She then told me to take off my pants as well. I was not as happy, nor was I obliging. I thanked her very much but decided I only wanted the Thai massage. I paid her and moved onto downtown.


I took the sky train to the river, where I took a boat tour along the banks of Bangkok. I got off at Wat Po, a labyrinth serving as home to the world's largest reclining Buddha. Any Siddhartha pictured lying down represents his passing into Nirvana, or death. This massive statue, measuring at 46 meters long and 15 meters high, impresses thousands of foreigners, it seems, each day.


After wandering around Wat Po for sometime, I made my way away from the tourist district and took an overpriced Tuk-Tuk ride to Soi Ban Batt. Down a small street and then down another small street, one will find the delightful Soi Ban Batt away from any foreigners and the home of traditional Monks Bowl crafters. In times before, monks would wanter from home to home in search of morning breakfast. People would then give these monks food, such as rice, filling up both the bowl and their tummies. Today, the majority of monks bowls are produced en masse on an industrial scale, and are used, from what I can tell, as collections of money. But here on Soin Ban Batt, the monks bowls are hand crafted and take about a week's time to produce just one. In my mind, there is no finer souvenir to take back with you from Bangkok.


After my visit to the Monks Bowl Village, I went over to the Grand Palace where I was denied admission on account of my shorts. While a robing room was provided, I opted to avoid this sight and wait for another college friend, and their buddy, who were just so happening to be traveling over from Hawaii at the same time as me. At four o'clock, we met uo and made a voyage over to the Grand Hyatt to meet Pote for a buffet of extraordinary international proportions. I mean there were meats of the highest caliber, cheese trays overflowing, fresh seafood, and cuisines ranging from Asia, Europe, Africa, and the Americas. I haven't had brie with caper berries in well over a year! And being such an exemplary and gracious host, Pote paid for the entire meal. In appreciation, I took him out to Cabbages and Condoms form y final night so he could try the chicken.


While dinner may have been a show-stopper, it wasn't the final course of the evening. After dessert, we made our way to Ratchadamoen Stadium for some Muay Thai, or rather, traditional Thai Kickboxing. When we arrived at the match, we were greeted by a massive, but orderly, protest. It was a testament to their determination that they were standing out there in the rain, but against what they were protesting, once could really only imagine. (If I were to put forward a guess, I would have to say they were calling for more stringent eye examinations for the can drivers.) This provided a minor obstacle because the entrance to the boxing arena was caged off. After circling the building once, we went up to the cage and signaled that we wanted in. The solution was simple: they opened the gate and we walked through. We bought our tickets (absurdly inflated for foreigners) and took our seats just in time to see the main fight.


The start of the fight stands on ceremony. A decorated general walks in with a large picture of the king. The boxers then enter and bow once to the North, then to the East, then the South, then West. Finally, they bow in the direction of their birthplace before the graceful, yet violent spectacle begins.


Thai boxing enjoys a following rivaling that of soccer in Europe. During the last summer Olympics, a Thai boxer took home the gold, and honor of high distinguishing character as he was the only person from Thailand to win the gold that year. He was given a parade with dozens of elephants, a multi-million baht home, a promotion, and monetary compensation enough to last him quite a while. And by judging the crowd's behavior, I could tell this truly was a widely popular and hugely important national sport.


The spectators are divided into three sections. At the back, behind a restraining cage, sits a lively bunch, screaming, standing, pacing, shouting and watching the fight (and their bets) quite closely. The second class, slightly more civilized, gets a view sans bars, but they still share that same sentiment of enthusiasm. Because this is where we were located, we got a good view of this bunch, complete with their betting runners throwing up fingers to the crowd behind, reminiscent of a Thai Stock Exchange. The ringside crowd is a boring of well-to-do blue bloods that barely deserve a mention. But the best seat in the house is right inside the ring, but to be there, you have to be a 110 pound muscular Thai man ready to fight another impressively skinny (but counter intuitively dangerous) Thai kick boxer!

The fight was a majestic dance of punching and kicking. Although violent, watching these two men fight was as much a dramatic undertaking as it was a battle of strength, focus, and stamina. The kicks were forceful and their strikes as quick as the punch of thunder. There really is little one can say to describe the grace and prowess these boxers posses night upon night. Eventually, as the fight reached a climax, and the beat of the tiny, four piece traditional orchestra reached an intensified pace, the winner reigned victorious over his battleground.


With the fight at a close, and the crowd dispersing, we hailed a blind cab to another red-light district for the shopping instead of the go-go shows (which are, essentially, too graphic for me to even mention here). The night markets were full of cheap copies of designer brand products, thus explaining how I came into possession of a 400 baht pair of Armani sunglasses which I like to call my Asian bling.

And since the night was growing old, my feet were tired and my friends were shot from jet lag, the had to come to a close. And following in that fashion, so too must this extensive post. Until next time, your go-go-a-no-no too cool for Asian society sporter of Asian bling, Michael.