You Know You Are A Traveller When…

Found a great thread on a Bootsnall Forum so I picked out the ones I could relate to and added some of my own.

You know you are a traveller when:

you spell traveller with two l’s. (Every other English speaker in the world uses the British spelling.)

you know what a “gap year” is. (Year between uni (university) and career in Britain, Australia and New Zealand.)

you smile silly to strangers back home and want to know where they come from

you rehearse what to say before going into the post office at home, then realize that they speak English there

you actually don’t mind Nescafe coffee anymore

your friends email, and the opening line is, “Where are you now?”

you are home from Mexico long enough to remember you can put the toilet paper in the toilet…and then you go to Asia…

going into a McDonalds means a clean bathroom and a sit-down toilet

you carry toilet paper with you at all times no matter where you are.

you have “toilet money” in your pocket just in case.

You’ve mastered ‘the squat’ and the bucket of cold water in the bathroom

the idea of a bathroom in your own private room makes you feel like you’re in the lap of luxury.

you prefer to crash on somebody’s floor or stay in a Motel 6 even if you could stay in a 15 star hotel because that’s “just not you.”

you feel guilty about 3 quick showers a day in 95 percent humidity in Asia when all you hear on the TV is news about the lack of food and water all over the world

someone asks what your favorite country is and your mind goes blank.

your conversations with friends include “when i was in…” or “oh yeah, that happened to me in……” and then the veil comes down over the eyes.

You have to fight the urge to say ‘Sawadee Kap’, or ‘Gracias’ to store clerks when you’re back home.

your backpack never quite seems to make it back into the closet

you wake up in the morning and have to remember where you are

you think a packaged tour is not travelling!

processed cheese and crackers from 7-11 sounds like a great meal especially after two months in China

you feel at home everywhere… but you feel like an alien in your own town

you catch yourself flipping your underwear inside out because you have run out of clean clothes

you can’t figure out how much something really costs without thinking about the exchange rate

you can’t figure out which way to look when you cross the street

you walk in the street at home forgetting you don’t have to watch out for the cracks, holes, telephone poles, phone booths, hanging electric wires or motorcycles on the sidewalks

you are at a party where people are listing off their accomplishments and you’re mentally listing off viruses you’ve survived, cities you’ve gotten lost in, and families you’ve lived with

a hotel (or hostel) room over 20 dollars makes you wince

When you have over US$200 in four different currencies in your wallet and you can’t even buy a coke during a seven hour layover in London’s Luton airport.

you have been listening to non-native English speakers speak marginal English for so long that you start making the same sentence structure errors and then return home and can’t switch back…”what we do today?” or “where you go?”

going days at a time with out hearing English spoken and you begin to forget English words

you return home and remember your life is not on the line anymore in taxis, tuk tuks, sangtaews , trucks, minivans with crazy drivers.

but you return home and driving a car yourself seems terrifying

you won’t eat Uncle Ben’s rice because it doesn’t stick together.

You have more guidebooks than pairs of pants.

You go to a chain restaurant at home and you still feel like a sell-out for not finding a good local place to eat.

you tell someone where you are going next and their response is, “are you nuts?” And you take this as confirmation of a well-made destination choice.

you hear the word “visa” and you don’t even think about credit cards.

your “home” is occupied by people other than you and all your worldy possessions fit into your spare room

you hear people back home tell you that they just spent 45 dollars on getting their nails done and all you can think of is how many nights in a South American hostel that could get you

you find it normal to go out alone

you can’t understand why everybody isn’t travelling

TV news at home is frustrating because of the lack of global input.

you come home from a long journey and people ask “Were you able to find yourself?” And you say, “Yeah, and I think I left it there. I need to go back.”

you eschew shiny new luggage with wheels in favor of your ten-year-old pack which carries the scuffs and dirt of three continents and which you have lovingly repaired by hand.

You look at the clock and think, ‘In Kathmandu, it’s midnight’.

you can finally understand all other English accents…Oz, Kiwi, British, Singapore etc.

you stumble off your flight to the airport McDonalds, and the value meal is the most expensive meal you’ve had in weeks

buying a full-sized bottle of shampoo/toothpaste/etc feels like a “long-term investment.”

you forget you don’t have to brush your teeth using bottled water.

It no longer makes any difference to your body when you wake up or when you go to bed

you know what time is being referred to when the ticket reads “2330”

you spend X amount of money on something (like $550 to fix your air conditioner, let’s say) and think, “Aw man, that’s enough money for a plane ticket to ___________”

you use web sites like Bootsnall, couchsurfing and rideshare and when you explain these to friends they think you are completely nuts to be meeting up with, staying with and driving with complete strangers that you talk to over the internet.

half your backpack is full of your computer, plug-ins, converters, cameras and video tapes and you only have room for two pairs of pants, three t-shirts and your toothbrush.

you hear people talk about how hard and expensive it is to travel and you think “huh?”

you feel like having a T-shirt made that says in six languages “I didn’t vote for Bush”

If anyone can think of any others it would be great if you wrote them in the “comments” section.

‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
‘To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing wax —
Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
And whether pigs have wings

Fun For Young And Old

Young and old revelers hanging off of pickups and sangtaews fling plastic pans of water from a garbage can at the traffic going in the opposite direction. Small children aim at cars and pedestrians alike from the sidewalks. Anyone brave enough to venture into the streets end up drenched many times over…no matter who you are.

But it’s a good thing! Sanuk! Fun! Often motorcyclists and pickups actually pull over and stop to get their blessed cleaning…and a dousing of white talcum powder for good luck from the splashers. The most fun, however, is surprising an unsuspecting target looking the other way.

On April 13th to15 Thailand took a bath…celebrating the lunar New Year…washing away all the events and sins of the past year. Called Sangkran, this is the one time of the year when the normally reserved Thais can release all their frustrations in one big splash. Buddha images are “bathed” and monks and elders receive the respect of younger Thais through the sprinkling of water over their hands…traditionally speaking anyway.

Doug’s wife Luk was not about to miss the fun this year…talking Doug into driving her and her friends in the back of his newly acquired pick-up through the streets of Lamai and Chaweng. But first stop was the 7-ll to get ice for the garbage can full of normally tepid water. Doug and I could hear peels of laughter in the back as Luk and her friends watched the unsuspecting react to the shock of cold water.

But after a few hours of this Doug got tired of dodging traffic so we pulled over and joined a couple young Finns and members of an original Samui family on the side of the road who were watching the scene pass by over drinks and snacks laid out on a metal table. It was great fun pulling a double whammy on the passers-by in coordination with the splashers on the opposite side of the road.

dsc00084.JPGdsc00090.JPG

Two years ago I experienced my first Sangkran in both Vientiane Laos and Bangkok Thailand while traveling with an Australian friend. I must admit, however, that you can get pretty tired of it by the end of it all. And it’s difficult filming all this while keeping your camera safe at the same time. If being “bathed” means what it means here we are starting out the new year as innocent as new born babes.

Koh Samui

I arrived on Samui, an island in the south of Thailand, from Bangkok on tuesday. Doug, my son and his Thai wife Luk found me a lovely quiet hotel with a pool right in the middle of Lamai but back off the street. Of course there was a method to their madness…Luk loves the pool but last night, she hit the bottom and chipped a tooth. She’ll have it fixed in Trang, where she is from, when we take Ting Tong (their Shamitzu) to stay with her mother while we all go to Kuala Lumpur next month. Prices much lower in Trang.

Bought an internet card at the IT Internet Complex up on the ring road so now if I walk up to the 2nd floor veranda of the hotel I can get WiFi reception on my computer. There is WiFi access over much of the island now.

Hard to believe how much Samui has developed since I was here two years ago. And the government has recently eased up on foreign investment after having previously clamped down. But a welcome change from noisy smoggy Bangkok. Blue sky…blue water…eye candy.

Rice Tsunami

The price of rice has sky-rocketed in Thailand to such a degree that gangs have taken to raiding farmers’ rice fields. Some farmers have taken to sleeping in the fields to guard against thefts. One economic advisor on CNN Asia has called it a “rice tsunami.” He went on to say that this has been coming on for some time but people chose to ignore the signs…land crunch…draught…and other factors that are world-wide. And even though there is a draught in the north, local officials in Chiang Mai have decided to release more water from the dams to accommodate revelers during Sangkran next week (the water festival) much to the dismay of the farmers. More on the significance of Sangkran (cleansing ceremony) to the Thais later when I report on being drenched by water with buckets, water guns and hoses…some of it ice water provided by the bars! It’s the hot season so you can imagine how a sudden douse of ice water feels on a hot sweaty body!

Dinner From The Street

Tonight I went out to the street and bought my dinner which I brought back to my room to eat. First, a Papaya Salad with only one little red chili and it’s still hot! 80 cents. The two sticks with small pieces of what we would call pork bacon cooked over coals. 30 cents. Then on to another cart with steamed hot corn which she cut off the ears for me and bagged. 30 cents. Then around the corner to a soup cart where he bagged up delicious hot broth in one bag, my choice of noodles with bits of chicken and leafy green vegetables in another bag, a little bag of chili vinegar and another little bag of chili. 25 cents. For dessert a huge mango for 40 cents. These are Bangkok prices however food prices are going up all over now. On Koh Samui where my son Doug lives, this food would would have been less…except for the soup.  In the countryside even less.

This is enough food for two people. The soup filled up my bowl twice. I will save my papaya salad and mango for breakfast.

Another cost: 11 plastic bags not counting the two little ones with spices.

A Coincidence

Last night I opted for a foot massage at a place where the strong Isan masseuses from NE Thailand are trained at Wat Pho (Temple of the Reclining Buddha). Dating from the 16th century, this monastery in Bangkok began as an open university and is still the national headquarters for the teaching and preservation of traditional Thai medicine including Thai massage.

While zoning out in my reclining lounger, an older American couple walked in. Happens that although they are living in Singapore…he still working for Caterpiller Tractors…they are waiting to retire near Klamath Falls Oregon…the city of my birth and where I went to high school!

Sukhumvit Soi 22 Bangkok

You hardly find a mention of Soi 22, where I usually stay in Bangkok, in the travel guides. Interesting. Not anything here for sightseers really. But good if you live here long term.

The well-dressed tourists in the high end hotels and serviced apartments here must just head off in a taxi because you don’t often see them on the street. The men in the high end hotels are mainly businessmen…many of them Korean or Japanese. Most of the farang (westerners) that live around here and are married to Thais or farangs. Some of them have lived and worked here for 30 years and just retire here. Hardly ever see female farang tourists by themselves, although on this trip I did meet a young Frenchwoman who missed her flight on a layover and was stranded. So here I am with the “boys” and the Thais.

I’m staying in a lovely refurbished room above the Bourbon St. Bar and Restaurant, a family restaurant owned by an American…in Washington Square…behind the Mambo Cabaret.
dsc00081.JPG

The guesthouse is small and they keep good track of me. If you stay a month they give you 25% off the room rate so I am paying 1000 baht (about $31) a night with free breakfast. Most of the people frequenting the restaurant are the male guests upstairs who are here on business (I’m the only woman) or farangs and Thais who live around here. The restaurant serves great Thai and western food including a whole menu of Canjun, Creole and BBQ dishes. Last night I splurged on one-half kilo of the biggest crawfish I’ve ever seen.
Read More

What Now For Thailand?

Prime Minister Samak Sundaravej, who took over after Thaksin Shinawatra, the former PM, was ousted by a military coup after charges of corruption, claimed yesterday that he is being threatened by yet another coup…the result no doubt of political infighting. The military has promised there will not be another coup.

I was in Chiang Mai during the massive rallies in Bangkok. The bloodless coup finally took place while Thaksin was at a UN meeting in New York on September 19 2006 when I was already watching marches by striking teachers in Oaxaca. Thaksin was then exiled to London. But he returned to Thailand a few weeks ago and Thai political watchers are wondering what deals were struck even though Thaksin says he is finished with politics. No one believes it.

In the meantime the opposition to Thaksin has been mysteriously quiet. We have been waiting to see what will happen. Yesterday, the opposition party, PAD (People’s Alliance for Democracy), held a political forum at Thammasat University with several thousand attendees, while outside, Thaksin’s supporters held a demonstration.

But Thaksin still has friends in the government. The PAD has vowed it will stage massive rallies if the government moves to amend the constitution which they believe would protect Thaksin’s buddies…and Thaksin himself who is still facing corruption charges.

From a university student demonstration in Istanbul in the 90’s to win the right for women to wear jibabs, to the tsunami in Thailand when I was in Bangkok in December 2004 and from which my son and his wife barely escaped with their lives in Krabi, to unrest in Thailand before the coup, to a subway strike in New York City when we were living in Brooklyn, to a 7-month bloody rebellion in Oaxaca while I was living there, to immigration rallies in my my home state of Oregon, I wonder what I will next be witness to.

Josh In Beijing

Wanted to post some pictures of menu items created by my son Josh at the One East On Third Restaurant in the Hilton Hotel Beijing where he is the Chef de Cuisine but am despairing of getting menu descriptions from him. So here are a couple of pictures…one of Josh and another of his sous chefs. His wife Amy and I had two dinners there when I visited in January-February 2008…absolutely wonderful…even though I thought I was going to freeze to death during China’s recent hard winter.

p1030564.JPGjosh.jpg

Speaking Of Hope

Mexican journalist and author, Gustavo Esteva, in writing recently about the wrenching repression and resistance in Mexico and the world, draws an analogy:

    The Pot and the Vapor

In the midst of the daily struggle, an image attempting to express what has happened in Oaxaca is now circulating.

Years of fierce corruption and overflowing authoritarianism converted Oaxaca into a pressure cooker above a slow flame. [Governor]Ulises Ruiz added fuel to the fire until the pressure hurled the lid off on June 14th 2006, with the repression of a teachers sit-in. APPO [Popular Assembly] articulated the discontent brewing inside the pot and converted it into transformative action. The ferocity of the federal forces put a new heavy lid on top of Oaxaca on November 25th, but the fire continues. Small holes, that opened in the lid through people’s initiatives, alleviate the pressure, but they remain insufficient. The pressure continues to accumulate and in any moment will hurl the lid off once more. The experiences accumulated in the last year might provide ways to let the pressure escape in a more organized way, but nobody can foresee what will happen. There are too many forces at odds with each other.

Another metaphor can contribute to an understanding of what is coming. More than 35 years ago, in the final pages of La revolución interrumpida, Adolfo Gilly quoted some phrases from Leon Trotsky: “Without leading organizations, the masses’ energy will dissipate, like vapor not contained by a boiler. But be that as it may, what propels the movement is not the boiler nor the piston, but the vapor.”

What is this “real material, invisible and indefinable” that Trotsky calls “the masses’ energy” and compares with “vapor?” In contrast to this, adds Gilly, that material has “sense, understanding, and reason and because of this does not dissipate, like vapor, but endures transmuted in experience, invisible for those that believe that the movement resides in the piston and the boiler (in other words, in the organizational apparatuses), but existing in unexpected subsequent aspects of daily life.”

Oaxaca is still “at full steam”. Part of what was generated in 2006 has condensed itself into an experience and transformed into a behavior: it is in the daily attitudes of many people, who will never return to the old “normalcy.” Another portion of the “vapor” generated yesterday, or that comes up every day, propels many initiatives. And there is “vapor” that continues to accumulate, that raises the pressure and that perhaps is trying to redefine its course once it succeeds in liberating itself from everything still retaining it—which is not a boiler with a piston, but the oppressive lid of the repression that continues: political and police mechanisms blocking off the popular initiative.

The obsession to ascertain who generates that “vapor” persists, according to the prejudice that people can not take initiative themselves. It’s taken for granted that somebody, a person or a group, would be throwing rocks and hiding the hand: it would have manipulated the docile masses and would want to continue doing so. The media constructed their leaders, presenting as leaders people better adapted to the image they were creating to better prepare public opinion to the violent liquidation of the movement. The authorities did the same to organize co-optation and repression; they seem now to believe that the APPO will be paralyzed or at least disabled while those that supposedly lead the movement remain in prison. Similar attitudes have been observed in the left, inside and outside the movement. Those who think that what has happened would be inconceivable without a leading organization, now see it dissolved or weakened and want to renovate it or reconstruct it. Or else, when the absence of real leaders of the APPO is recognized, everything is transferred to the past: that deficiency would have provoked the evaporation of the spontaneous popular outbreak. The popular energy would have dissipated, like vapor not contained in a boiler.

When the question is not about seizing the State apparatuses, but about changing the social reality, the vapor, which continually condenses in experience, operates in its dissipation, spilling itself onto reality. Occasionally adapting itself in boilers and the pistons generated by the vapor itself and used for certain tasks, the vapor can not be contained in “organized apparatuses” nor be driven by “leading organizations”. For those apparatuses and organizations to be relevant and play a role, they should renounce the pyramidal structure, when a web is needed, and they must learn to lead by obeying. Furthermore, they should operate on an appropriate scale, adapting themselves continually to conditions and styles of the real men and women that are always the vapor, the impulse, and those finally determining course and reach of the whole movement.

Mechanical metaphors always fall short of the richness of real social processes. But the pot and the vapor are useful images to observe the complex present situation, in Oaxaca and greater Mexico, when what is most important seems to be invisible.

Then he has this to say about hope:

More than 30 years ago, Ivan Illich observed that, “The Promethean ethos has now eclipsed hope. Survival of the human race depends on its rediscovery as a social force.” [Deschooling Society, London: Marion Boyars, 1996, 105. (First published in 1972).]

In my view, there is nothing about the Zapatistas more important than their contribution to hope. Given the current situation in Oaxaca, Mexico and the world, we are still hoping for the best but prepared for the worst. In our context, hope is not the conviction that something will happen, but the conviction that something makes sense, whatever happens.

San Pablo Etla, Oaxaca Mexico January 2008

(Italics are mine. If the above reads a bit rough in places it is likely due to the best job that the translator from Spanish could do.)