links for 2007-05-17
Posted by Adam on May 18th, 2007
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World Hum | Travel Dispatches from a Shrinking Planet
An aggregate of travel blogs
To the Island
Posted by Jessica on May 17th, 2007
Hi friends. We’re back home in Korea now, but I’m still posting my writings from our trip to Thailand. There will be a few more segments in the next couple of days. We will have pictures on our photos page very shortly. Enjoy.
In this segment, we are finally leaving Bangkok to head to our island destination of Kho Pha Ngan.
“Sawadeekaa,” a girl greeted us and asked to see our receipt. She handed us two tickets and stuck a red sticker on each of our shirts, below our left shoulders. She worked through the crowd until each traveller had the obligatory red sticker. We passed our bags to be packed under the bus then filed to the top level to be seated in twos.
The driver passed around a clip board as the bus began moving. We filled in our passport info and saw that we were indeed a diverse group– Germans, French, Swedes, Finns, Dutch, Indians, Danish, South Africans, and just us the Americans. Everyone chatted in their language with their seat mates, and I felt jealous that I couldn’t understand anyone, but they could understand me. I need to learn another language. I’m grateful to have grown up speaking English– it’s a difficult language to learn, and I can use it almost anywhere. Still, being a native English speaker, I’m lazy to learn another language. Which one should I learn? I really want to be bilingual. I’ve had the most exposure to Spanish– I could pick that up well. I think I shall.
So the bus bumped into the night: lights too low to read, bathroom too scary to use, bilingual pairs too intimidating to talk to, leg room too cramped to sleep comfortably, earphones in the bag under the bus, so no music to listen to. Hours later, near midnight, we stopped at an open-air convenience store with tables to a 45 minute break. Adam downed a beer to help him sleep, and I dreamed of some NyQuil. We chatted with a Dutch couple who had been touring Southeast Asia for 8 months ad would be headed home in three weeks. She was a caseworker at a prison for the mentally ill and schizophrenic, and he was a prison guard. “And what do you do?” they asked. Umm, I teach english at a theme park, and my husband is an artist and student. Cool.
Back on the bus, we bumped down the Thai highway until we finally reached the port town just before dawn. We unloaded again to wait two hours until we could ride one more bus to the ferry. Each of us zombies sat at tables staring into space, nodding off. At 7:00 a.m., I had 30 more minutes before we would head to the ferry. I got up to walk around.
Across the street was a large gold temple radiating in the dawn sun. I took off my shoes and walked the circumference. The wet pavement on my bare feet, the fresh morning breeze, and the quiet were refreshing, and I finally woke up. A cat approached me, and I scratched his ears for a few minutes as he contorted his body in delight. I walked on, and my new friend the cat followed me back to my shoes and to the gate.
It was time to go. We were corralled into a bus that promptly broke down five minutes from the ferry port. We waited on the road side just moments and then in fast-forward, we boarded a new bus. Finally, we reached the nearby ferry pier. We showed our tickets at the hut and received a pink sticker that we stuck on our chests just beneath our red bus stickers.
The sun beat down from a bright blue sky, but we were immediately cooled by the breeze off the water. We filed from the rickety pier across the plank onto our two-storey ferry. First dropping our backpacks within the holding gate on the rear deck, we followed the flow of people into the lower seating area. As we were seated, we watched the pier drifting away from the window. Our molded plastic chairs were no way to enjoy our passage to the island. The sun and wind called us forth.
Drawn by the beautiful morning in the water, we climbed back up the narrow staircase to the front deck. A handful of other travelers had claimed their patch of sunny real estate on the deck. We found our spot, leaning against the slanted outer wall of the cabin. Adam took off his shirt and wadded it up as a pillow. I hiked my skirt above my knees, tucked it under my thighs to keep from flying away in the wind, and draped my legs over the side of the boat. I leaned against the wall beside Adam, and lulled by the humming boat and the steady warm wind, we fell asleep.
“Where was your sunscreen?” you may ask. In our backpacks on the rear deck, of course.
We woke up a couple of hours later as the ferry approached the first stop, Kho Samui, the island just south of ours. Feeling a little parched and hungry, we migrated back to the plastic chairs below deck. We chugged down water, at a ham sandwich from the concession stand, and made faces at a beautiful French toddler with blonde ringlets.
Soon we were coming to port at Kho Pha Ngan. I smiled at Adam and noticed that his face was a little pink. “You got a little sun.” He said that I looked rosy too, and we happily climbed up to retrieve our bags. Swinging my backpack onto my shoulder, it felt a little tender. Ouch. My shoulders were pink too. As the ferry pulled up to the pier, the taxi drivers began their typical frenzy, calling dibs on the travelers before we were even on the island. “Hey! You’re with me!”…
-Jessica
Day in Bangkok
Posted by Jessica on May 12th, 2007
 Installment three of our wanderings in Thailand.Â
 
I awoke keenly aware of the peaceful morning and the love of my husband. We had some toast and tea on the patio and packed up for the next part of our journey. Since the bus to the island would pick us up from our guest house at 5:30, we stored our bags with our new friend at the reception desk and headed out to explore.
Just beyond Khao San Road, we peeked through a gate to see art vendors in a courtyard. We had accidentally discovered the National Arts Gallery. In the center was a sculpture exhibition, several artists’ meditations on Buddhism and its life in Thailand. Lots of figures in full lotus position, hollow bodies, life cycles, and eggs symbolizing rebirth, I suppose. My favorite was a massive, rugged wood stump with faces, horses, hands, carved into the fabric of the knots so naturally, they looked as though they had grown in that way. A little more wandering led us to the main gallery that encircled the courtyard. There was a lot of variety– bronze sculpture, portraits, paintings that were traditional, modern, abstract, figurative. Beautiful work.
Next, we caught a taxi to the north of Bangkok to the weekend market which was, for a non-shopper like myself, hell. Close, crowded, stiflingly hot, labrynthine, this was shopping to rival the wildest markets in Seoul. It was the first place we had gone in Bangkok where there were mostly Thai people. And were there ever Thai people! It was a fascinating sight but beyond overwhelming. We bought a few gifts, chugged out way through four water bottles, and could handle no more of the market. For the experience, we walked through the adjacent park to the BTS Sky Train station. We rode the smoothe route above the city to the Siam Station. A cheap taxi delivered us back to the now familiar home-to-travelers, Khao San Road.
With the few remaining hours until departing for the island, we went wandering again for food and for a book for Adam. retracing some of the alleys from the night before, we observed the perks of a warm climate culture: people walkig everywhere; all ages and types sitting on curbs, front stoops, car hoods, watching the world go by; buildings with only partial walls that flowed into and out of the street, inviting anyone to stop by and stay a while.
I must also mention the dogs. You probably know how I love dogs. Well, I love Thailand. Stray dogs are everywhere, napping under cars, following you as you shop, scavenging beside food vendors, trotting down the road. Dogs are everywhere. I know strays are bad for a city: they spread diseases to the other animals, they’re dirty, they erproduce like rabbits, yadda yadda yadda. Whatever. I love dogs, and they’re everywhere in Bangkok and the islands.
So, we wandered, pet a few dogs, took some photographs, and found our late-lunch spot. Little India, the best meal I have had in as long as I can remember. If you’re in Bangkok, go there. It’s down an alley close to Khao San Road, near a book shop. It’ll change your life. We ordered two samosas and a vegetarian thali plate with naan. And then, we waited. And waited. While we waited, we watched the British soccer game that was blaring on the TV mounted in the corner. Manchester vs. Manchester. Manchester won by one, even without Beckham. We still waited. Why were we waiting so long? Because the Indian guy in the sweltering kitchen behind the glass door was making our meal from scratch, just for us.
First, he brought the samosas. Huge and heavenly with perfect chutney, we devoured them in ecstacy. A little more waiting finally brought our host/ waiter/ cook/ Indian man to us again with our thali and fresh-made naan. We savored and groaned through the lentils, spinach, subji, and rice. Topped off with a sweet dough ball, rasgulab, it was unbelievable.
The book store didn’t offer Adam what he was looking for, so we ventured back to Sambara, ready to catch our bus south. A few minutes in the lobby with our nice host, and in came a spritely Thai guy in a red tee-shirt to take us to our bus. We heaved our backpacks on our shoulders and followed the fast walker to the other end of Khao San Road, stopping once at another guest house to pick up two tall Swedish girls. Red Shirt Guy led us to a double-decker bus where a larg group of travelers had congregated, almost all in twos.
-Jessica
more soon… heading to the island
(note… all the photos we’re using in these Thailand posts are borrowed images. We’re taking some great photos, but we’ll upload them when we get home.)
First Impressions
Posted by Jessica on May 11th, 2007
Adam and I are enjoying out laid back beach week.  Here is another installment of my writings about our trip. Enjoy!
 
Thailand feels good. Immediately the airport felt like a sigh. It was clean, wide open with vaulted draping ceilings high above. Spindly Thai Buddhas greeted us, monks boarding planes. Colorful panels of abstracted traditional Thai art led us to the baggage conveyor. Real potted orchids encircling the conveyor told me that Thailand was happy to see me.
Skirting the desparate taxi drivers, we found a cheap, easy bus that would take usto Hao San Road, backpacker heaven. For the ride, we bought a snack of dried tropical fruit– mango, pineapple and papaya. Adam rightly observed, “This tastes like sunshine.” We watched Bangkok, met Thailand through the bis window as we rolled by. It looked a lot like Southern California and Mexico to me. It felt good. There were beautiful parks of palm trees, shanties of corrugated metal upon corrugated metal, markets whose smells could almost penetrate the bus. And the king… Long Live the King, on billboards, banners, buildings, signs emblazoned with the red and gold slogan. The king, looking awfully stoic to be the beloved patriarch of “the land of smiles.”
We arrived at Khao San Road early in the afternoon. The stands and backpackers were plentiful but nothing too extraordinary. Adam said, “wait until tonight.” As though he knew, Adam turned down an alley to the Sambara guest house we had reserved for the night. Surrounded by noise, bustle and decay, the Sambara courtyard felt cozy, quiet, safe, hung low by palm trees, built around with dark wood, made sacred by a tinkling fountain and lazy goldfish bigger than the prowling stray cats. We took off our shoes.
“Sawadeekap,” the gentle young man at the desk greeted us. We noticed a chart with bus/ferry fares to various islands, and we asked his opinion for our week ahead. Our only priority for the day was to book our travel to the island the next day, and it couldn’t have been easier. He convinced us that our week would be better spent on the island of Kho Pha Ngan as opposed to Kho Chang as we had planned. In 2002, Adam spent a few cloudy days in a hut on Kho Chang and wanted to share the experience with me, but our host friend sold us on more beautiful beaches and views as well as a more interesting nightlife. He would have someone pick us up right there the next evening to take us to the island. Great!
Now, we had 24 hours to burn in Bangkok. We ventured out into the multiplying throngs of vendors, travelers, hippies, beach bums, lady-boys, pot-heads, Swedes, Germans, Israelis, Brits, Thais, and Americans (though none confessing to be so). We perused stands and shops selling sarongs, lighters, pad thai, fisherman pants, hippy bags, dred lock extensions, bootleg music, everything. We agreed not to buy anything on our first night.
The wind had picked up, and as we reachedthe end of the street, it began to rain. To the left was a posh hotel restaurant with fountains and covered dining. To get out of the rain, we decided to splurge on an “expensive” Thai meal that cost us the equivalent of $10 American. Wow. Adam pointed out one of the servers who was a “lady-boy”. That is what Thais call transgender guys. Transgender people aren’t uncommon in Thailand. Adam and I guess that it is because Thai people are somewhat androgenous naturally. Theirs is the only language we’re aware of that modifies word endings based on the speaker’s gender. If not for androgeny, why else would a language be built to always say, “Hello, I’m a woman– Sawadeekaa,” or “Thank you, I’m a man– kapkunkap“?
Bellies full, rain subsided, Thai peculiarities solved, we ventured out again. Each road led into another interesting alleyway to another crowded alley to another busy street. We found ourselves on a main street with police patrolling every 20 meters. At first, we thought they were just helping with traffic until an eerie stillness had fallen. One side of traffic had frozen still, and the lanes closer to us had been completely cleared. People lining the curb were not waiting for a bus but for some kind of parade. We asked a foreign couple, and they said the king was going to pass by. We ducked into the 7-11 for some cold drinks, and we almost missed the monarchal motorcade passing as we emerged from the store. A few black Mercedes Benzes swept by flanked by motorcycles with flashing lights, and then traffic resumed as before. Long live the king.
The sticky heat was almost unbaerable, and Adam and I cursed our thick curly hair. He spotted a barber shop advertising 100 Baht haircuts, and there was no question. As Adam shed his shag, I flipped through a magazine and found my perfect summer haircut, a good 5 or so inches shorter, nice and layered. I took the chair, and the lady went to town, laughing at Adam as he crooned about his new girlfriend. My hair fell like molted feathers. I was a new woman. No longer yanking, twisting, pulling, clipping it out of the way, this hair could just be. Wonderful. We meandered through the sticky hoards of backpackers with a new spring in our step.
Next stop, the Hippy Hi bar for smoothies. Like a girl, I cried to Adam, mourning the loss of my long hair and therefore my feminitity. (The heat and exhaustion from a long day in a new city may have had something to do with my tears as well– just maybe.) Adam assured me again that he loved me and found me moderately attractive, and back at the guest house, under the ceiling fan, accompanied by the song of stray cats outside, he showed me that he meant it.
-Jessica
more soon…
Comedy of Errors
Posted by Jessica on May 8th, 2007
Hello again from Thailand. One thingI love about traveling is that I have more time to write. I’ve been writing free-hand about our trip, and I thought I’d take this lazy afternoon to share a little with you. This first installment is about the adventure we had getting here, but there will be more to come about the good stuff…
Sunday, May 6, 2007– Bangkok, Thailand– Sambara Guest House
Perfect. Waking up, white sheet rustles my legs, dancing in the breeze of the ceiling fan. The fan beats a percussive whisper, somewhere rain or maybe a shower pat a pat a pats, birds whistle and twit twit twit, the alley cats of Siam cry at the clang jostle clang of the tuk tuk bouncing down the alley beneath our draped window. My love mumbles and rolls closer to me, arms grasping my waist and leg. Blinking, sleepy eyes see the morning glow on the soft yellow walls. The bamboo lamp reminds me of the beach destination ahead of us. Conscious of the lightness on my forehead, around my ears, I remember my new 100 Baht haircut (about $3 American), the perfect cut for this perfect time.
Outside now for some tea on the patio, I discover a fountain flowing onto ancient goldfish. Over stepping stones, a smiling young Thai girl carries plates of fresh toast to us. A saucer of strawberry jam makes my breakfast complete. Duelling cats in the alley. This is perfect.
After yesterday morning’s comedy of errors, I had my doubts. We overslept 45 minutes after only four hours of sleep. We were packed already, so we hurriedly dressed and called our taxi. He took us easily to Geumcheon Station. Stepping out of the taxi, we watched our bus pull away. Our bus, the 3000 would take us all the way to the Incheon Airport Terminal– a korean friend from work recommended this bus. Koreans are unbelieveably fatefull with directions, but this girl is really sharp, and she’s one of the only ones whose navigation I’d trust. Adam was angry that we missed the bus and considered taking a taxi to Ilsan, but where would we catch the bus in Ilsan? He bought a nasty sweet roll from the Family Mart that I stuffed in the overflowing trash can. A 5000 bus passed, and we thought “should we have taken that one?”
Twenty minutes’ wait delivered us another 3000, and we enthusiastically flagged it down. The driver asked us, “Odi?– where?”
“Incheon, please.”
“Odi?” and he made a hand signal like an airplane.
“Yes!” we responded.
“No! Oh-chunn– 5000 bus.”
“No!” we argued. He stepped out of the bus to get a drink at the Famliy Mart, and we aggresively pointed at the bus sign showing Incheon Terminal. Resigned, he waved us into the bus, nearly shourting as he lectured us about what we couldn’t guess.
Finally on the bus, Adam and I surmised about why the driver didn’t want to take us to the airport– he didn’t like foreigners, his shift was almost over, he wanted to be alone with the one other woman on the bus. We couldn’t imagine. I felt uneasy. We checked the time. Planning to be on the bus by 5:30 a.m., we were now on a roll at 6:30. The friend who shall remain nameless had said the ride was 60-90 minues long. Maybe at the early hours of morning, we could catch a fast wind to the airport. We needed to be there by 7:30 or 8:00 to catch our 9:30 a.m. international flight.
We passed through Ilsan, and I noted the Kintex building where our friend Angela said she was catching the airport shuttle. The bus was cheaper, and we only had to taxi the short distance to Geumcheon, so it seemed better. Driving, driving. Adam fell asleep, but it was okay because I began seeing signs for the airport. Signs, more signs, and then we exited the highway. It was about time, too, nearly 8:00. The bus weaved for forever through streets and morning traffic until most of the other passengers had gotten off. Finally, I saw a sign for terminal parking, and I woke Adam up. Where was the airport? The bus turned into the parking lot, and I saw it… Incheon Bus Terminal. Oh no! 90 minutes from take-off, and our bus was coming to nest not at the airport, but at the central bus hub of Incheon. So that was what the bus driver was yelling at us about. Adam began his tyrade about another case of bad directions from a Korean as we grabbed our backpacks and dumped our into the sea of buses and people waiting for buses.
It was time to bite the bullet and take a taxi. We were already in Incheon, so the cab shouldn’t be too much, should it? We ran across the courtyard and waved a taxi. We made an airplane zoom with our hands, and the driver nodded. “Bali bali!– Go fast!” we told him, 60 minutes before take-off. Driving, weaving, driving, speeding back to the highway and signs for the airport. Phew. What a fisco. The meter began ticking up, up, up. Airport 17 kilometers. Up, up, up.
“Which terminal?” One, please. As the meter approached 35,000 Won ($35 American), he pulled to the curb at 8:50, 40 minutes to take off. Adam handed him 40,000 Won, and the driver waved us good bye as he cleared the meter. Adam burst as he cussed and demanded our 5,000 Won in change. The driver started screaming back in Korean. We pointed at the meter, but it was zeroed out. The driver dug for 5,000 Won, waved it at Adam, then refused to give it to him. We slammed out of the taxi and burst into the airport. Our check-in was on the other end. As we ran, I panted that if the law of attraction is true, we needed to release the terrible morning and welcome good fortune for the rest of the journey. Adam laughed, “At least our counter isn’t the very last one.” That’s more like it.
We got in a line that was frozen still. I ducked out to the no baggage counter where there was no line. My bag had to be checked because of its weight, but the woman’s eyes grew large as she saw the time of our flight. We waved Adam to us, and she checked us in. “Your flight is boarding now.” We flew through security with no trouble at all (it’s easy when you’re not lugging your computer). Moving walkways sped us to gate B33, and the line was just forming to board the plane. Sigh. Perfect. With assigned seats, we didn’t have to stand in line, so I took a much-needed bathroom break, and Adam ran to the Dunkin Donuts.
On board, we napped and dined on fishy airplane food. The screen reminded me that Thailand has rich culture, not just great beaches. I watched the window with expectation…
…next time, First Impressions…
-Jessica
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Safe and Sandy
Posted by Jessica on May 7th, 2007
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Hello friends. We are safe and happy in Thailand. We had a great day in Bangkok shopping around and seeing a few sights. We even happened upon the Thai king driving by (we didn’t see him, just his car). We did a little more asking around and decided to come to Kho Pha Ngan instead of Kho Chang. After an all night bus ride and a few hours on a boat, we have just arrived on the island. Lounging in the sun on the front of the boat has given us the first bit of pink on our shoulders and foreheads. Now we’re heading to check into our hut on Leela Beach.
Have a great day. We’ll do the same.
-Jessica
Beach bound!
Posted by Jessica on May 5th, 2007
Yes, these are the essentials for an island vacation in Thailand.
We’re getting up at 5 a.m., four hours from now, to head to the airport. Guess what we’re not bringing… our computers! That’s right folks, the cyber geeks are taking a week-long hiatus from our beloved iBooks. That’s not to say we won’t seek out an internet cafe once or twice, but we’re going to be heavy on the books and beach and light on the lighted screens. We’ll be in Bangkok one night and then off to the island of Kho Chang for a week, seeking accommodations in a $4 a night beach bungalow that has limited electricity and lots of island character. Can’t wait!
See you on the other side. Sawadeekaa (bye in Thai).
-Jessica
Military Week
Posted by Jessica on May 5th, 2007
I had so much fun with my military students this week. In my homeroom class, I had 16 Marines and 13 Air Force, including two seasoned Colonels and one female engineer. It was a great class, and we had a lot of fun together even when the Marines were lazy and hung over from late nights at the EV pub. They loved playing English games like “3 Truths & a Lie” and “Stop the Bus”, and they competed fiercely for my coveted Winnie the Pooh stickers (who would have guessed?). Yesterday, I brought them cookies for afternoon homeroom because they were such a good class. Today was especially fun as they had their final presentations in drama class. There were renditions of a cross-dressing Snow White and a Korean folk tale in which an angel falls in love with a wood-chopper.
This was a great way to spend the week before vacation.
-Jessica
links for 2007-05-03
Posted by Adam on May 4th, 2007
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Tons of house music Internet radio stations.
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Dirkon - The Paper Camera [pinhole.cz]
Czech paper pinhole camera. Fun.
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Kurt Matthew Simonson: Photography
Long Beach photographer, teacher and cool guy.
KoreanKwerks.5
Posted by Jessica on May 3rd, 2007
Apartment Forests
With the huge population and economic boom that has taken place in South Korea over the last 30 years, Koreans have flocked into the cities, abandoning the generations-old family houses and farms in favor of apartments. With space at such a premium in this growing country– Korea is only slightly bigger than the American state of Indiana–, apartments are built in mass-produced high-rise apartment communities. Each community is built with its own small park, market, elementary school and other neighborhood shops. It is common that children will stay with their parents in their apartment until they get married and move into a new apartment with their spouse. Almost every Korean that I know lives in an apartment.
Annie said that these apartment communities are known as Apartment Forests. They look like it.
And they keep building more.
-Jessica
See more KoreanKwerks.
