Now that we are in a routine, one day seems much like another, but this is always against the background of the excitement and sense of adventure of being in a foreign land. That we always like.
Judy is teaching full time, but despite the pleasure teaching brings, she might like to be somewhat less busy. I still have more free time on my hands than in a perfect world but an trying to reduce that. All together we are enjoying things.
Our friend and great Thai fan, Karen Click, from Dallas is visiting her “Thai family” with whom she stayed for a summer years ago. While in Thailand, Karen is coming to see us in Khon Kaen for a day next week. We look forward to that.
Judy and I have joined a fitness club in the Sofitel Hotel. It has a great pool, pictured above, and there’s nothing like a few minutes in the water in this weather. We have also begun a weekly aerobics class. Aerobics is a little different here. Rather than using step boards like in the US, they do mini dance routines at a very fast, sweat-dripping hup 2,3,4 pace. Judy and I both enjoy the aerobics. Then there are the free weights and machines, and various treadmills and elliptical walkers and sauna (as if Thailand itself isn’t a sauna!). We’ve met a few young American teachers at the fitness club.
We are still enjoying Thai cuisine. The picture with the stalls and palms shows the outside of an excellent beer garden and restaurant. We’ll eat there when Olivia and Aaron come for Christmas. Too bad that it is located just outside the Sofitel. The temptation to drop in for a pitcher after working out is usually great!
We are still impressed with our hotel’s location. It’s almost exactly an 8-minute walk to school through a busy street scene, as Asians wake to greet the day. Songthaews clatter down the street, stopping at the school to belch out the cutest scrubbed children in their uniforms. Stalls are coming to life. One of these stalls mass-produces soup at a bowl a minute. People are sloshing water on the sidewalks, where a level surface is rare. With the puddles, cracks in the concrete and staggered levels (as if every slab of sidewalk was poured separately) you have to get used to walking safely and without stumbling.
The sister of the owner of our hotel is married and lives near Austin. But she comes to Thailand several months a year and brings her five-year-old daughter, Megan, with her. Megan is very cute, friendly, and energetic. She makes us think of Gabe and Cecile.
Tags: Thailand
There is other great news, too. I survived a real Thai massage and became a convert. In spite of my past reluctance about letting anyone kneed my bod , I finally submitted. My back and butt pain were just getting too awful. (Before leaving for Thailand, I’d seen Bob Hudgins and Howard Morgan–both NS friends–about the complaints, and was planning to have surgery in October). But, I couldn’t keep on shuffling around and bending over every five minutes until October. So, I needed help and I gave in. I went to a recommended place and presented my complaints to the masseuse. She went to work. She did a vigorous total body massage but focused great attention to the angry sites. That was almost a week ago, and I’ve been 98% asymptomatic since. Can you imagine? I mean it’s amazing. I hope I never operated on some poor soul who only needed a Thai massage.
Tags: Thailand
Now, back to where we are staying. Veena, an acquaintance from last year became our agent this year and showed us the housing options in Khon Kaen. As advertised, housing costs are really low. But there’s a catch. Most in-town rentals are one-room affairs, large enough to sleep in but way too cramped for living. On the other hand, there are some nice modern houses in outlying communities (“estates”) that rent inexpensively. So if you crave isolation and a small garden and have a car, you should rent on an “estate”. Veena showed us those options first, and held the best until last. It’s a large, comfortable, centrally-located serviced apartment in the Khon Kaen Hotel (43/2 Pinpasute Road, Khon Kaen, 4000). It’s more expensive than we had hoped, but what the heck, it’s fabulous.
Tags: Thailand
After the customary thirty-one hour door-to-door trip from Dallas, Judy and I arrived again at the VP Tower in BKK. The next night, Doug and Yim, who owned the old hangout, Thee Sud Isaan, threw a party at their house. Half of our friends were there, and we had a great time. The next night, we went to dinner with some other friends. All in all, we got to see nearly everyone. On the third day, we set off to Khon Kaen in a pickup with driver that Doug and Yim had arranged for us. In anticipation of cheap rent for the year and earning money, we treated ourselves to the Sofitel hotel as we set about looking for a place to stay. On to our success later.
Right now, it’s still early on a beautiful Khon Kaen morning–early because Judy got up at 5:30 to get ready for her first day teaching. Since she doesn’t know what to expect, she’s girding herself for just about anything. The textbook chapters that she selected are supposed to be copied by now, bound and ready for delivery into the students’ hands. But has/will that happen? Her schedule calls for two morning classes on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and one early Friday.
My classes didn’t “make” at all. The reason for this is obvious: Chai, who heads the English track, assigned me a course for a grade level that won’t even exist until next year! I don’t believe he intentionally pulled a bait and switch. I think rather that he was playing it loose, expecting something to turn up, given teacher turnover and the like. So things are not quite as pat as they might have seemed.
Nonetheless, Chai has connived a way to employ me enough as a substitute teacher (wink, wink) to get a work permit. That document is necessary for the quarterly process of reentry or registration in Thailand. I may find myself teaching English or goofing off.
There is an incredible amount of fussy administrative work when you’re registering to work here. I just had three exactly 5cm X 6cm pictures made for the work permit application. Judy has a long document to file with the bank today so that her salary can be paid electronically into her account. Who says things aren’t modern here in big T. We’ll set that account up this afternoon, and then head to the Sofitel to join their fitness center. It’s a pretty decent one and has a fabulous pool. It’s time to get back into some regular exercise. So, there’s always some of the routine housekeeping in addition to the sizzle of travel and adventure.
On the med school front, Chaiwit, the Neurosurgery professor, took us to lunch yesterday. An opportunity like making rounds at the hospital may open up once the med school year begins. We’ll see.
Tags: Thailand
Ira and I are in Khon Kaen and have found a place to live!! We have new cell phones and are in the process of unpacking.
A wonderful Thai woman we met last year helped us look for an apartment and, after considering several options, we have rented a serviced apartment in a hotel that is literally a 5 minute walk to the school. The hotel has a perfect location right in the center of things but back off the big streets enough so that it is not loud. The hotel’s owner, khun Tan, and his family also live here in the hotel and we have met him. He is a very nice young man who has made everything very easy for us. “You need another armoire? No problem!” Claude and Carrie, you will be interested to know that khun Ton took a graduate degree in hotel management in Portland where he lived for 2 years and where he met his wife. He liked Portland but agreed that it is rainy there.
Our new address:
Khon Kaen Hotel, Room 786
43/2 Pimpasoot Rd., Muang
Khon Kaen 40000
Thailand
The hotel phone is 66-43-333-222; Ira’s cell phone is 66-84-324-5883; my phone is 66-84-324-5884.
Tags: Thailand
Ira and I are doing fine. We are now in Khon Kaen in the northeast of Thailand where Ira is located as part of the International Neurosurgery volunteer program we told you about. After the first month in Bangkok at our same language school and a week-long trip to Myanmar, we came up here on October 21st in a mini van that barely held the driver, our Thai host, Ira and me and all our stuff: over the years that we have been coming to Thailand, we have accumulated various books, pots and pans, household linens, a printer, a DVD player and other life necessities.
Upon arrival, we moved into a very nice, furnished, 3 bedroom house on the campus. The medical school is providing the house, along with a maid who also does laundry and ironing. What a deal!! (We do pay the maid — about $100 for the month and a half.) The campus is very large — 2,000 acres — with many homes for faculty situated right on site in little villages, as is ours.
Living in Khon Kaen is a different view of Thailand than we have been able to see in the past as we are now truly among Thai people who are going about their daily lives. We also have much more of an opportunity to speak some Thai, as there are few other westerners here on campus. And the maid doesn’t speak English.
Living on campus has one downside and that is that we are about 10 kilometers or more out of town. Also, the campus itself is so large that you can’t walk everywhere. Since Ira and I don’t have a car or a motorbike, we initially had some transportation issues, but these are now solved. We have more or less learned the Khon Kaen system which is a network of songthaews and tuk-tuks. Tuk-tuks are little three wheeled, two passenger vehicles that are almost triangular in shape (the driver is in front) and have open rails on the sides and backs. The Thais call them tuk-tuks after the sound of the engines. Songthaews are essentially pickup trucks that have been modified so that the back is a covered bed, open with rails on the sides, with two benches and standing room in between. Each bench comfortably holds 6 Thais (I say it this way since the size of a Thai behind is significantly smaller than that of most “well-fed” Westerners.) There is also “hanging on” room at the very back for two or three people. Ira rode in this position one trip and I worried the whole way that he would be thrown off into the street when we hit bumps. Fortunately, he had the same thought and held on tight!
Anyhow, there are 20 songthaews lines in Khon Kaen and these lines collectively cover the campus and the city and are very convenient. Although the various routes are fixed, there are no fixed stops on the actual route. If you want to get on a songthaew, you just signal and they will stop as close as they can to wherever you are. Similarly, when you want to get off a songthaew, you just push a button and the driver will stop as soon as he can. The charge is a fixed 6 baht (roughly 15 cents) no matter how far you go intra-campus and 8 baht (around 20 cents) no matter how far otherwise. The nearest songthaew route to our house is an easy 5 minute walk — so these work great for us. EXCEPT — the songthaews stop running at 8:00 pm. So, if we’re in town after 8:00 pm, we have to take a tuk-tuk home (they run almost 24 hours) which is OK except that the tuk-tuk from town costs 100 baht ($2.60 or so). Of course, the tuk-tuk will deliver us to our front door so it’s not all bad!!
Ira has settled in a bit at the hospital. He leads, and I usually assist, an English class on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday for 4 folks in the Neurosurgery Division. Two are doctors, one the department admin head, and the fourth is another admin person who heads up records and AV stuff. Ira is also assisting in surgery, teaching the two young neurosurgeons about a couple of neurosurgery procedures in which he is an expert expert, and taking the med students on neurosurgery teaching rounds 3 times a week. He really enjoys the students and is considering adding another day to their time together. As you can imagine, the students love Ira and have been an enormous help to us in learning our way around. This Sunday is a special Thai holiday and 3 of the medical students are taking Ira and me on an outing that should be lots of fun.
I have had success in lining up something for me to do but it turned out differently than I had anticipated. I learned about the “American Corner” that is located in the main university library and is supported by the American Embassy with periodicals, newspapers, books, computers, etc. When I went over there to see if they would like a volunteer to help out, I was warmly welcomed. I asked them what they wanted and the result is that I am going to lead an American conversation/interest group at the University Library 3 afternoons a week. Their big interest and need is to have a chance to listen and respond to a native speaker in a unstructured situation. And to engage in ongoing conversations. I have now met three times with the Director and three of the student volunteers to brainstorm a bit and we are having a lot of fun. They have titled the sessions “Easygoing conversation with Dr. Judy” and are doing promotions for them in the library newsletter. These Thai student volunteers are English majors and are absolutely charming. One of them, Cherd, is also going to help me with my ongoing attempt to get good in the Thai language.
We go into town once or twice a week to meet the expat community. One bar that is fun is called Leo’s and is owned by a very nice Brit named Duncan. We went to “quiz night” last Thursday which was a lot of fun – quiz night is apparently a tradition in British bars and features some really tough trivia questions. As in Bangkok, the expats (at least those that “hang out”) are almost totally male and evenings with them always involve a fair amount of beer. Although toned down a bit, Khon Kaen is no exception. I am usually the only Western female in a group of 10 males — lucky I like guys and beer.
Dr. Chaiwit, our Thai host, has been asked to be the Assistant Dean of the Medical School and the Acting Assistant Director of the Hospital. These are great honors for him but we do not see him as much as we would otherwise.
Ira is going to attend three medical meetings — one for a long weekend in Chiang Mai, one in Nong Chai with a two day trip to Laos tacked on, and one in Vietnam for 4 days with an extra 3 days tacked on — and I am going along on all of them as spouse. Ira will probably present a paper in Vietnam. We are really looking forward to these trips as the locations are splendid.
Tags: Thailand
This is part 2 of the Myanmar trip story and was written by Dick Svee.
Burma Road
They lived among an ancient civilization; hundreds of pagodas and stupas in various stages of decay, some with cracks and broken plaster revealing eroding brick foundations; others with trees growing and swallowed by the encroaching forest.
Why the site was abandoned, no one knows. It was a long time ago.
Those people are gone now and what Buddha relics are encased in these gentle tapering domes, no one knows. There is no exaction, there are no tourists; there are only villagers and an occasional visit by Cho.
The stupas go unnoticed by the villagers as they go about their daily chores treading dirt paths past bamboo fences that surround simple huts. Some gates are latched but they are only to keep dogs or children in or out.
We wandered in and out of yards at will. They all bade us welcome.
“Come. Sit.’ they say, ‘Stay awhile.’ they motioned.
We were greeted by ‘Hellos’ from approaching children; who back off a half a step with our returned ‘Hellos. The children smile and giggle and ‘Hello’ us again.
The parents slowed and stopped their chores of cooking and cleaning.
They look up and invite us welcome.
‘Hello.’ we said. They nod and smile, ‘Hello.’
An old man near a well dips a large gourd and pours water over his partially clothed body. He saw us, laughed and dipped again.
“Come join me,” he motioned, “the water’s fine”, he seemed to say.
We laughed, he laughed. Water sputtered from his face as he hung onto his long skirt with one hand and wiped his face with the other. He swaggered over.
“Come sit,” he said tying his longyi. “Have something to eat. Sit here.” He pointed.
We were pleased but slightly embarrassed by their kindness and generosity since we were the intruder. We politely declined and asked for photos. They smiled.
“Fine,” they say and waved and smiled some more. We waved as we moved on.
“Fine,” they say, “come back anytime.”
House after house we found the same hospitality. No one selling; no one asking for anything; just kind people willing to share what they had with passing strangers.
I felt curiously warm when I got on the bus.
Our guide, Cho, stood at the head of the bus smiling and flashing his slightly large white teeth.
Cho was from the city, well educated and well off but Cho had the same warmth as these people of the country.
He said, “You know, in my country we have a name for you people from the United States. You want to know what it is?”
“Yes, of course.” was the reply.
“You are the ‘Hello People’.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I did both.
Later the next day we travelled towards Bagan.
The rain had been falling for months. Not unusual for the Monsoon season but the season was well past. Streams, creeks and the mighty Irrawaddy were swollen. Water rose to the banks and beyond.
Somewhere up river a dam had overflowed sending tons of water raging across the plain and the people of the countryside scrambled to save their belongings.
People lined the high ground of the roads while we drove cautiously across the water, silt and mud now covering the roadway. The people drug poles and tarps and whatever else they could salvage to make temporary shelters along the highway.
Livestock was hurried to higher ground. Cows stood tethered to trees and goats skirted about chewing anything available. The people mostly sat quietly and stoically. They did all they could do. Some stared, some talked, but most simply waited for the river to subside; but all managed a smile at the ‘Hello People’ as we passed.
No one cried at the devastation that swept livelihoods away….
except for a few ‘Hello People’ on the bus.
We pressed our faces against the windows watching as we forded the swollen river. Men from the village would walk ahead of the bus as the swiftly moving current swirled around their knees. They motioned the driver “Here! Here!” as their arm swung the direction.
Mile after mile it was the same; flooded fields, houses washed away, and belongings lost. They walked helping others, they stood watching, they sat staring but no one cried…. except a few on the bus.
Cho, the guide from the city said he wanted to take up a collection for the people. He walked down the aisle.
Wallets flashed and within minutes a ball of bills grew in his small Burmese hand.
A fortune, I thought. A fortune I hoped.
With the calmness of a Buddhist priest, Cho descended the bus and sought out the village headman.
The villagers seemed to sense something was about to happen. A crowd formed, followed, gathered and parted. Arms signaled and after a few minutes a tall man emerged from the crowd. He was older but not old. He carried himself straight and although naked to the waist, a crown would have fit his head.
Cho explained and pointed toward the bus. Eyes widened and smiles began to ripple down the road as word spread. Cho returned and we moved slowly off.
No one cried except the Hello People on the bus.
Tags: Burma
Part 1 — from Bill and Sherry — written after they were back on board ship.
Life changing. Awesome. Incredible. Overwhelming. Beautiful people. I was traveling alone and this mother with eight children who lives in a small one-room house invited me in to eat with them. … I’ll need some time to unpack what this trip has meant to me.
These were the words of one of the students that we talked with in the Bagan airport on our way back to Yangon (Rangoon).
When the dam broke and the village was flooded we were stranded. An open truck came to carry us across the water. We piled on with the local people and everyone was laughing and giving us a hand to get on. A military man started to get on and the locals turned their backs to him. One of our students finally held out a hand to pull him up.
This was the story one of the faculty told me today at lunch.
A few of us were in the tea house with the local people. We were laughing and enjoying the popular music and all of a sudden everything became quiet and we looked around and all the locals were gone. Three soldiers were standing in the doorway.
These and similar comments have been repeated over and over by students and faculty as we gather back on the ship and exchange views about Myanmar (Burma). The days in Myanmar have had a lasting and profound effect on all of us. It is difficult to know where to begin.
First, some background – for our memories especially. Up to you how you read it – NO TEST AT THE END.
First some geography. I had to check the map when we decided to come to remember exactly where Myanmar was located. During the colonial period it was part of India and it borders India and Bangladesh to its west, China to the north, and Laos and Thailand to the east.
Maybe the best place to begin is with a little recent history and politics. Like so much of Asia, Burma’s modern history is that of colonialism.
• Burma was invaded by the British in the 1820s and became part of the British Colonial Empire. It was administered as part of India and became one of the most prosperous countries of Southeast Asian. (An aside: George Orwell was a British officer in Burma in the 1930s and wrote the novel Burmese Days that reflects his growing sense of disillusion with British rule. Some see his Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-four as prescient of the totalitarian rule that was to come.) • The Japanese occupied Burma during World War II and a resistance movement that had begun to form in the 30s was ready to push for independence after the war.
• Burma became independent in 1948 and opted not to remain part of the British Commonwealth. Burma is a hodgepodge of ethnic groups and chaos broke out almost immediately. There was a Communist Party, an anti-Fascist group, the Kuomintang (Nationalist Chinese who were forced out of China caused problems), several ethnic minority groups had their militia, and who knows what else. • 1962 a left wing army revolt took over and established some sense of order but serious problems, including a couple of coups, and the military continued in control for the next 25 years.
• 1987-88 was the period of major demonstrations by a strong pro-democracy movement. Aung San Suu Kyi, the daughter of a national hero, Bogyoke Aung San who had led the earlier independence movement, came back from England to lead the pro democracy coalition, the National League for Democracy (NLD).
In a few weeks over 3000 protesters were killed, unknown numbers were imprisoned, and Aung San Suu Kyi was put under house arrest. The military leadership promised an election.
• The 1990 election surprised everyone. The NLD won a whooping 68% of the vote. And 80% of the seats in the parliament. The junta moved in and did not allow the NLD to assume leadership and have continued to rule. They have promised a new constitution, but promises are only that.
• Aung San Suu Kyi has become an international hero. She was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991 but although she was released in 1995, she continued to speak on behalf of her beliefs and she was rearrested. Again released in 2002 after international pressure, has been under house arrest since early 2003.
Burma was re-named Myanmar by the military government in 1988. The official line is that this is an ancient name and more appropriately represents ALL the people. Burma, so the story goes, represents only the dominant Burman ethnic group. Also in 1988 Rangoon became Yangon; Pagan became Bagan; and so on. Mandalay remained Mandalay.
Myanmar may be the most repressive government outside of some countries of sub-Saharan Africa. We were warned not to ask any questions about politics or human rights because the secret police are supposedly ever present and a person can be imprisoned (or worse) for talking with foreigners about such things. They were supposedly particularly tense because Bush has just gotten the UN Security Council to put Myanmar’s human rights stuff on the agenda.
There is obviously no freedom of speech or the press and many internet connections are blocked. Many Human Rights Groups oppose travel to the country, arguing that any money spent in Burma supports the military junta.
Others argue that our very presence is the only window to the outside that many people have and say that any dollars spent in the small shops are the life-bread for local families. Truth on both sides.
Burma is probably the most religious (read that, Buddhist) of any Asian country that we have visited. We decided to take the advice of our friend, Audrey Stein, and spent most our time in Bagan, the center of an ancient civilization and the heartland of traditional Theravada Buddhism. Red robed monks from about age 9 to old men are everywhere, often carrying their begging bowls.
Bagan is picture-card Burma. It’s a little more than an hour flight from Yangon/Rangoon. Located on the wide, winding Irrawaddy River (renamed Ayeyarwady), Bagan is home of over 3,000 Buddhist temples and pagodas. Small and large; individual edifices or complex “campuses” including lecture halls, temples and shrines; some are red-brick multistoried, terraced monuments that can be climbed for views of the countryside; others are golden bell-shaped beauties that can be seen from miles away. The pagodas are solid buildings with relics of the Buddha buried inside; the temples have a primary chamber where devotees bring offerings of flowers or fruit (or money!) as well as shrine rooms. And the Buddhas! Not one or two, but thousands of golden or stark- white enormous sitting, or standing, or reclining Buddhas. The result is sensory overload.
Sometime in the mid nineties (I think) the military honchos announced that all the many people living in the area among the shrines (literally between them) would be moved “for their own good” and to protect the pagodas from pollution. So almost over night, whole villages were re-located to areas about 4 miles away (now called the New Bagan). The cleared area is now called the Archeological Zone and indeed there is evidence of some work being done.
Most of the pagodas and temples were built at the height of the Buddhist culture in the 11-13th century by the kings and royalty in order to gain merit and be rewarded with a better life in the next life. (Think reincarnation.) Others were built by ordinary people likewise concerned about their next existence.
Enough background. How about our experience?
IINFRASTRUCTURE
The roads on the hour long bus ride from the ship into Yangon were our first tip off of thing to come. The ruts and potholes were so numerous, that it was truly an obstacle course with drivers paying very little heed to lanes or street markings. (For road conditions think of roads in small Midwest towns after FIVE to TEN winters with no repairs.} As we got into the outskirts, we began to see five or six storey apartment buildings erected since 1980. The buildings, painted white, were covered with heavy black mold.
As we drove along, we passed dozens of buses of various sizes – all packed as fully as humanly possible. There were also trucks in the half-ton size with a covered cargo area. People sat on benches along the sides, arms hanging out glassless windows; the top was full of sitting passengers; and several men were standing on the rear step holding onto railings. An outrider hung on to one of the railings with one hand while he held his other hand out with a clutch of bills – ready to collect from the next customer. There were also small pick up trucks outfitted with seats – most of 1950s vintage. THERE ARE NO MOTOR BIKES OR SCOOTERS IN YANGON. One
story that we heard was that one of the generals didn’t like motorbikes, so they were outlawed in Yangon. Another story (the party line) was that it was to keep down smog. Whatever the truth, the poor Yangonese suffer
immensely as they make their way to work. There are many, many cabs – many ancient – and they drive on any open stretch with sheer kismet = Que Sera’, Sera’ In contrast to Vietnam, pedestrians are fair game and literally run the gauntlet except where there are traffic lights.
The sidewalks in the middle of the city are truly an obstacle course. Many were made of 12-16 inch concrete stepping stones set on supports with a foot or more of space beneath them. So many are broken, that one has to be on constant alert not to disappear into a yawning chasm. In New York City, people don’t make eye contact for privacy, safety, and custom. In Yangon, the problem is solved. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO MAKE EYE CONTACT AND REMAIN HEALTHY.
As in China and Vietnam, the sidewalks are teeming, and small shops spill over the walkways. Stepping into the street, by necessity, is a major hazard but almost everyone does.
The PEOPLE
“One dollah” “Two for five dollah – I make you good price”. The Burmese WILL not take no for an answer. They will stick with you, pulling out yet another shirt or shawl until one gives up and buys something or finds the safety of the bus or enters a store or a temple. We found much needed renewal of interest in religion while in Myanmar!
At the same time, the people are friendly, friendly. Almost everyone has a wave, a smile, and a greeting, even if they are not selling. Our ship disgorged about 600 people into Myanmar for five short days, and it was a great occasion for the locals. They get Germans, Italians, and Korean tourists, but usually by the busload, not the boatload. Our students do not suffer from a shyness gene; they are much more outgoing than the Burmese; and they are determined to make the most of their five-day “tastings” of various counties. They were noticed! As were we by association.
MONSOON
We have heard about the monsoons for decades, and, of course we have periodically seen pictures of Mombai (Bombay until the British left) with people wading through thigh deep water. But we had never experienced
monsoon rain. Indeed, we arrived in Burma at least a week after the monsoon season was to have ended. Whatever the reason – global warming, failure of someone to propitiate the proper god – the rains remained. We
were actually pretty lucky. After a tour of Yangon, we boarded a plane for an hour and a half flight to Bagan – the city with several thousand pagodas, temples, and stupas.
We went to a beautiful riverside hotel, laid out with a series of bungalow accommodations. I had the auspicious title of TRIP LEADER – a riff of the snare drums, please – and so Sherry and I got the prize unit right on the river at the bottom of spacious gardens and a beautiful lawn out in front. (OK, a bit of reality. As trip leader I got to check people on and off of the bus and to assign Dock Time to those who were more than ten minutes late
arriving at the bus. Power, baby, power.)
Over the next three days, we actually lucked out a good bit in being able to visit the array of pagodas, local markets, the lacquer factory, etc. But we were aware of the toll that rains had taken with flooded roads – once off the main road, a sea of mud and large ponds on the road and in the adjoining fields. But, again, we lucked out. We went off the first morning to climb the 100 BIG steps up the highest local temple to look over the countryside, which looked like a giant upended chessboard with the pieces scattered randomly around.
Sherry described Bagan above. Our days were filled with sorties of various kinds; climbing up the tallest temple to view the landscape in early morning light; visiting various pagodas in our BARE feet (the Burmese take their shoes off as they enter the temple complex — we shuddered at what might be lurking in the dirt and water in which we walked); a visit to a small local village and its school; a visit to a local outdoor market; a sunset boat ride on the Irrawaddy; and a two hour siesta break each afternoon back in our sumptuous digs. Our last night in Bagan, four of our groups joined together for a wonderful dinner and evening of folk dancing to the unique Asian sounds of many percussion instruments held in a candle-lit temple.
Monsoon rains!! Two of our groups had gone to Mandalay for a day or two and then were to bus to Bagan to join us. The rains were so heavy that one group took 14 hours to make the normally 4 hour trip. A dam broke,
flooding local villages and washing out roads. The group had to get off their bus and carry their luggage through knee deep water to cross a stream.
In one village they took up a collection of $200 for the devastated villagers. A second group to Mandalay had to take a boat up the river to Bagan because all roads were closed by their departure time. On our final day we were to go to Mt. Popa – a 7000 foot mountain with an ancient temple on top. Thirty minutes from our hotel, we found ourselves in a mass of buses, trucks, and taxis, all stopped by a washed out road. We watched
cats and tractors pulling diesel trucks and buses, along with groups of men trying vainly to push vehicles out of deep holes the wheels had dug into the sand. The villagers had placed bamboo “rugs” and branches under the wheels to provide some traction. There were three more such rivers ahead of us – needless to say, our plans were changed.
Part of what made this trip very special is that our good friends from the 2002 voyage, Judy and Ira Denton, joined us. Since 2003 they have been spending several months every year in Thailand. We were thrilled that they agreed to fly from Bangkok to Yangon and join us for this trip.
Tags: Burma
Ira and I have just returned from a 6 day trip to Myanmar/Burma where we joined up with friends we made on Semester at Sea Fall 2002, Bill and Sherry May, and Dick and Beth Svee. These two couples are on Semester at Sea again for the Fall 2006 voyage — Bill is teaching a bioethics course and the others are enjoying the experience. When we all went together in Fall 2002, both Bill and Sherry were full-time professors and Dick and Beth were adult passengers as were Ira and I.
Both the Mays and the Svees have already written about our trip to Myanmar and what they have written is so good that Ira and I decided to just send it on to all of you. We were actually with the Mays for the whole time and then all six of us met up for a night and half a day in Yangon at the end.
I know that we have said many times that one of the things we liked best about Semester at Sea was the people whom we met and shared experiences with. Reading their letters, you will certainly see why we are so appreciative of these wonderful people. The two letters are very different in tone; the one from the Mays is more documentary whereas the one from Dick is almost poetry. Since both letters are fairly long, I am sending them in two parts.
Tags: Burma
One last word or two about the Thai political situation. It is not affecting anyone’s daily life at all, except for those who are involved in it. Thaksin is in London “holidaying” as one of newspapers put it; his entire family and retainers are also there with him in the multi-million dollar home that he bought over 6 months ago. More and more information will come out now — and get truly investigated — about how unbelievably corrupt that man was/is. He basically was able to bypass all the measures in the constitution which were setup to maintain checks and balances against abuse of power, including having his own men in the oversight agencies. So, he was able “legally” to do essentially whatever he wanted. When we were here before, there was one maverick woman who was Auditor General and who was insisting on having that office do honest and thorough investigations. You can well imagine that Thaksin had her removed. Well, she’s back!!
As Interim Prime Minister, the junta have chosen a retired general who is past Commander of the Army and a close advisor/confidant to the King. Many people had hoped the appointee would be the head of the Bank of Thailand but this move is generally considered to be OK also. Thaksin had apparently managed to get many of his cronies appointed to key positions in the military (surprise!) so many people feel that the new Interim PM will be able to be a guard against the military who might plan a countercoup.
Now, the question you might have is “How come this terrible man had such an overwhelming majority of the popular vote?” A partial explanation is that Thaksin’s support base is in the rural North and Northeast where most of the poorest and less-educated people live and where his party really and truly bought votes. It is confirmed information that in some villages free cell phones were given out to people who agreed to vote for Thaksin (of course the cell phones were on the network that Thaksin’s children owned so when people had to buy
new phone cards….). Now, being Westerners you might wonder “How did that insure that these same people would then keep their word and actually vote.” Easy, the people distributing the phones took names and checked them on election day. I am also told that in some cases, they actually took the people’s national ID cards and only returned them when they voted. This latter piece of information may be anecdotal, I’m not sure of it, but it came from a friend whose wife comes from one of those rural villages. In any case, this is not following democratic principles.
It is true that Thaksin did some good things with rural projects for those areas, so he is certainly not all bad. One Thai friend who came from the Northeast actually said to Ira and me a couple of years ago that she and the people in her village didn’t care what Thaksin did or how corrupt he was, just so long as he continued to take care of them.
This remark really brought home to us the truth that the survival level of people has to reach a certain comfort level before they’re even able to be or interested in being concerned about the niceties of principles.
Anyhow, I have attached a couple of pictures of the tanks in Bangkok so that you can see the flavor of the response here. Certainly not very threatening. The boys are two of the sons of our friends Yim and Doug.
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Tags: Thailand