Snakes and Other Animals (Last Day in Bangkok)

If the itinerary for our last day in Bangkok looks to you like something an eleven year-old boy came up with, it is because I was put in charge of planning. The first place we visited was the Queen Saovabha Memorial Institute, which is one of the largest snake farms and venom research institutes in the world. Our goal was to make it in time for the morning milking, but we arrived late to an empty museum. Luckily, Sami found a door to the auditorium and we moved quickly down the stairs where a group of onlookers- families with young children and college aged tourists- sat facing handlers behind glass hoisting a king cobra with a hooked rod. The researcher in charge wore a white lab coat and prattled off Thai and English factoids through a headset microphone. As he spoke, two men forced the cobra's upper palate over a glass to release the poisonous discharge. From our distance, the snake looked like a thick bullwhip held the wrong way and after it was milked of its venom it snapped violently at its molesters and elicited a collective frightened gasp from the onlookers. Coyly undeterred, the experts efficiently packed the reptile away to its home inside the museum, where it would remain untouched by human hands until its next scheduled milking in three months.

The museum houses dozens of exotic snakes from Southeast Asia and other tropical areas around the globe. When the snakes aren't being rid of their toxic poisons for use in anti-venom, they can be viewed in their individual living areas by visitors like us. Some of the snakes, like the albino king cobra, were easy to spot, while others hid camouflaged in trees or discreetly coiled in corners. Sami and I made a game out of trying to spot each snake before the other. She won most of the time. I would love to take this time to provide the scientific name for each snake we viewed in addition to an artistically detailed description of the beauty of these misunderstood creatures, but Sami erased most of the pictures I took. In her defense, I did take too many, and it can become a pain trying to download all of them.

The signs on the outside of each cage had great info like where the fangs are located, what habitat the snake prefers, does it lay eggs or birth baby snakies, is it nocturnal, how poisonous etc.

Here is the albino cobra

I forgot most of what we learned upstairs in the museum portion of the institute, but I fondly recall the moment we both realized that the male snake actually has two penises, or hemi-peni. We took delight in telling our friends that what the organ they ate of a snake in Vietnam wasn't what they thought it was, and was in fact a double portion.

Afterward, we took a cab to Dusit Zoo. Even though by mid-day it was scorching hot, the zoo was a nice refuge from the noisy city. There is a large lake in the middle of the zoo where you can rent paddle boats, and lots of shade along the paved walkway. We found the zoo quite large and a little difficult to navigate. Despite its spaciousness, it doesn't seem like many of the animals have much room to roam. For instance, the giraffes (who crane their necks down to take food from patrons and have heads the size of Volkswagens) have only a small circle of space to roam around in. My theory is that this forced claustrophobic state distresses them, and they take out their aggression on the poor ostriches that share the same cramped quarters. One ostrich walks around with its tail feathers all plucked to shit and looking like discarded fish bones. Similarly, the tigers and Asiatic bears occupy a space no bigger than our apartment. It is a little depressing.

Giraffe and ostrich

Tiger don't seem worried bout lack of space

Nor does the Asiatic Black Bear

This komodo dragon what just roaming the park. At least I think it is a komodo dragon. At the time I thought it could have been a monitor lizard, but then I did see monitor lizards in The Philippines and they were much smaller. Anyway, I thought I should take a picture with it.

But I was too chicken to get any closer than this.

Don't get me wrong. I had a great time at the zoo. I always do. What made this one even more special, in addition to the impressive display of colorful and exotic birds, were all of the unique signs and questionable translations. You can judge for yourself. Maybe it's the type of humor only an eleven year old can appreciate. And me.

In Vietnam, we were told that code for taking a #2 is "singing karaoke." Must be the same here.

Real? I sickly kind of hope so. "This here's real sturdy. Made of wood." (Guess the movie?)

Zebra bonch

Bangkok Street Food

For some reason, I was more excited about the food in Saigon and Hanoi than Bangkok. I don't know why. Maybe it sounded more exotic or something. In hindsight, Vietnam had some great hits. The thought of an iced coffee makes me salivate, and I could eat a bahn mi once a day 'til I die. However, of all the places we traveled to over the last two years, Bangkok turned out to be the king of cuisine. We barely made a scratch in the famous street munchies that make the city so famous, but at least we took pictures.

Okay, so this first example isn't necessarily street food. We stopped off in this restaurant on Khao San Road on our way to the Grand Palace. Khao San Road evolves into a hopping party when the sun goes down, but at this hour, we and hundreds of additional tourists were just searching for a cool place to avoid the heat. We sat inside and Sami ordered greasy Pad Thai (hey, someone had to do it). I had an appetizer of fried pork strips. I wanted to save my appetite for tasty street food along the walk. The pork, fried with sesame seeds, was crispy, hard and dry. The Thai chile sauce it came with was good though. All around it was not the best introduction to Thai cuisine.

This was something I snagged after the restaurant on the walk to the Royal Palace. These little guys are everywhere, and if we hadn't exchanged our Bangkok Lonely Planet at the English Bookstore in Korea, I would look up the name. I like to think of them as little Thai tacos. The yellow that you see is not cheese, but rather caramelized coconut shavings. They say they come in two kinds, savory and sweet but the sweet one is pretty savory and the savory is quite sweet. I actually bought another variety in Kanchanaburi, but I guess I forgot to take a picture. They are all about 3 for a dollar.

Having struck out in finding famous grilled chicken in Hanoi, I couldn't pass up the grill lady who set up shop just across the street from our hotel. She had a great English menu that listed the prices for each different piece. I bought two skewers of skin and back meat. Being a foreigner, she tried to skimp out on the sauce, so I made sure to point and the condiments and grunt approvingly. She got the message and placed the skewers in a plastic bag, squirted in a stream of soy or fish sauce, and then dusted in some salty, spicy seasoning. With my hand on the outside of the bag, I rubbed the tasty goodness all over the hot skin. Usually, I don't like fatty meat, but the juju she threw over the chicken pieces left me gnawing on every tendon. I made a mental not to visit her again for a piece with more substance.

Obviously, I wasn't expecting my best meal in Thailand to be found at the Bangkok zoo, but this salad was incredible. Hot and sour, salty and crunchy. Probably the same thing I glance over on Thai menus in the US in search of Pad Thai.

This was our favorite dish in Bangkok, and I say "ours" because Sami stole most of it from me. Tom Yam noodle soup purchased at a street stall on Khao San Road for around a dollar. The coconut milk tried its best to mellow the fiery heat, but I still sweated like Glen "Big Baby" Davis throughout spoonfuls. The rice noodles are a little more firm than the ones we sampled in Hanoi Pho, and overall I find the freshness of Tom Yam preferable to the Vietnamese specialty.

Sami's first pregnancy craving was the fruit in Bangkok. Every morning I woke to the sounds of a fruit vendor hacking away at watermelon and carving up papaya. Right now, you can purchase a small watermelon in Korea for about twenty dollars. When we were in Bangkok, we bought giant bags of the sweetest watermelon for about a quarter. Sami was in love with the watermelon, whereas I chose to be less monogamous, venturing into pineapple and papaya territory as well.

The fruit is served in plastic bags with a bamboo skewer, and I told myself not to worry about future environmental repercussions while sampling God's juicy fine fare.

These wontons I bought were served the same way. I actually don't remember much about this item except for the fact that a fellow foreigner came up behind me and quizzed me about it. "What's that?" "Is it good?" How much is it?" I don't know dude, everything is good just get it.

This is a terrible picture, but this sausage type thing stuffed with rice was bomb. I think it is just a good rule of thumb that if it is served on a stick, it's awesome. I should have eaten about thirty more of these, but it was one of those things where I wasn't really hungry and I wasn't sure how much it cost.

Finally, on our last night I decided to ignore my bulging stomach from the street food extravaganza and follow up on the promise I made to revisit the grilled chicken lady. Here is a better pick of her station.

Before she throws on the sauce and Asian taste dust, she warms the piece over a charcoal grill. This sweats the skin and makes the dust stick. This worked great with the tiny skin strips I ate earlier, but with this leg, she should have left it on the grill for another half hour. There is nothing worse than slimy chicken.

Sure enough, slimy and undercooked. I couldn't eat it. So much for my theory about food on a stick.

Muay Thai and Lady -Boys

As much as I envision myself plugged in to American culture and events, living abroad the past 21 months has undoubtedly hampered my ability to share in my home country's collective conscience. Sure, I know when the big things occur- killing bin Laden, the Ft. Hood shooting and Gabby Giffords for example- and I can probably even recite the weather forecasts from the Pacific Northwest further out than many current residents. But that doesn't mean that I can imagine the cold rain steadily dropping and soaking the front of a pair of khakis. I experienced terror and shame when I read of the senseless violence in a Tucson Safeway parking lot, but it felt a world away. Like reading from a novel. Even the reactions espoused from comparatively meaningless occurrences- the likes of which are obsessed over by my generation- are lost on me. I can't for the life of me understand why so many people hate LeBron James for taking less money to play for a contender, and I don't see even ironic humor in "The Jersey Shore."

When it comes to movies, I am downright pathetic. No, I have not seen Avatar. The last movie I saw in a theater before we left for Korea was The Hangover. Now the sequel is out and I recently learned that the plot of The Hangover II is set in Bangkok. While Bangkok has a reputation as a debauched city specializing in sexual deviancy, I can safely assure all friends and family out there that our experience in the Thai capitol was nothing like that of Zack Galifianakis or 'Nard Dog. In fact, the only real taste we got of that famous gender ambiguity was from our lady-boy hotel receptionist. He/she wasn't all that friendly, and the only thing that sticks out in my mind from our encounter was the confusing tickle of his/her fingernails scraping my palm as she dispensed the change from a root beer purchase.

We did, however, seek out something Bangkok is equally famous for- Muay Thai, the national sport of Thailand. Muay Thai is often referred to as Thai kickboxing and, although I am far from an expert, I would call that a fair comparison. The only difference that I see is that Muay Thai competitors are tiny, the heaviest fighters were under 120 lbs. or around 55 kg. Some were even under 100 lbs.

Our plan was to buy tickets at the door. We walked into the stadium and before we reached the ticket counter we were accosted by good looking young women who attempt to sell only to foreigners. Their job is to sell the ringside seats, and downplay the rest of the auditorium by making false claims such as it is standing room only or too far away to see. By an unusual act of persistence brought on by lack of funds, we were able to persevere past the hot hawkers and buy tickets at the counter for the cheap seats.

We arrived early to an empty stadium, but we could already see that we made a wise choice. Fat white people in shorts and sandals, and young MMA wannabes sat ringside in cushioned chairs while the true fans roamed our section taking and placing bets. There were ten fights on the card and with each match, more and more of the true fans came in. Eventually, we moved out of their way and peered through the chain link fence in a calmer section.

The stadium was over 30 years old and looked it. Seats were concrete slaps and the timer and scoreboard looked like something out of the movie Hoosiers. Before each fight, the competitors would perform a strange squatting dance ritual called Wai Khru Ram Muay, which is done to show respect for the opponent and the crowd , and also serves as a prayer to Buddha.

The fighting itself is fast and furious. The fighters perform strikes with their fists, elbows, knees and feet in addition to clinching and grappling techniques. We found that the first round or two would start out slow as each fighter attempted to figure the other one out, but by the end it was a free for all swinging frenzy. We never could figure out how the score was kept, and no one was ever knocked out. The gamblers in the crowd gasped and cheered at actions we couldn't figure out. They were quite partial to the kicks to the legs, while we looked forward to punches in the face. Soon we decided to make our own little game of guessing who the winner was at the end of the fight. I think we were right a little more than half of the time.

Afterward we went back to the hotel where I hoped to hop online and catch up on the news from the states. Remembering that our laptop was broken from the night before, I sat down with the lady-boy receptionist and talked Muay-Thai.

The Bridge on the River Kwai

In preparing for a vacation, Sami will spend months pouring over guidebooks and scrolling through travel blogs searching for the most interesting activities and least expensive, quasi-bearable hotels. Sites of cultural and historical significance are high on her list as are multiple-reviewed eateries (her logic: if a restaurant is in a guidebook, it has a name, and if it has a name, it is not a dirty food stall, and hopefully even serves the old Western standbys because when you travel anywhere away from Korea, even to one of the top foodie havens of the world such as Bangkok, chicken strips must be found and devoured with ranch sauce). She creates up to the hour schedules that include travel time, addresses, phone numbers and directions. I fully admit that this is the smart way to go and she always sends the info to our family members to potentially shorten the amount of time our bodies would decompose should something happen to us. However, it does take some of the spontaneity out of travel.

After deciding that she had enough of playing the role of master scheduler, Sami put me in charge of creating the itinerary for our three days in Bangkok. I started my research by watching the Hollywood classic "The Bridge Over the River Kwai," and quickly decided that we would take a day trip to see the site of the famous bridge built by mainly English and Australian POWs during WWII. I enjoyed the movie so much that I decided to watch "Apocalypse Now," "The Quiet American," and "The Killing Fields" even though I knew I would have nothing to do with the itineraries for Vietnam and Cambodia.

We took a bus to Kanchanaburi, a small town in southwest Thailand that is the home of the bridge and Death Railway, numerous museums depicting POW life under Japanese rule, and the Kanchanaburi War Cemetery. The bus had no A/C, rattled uncontrollably, had narrow, worn out seats. There was the kind of bathroom in back where you ladle water down the hole and let the natural level dilute and carry the waste away in some act of primitive and mysterious physics common only outside of the first world. Sami took one look and decided to hold it.

I couldn't help but listen in to the conversation a young couple was having in the seats behind us. They were comparing the bus to others they had ridden on in India and to the Greyhound they took from Eugene to Reedsport. Yes, that Eugene and that Reedsport. I turned and enthusiastically notified them that we were from Oregon as well. Not only that, they were pregnant just like us, and the girl's brother had actually been one of Sami's students at Glencoe High School in Hillsboro. Small world right? I dozed for most of the rest of the ride while Sami compared pregnancy notes with our new friends, confident that she was pleasantly entertained by common talk of health and home. Turns out I made an unwise decision and was later scorned for leaving my wife to carry the conversation. Apparently I have a bad habit of starting conversations with strangers and then letting Sami do all of the talking. Not that she didn't want to talk to the young couple, just that she thought I was coming off as anti-social. My rebuttal is that most of the time I just wait a second longer than she does to fill in an empty space with words. I try not to interrupt. It's what I would like to think of as politeness. True, sleeping in that situation aint polite, but I was tired.

We decided to walk from the bus station in Kanchanaburi to the Thailand-Burma Railway Centre, which is the newest museum dedicated to the "Death Railway" and also the one the Lonely Planet recommended as the must see. First, we traipsed over to the tourism board to snag a map and soon after picked up a street snack from an independent vendor. I am planning to reserve a blog entry exclusively on the Bangkok street food I ate during our trip later on in the week so I will save my description until then. However, I must mention the Thai iced tea I fell for at a coffee shop later on this same walk.

Here is a Thai iced tea I had another time in Bangkok

Kanchanaburi sort of reminded us of Korea. The main thoroughfare we walked on was lined with uniformly boxed buildings similar in style and height to those in smaller Korean towns we've visited like Jeonju and Sokcho. The difference of course was that the weather was extremely hot in what was late January. We stopped off in a coffee shop we knew was air conditioned and that is where I ordered my Thai iced tea. If you've never had one, it is strong black tea severely sweetened and spiced with what I think is anise. Milk was added to it and it was the perfect drink for a hot day. Pretty sure I will order it every time I see it on a menu from now on and it will trump even my favorite alcoholic standbys.

On the street in Kanchanaburi. Much more modern than small towns in Cambodia and The Philippines. Kind of reminded us of places we've visited in Korea.

The Thai-Burma Railway Centre in Kanchanaburi. An absolute must see if you find yourself there.

The Thai-Burma Railway Centre is an extraordinary museum. The curator, Australian Rod Beattie, has dedicated his life to uncovering every possible piece of information that exists about this misunderstood piece of one of the darkest times in world history. It was here that the Japanese Imperial Army used Burmese "volunteers" and British and Australian POWs to construct a supply railway running from Burma to China. As you can imagine, the true story is nothing like the movie "Bridge on the River Kwai" where the English POWs are treated to a live show and celebration at the completion of the project. The Japanese guards (actually, it was interesting to hear that most of the guards in this area were Korean- Korea being part of the Japanese Empire 1910 until after the war) were extremely harsh on the prisoners- working them to death in many cases.

Kanchanaburi War Cemetery

In addition to extensive information and large scale models displaying the logistics and geography of the railway, Mr Beattie made frequent use of the journals of POWs to present an accurate and brutal account of life in the camps. Nearly 100,000 soldiers died of diseases such as dysentery and cholera and were fed no more than a few spoonfuls of rice a day. The most harrowing image inside the museum is a sculpture of a bony thin Allied soldier slumped and held up at the shoulders by two like-framed friends. His pants are at his ankles as he is being dragged along, undoubtedly dying from dysentery.

More scenes from the War Cemetery

After that sobering experience we rented bikes and peddled to the reconstructed Bridge over the River Kwai. Along the way there were dozens of little bars and discos and hotels. According to the Lonely Planet, this little section of town actually gets pretty jumping after dark.

The bridge itself was clean and surprisingly well maintained having been rebuilt only a few short years after the war. Being there had none of the mystique of the movie, which is just as well because I later learned that the film was shot in Sri Lanka (I was equally bummed to find out that "Apocalypse Now" was famously shot in The Philippines, but I guess I should have known that Vietnam was not the most US-friendly place circa 1978). It was such a nice late afternoon and there were so many smiling tourists around that all of the evil we learned of inside the museum minutes earlier was unfathomable.

Tourist pics

After taking enough pictures against the backdrop of the bridge, we rode past to a restaurant Sami found highly recommended. It was a large but empty establishment being that we walked in at an awkward hour between lunch and dinner. We were seated outside, overlooking the bridge. We ordered an appetizer of wontons stuffed with shrimp meat and later I had an incredible green curry. There was a Chinese party at a table near us smoking cigarettes and drinking from a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red. I was surprised when the left and took the bottle with them. Apparently, the Thai custom is to bring your own and only be charged a small corking fee. It is a great idea, but not as good as a Thai iced tea.

Green curry

Stuffed wontons

Catching Up and Looking Forward

There hasn't been much writing for awhile owing to a simple lack of inspiration. It is cold and there are remnants of frozen snow all about. We have been in hibernation mode all of December up until now. Part of this is us saving money for our upcoming trip to Southeast Asia, and part is pure laziness. Oh, there have been some highlights. For a few weekends before the snows I would play basketball over at my school. I would go to just to shoot, but inevitably a group of high schoolers would ask me to join in half court three on three. Being bigger and stronger, and (unlike my youthful competition) having received the benefit of actual instruction in my youth, I dominated the games like a young Shaq.

A week before Christmas we had some people over for a gift exchange and holiday party. We played King's Cup on the floor of our apartment which was a good time, but our Korean friend was understandably frustrated every time a nine (bust a rhyme) was pulled. As you can imagine, this is a difficult feat to perform using your non-native language. We drank enough that we ended up at the karaoke room. We learned that if you order enough beer (which is apparently illegal, but they all do it anyway) they will give you extra time to sing. I am still not sure if this is a good thing.

On Christmas night we went to a foreigner Christmas dinner put on by a brewery in Seoul. We were lucky enough to go first in line at the buffet and we loaded up our plates with standard (but sorely missed) Christmas fare. Since we were first, we even got to take a turkey leg which made us quite happy. I can't say the same for the people who went after us. We actually tried to get back in line for seconds before other sections were given the go-ahead. This did not go over well.

These last two weeks, I have only been going to school half days to teach an English camp. The first week was 3rd grade, last week was 5th and next week will be 3rd again. The first week wasn't so bad. Thanks to Sami, I have awesome materials for all my classes so that isn't a problem. The 5th grade session, however, was horrendous. I just don't have the patience for this. Why do the boys, who are soon going to be in sixth grade, have to be hitting each other and shooting each other with fake guns constantly? I don't get it. I actually had to take away a water gun that looked exactly like a real gun. The whole time I am thinking, if this happened in the states, it would be news. Whenever I get really worked up about it, however, I remind myself that it is only a half day and I usually forget about what a pain it all is soon after I get home.

I have spent a lot of my downtime reading some really great books. I finished Cormac McCarthy's "Blood Meridian," (very dense and filled with imagery. Had to re-start it 100 pages in, but epic. I will definitely be reading it again and can't wait for the movie), "Sister Carrie" by Theodore Dreiser, Anthony Bourdain's "A Cooks Tour," "One Day" by David Nichols, "Beloved" by Toni Morrison and "The War for Late Night" about the whole Jay/Conan fiasco.

I would recommend "Beloved" to anyone who hasn't read it already. I easily understand why it ranks up there with the best American novels. Very moving, but what I was most impressed with how the other weaves her way through the scenes, present and past. Just really great writing.

Because I am such a late night junkie (I am now a certified "Jay" guy whereas I used to be solely for Conan) I devoured "The War for Late Night" in two days. It was a very interesting insider account of how it all went down, and I hate to say it, but I don't totally blame Jay anymore like I used to. I think it was just a little mismanagement on the part of NBC and an overreaction by Conan. And now he is on TBS and while I can't see it, I am imagining it isn't going too well. I wish he would have just stuck it out. That still doesn't mean I think the joke-machine Leno is the least bit funny.

Of course, the biggest thing that has been occupying my time has been following all of the coverage leading up to the National Championship Game. I continue to devour all of the news I can even though everyone is saying the same things we have heard all season: win the day, one day at a time, Oregon plays at a superfast pace, the defense is underrated etc etc etc. The one thing I keep thinking back to was seeing Darron Thomas in person for the first time when he was a true Freshman. In a previous life I helped put on a charity auction in Eugene and I was fortunate enough to usher some VIPs for a meet and greet with the players as they ate after practice. Darron had on a bright blue Aldine High hooded sweatshirt and I thought, "This kid cannot weigh more than 160lbs." Dennis Dixon had just been drafted and most people thought that Justin Roeper was going to be the starter based on his performance in the Sun Bowl and the fact that Nate Costa was injured. Man how things have changed.

I don't want to say more than I have to about the potential of me missing the first half of the game Tuesday (Monday back home). It is too depressing. My plan is to find some games the kids can do without much input from me so I can watch online. I guess I would be even more depressed about this fact if I didn't have Vietnam to look forward to next week.

Yes, our much anticipated vacation is finally less than a week away. The twenty-three day itinerary goes like this: Vietnam (Ho Chi Minh)-Cambodia (Phnom Penh)-Vietnam (Hanoi/Ha Long Bay)-Thailand (Bangkok)-The Philippines (Palawan). The icing on the cake is that after our trip we go back to work for two weeks and then take off again for Bali for nine days. Yep, before you know it it will be March and the snow will be a memory.

In preparation for our trip I have lined out four movies to watch: "Apocalypse Now," "The Quiet American," "Bridge on the River Kwai" and "The Killing Fields." I have yet to see the last two, but feel I must because we have visits planned to both the Japanese WWII bridge in Thailand and the mass Khmer Rouge Graves near Phnom Penh. I watched "The Quiet American" yesterday and have to say that it is almost as good as the book by Graham Greene. Yes, some things were cut out and changed, but doesn't that happen with all movies based on novels?

"Apocalypse Now," of course, is one of the all-time greats and I am pretty sure I could watch it once a month for my lifetime. After my sixth or so viewing the other day I found myself wondering how Kurtz could be so heavy out there with his cult Cambodian followers. He looks fit from the pictures in the classified files taken not so long ago and then of course Willard explained how he finished airborne school at nearly 40 and how physically demanding that is even for 20 year olds. I mean, sure they sacrifice a water buffalo every Sunday night let's say, but still, there are a lot of skinny damn people on that compound (not to mention body parts strewn about, but that's a different topic).

Then I thought, oh it's probably just that Brando got fat.