Swimming in the River Kwai

Mom and Dad have always come home from their holidays saying how much they wish they could do things with their kids like they are able to do in the various tropical places they visit. They talk of ruins, developing cultures, swimming with sea turtles and other things that one can only experience first-hand. Well, Dad and I were able to share one of those experiences whilst we were in Kanchanaburi.

Flowing through Kanchanaburi is the River Kwai. That's right, the historic river of asian death that is renowned for its carnage, and famous for the film named after the rail bridge that crosses it. The Kwai River is actually made of two rivers coming together; the River Kwai Yai and the River Kwai Noi ("yai" meaning "big" and "noi" meaning "small").

My folks, Cheryl, and I all went on a tour one day to various locations around Kanchanaburi such as waterfalls, caves, elephant rides, a train ride on the famous railway, hotsprings and bamboo rafting down the River Kwai Yai. The tour was nice and all but I think the highlight event for both my father and I was the bamboo raft adventure.

We boarded the raft and pushed on down the river. The raft consisted of a bundle of bamboo lined up flat and bound together. The bamboo was enough to keep us afloat with a limited amount of water coming through. Not long after we had embarked on our river tour our boat driver disappeared from the front of the boat proceeded only by a collection of widening ripples upon the water. It appears he had decided it was a hot day and that a dip in the river was the proper medicine for the heat. He surfaced with a smile on his face and the water did look inviting.

It took me about 1.5 seconds to picture myself in the water. It took another 5 seconds to ask our driver if I could also jump overboard. Then it took dad about 8 more seconds to decide that he was coming in after me. Soon we were stripped down to our swimsuits (which were still wet from the hotsprings) and had abandoned our inhibitions to the river.

The River Kwai Yai isn't just called big. The river is wide and at least ten feet deep at its shallow points. We were able to dive clear off the bamboo raft. We swam, jumped, dove, and dunked for several kilometers downstream. The experience was refreshing to say the least. Mom and Cheryl stayed aboard the raft enjoying the smooth ride, taking pictures, and watching Dad and I play in the water.

Finally, I was part of the tropical story sharing the experience with my parents instead of just looking at the pictures and hearing the tale.

I know my parents are getting older but they have taken on Thailand with a fervor matched only by those of adventurous spirit. I can only hope that I have the umption in my gumption to jump from the bamboo to the river when I am in my sixties.

*Note: Above you see pictures of us on the raft, our driver getting in, Mom pushing me off of the raft, me dunking Dad in the water (I add this only to give him a good 'ol punch in the ego), and lastly, the big River Kwai.

Ladies, Ladyboys and Gentlemen

As most people who have been to or heard of Thailand know there is a phenomenon here called the “ladyboy”. A lady boy is a person that would traditionally be considered male but is alternatively considered lady-like. In Canada we refer to people such as this as transvestites, but what a terrible term. “Transvestite” sounds almost like some nefarious vampire, rabid nocturnal creature, or otherwise creature of the night that preys upon some unknowing and innocent victim. Do we use this term as a way of expressing xenophobic feelings of unrest toward these individuals who chose to dress in such a way? I admit, the whole idea of a man dressing like a woman is a bit unsettling as it does countermand so-called “traditional” ideas of sexuality, but does it need warrant anger and fear?

In Thailand they are called ladyboys, such a much more pleasant term than transvestite. The intimation of a lady (a revered woman of social class and grace) and a boy (that which is innocent in its play) brought together paints a picture of playful and respectable fun. The term itself seems to indicate that Thailand is accepting of ladyboys. People are willing to incite a name for them that is pleasant as opposed to fear inducing.

Ladyboys are widely accepted in Thai society. I had heard that but it occurred to me one day when Cheryl and I were in a department store. I noticed several of the staff were ladyboys and I thought to myself that it was a true indication of acceptance. Most businesses in Canada would reject the idea of having a transvestite work up front with the public because the consumer would be likely to feel estranged by their presence, and so, revenue would fall for the business. In Thailand, however, the public is so accepting of ladyboys that they are prevalent in all aspects of society including the regular department store. If a woman can purchase clothing from a man wearing the very clothing she wishes to purchase (and making it look good), then Thailand must be in a position of acceptance. Whether it is mai pen rai, approval, or acceptance, the Thai’s seem happy with the arrangement.

Then there are the ladyboy shows. Elaborate cabarets showcasing the talents of the most talented of ladyboys. Some people are under the impression that these shows are some distasteful sexual display but this is far from the truth. The ladyboy shows are a cabaret showcase of talent. They are full of carefully practiced and performed dance numbers alongside amazing impersonations. The costumes are elaborate colorful, and carefully planned. The whole spectacle is quite an experience.

Shortly after we first arrived her in Thailand Cheryl and I visited a place called Hua Hin. It was in Hua Hin that we first observed the March of the Pigs as many of you have enjoyed reading about. Despite the local sub-trash of the area Hua Hin is actually a very nice place to visit. The restaurants are good, markets are fun, and there is a reasonable beach to swim at. There is also a colorful night life, such as the ladyboys.

One night when we were walking back to our hotel we happened upon some ladyboys passing out flyers for their cabaret. We thought it sounded like fun and would be an experience of the “amazing Thailand” we had been hearing so much about. So we attended the event ready for whatever it may be. The venue was a small place no doubt rented by the performing troupe themselves. They were all hanging out in front of the place and enjoying lively conversation and jokes. We were seated and served at our table and soon the show began. The show started with an elaborate musical number with the whole troupe dancing and putting on a great intro. Following were performances by Cher, Tina turner and Diana Ross, all with backups, superb lipsyncing, and a lot of fun being had by both the performers and the audience. Between the numbers were very short interludes whilst extremely fast costume changes took place. The final number was the kicker with the whole troupe once again and the most amazing outfits we had yet seen.

The whole performance was exciting and fun to watch. At one point I turned to Cheryl and said “This show is like singing in front of the mirror times a million.” because it appeared the performers were having more fun playing their roles than anyone in the audience watching them. I think the players were by far the most entertained but that’s not to say the show wasn’t well worth attending.

Once the fear of difference is put aside one can enjoy the fun of life and see the beauty of people enjoying some good clean fun. As the world progresses to the 21st century it becomes more and more fashionable to embrace acceptance on all levels. But once someone stops being fashionable and truly opens their eyes to the fact that what is different is merely something else they can learn and experience more than just the decisions they have already made about others.

Techno-Monk

Cheryl and I recently visited Cambodia for our Christmas holidays. We visited many beautiful ancient ruins and enjoyed the relaxed culture of Cambodia. But this is a specific story of specific moment with a specific monk.

We stopped into a small internet café to check our emails. Cheryl was sitting on the computer navigating her way around cyber-reality when I noticed that she was sitting at the end of a line of Buddhist monks. The scene struck me as odd, and so, I snapped a picture. Perhaps this is not so incredible an event however it was rather contrary to my preconceived notion of monks and so seemed worthy of a picture. Prior to coming to Southeast Asia my impression of monks was caught up with images of the serene individual caught up in nothing of the outer world, a slave only to inward focus and the need to ascend to greater mental heights. I guess it is a mixture of North American fixation upon eastern religion, misunderstanding of neo-zenistic beliefs, and maybe even some glorification of Tibetan ideals. I admit that my preconceptions are rather naïve yet every time I see a monk handling an 8-mega pixel digital camera, riding on the skytrain amidst the modern towering metropolis of Bangkok, or simply checking his email in an internet café I feel like I am witness to a fish-out-of-water event. Contrast does so lead to drama.

Cheryl began to have trouble working the keyboard of the computer as the keys were insistently sticking. She was becoming animated in her distress and soon the monk beside Cheryl started to giggle at her frustration toward the computer. Perhaps from his point of view he witness the folly and futility of a person becoming angered toward an inanimate object. But the moment did appear quite funny once the out-of-the-box laughter emerged.

When Cheryl finished I took her seat and began to check my email. I opened up a facetious message and began to type a mockery toward Cheryl saying how funny I thought it was that a Buddhist monk was laughing at her for her techno-inabilities. Suddenly I heard the monk laughing over my shoulder as he had clearly busted my attempt at a covert joke involving his influence. I looked at him and he said “Is that message for noone? It is just for fun, yes?” He had immediately picked up on the intended mirth of the moment and pointed it out with no hint of ego. He was formless in his humour and benign in intent. I agreed he was correct. He followed up his expression of merriment by asking if Cheryl was my partner to which I said “Yes, she is my wife and explained how I thought he was funny to notice her predicament with the computer

Night of the Zombie Dogs

We wanted to go to Kanchanaburi but by the time we arrived at the train station there were no more trains going that night. So we looked on the schedule to see what was leaving in the next 15 minutes. There was a train leaving for Ayuthaya, and so the fate of the moon sent us to our imminent evening of the zombie dogs.

The train pulled in gently and then gave a sudden lurch for a stop. It seemed to beckon us forward into the evening. It was not very late by most standards however there was almost noone around. The boats were no longer ferrying people across the channel, and so we were forced to walk the long way around over the bridge and into Ayuthaya. The streets were deserted but for a few souls walking about or simply sitting quietly in the shadows of the buildings. For a small city of one million the silence seemed haunting and surreal as if our surroundings were somehow holding their breath in wait for some as of yet unknown event to occur.

We passed by a a dog who a acted merely as most soi dogs do by simply noticing us with a turn of his head and then turning away. Then we heard the low gruff sound of a growl as he sniffed the air. It was then we noticed the man silently sleeping whilst sitting in a chair beside the mangy moaning dog. We tried to be quiet so as not to wake him but I’m not sure if it was out of respect or fear but the situation seemed to grow steadily stranger with each step as if the breath held around us was slowly beginning to exhale.

We soon found our guesthouse and after a few knocks on the door we were admitted to a room. We asked that we could go out yet as we had not had time for our dinner that evening. And so we ventured forth through the gates of the guesthouse and back into the night.

We assumed that dinner would be close by as the tourist areas of Thailand are usually teeming with small restaurants, internet cafés, and various soi carts and other small venders. But tonight there seemed to be many closed shops and few people. Soon we passed by a dog. We didn’t see him at first as we walked past the shadows but then the shadows seemed to change shape as he poured from them, pushed forth from the blackness as if being released. His back was already bristled preceded only by a growl dull and low, similar to the first dog we had seen. He began to follow us in slow pursuit. I turned toward him with a growl of my own to let him know to leave us be but he shrugged it off and increased speed, lessening the distance between us. When he came close enough for discomfort I finally squared my shoulders, stamped my feet, clapped hands, and growled further. He decided to let off his pursuit and meandered away. Thirty feet later we had a new predator. Another, much larger dog emerged from the shadows headed straight for us.

This is where we decided something was amiss. Soi dogs are a defeated lot. They are akin to the man who lies in the gutter drinking cough medicine, perhaps he isn’t the friendliest man but you would hardly expect him to bother you much less challenge you with a physically threatening fervor. But here we were amidst the k-9 bums of Thailand suddenly deciding to pronounce themselves kings of the night. It was like Mr. Hyde had absentmindedly left his medicine in the trash bin for all soi dogs to consume and we to bear witness to the results.

It appeared the evening had finally exhaled and all the evils of the witching hour were upon us. The dog pursuing us now was larger than the first and appeared to be much more adamant in his pursuit. He trotted along with a threatening arrogance that made me dash any thought of challenging him. We quickly crossed the street and quickened our steps, however, our attempted flight was intercepted by yet another dog. We hastened forward toward the next intersection where we could see some people dining on the corner and an open 7-11 store with bright lights. Perhaps the signs of common civilization gave us a feeling of familiarity to warm our fears amidst the twilight zone we were discovering ourselves in. We closed in on the intersection and began to cross the street when yet another two dogs appeared from the darkness. These new adversaries pursued us at a run with teeth bared and snarls erupting from their gaping maws. I felt sheer panic at this surprise realizing we were between many dogs all seemingly ready to attack.

We immediately turned directly toward the 7-11 store and it was then that I noticed the people eating on the corner were watching us without humour. This struck me as odd because Thai people love to laugh at the folly of falang (Thai for “foreigners”). The fact that they were not laughing illustrated for us the seriousness of our situation. We were not only scared of the dogs, but our fear was not funny to the locals, therefore our fear was warranted and we were in danger. We pressed close in to the locals and entered the 7-11 to take refuge and regroup our thoughts and fears. What was happening? Why were these dogs so heinous in intent to the point of senseless ferocity at random strangers? What was peculiar about tonight that these ordinarily pitiful creatures were acting so vehemently? It was like a bad horror movie where the sun goes down and ordinary things become satanic and extraordinary, except in this picture the writing wasn’t so corny (I hope).

We decided to abandon all hope of finding our supper and just get back to the guesthouse in one piece. We ventured forth into the night once more with only the mission of survival to a place of rest. As we walked we discussed the strange events noting the odd behaviour of the dogs. “I mean, what the hell is going on here? Is it a full moon or something?” As we rounded the next corner we found ourselves aglow in moonlight. The clouds had dissipated for a moment revealing a full, low, lamp-like moon hanging above us in the sky.

It was like the fates were laughing at us with a dark humour. Our musings had given way to reality. Was it actually the moon that had somehow turned these pitiful soi dogs into killers of the night? Who knows, but the moon was full, the dogs were zombies, and we were scared.

On our way back to the guesthouse we were pursued by one more pack of dogs and 2 more individual zombie dogs. The final dog to pursue us was none other than the first dog we had passed on our way into town. It was at that point that the man sleeping beside it arose to pelt the animal with rocks which enraged the dog, however, it did cease its attack. In the future I will remember that rocks are the spiritual anti-thesis to zombie dogs much like garlic is to vampires and silver bullets are to werewolves.

The next morning we awoke and went out for breakfast with no mishaps to report. The sun was high and the shadows had receded including the darkness of the dogs. We saw many of the same dogs that morning which had pursued us the night before, and yet, they were not the same dogs. They were sleeping, lolling about, eating garbage, and being their usual pathetic selves with no gumption in their bellies much less fire of the spirit. They were ordinary soi dogs complete with hopelessness. We joked that they were resting only to conserve their strength for the next full moon but joking is often a mask for discomfort which is what we were left with after the night of the zombie dogs.

Jungle Trekking in Northern Thailand

Three days, two nights, northern Thailand. Trekking through the jungle; crossing streams, bamboo forests, heavy breath, breathtaking views, overnight with a hill tribe. Rafting; both on bamboo and whitewater. From riding the river to riding elephants. This was our trek in Pai. Stop.

Chiang Mai is set in beautiful northern Thailand. It is a small city (a mere one million people) with its own sense of history, beauty, and kindness. To quote the genius of Borat, “I like!”

Cheryl and I had a three-day weekend following our return from India. We took the opportunity by the reigns and booked a three-day trek in Pai, close to Chiang Mai. My parents asked that we peruse the situation to see if it would be something they might like to try. Yes, it is, but unfortunately, this trek is for the young. Sorry, but that’s all folks.

The trek was arduous and adventurous. The first leg was the twelve-hour bus ride to Chiang Mai, which was the usual ho-hum/uneventful experience that one would expect of a bus ride. But then the game was on. We boarded a song-tao and immediately drove out of town into the foray of the wild. We stopped for a brief lunch and learned our itinerary involved a kick-off of several hours of trekking. At this point the most feint of heart in our party quietly put her tail between her legs and took her meek boyfriend with her. I suppose this was Darwin at work and we were soon to find who was the fittest.

After our lunch of rice etc. (the norm in Thailand) we were off at roughly a thirty degree angle up the side of the valley. The vegetation was lush but our guide was not, so we became thankful for our youthful exuberance. However, we soon realized that our guide had more youthful exuberance than all of us put together. He pushed us through at breakneck pace. It appeared “Mr. Whiskey” as he liked to be called was as strong as his namesake. We criss-crossed the river valley hopping on rocks, using tree bridges, and generally scaling the terrain.

We felt like warriors on a mission. Mr. Whiskey was spry and soon we were passing other groups trekking the same wild. It appeared we were the most stalwart in the valley that day. Soon, however, we were all commenting the need to band together in slowing down Mr. Whiskey and enjoying the sights more than just the strain. This we did, and soon we were taking in our breath out of wonder instead of weariness. The views were amazing; lush, panoramic, and exotic. At any time one could turn around and see an entire valley around them stretching on into the sun and the mist. We were in the midst of bamboo forests, rushing creeks, and the jungle that is northern Thailand. I would say it was God’s country but Buddha says godliness is attainable by all; so I suppose we were all gods taking the country for ourselves.

After several hours of trekking and some weary stops we arrived at our final destination for the day, a hill-tribe perched atop the rim of the valley. We walked amidst the bamboo huts observing the free range animals throughout the village. Families were working in various capacities and the children played. Our hosts were kind and we asked for little, just a place to sit and some water. This was our opportunity to get to know our group and begin the fellowship rites of communal living.

Our crew was sorted out from various countries. Representing at our table (or woven mat as it is in northern Thailand) was three Canadians, one Hungarian, one Swedish, four Irish, and of course Mr. Whiskey from Thailand. It was a great mix. We were all between our early twenties and early thirties with backpacks and adventurous spirits. We hardly moved all evening choosing instead to engage in conversation, some music, some spirits, and later, a campfire. Good night.

The second day included a trek to several waterfalls. The hike was similar to the previous day with many precarious crossings and fantastic sites. Along the way there were several stops of small local dwellings where we could purchase a refreshment and rest awhile or eat a meal.

The waterfalls were fun to see. Venturing deep into the wild is fun in itself but to arrive at an auspicious natural location such as a fresh water fall is an event. It makes the whole trek seem like a building towards a goal that does not disappoint. The first waterfall was nice. We took some pictures, at lunch and bought slingshots with which to exercise manly egos; which the men all had fun doing so until the trek continued.

The second waterfall was more adventurous than the first because it was in this one that almost all of us immediately donned our bathing suits and jumped right in. The water was cold, rushing, and exhilarating. Cheryl was kind enough to stay behind the first few minutes and take pictures, but soon she was in the thick of it having natures most refreshing of showers. There isn’t much in life more refreshing than bathing in a natural waterfall.

Near the end of our trekking that day Cheryl and I were also privy to another adventurous aspect of trekking through the jungles in northern Thailand; we saw a wild elephant! Cheryl and I have seen many elephants since coming to Thailand and even rode atop of one named Dodo on our wedding day, but we had never before come across a wild one. As we were walking on the trail we heard some slow but forceful brushing sounds coming from the bushes uphill from us. We stopped to investigate with camera in hand and saw a large elephant lazily munching on all available vegetation and slowly moving forward after each mouthful. They are such peaceful creatures. Although I would never want to be on the receiving end of an angry elephant I have yet to see one.

On the third and final day we did not trek. This day was reserved for elephant riding, white water rafting, and bamboo rafting. The elephant ride was fun. The elephant Cheryl and I were riding appeared to be a mother as there was an adorable little baby elephant that followed alongside us the entire way. We traveled along the sides of the valley and returned to camp beside the river where the elephants stopped to drink.

Next was the white water rafting. This was fun; a little rough at times and relaxing at others. We had some water wars with the other boat holding the rest of our trekking crew. Then we transferred to the bamboo rafts for a soft drifting down the river. This was a very relaxing portion of the trip. We were even lucky enough to drift past an elephant hospital where injured elephants are cared for. One was receiving a bath in the river as we floated by.

Post all our adventures we had a small lunch and then headed back to Chiang Mai to await our bus. The ride home lasted another twelve hours. The bus dropped us off on Kao San Road at five in the morning, so we went home for an hours rest before working at eight a.m. Work hard, trek harder.