Our Replacement Has Arrived!

So many people have asked who would take over our job once we left our village.  Peace Corps Zambia has what is called a "3 generation" model.  Ideally, there are three two-year volunteers back to back over the course of 6 years.  In a perfect example, the volunteers have introduced "sustainable" change/skills to the community, so that after the six years, the community will not have any more need for Peace Corps.  Of course this model is often interrupted by changes within Peace Corps or the village itself.  Since we were first generation (i.e. there had not been other previous volunteers at our site), we pressed hard to get a replacement volunteer since we knew there was still plenty of work to be done.  Knowing the possibility of being replaced by another married couple was rare (there just aren't enough of us!), we advocated for a single fish-farming volunteer to take over our site.

Well, we just got our wish and would like to welcome Kenny as the new Rural Aquaculture Improvement volunteer to our site.  He will officially swear-in at the beginning of May.  Out with the old, in with the new!  In this day and age of technology, which is rapidly increasing in Zambia, Kenny has already begun his blog to chronicle his journey in the Northwest Province of Zambia:

http://kj0505.wordpress.com/

Welcome Kenny, and we know you'll have an incredible time!

Books! (Gina's Post)

One gift Peace Corps Zambia gave us was the opportunity to read lots of books.  With no electricity or internet to distract us and plenty of time on buses, I probably read more books there than in high school and college combined.  Many thanks to friends who sent reading materials and to volunteer organizers of the amazing Solwezi house lending library.  Here's a pretty complete list of the books I read while in Zambia:

1) Nine Hills to Nambokaha
2) Eat, Pray, Love
3) The Ponds of Kalambayi
4) The Celestine Vision
5) Saving Fish from Drowning
6) Where There's no Toilet Paper: Traveler's Tales
7) Animal, Vegetable, Miracle
8) In Patagonia
9) The Secret Life of Bees
10) One Hand Does Not Catch a Buffalo
11) The Sun Also Rises
12) A Long Way Gone
13) The Celestine Prophecy
14) The Help
15) Ishmael
16) The Poisenwood Bible
17) Strength in What Remains
18) Dead Aid
19) Raising Goats for Dummies
20) Cutting for Stone
21) Set This House in Order
22) Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight
23) A Time to Kill
24) Mango Elephants in the Sun
25) The Air We Breathe
26) The Dead Zone
27) The Hithiker's Guide to the Galaxy
28) The Life and Times of Michael K.
29) The Dark Star Safari
30) The Lacuna
31) Water for Elephants
32) Leaf Storm
33) Africa: A Continent Self-Destructs
34) Travel as a Political Act
35) The Trial
36) Monique and the Mango Rains
37) The Testament
38) The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood
39) The Story of Beautiful Girl
40) Norwegian Wood
41) The Boy Who Harnessed the Wing
42) Pecked to Death by Ducks
43) Glimmers of Hope: A Memoir of Zambia
44) The Life of Pi
45) Persuasion
46) What Should I Do With my Life?
47) On Writing
48) The Three Letter Plague
49) A New Earth
50) Hearts in Atlantis
51) The Joy Luck Club
52) The Unheard
53) Island Beneath the Sea
54) The Alchemist
55) Join In: Multiethnic Short Stories
56) Slaughterhouse Five
57) Rich Dad, Poor Dad
58) The Tipping Point
59) 11-22-63

So of course there were lots of books about Zambia and Africa, which I found extremely interesting being then and there.  Other things I've learned: I'm still not a fan of sci-fi, an occasional classic is good for building character, and I'm much more a fan of general fiction than I used to be.  Favorite authors from my Zambia stint: Stephen King, Barbara Kingsolver, Abraham Verghese, and Amy Tan.  Hope I continue this reading trend that Zambia has taught me!

Slideshow of our Service

Please feel free to look at this slideshow, which gives a picture of our entire service.  If you're interested in having one or both of us present at your school or community event, let us know!

Zambia Slideshow

After you get on the link, please click on "present" and then "present from beginning" on the upper right-hand corner and click on each page for your viewing pleasure!  Enjoy.

Hut Videos

Many of you wondered what our hut was like, so here are some videos that Scott took now that we actually have internet speed that will allow us to upload them!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYSPZDDwypw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Jta8J0LRrw

Gina's Reverse Culture Shock Experience #2

I don’t really know if this is a separate experience since it also involves phones, but it happened my 2^nd day in Americaland, so I decided to break my techno-phobe blog into two parts.  Well, realized we could not for even one day exist as Americans living in America without Smartphones, so the first item on the agenda (after a morning detour to snorkel and watch sea turtles at a beautiful beach) was to have our gadget-savvy friend Chris help us buy Smartphones at the local Kauai mall.

Before I get further with this post, I must make a little confession.  I am a Smartphone-virgin.  Before we left for Peace Corps and they were getting crazily popular, I was the hold-out because I didn’t want to start another contract only to have to break it months later.  In Zambia they become somewhat popular in the city, but we had such minimal network coverage in the bush that buying such an expensive device would have been a waste of our living allowance.  So no, I have never in my life owned a device that has a touch screen, music streaming capabilities, or a built-in planner.  I have never in my life downloaded an app.

Just to see what was on the market, we looked online before the big purchase, because of course as unemployed RPCV’s (returned Peace Corps volunteers) we had little disposable income for fancy bells and whistles or expensive monthly fees.  We found that the iphones came out in 4-something and 5-something models, different memory capacities, and a variety of colors.  Of course there were also many iphone knock-off that of course had the same capacities but were a lot less money.  My head was already starting to spin from so many choices. 

We got to the mall playing lovely Hawaiian Christmas tunes, and a Verizon representative greeted us the minute we entered the door.  He personally shook our hands, took down our names, and told us there were 3 other parties waiting before us.  Now that’s customer service!  He said we could browse all the available models and ask our representative if we had any questions.  I didn’t look at any and just wanted the experience to be over, so I stepped out to use the restroom while we were waiting for the sales representative.  When I returned, I saw that Chris and Scott were already chatting it up with the representative.  He was showing us all the newest and greatest versions of iphones. 

Luckily our gadget-savvy friend was able to ask, “but what about all those iphone 4’s, the older model, are you still selling those?”

“Why yes, yes we are.”

“Well they aren’t at the display counter.”

“Well we’re selling them and they cost 99 cents each when you get a plan.”

Knowing that a iphone 4-something would be just as incredible as an iphone 5-something tour our Smartphone-virgin fingers (we’d never experienced versions 1, 2, or 3), Scott and I opted for the budget variety rather than the lastet-and-greatest that would cost us $100-200 extra.  After all, we didn’t really know what we were missing.  Crazily, the fine print noted that the 99-cent devices we were purchasing were worth something like $549 apiece, presumably paid for in the exhorbitant month-by-month fee.  I did not even want to do the math, but by the time the 2 years is up, we will have paid Verizon well over $2,000, about half a year’s stipend when we were living in Zambia.  “We just better not make sure they get lost or broken, since we’ll have to go back to flip phones until our plan ends.”  We were appreciative of Chris’s research, which saved us at least $200, since we didn’t even know the hidden older versions were for sale.

The funniest thing was at the checkout counter when we were asking all sorts of questions and googly-eyed like kids who just got to pre-buy their Christmas presents.  We both had to get new phone numbers.

“Sorry,” I told the clerk “we haven’t had phones for the past 2 ½ years.”

She looked at me blankly like “which planet did you come from?”

I further explained, “ we were living in Africa for the past few years and just used this little thing” as I pulled out my old little Nokia and explained how easy it was to fill the thing up with minutes of prepaid talk-time.

She laughed, and by this time, several other salespeople gathered around us like they couldn’t believe their eyes that people actually lived without a Smartphone.  We were so excited to be getting Smartphones that I think all the customers looked to see what all the fuss was about.

We walked out and I started driving as Scott immediately tested his new GPS and was so enthralled with the program that we missed several key turns.  I vowed that I was going to use mine for phone calls only while in Kauai so as not to detract from the experience of this beautiful island, so I didn’t even turn mine on.

Then . . .  not a creature was stirring all through the house we were staying at and I tiptoed downstairs at 1:30 in the morning, wide awake thanks to jet lag from Thailand.  What to do?  I picked up my book and quickly put it down.  Then I picked up the magical Smartphone, found my way to Facebook, where I could actually look at pictures and type messages, and experienced love with my Smartphone for the very first time.

Needless to say I am no longer a Smartphone virgin.

Gina’s Reverse Culture Shock Experience #1

 We were warned by Peace Corps that it would happen.  Coming home, they said, would be much more of an adjustment than going to Zambia.  You wouldn’t have the luxury of a 3-month “training period” where people would teach you cultural norms.  And quite frankly, after living abroad for so long (29 months to be exact) without stepping foot on American soil, some of the things that people do just wouldn’t make sense.  Even in your home culture . . .

After two short overnight flights crossing several time zones bordered by a 14-hour layover in Korea, I knew conditions were ripe for an emotional meltdown.  Well, it happened in the Kauai airport shortly after arriving in paradise . . . over the subject of cell phones. 

Rewind to the last four countries we’ve been to: Zambia, Malawi, Ethiopia, and Thailand.  My nifty little 9-key Nokia phone worked in all those places without problem.  In fact, within hours of being in each new country, I could pick up $2 pre-paid simcard at any convenience store or market stall with one of the local networks and start contacting anyone I needed.  No models to choose from, data plans to select, setting up online user accounts or billing options.  Register your card at the shop with a valid ID (sometimes), put in your fingernail-sized card that you just bought and go!  No problem. 

Now fast-forward to the perceived luck Scott and I had of getting to Kauai 5 hours EARLIER than expected because there was room on a standby flight.  All we wanted to do after nearly 48 hours of continual travel was find our friends Chris and Yuki’s house and crash.  Problem was, both of our drivers’ licenses had expired while in Zambia, and I had my renewed one mailed to their house.  They didn’t know we were going to arrive 5 hours over to meet us at the airport with license in hand so we could actually rent a car.  Another culture shock as this was the first place you actually needed a driver’s license to get where you wanted to go.  No tuk-tuks or taxis just waiting to pick people up.

Problem with calling our friends to tell them we arrived early was . . . phone didn’t work at all.  No network signal on my cheap multinational ZamPhone, and no convenience stores to buy a $2 simcard.  God bless America.  I was going to ask fellow passengers if I could borrow a phone for a second to make a quick call, but by the time we got out of the “no cell” area, people were dispersed and busy with their baggage pickup and hotel and rental car shuttles.  I lugged out the computer hoping for a wireless network like they had in all the other airports we were in, but of course there was none.  God bless America.  How were we going to get a hold of our friends, who had out-of-state cell phones as many Americans do?  Why a pay phone of course.  Never mind we had no American change, and knew a non-local call would be expensive.  The airport information lady politely informed us that there were no longer pay phones in the airport.  She was happy to let me use her landline to make a local call, but unfortunately the number I had wasn’t local.  That’s when the meltdown happened.

I laid on the bench of the now-empty airport as all my other fellow passengers had grabbed their rental cars to explore paradise, and let Scott try to figure out how the heck to reach our friends.  After a few minutes trying the TSA people and a few other employees, no luck.  No employees would let us borrow their cell phone, probably as a matter of national security or something.  So . . . we did all we could think of and took the shuttle to the rental car place, knowing we’d be stuck until our friends delivered my license.

Luckily, the car rental agency wasn’t as strict as the TSA and would let us make a call to a long-distance cell phone so I could actually get a driver’s license and get some real sleep.  We got a hold of Yuki, who was so excited we were there, but was not expecting us that early and had some obligations, and said she would call when she was able pick us up. 

“Can I just call you at the number that you texted us a few days ago?” she asked

“No, that’s our Thailand phone.”

“Oh, then how will you know when I’m coming?”

“Um . . . just call the rental car 1-800 number and hope you can get through?”

What did we do before cell phones?

After what seemed like hours of sitting on the bench watching tourist after tourist getting their wheels for paradise, the another sales agent said, “well what are you waiting for?” 

“My driver’s license.”

“Oh, that’s important.”

“Could I at least start the car rental paperwork now?”

“No, we have to see your license first.”

When Yuki finally got through to the 1-800 number and arrived at the car rental place, she gave me the magic envelope with my brand new license that I renewed online through WA state.  I gave it to the lady still stuck to the original letter, neglecting to explain that I had less than 4 solid hours of sleep in the last 48 hours and also that I hadn’t driven a single vehicle for the past 29 months.

“Just pick any compact car from the parking lot.  The keys are in the door.”

And it was as easy as that.  Aloha and welcome back to the USA.

Korean Interlude (Gina's post)

I was quite dreading going to Korea.   We chose the cheapest way of getting from Thailand to Hawaii, which meant a 5-hour overnight flight to Incheon (near Seoul), Korea, a 14-hour layover at that airport, and a 7-hour overnight flight to Honolulu.  Not only a crazy journey, but we would start and end it on the same DAY due to crossing the international date line, as if being herded around the world never happened.  It would literally be the longest day of our lives, and all I could think about was getting some sort of hotel in Korea during the long layover so we weren’t completely exhausted when we arrived in Hawaii.

I called the airlines to see if they would provide a hotel room because of the long layover.  The lady at the call center politely stated that unfortunately the airline wouldn’t be able to cover that expense since they were booked through a budget website (gotta love Budgetair).  So, I got online to book a room near the airport myself.  That’s when I did a little research to find out all the things that the Incheon airport has to offer.

Of course, first priority was probably sleep, so I was excited to see a blog to show that the airport was highly rated in the world among airports where you could actually get decent rest.  They had several passenger lounges with reclining seats and long benches without those annoying armrests.  Incheon also offers free massage chairs, a TV lounge, and showers so passengers in transit can literally make themselves at home.

Scott catching some zzz's in between flights.

Then . . . I saw the clincher which changed my mind from booking a hotel room—Incheon airport offers tours of Seoul for passengers on a layover.  That’s right.  You just get off your plane, show them your boarding pass for the next flight, and they whisk you away to see some of the city sites before your next flight. 

When we actually arrived, we went straight to the lounge to get a couple hours sleep as planned.  While Scott continued to nap, I explored the arts and crafts center, where passengers could do traditional Korean crafts for free and checked my e-mail.  Scott was impressed by the Korean language exhibition that gave a very informative lesson how the alphabet developed after the Japanese occupation.  With more than seven hours remaining at the airport, we decided that we’d go on the 5-hour afternoon day tour and went to the information booth to see how much it would cost us.  On the way, we saw traditionally-clothed airport employees processing through the airport in some sort of parade.  When we finally found the day tour desk, the attendant said we only had to pay for lunch and the temple entrance fees.  Transport and a guide were FREE, courtesy of the airport.  He showed us how to go backward through the customs line (a little awkward) to get some type of a day permit on our passports.  We found ourselves in a mini van with our guide, Kim, a slight middle-aged woman, and one other tourist from LA who had a layover in Korea from the Phillipines.

Cultural parade.

Scott and I visiting one of the colorful palaces.

The hour-long trip from Incheon to Seoul reminded me much of the Pacific Northwest with misty grey skies parting for some bursts of blue and looming mountains in the background.  Kim said that hiking is very popular with the Seoul locals on the weekends.   We also crossed a large river with residents jogging, cycling, and utilizing park exercise equipment along its banks.  Kim explained the city’s history and politely answered any questions we had about the city.  We stopped at Changdoek Palace, a very well-maintained former royal palace housed in the city center that was reconstructed after the Japanese occupation and an active Buddhist temple in the city center.  After coming from Thailand, I thought I had my fill of temples, but this was the first one where we saw an active prayer ceremony.  Kim said Korea hosts a fairly even mix of Christians and Buddhists, with some agnostics thrown in as well.  We ended the tour at Seoul’s Insadong street and ate a traditional Korean meal of soup, and rice with a bunch of toppings that Kim told us to add one-by-one and keep stirring and stirring.  Although she gave us time for “shopping,” Scott and I thought we were weighed down with enough stuff from Zambia, Ethiopia, and Thailand.  The chill in the air reminded me that I had no warm clothes, so I picked up a pair of flannel-lined pants and a purse.

Eating traditional Korean food.

University freshman practicing their English by asking Scott questions about his impressions of Korea.  "Well, I've only been here 5 hours, but . . . your airport is really nice!"

We jumped back in the van ready to get back to the airport with a few hours to spare before our next overnight flight to Honolulu.  We stopped on our way back to the relaxation lounge to see a free opera concert happening in the main terminal!  After passing through the fastest security line that I’ve ever been to at any airport in my life, we were back at the terminal with time for a hot shower before our next flight.  They even provided the shampoo, soap, and hair dryer at no charge.

Opera in the main terminal seems to be a daily event.

So, if you just happen to have a 14-hour layover in Korea . . . fear not.  You will have PLENTY to do, or not do.  I would definitely rate it as the best airport experience of my life, even through it was on the longest day of my life :).

Southern Thailand

Gina and I took the sleeper train from Bangkok to southern Thailand.  It was the first time I had been on a sleeper train but I was so tired that I was asleep for about 99% of the trip so I don't remember much except that it was similar to being constantly being shaken in my mother's arms as a small child. 

 Images of the present king since 1946, Bhumibol Adulyadej, are at nearly almost all public (and many private) places.  As you can see this isn't just a 8 x 11 glossy behind the desk like there are in government buildings in U.S.A.  There were many this size, often with flowers in vases below.  At first I thought everyone just loved their king, but I learned later that people could get in trouble for not respecting their king at all times.  One expression of this was to stand up during the national anthem played once in the morning, around 8 am, and once in the evening.  If a national doesn't, they will expect to be spoken to by the Thai police if they are around.

This is the view of Golden Buddha resort as we approached it on Ko Phra Thong (co-pra-tong) island.

This was our lodging at the Golden Buddha resort.  The right side opens up to the covered deck in a similar sliding door fashion, making the place roomy and bright.  It was easy to just hang out here when it was raining or even when the sun was shining.  The second floor loft helped us spread out too.  The restaurant and lounge was built in a similar style but about 30 times the square footage.

 Gina found the resort by googling "beach yoga kayak thailand".  Yoga classes were offered twice a day, everyday, and she did not miss a one.

This was our practically-private beach at the resort.  I am standing on a hill from which you can watch sea turtles feeding close to the shore near the rocks to the right.

Sunset from the beach on Ko Phra Thong was amazing.

After enjoying the seclusion of Ko Phra Thong island, we headed to Railay beach, where adventure sports meet amazing topography.  It had the social feel of Ocean City Maryland but set in a jungle.  Besides snorkeling, zip-lining, kayaking, sport-fishing, and hiking, it is well known for its climbing, which I tried out within hours of being on the island.  I am on the rock in the orange shirt.  I was also the only one wearing a climbing helmet.

 

 Kayaking brought us up close and personal with wave-carved karst outcroppings like this one.

Long boats are the way to get back and forth from the nearest large town, Krabi, and the Railay beach.  There is a road but no self-respecting tourists take it.

 The sunsets off of Railay beach were pretty nice, too.

Because of the protests in Bangkok as we came through the capital near the end of our trip to Thailand, we stayed outside the city center and bided our time at one of the many malls in Thailand.  This one had 7 levels, all with several restaurants, boutique stores, department stores, doctor's offices, and snack vendors.  We went to see the second installment of the Hunger Games at the cineplex on the 7th floor, complete with reclining chairs, amazing sound, and beer.

Thailand Tidbits (Gina's Post)

Gina’s Thailand Post

We knew we were on a completely different continent the moment we stepped off the plane . . . mostly because for the first time in a very long time we didn’t have to disembark the plane via steps onto the tarmac.  There was actually a tunnel that connected straight to the Bangkok airport!  After the customs lady politely informed us that we needed to go back through the Yellow Fever line since we were coming from Africa.  When we were all cleared for that, we put a bag in the airport storage, and headed for the Sky Train.  Even after the exhaustion of the overnight flight, Scott and I couldn’t help but marvel at the efficiency of moving people from one place to another in Bangkok. The train was so smooth and just whizzed over traffic!  We got to the northernmost stop on the line and headed for the bus station to Chiang Mai via taxi.  No bartering over muzungu prices . . . just a meter that told us how much we owed.

At the bus station, we had our first taste of local Thai food and were awed by the various noodle and rice bowls with different types of meat or curries available.  Just like Ethiopia, the vendors couldn’t speak a word of English, so it was more of a “point and choose” type of game, but for around $1 per meal, couldn’t complain.  We were also surprised by the number of locals eating at KFC next door, but we did not want to venture yet into American chain stores.

Scott posted about the luxurious 1^st class VIP bus on the way, so I’ll spare the details on that one, but let’s just say that we took a 2^nd class double-decker bus on the way back to Bangkok that wasn’t nearly as nice, so Thailand isn’t a complete fairy tale.  Anyway, we arrived in Chiang Mai that morning feeling like we actually got some real sleep, and immediately started walking around the city.  The most amazing thing coming from Zambia and Ethiopia was the sheer variety of restaurants and retail stores packed into such a small space.  There were Thai massage,  haircuts, travel agencies, high-end purses, street food vendors, Thai handicrafts, coffee shops, McDonald’s and organic places where you could get a full American breakfast all within a few compact blocks.  There were people walking around the streets from every country you could imagine, and besides Disneyland, I hadn’t seen so many foreigners in one place in my life.  There were also giant temples and yellow-robed monks to complete the picture.  The second thing we did in Chiang Mai was take almost all of our completely worn-out Africa clothes to a proper Laundromat to see if some of the red dirt and grime could be mechanically washed out of them.  So exciting not to have to wash clothes by hand!

The next few days in Chiang Mai were spent gawking at every consumer item available for sale, visiting some temples and cultural sites, and eating real breakfast with coffee every morning.  That was topped off by Thai massages, a rooftop swimming pool experience and a hike to the surrounding mountains where we were able be herded through a “traditional” Thai rural village.  We also tried to rest during the days, since the evenings were like 4^th of July for five days in a row.  Locals and tourists alike gathered in the streets and on the riverbanks to set off firecrackers, release floating lanterns, and make little boats called krathongs as an offering to the river gods.  Most of the activity happened in the evenings near the riverbank, but the evening with the most activity had a Thai beauty pageant and parade through town.  One evening when we met up with our Peace Corps Zambia friends Chad and Jenna, Scott and I tried our own hand at releasing a lantern, and we were proud to say it raised itself into the sky without crashing and burning in the neighboring trees like so many others were doing.  Many of the temples were open during festival nights as well to show visitors Thai music, dancing, and the ancient craft of spinning and weaving the monks’ robes.  Although a bit overwhelming to the senses at first, Chiang Mai had a magical spirit that especially came to life during the evenings of the Loy Krathong festival.

But alas, we headed back to Bangkok on an overnight bus that was about 20 times worse than the one we arrived in and broke down several times along the way.  Then, it started raining outside and on us through a leak in the vent of the upper story of this double-decker bus.  So, can’t give props for all  buses in Thailand, but the latter was booked through a travel agent in Chiang Mai, so buyer beware! We hopped on the Sky Train to the train station, where I thought we’d be waiting around all day for our overnight train down south.  In an unexpectedly surprising day, we found that the Bangkok train station had both secure luggage storage and was located very near the central part of town (totally unheard of for African bus stations), so it would be silly not to explore the city for the day, even in our groggy state.

After nearly losing our lives crossing about 6 lanes of traffic coming out of the Bangkok train station, a helpful businessman directed us to an old canal to follow that would lead us to the river.  From there, we could take the public river taxi for about 50 cents to the Grand Palace.  Scott and I had no idea that was going to be our destination that day, but after glancing at the Lonely Planet, we realized it was one of those must-see tourist sites for every visitor to Bangkok.  And probably about 1,000 other people had the same idea that day, from backpackers to people in huge tour buses.  Scott said the lines and excitement for seeing this royal enclosure rivaled Buckingham Palace in London.  Luckily we both happened to be wearing full-length pants from the bus ride because the palace dress code wouldn’t accept anything shorter for guys or gals . . . about half the tourists had to buy Thai-style trousers from hawkers at the gate.  It was easy to become lost among the crowd, but even easier to become lost among the gorgeous temples and Buddhist murals found in the temple enclosure, or the royal palaces that housed (and still house) kings and diplomats.

We tried to make our way to another park with tourist attractions, but fatigue from the overnight bus got a hold of us, so we wandered back through Chinatown on the way to the train station and ate plenty of delicious street food along the way.  The train itself was a long chain of sleeper cars that slept 16-20 people each filled with locals and tourists alike.  They gave us fresh sheets, pillows, and curtains for privacy and Scott and I soon passed out as we slowly chugged our way to Southern Thailand.  The morning light through the open window revealed humid air and lush green scenery before stopping at Surat Thani, a sleepy southern Thai town with absolutely no tourist attractions and plenty of pouring rain. 

Our beach destination for southern Thailand: the Golden Buddha Beach Resort, an eco-lodge on the on a deserted 12-km beach on island of Koh Phra Thong on the Andaman sea.  Because of the boat schedule, we stayed inland in the small city of Takua Pa, and were treated to a $10/night room with a balcony, delicious street food and very friendly locals.  Because we were absolutely the only tourists around, we definitely had to use pointing gestures for food as we stumbled across a delicious local restaurant serving dessert Thai pancakes.  Yum!  Finally we made our way on a local bus to the pier for the Golden Buddha Beach Resort, and hopped on a longtail boat which dropped us on a crescent-shaped beach with long lines of coconut groves and not another soul in sight reminiscent of a desert island in the movies.  The next five nights blended together with amazing images of long desolate walks on the beach, twice-daily yoga, swimming in warm turquoise water, mischievous monkeys trying to break open coconuts on rocks, and intermittent thunderstorms and sun.  We slept every night in a treehouse-like bungalow complete with king-sized bed and hardwood carvings and awoke to the sound of waves crashing against the shore.  After hearing about Thailand’s crowded beach resorts, I wasn’t sure a place like this existed, but indeed it does.  Paradise!

Unfortunately the reverie was broken mostly by budget and the need to make it back to Bangkok and on toward home.  Scott chose one more beach destination before we left, which was Railay, famous for having over 500 bolted rock-climbing routes and huge columns of rocks called karsts jutting out of the ocean.  Just like the palace in Bangkok, it was far too many muzungos in one place, all showing more skin than we’d seen in the past 2 ½ years, mostly with accompanying young, tan, chiseled bodies.  At least we were able to do most of the advertised adventure activities, including rock climbing, kayaking, and snorkeling, all within walking distance from our cookie-cutter hotel.  We spent Thanksgiving night searching for some type of American food place, but alas, only found a restaurant that advertised minestrone soup, which turned out to be a vegetable broth, said to each other what we were thankful for, and ended the evening with cocktails in the rain on an anchored boat restaurant.  Definitely a Thanksgiving to remember!

We took one more overnight bus back to Bangkok, this time one that didn’t have individual TV screens, but the recliner seats had a massage option!  It dumped us at 4am at a random bus station, but at least I saw the early morning crowd exercising at Mo Chit park, which reminded us of Central Park.  We took a shot at Couchsurfing Bangkok and got a local perspective of the city from the top of a penthouse on the 22^nd floor, and walked to the nearest shopping mall for a little more “readjustment” to American culture.  And we got it . . . between Annie’s Pretzels, Dunkin’ Donuts, and a 5-story Christmas tree, this 7-story mall was buzzing with both shoppers and Thais out to see and be seen.  We watched the Hunger Games, the first show we’d seen in a movie theater for about a year and stood up with the rest of the audience after the 20 minutes of ads/previews to salute the King of Thailand during a song and slideshow.   As we left the theater, we again gawked at the consumer-driven Christmas culture, but did end up buying a few gifts of our own!  Definitely a stark difference from Ethiopia just a few weeks before, where Christmas (January 7^th) is spent praying and giving gifts to the poor.

There were rumors of riots in Bangkok from opposing parties, so we decided to stay away from the city center for our last day there.  Unfortunate, because the palace/river was beautiful and we were hoping to spend another day there.  Anyway, we rented a hotel to rest before two overnight flights surrounded by the longest day of our lives—December 3^rd, which probably lasted around 48 hours due to crossing the international date line. 

And ready to set foot on American soil for the first time in 29 months!

Northern Thailand

 

In Chiang Mai, during the Loi Krathong festival, I’d never seen so many different kids of meat on a stick.

During the Loi Krathong festival, the Buddhist temples in Chiang Mai, and many larger cities in Thailand, were all lit up and many were open to visitors.

Even at the temples, people were invited to take part in the Loi Krathong festival.  This part of it involved lighting a lantern/air balloon and letting it rise into the night sky.  I never got a good explanation for the lanterns but the “river wreaths”, also lit with candles but let free onto the river, were meant to be “thanks to the river goddess for providing life to the fields and forests and asks for forgiveness for the polluting ways of humans (Lonely Planet 2012).  Apparently the river goddess doesn’t mind all the styrofoam, wax candles, and other bits of plastic on the wreaths that have been jettisoned into her river.

During the Loi Krathong festival, the real stars that you can’t see because of the big city lights are replaced with thousands of candle lanterns set off by Thais and tourists alike.





Ancillary to the Loi Krathong festival is a parade showing off Thai tradition and culture.   Like the lanterns and river wreaths, the show is on at night!

Parade detail

If the river recedes after the nighttime festivities of the Loi Krathong festival, the banks are covered in the debris of wreaths.





Buddhist temples are always extravagantly ornamented, dragons being a recurring theme.  Another reoccurring but not necessarily ubiquitous theme is a sign at the entrance to the temples that reads “no women allowed”.  Apparently they don't want the monks to be "tempted."

 

On a day-trip north of Chiang Mai, Gina crosses a stream for a chance to swim in a waterfall pool.

Wat Phra Kaew in Bangkok is the name of the compound that includes the Temple of the Emerald Buddha and the monarch of Thailand’s residence.  It’s kind of like a somber-feeling Disney World in that you are surrounded by architectural eye-candy, BUT in a religious setting. 

Wat Phra Kaew, in the religious bit.

 Wat Phra Kaew, in the religious bit.

Wat Phra Kaew, but buildings related to the King and everything monarchial.

The food in Thailand has been consistently good everywhere from high-end tourist restaurants to these outdoor stands where you get all this for $1 dollar (30 bhat).

An African Traveler's Dream (Scott's)

Gina posted about bus travel in Zambia some time ago.  Bus travel in Ethiopia was marginally better.  Now, contrast that to bus travel in Thailand.  The first thing one notices is that the bus stations are real-deal bus hubs, with bus platforms and food courts, clean bathrooms (but you still have to pay for their use),  TV’s with news and music videos and commercials featuring bright red shiny tractors, and ticket booths with computers and price lists.  The bus stations in Zambia were little more than dirt patches surrounded by tin sheet and concrete shacks. 

Now get on the bus.  In our case that was about 8:45 pm for a 9 pm start time.  Instead of 5 seats across (3 seats and 2 seats with an aisle in the middle) there are 3 seats (2 seats and 1 seat separated by an aisle) in about the same width of bus that boasts clearly that it is 15 meters long.  These are similar to first class airplane seats.  There is a bathroom on the bus (which turned out not to be a great thing by the end of the trip after it got used), personal TVs installed in the seat in front of you complete with movies, videos, tourist attractions, games (yay Sudoku!), fully reclining seats, pillows, blankets, and headphones in the seat pocket.  

The bus starts off on time.  The bus doesn’t swerve every few minutes to avoid potholes, goats, or children in the road.  You get a little box of convenience foods and bottled water delivered to your seat shortly after starting off.  There is a 36-inch TV in front of the bus with announcements about what to expect on your bus ride, followed by Thai music videos, and then turns off around midnight to let those who want to sleep to do so while others continue to be entertained by their personal TV.  Half-way through the trip there is a half-hour stop where you actually have time to go the bathroom AND get something to eat, which can be paid for with your bus ticket meal voucher, no extra charge!  When you get off the bus to stretch you don’t get hassled by three guys trying to sell you a taxi ride, sunglasses, or some disgusting meat product in an open plastic bag.  You DO have many different food options in a clean food court and no one hardly takes notice of you unless you ask them a question, at which time they become very serious in their effort to try to help you using hand gestures and pointing since no one knows English.  After you get back on the bus which you are actually looking forward to doing because it’s so comfortable and there is on-bus entertainment and have finished your snack that the bus service has already paid for, the bus attendant gives you ANOTHER drink, this time hot sweet tea.  After getting tired of your on-bus entertainment you can recline your chair into almost horizontal and actually sleep a bit after you cozy up with your flannel blanket and satin neck pillow. 

At sun up, about 9 hours after the bus started, the TV comes back on with a quiet pop-thai-music video and then a friendly announcement about how you are about to arrive at your destination and to be sure to collect all your belongings and get your luggage ticket out to collect your checked baggage.  This all comes to you for about the same price as a similar length trip in Zambia, about $30 US dollars.  By comparison the Zambia bus is about 10% of the comfort of the Thai bus and 200% the hassle.  Gina told me afterward that she was reading how the bus service in Thailand is subsidized by the government.  That explained the comfort and service to a point, but for a traveler from Africa I had to wonder why Zambia couldn’t organize a bus service at least 50% of the value of the Thailand bus, even without subsidization.  Gasoline is more expensive in Zambia, close to $2 US dollars per liter versus a little over $1 / liter in Thailand.  Oh well, now I have to start getting comfortable with the fact that I probably will never get as nice a bus in America as I experienced in Thailand.  Oh America! I’m coming home.

Final Ethiopia Pictures

This is the inside of a coffee shop in Addis Abeba called Tomoca.  We were the only foreign customers that we could identify in the place.  Some Ethiopians won't set foot in these places because it does not include the full coffee experience in traditional Ethiopian culture: freshly roasting the coffee beans, burning incense, pounding the coffee beans, brewing the coffee in a clay pot, having a small snack to go with the coffee, and three cups of the caffeinated stuff in row.  Note the clock showing 3:41 on the wall.  In European time it was 9:41 in the morning.

I talked this tourist vendor down from 150 Birr (~$7.5 dollars) to 50 Birr (~$2.5) for a clay coffee pot.  I think a local Ethiopian could have got it for about 30 Birr.  Anyway, if it makes it intact back to Yakima I want to try to recreate the traditional coffee ceremony for people who are interested.

Northern Ethiopians play a game on a billiard table called "Karambula".  It is like a cross between lawn bowling or bocce ball in that you throw one of the four balls with your hand, but like pool in that you have 6 pockets the ball could go and your are playing on a velvet covered piece of slate.  But in this game you DO NOT want your ball to land in the pockets.  Also there are 5 tiny pegs (seen to the left near the blue ball) that you are not allowed to hit.

During one of our guided hiking trips our guide brought us into a traditional Ethiopian.  Here is the wood burning cooking stove with three different "burners".  One on the left is for roasting things like barley, one on the right is for baking injera, the traditional thin pancake staple food made out of a grain called "teff".  The one in the middle is for cooking in a regular pot.

Ethiopians love to get their shoes cleaned.  Shoe cleaning and shining is everywhere.  Cleaning cost 5 Birr (25 cents).  They were not sure what to do with my boots, but they got a kick out of cleaning the faranjis' shoes.  Faranji is amharic for "foreigner".

This is the view from our hotel in Adigrat.  This was a refreshingly non-touristy town where people were so tickled to have foreigners staying in their town they forgot to inflate the prices for everything.

In Lalibela, our guide explains to us how this church carved into bedrock came about.  All of these tourist attractions are used daily if not weekly by the local people in Lalibela.  There is always a priest (center of picture) keeping an eye on things.

Before you enter any church, everyone must take off their shoes and leave them outside.

Scott looks out of a window from the priests room, also carved completely out of rock.

Imagine the amount of rock excavated in the 14th century to create this church.  The metal "awning" over the church is to help stop the erosive processes of rain and rain seepage through the rock from which the church is created. 

Gina enters one of many rock churches.

We caught this priest napping in one of the rock churches.  He's probably been up since very early (like 4am) leading morning prayers.

Another rock church with similar awning.  This one was not separated from the rock at the top, but there is excavation on all sides.  The priests were just coming out of this church from a holy day Mass.

This "alley"  through the rock is where the priests and monks live who take care of the churches.  Their homes are caves carved into the rock.

As a respite from the hassle of alleged tour guides in the town of Lalibela, Scott and Gina took a hike up a nearby mountain.  Little did they know that the little kids who lived on the mountain were learning how to be tour guides one day and were even more adamant that we buy one of their trinkets.

The markets in Ethiopia all sell unroasted coffee so that people can roast it themselves for personal coffee ceremonies in their homes.  There are usually several grades to buy, usually visibly different because of the amount of "chaff" mixed in with the beans.

In Addis Abeba, we had a big hotel room with a balcony overlooking the city for $12 a night.

One of the reasons we stayed at the hotel that we did in Addis Abeba was for the adjacent jazz club.  We saw two shows, the first of which had a band called "Addis Acoustic Project".  The accordian that this guy was playing only came out for a few songs, but they even made THAT work in their repertoire.

On our last days near Addis, we went to a local resort called Sodore.  The place was crawling with monkeys and actually smelled like a mixture of monkey poop and flowers all the time.  Nonetheless, everyone seemed to love the monkeys, as evidence by this "shrine" attributed to them by the hotel management.