Kolkata: My last day in Kolkata I went to visit Kali Temple at Kali Ghat. Sometimes I wonder why I bother with tourist places. I took the subway from Park St, near Sudder St. The subway worked easily enough... go to a ticket window to get the ticket, then board the train. I intently peered out the windows at every stop looking for the English signs denoting the name of the station. I got out at the right stop, and didn't have a decent map of Kolkata, so I remembered the general direction to the Kali Temple and started walking. I found myself in a delightful local neighborhood on a small market street lined with stalls selling vegetables and fruits and meats. Not many people and very few cars. Definitely not a tourist area as no one approached me. So refreshing. I wandered onwards and discovered some crematoriums along the river. I checked one of the them out, not sure if it was the temple or not. Onwards I strolled through the quiet neighborhood until a man sitting at a tea stall called and waved me over. I decided to ignore my initial response to keep walking in a land full of touts. My action proved good as I was treated to some chai by some local business men. Only one spoke much English. The others asked questions through him. It was nice and sincere. Plus we were able to communicate some more complicated thoughts beyond the usual: what is your name? where are you from? first time india? are you married? why not? We talked of exchange rates and prices in the US... so many times people think that US money is as big in the states as it is in India. After a good 30 minutes, I left with a fond memory of some nice folks. As I walked onwards, I passed a group of young men playing caroom. They motioned me over and bought me chai. I felt a bit uncomfortable as they seemed to make fun of me. Soon a friend of theirs showed up who spoke better English. We enjoyed some nice talk as well. My suspicions were confirmed when he berated one of his friends for joking about me in Hindi. He showed me his motorcycle... a prized possession. He was the only son in a family of six and enjoyed monetary benefits for the fact. He explained how he was a bit wreckless with the money buying motorbikes. After 30 minutes or so, I parted... on parting he told how he'd be happy to play tour guide for me and my friends at 500 rs / day.
I was ready for some down time as I left... the strain of communication, and the unsurety of where one stands with a group can be draining. I found my way to Kali Temple and was led in by a self appointed guide. It was a mob scene of Hindis. I'm not sure if I saw any other tourists. I warily, and hesitantly stepped in to the mayhem. My guide said I needed to wash my hands with flowers and as I stood a bit spellbound by the massive crowd and commotion, he got some flowers and incense for me. I smelled a rip off, but wasn't bold enough to leave. He said the goods were 10rs, and that I could pay later. He took me to the front of the long line and into a crowded anteroom and led me through the crowd to a viewing point of the Kali statue which was hidden behind crowds. There was fighting and pushing in the room where the statue was. Luckily I wasn't Hindu so I wasn't able to go there. After several minutes of me thinking I ought leave, the crowd parted for a moment and I saw Kali. Then my guide led me out and around to another anteroom where a "priest" stood by a decorated tree. He led me through praying for my family and hanging my flowers on the tree. Then came the "money shot". He showed me a book where visitors signed and put how much they donated. On the page were Japanese visitors who allegedly gave 2500rs or more each... like $75 USD. He asked me to write down what I wanted to donate. He wanted me to write down the amount before I looked in my wallet, which I ought to have done as my thought was to give 20 rs, or maybe 40rs. My guide had slyly pointed to an area which he said was a kitchen out of which they fed the poor. I doubted it. The priest suggested 500rs and indicated that I would be honoring my country as I signed in the guestbook. I looked in my wallet and unfortunately only had a 100rs note and a 5 rs note. I wasn't bold enough to only give 5rs. So I gave the 100rs. The guide and priest suggested I ought to give more, but backed off when I shaked out my wallet and showed them there was nothing more. They quickly dismissed me and somehow waved my payment for the flowers and incense and also for the shoe stand where you leave your shoes for the mandatory barefoot approach to the sacred space.
I quickly left. Angry at the ripoff scheme and at myself for falling into it. The temple didn't feel at all powerful to me and my prayers didn't feel answered. I spent my last 5 rs on some fresh pressed cane juice, and proudly showed my empty wallet when beggars approached me. I spied a lot of red thread in the nearby street stalls, and realized I ought to have bought some and wrapped my wrist before I went in. The priest had wrapped my wrist as a blessing with the same colored yarn. I realized that a good practice when visiting such temples would be to first buy the yarn outside, the wrap yourself so that the touts would think you had already been ripped off. I stewed a bit angry at the perversed spirituality of stripping tourists of ridiculous sums for blessings that didn't feel real. I thought how much futher my 100rs would have gone at Mother Teresa's. Then I tried to let go of my anger. I walked down a side alley to a river and watched a couple of guys sift through river sludge for things of value. Some kids swam. About 8 m upstream a little boy shit in the river and a young man peed. An older man came with his offerings for the river (flowers and such for the gods). He threw them in along with the plastic bags he they came in from the vendor. No sense of pollution here. I tried not to let it stretch my mind. You just have to watch sometimes as an outsider in a foreign culture and try not to judge.
Later that night, Martina and I boarded the train to NJP... the nearest train station to Darjeeling. It was a typical train ride in India. We road 2nd class sleeper which is fan as opposed to air conditioned. The seats are long benches that serve as cots. Three people sit on a bench. When it is time to sleep, two benches folded against the wall above the lowest one are dropped down and everyone goes to bed. It is reasonably comfortable, more so than reclining seats used in the U.S. on buses and trains. The vinyl was sticky and grimy... if I'd been smart I'd have packed a sheet or something. I awoke early and watched the villages of the plains pass by. Mud thatch houses and water buffalo. We pulled into NJP station early in the morning and found four other westerners in our car. We decided to travel together to Darjeeling.
First we had breakfast at a local place near the restaurant. There was no menu and we ordered what the locals were eating. Puri sabji. Puri are fried chapati. Sabji is stewed potatoes, sometimes with chickpeas. Me and another fellow ordered some curd. When we paid the bill, we found out the error of making assumptions. They tried to charge us 40 rs each for the puri sabji, which usually runs 10-15rs in such places; and 20 rs for each curd, which is normally 5-10rs. We balked and argued the prices and ended up just leaving what we felt was appropriate. It was then that one of our travel mates said that in the train station restaurant prices are regulated and cheap! I had steered away from the train station vendors because in the U.S. such places are usually more expensive.
We took at share taxi to Shiliguri where we got a jeep for Darjeeling. It was a long 4 hour ride on winding roads. The first thing different was the driving habits. In the mountains, they actually back up. And horn honking is used to signal approaches on blind curves. The roads are often single lane or one and a half. So sometimes one vehicle backs up to a wider spot so oncoming vehicles can pass. Mountain drivers in India, I feel are some of the best drivers in the world. Often passing each other with only an inch or two of clearance!
The mountain villages provided quite different scenery from the hubbub of Kolkata. Steep hillsides. Steep switchbacks on the roads. We passed a baby defecating on a piece of newspaper in the road. We arrived in Darjeeling to find most of the hotels full of Bengali tourists. It took a couple hours to find a place that had rooms for us all and was reasonably priced. We settled in to the hill station of Darjeeling.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Friday, May 25, 2007
Kolkata Kolkata Wahe Guru
Hi Everyone,
Just to let you know I arrived safely and happily into Kolkata (Calcutta), India, yesterday. The trip was grueling because it was a 6am flight... which I discovered after I bought the ticket. It turned out to be in Bhutan's Drukair Airlines. To avoid paying a huge taxi fare, I took the last airport bus from Khao San Rd in Bangkok at 11pm. I was sad to leave Thailand. I was dreading India. It can be so intense and I remember the worst of it from my previous visit. Yet, my pendulum and spirit called me to go on to India.
I spent a sleepless night in the airport. The flight went smoothly... on the plane I slept. And in 2 hours I was in Kolkata at their International airport which was small and grimy and looked ancient. Customs/immigration went smoothly. There I met Martina, a Czech woman, who asked if I wanted to share a cab. As we awaited our baggage at the carousel, I laughed at the sign that read "in case of missing baggage, fill out a 'Baggage Irregularity Form'!" That sounds like bueracrat-speak for "we lost your bag". Martina's bag turned out to be "irregular" in the sense of being missing. She laughed about it remembering that as she packed she considered consolidating things into her carry on, and that she had been thinking it would be nice to travel lighter. She practices Buddhism and the important things in the missing bag were just prayer items. The official who helped her fill out the form, gave the standard reply "have no worries, relax... no problem"; they always say that when you have everything to worry about and they have nothing to worry about. I envied Martina as we walked from the airport and I carried my 30 lb backpack.
I had watched the Indians in the airport, the mannerisms, and was wondering what I am doing here. Such a crazy place. Maybe I would just turn around and go back to Thailand. As we attempted to walk a couple of km to the bus stop, every taxi and rickshaw stopped to ask us where we were going and did we want a ride. Martina was wearing down in the heat and the attention. We got to the bus stop and got such confusing information, that we finally negotiated with taxi drivers. Martina wanted to go to the Mother Teresa House to see about volunteering. I was curious to check that out, but also wanted to check into a hotel on Sudder St (the backpacker/cheap accommodation ghetto). Finally we negotiated 150 rs for Mother Teresa's, and 180rs to take one of us there and one to Sudder St. As we drove off, the taxi driver laughed and talked to his friends in Hindi, holding up two fingers. I realized he was going to try to cheat us by claiming it was 150 rs each instead of total. Now I remembered the advice of the Indian guy we asked for information: "make sure you get a metered taxi". Hindsight is always the best. The traffic was horrendus and drivers drove as they do only in India: never look back, never back up, always move forward, always honk your horn. Four lanes like this... well not really lanes because any place on the road is fair game for merging and swerving. They always manage to get twice as many cars/vehicles in the space as we might think would fit. Clearances between vehicles is inches. In one of the merges, a taxi hit ours. Our driver cursed and got out, but no damage was done. Martina and I could only laugh with adrenaline as we saw near accidents. We passed a cow ambling down the highway. Then we passed a man squatting and peeing (an Indian technique for being discreet) in the sewer drain in the curb of the meridian. Our driver yelled out at him as we passed.. just for the fun of harrassing him.
I decided to just go with Martina to the Mother Teresa House and hope it was close to Sudder St. We arrived there. Turns out there are several "houses"/locations. We arrived the place where the Sisters/Nons live. We got to see Mother Teresa's tomb. Then some local men who were in some sort of Christian organization took us for the five minute walk to a children's infirmary where we toured with some others through the facility. It was strange... I felt like I was in a zoo. The wards had cribs and one was filled with children with conditions that looked like autism and ms. Though it felt strange to be touring through, some how the atmosphere was very good and seemed ok for the children. We went to another ward where the children seemed healthy. Several adopted me to play with a ball. One rascal started climbing up the wire mesh on the door to work the sleve bolt latch!
Overall the energy and atmosphere seemed very nice and very beautiful and healing. Volunteers watched the children and cleaned beds etc. As we were leaving one of the Sisters said I would be very handsome without my piercings, and said I ought not follow others! I laughed because if I were following others, I wouldn't have piercings at all! Funny how some Christians can be so judgmental.
Martina and I walked through the streets... 30 minutes to Sudder St. It was intense, and hot. Many stares directed at us. And always the rickshaws and taxi drivers jabbering at us to see if we wanted a ride. Some children grabbed onto us begging for food, pointing at their bellies, pleading in English. We were wavering on giving in, though we only had big bills from the ATM. The children said and a man said "no money, food!" The man came along saying we should buy them food. As we stopped a the first shop, all there was were biscuits and cookies: white flour, white sugar... nothing healthy. Martina nearly bought a package, then the man came up and said we should buy something else next door. The shopkeeper yelled at him. I realized the ploy then. You buy something for an inflated price, the product gets returned to the store, and the whole gang makes money. It took a few minutes to loose the whole crowd.
After a long 30 minutes we found a hotel with a dorm room on Sudder St. The last 50 meters, a tout walked along with me trying to get me to see the 300 rs rooms. We got dorm beds for 70rs. I went out walking. I found myself bubbling with joy inside. Something here for me I guess. Interesting sights on every step. Alleys with goats, human powered rickshaws, barefoot children, women in sari's, and men in dress slacks and button shirts. Smells of charcoal for the food stands, urine, incense occassionally waft up through the overwhelming exhaust fumes. A bizzare mix of poverty in a world culture. Pavement and dust, barefoot and dress shoes, human powered rickshaws and Chevorlets. The men who pull the rickshaws seem as content as anyone else. Some work barefoot. Others in flip flops. Street vendors sell western clothes that look much like they wear in Thailand; made in China I guess.
Funny, in January I had a vision that I was to return to India. By the time I left San Francisco 7 weeks ago, I was really wanting to just stay in San Francisco. And now that I am here everything feels right. Just being here, I feel like I am in a meditative state, and everything feels clear.
We went to a free dance program listed in the Lonely Planet. Turns out it is a dance school where they teach traditional Indian dance to children. We got to watch a rehearsal for their recital on Saturday. It was beautiful and cute. I thought of Kim and Paul and Sarah and Mom in their recitals!
Then we went to the Planetarium. Luckily they had a show at 6:30pm in English, not Hindi. An older Hindi woman narrated through the program in very proper English. It took her a whole paragraph to say "turn your cell phones off". Midway through the show, she saw someone turn theirs on, and she went on a two minute spiel asking the to turn it off, explaining that cell phones disrupt the show, and that if they can't go without their phone for 30 minutes, they should leave. Well, she was right, that cell phone sure did disrupt the show! All this was in the Queen's English with an Indian accent. Her monologue about the stars and planets was nonstop and a bit hard to understand and at times I felt a bit dizzy with it all. When the show ended and we walked outside to the mayhem of 6 lanes of cars following the Indian rule of the road "no matter what, always honk you horn", I thought to myself how nice the peace of the planetarium was, but then I thought how it wasn't really that peaceful with the Hindi woman's monologue.
As we tried to navigate our way back home to Sudder street, a nice Hindi man pointed us the right way, suggested we walk on the park side of the street... it was much quieter and better air than the other side of the six lanes of exhaust belching cars. He said he was walking our way. And chatted. And I thought how nice it was to meet a simple kind soul without the pretext of money. Then he suggested some sights to see and conveniently pulled out two handwritten sheets of sights in Kolkata arranged by compass direction and along with bus numbers. Pretty soon he suggested we might buy him a drink as he was between jobs. He was one of the sweetest hustlers I had run across. Quite helpful. We gave him a few rupees.
Today, Martina and I walked through the traffic and heat and crowds to the Railroad Ticket Office and then had to fill out a form for a ticket request. After an hour, we got a ticket for tomorrow night to New Jalpaiguri (the way to Darjeeling). We ran into a group of three, an Argentinian couple from the plane, and a guy from Belgium that was in my guest house in Bangkok. They got tickets to Darjeeling as well, but apparently we got the last tickets for tomorrow; they had to get tickets for the next two days.
We roamed around with them. I introduced them to some Indian foods. As we walked back we dodged the crazy traffic crossing the roads. We stopped at a bank so they could get some smaller notes. As I waited a security guard came up and asked what I was doing. I told him I was waiting for friends to change money. He said they can't exchange money (foreign) here. I tried to explain that they were changing 100rs notes for 20 rs notes, and he said they couldn't do that. Meanwhile they were at the teller doing exactly that. I finally said, "No tension, no tension, no problem!" And laughed at myself finally able to use that Indian line on an Indian!!!!
Just to let you know I arrived safely and happily into Kolkata (Calcutta), India, yesterday. The trip was grueling because it was a 6am flight... which I discovered after I bought the ticket. It turned out to be in Bhutan's Drukair Airlines. To avoid paying a huge taxi fare, I took the last airport bus from Khao San Rd in Bangkok at 11pm. I was sad to leave Thailand. I was dreading India. It can be so intense and I remember the worst of it from my previous visit. Yet, my pendulum and spirit called me to go on to India.
I spent a sleepless night in the airport. The flight went smoothly... on the plane I slept. And in 2 hours I was in Kolkata at their International airport which was small and grimy and looked ancient. Customs/immigration went smoothly. There I met Martina, a Czech woman, who asked if I wanted to share a cab. As we awaited our baggage at the carousel, I laughed at the sign that read "in case of missing baggage, fill out a 'Baggage Irregularity Form'!" That sounds like bueracrat-speak for "we lost your bag". Martina's bag turned out to be "irregular" in the sense of being missing. She laughed about it remembering that as she packed she considered consolidating things into her carry on, and that she had been thinking it would be nice to travel lighter. She practices Buddhism and the important things in the missing bag were just prayer items. The official who helped her fill out the form, gave the standard reply "have no worries, relax... no problem"; they always say that when you have everything to worry about and they have nothing to worry about. I envied Martina as we walked from the airport and I carried my 30 lb backpack.
I had watched the Indians in the airport, the mannerisms, and was wondering what I am doing here. Such a crazy place. Maybe I would just turn around and go back to Thailand. As we attempted to walk a couple of km to the bus stop, every taxi and rickshaw stopped to ask us where we were going and did we want a ride. Martina was wearing down in the heat and the attention. We got to the bus stop and got such confusing information, that we finally negotiated with taxi drivers. Martina wanted to go to the Mother Teresa House to see about volunteering. I was curious to check that out, but also wanted to check into a hotel on Sudder St (the backpacker/cheap accommodation ghetto). Finally we negotiated 150 rs for Mother Teresa's, and 180rs to take one of us there and one to Sudder St. As we drove off, the taxi driver laughed and talked to his friends in Hindi, holding up two fingers. I realized he was going to try to cheat us by claiming it was 150 rs each instead of total. Now I remembered the advice of the Indian guy we asked for information: "make sure you get a metered taxi". Hindsight is always the best. The traffic was horrendus and drivers drove as they do only in India: never look back, never back up, always move forward, always honk your horn. Four lanes like this... well not really lanes because any place on the road is fair game for merging and swerving. They always manage to get twice as many cars/vehicles in the space as we might think would fit. Clearances between vehicles is inches. In one of the merges, a taxi hit ours. Our driver cursed and got out, but no damage was done. Martina and I could only laugh with adrenaline as we saw near accidents. We passed a cow ambling down the highway. Then we passed a man squatting and peeing (an Indian technique for being discreet) in the sewer drain in the curb of the meridian. Our driver yelled out at him as we passed.. just for the fun of harrassing him.
I decided to just go with Martina to the Mother Teresa House and hope it was close to Sudder St. We arrived there. Turns out there are several "houses"/locations. We arrived the place where the Sisters/Nons live. We got to see Mother Teresa's tomb. Then some local men who were in some sort of Christian organization took us for the five minute walk to a children's infirmary where we toured with some others through the facility. It was strange... I felt like I was in a zoo. The wards had cribs and one was filled with children with conditions that looked like autism and ms. Though it felt strange to be touring through, some how the atmosphere was very good and seemed ok for the children. We went to another ward where the children seemed healthy. Several adopted me to play with a ball. One rascal started climbing up the wire mesh on the door to work the sleve bolt latch!
Overall the energy and atmosphere seemed very nice and very beautiful and healing. Volunteers watched the children and cleaned beds etc. As we were leaving one of the Sisters said I would be very handsome without my piercings, and said I ought not follow others! I laughed because if I were following others, I wouldn't have piercings at all! Funny how some Christians can be so judgmental.
Martina and I walked through the streets... 30 minutes to Sudder St. It was intense, and hot. Many stares directed at us. And always the rickshaws and taxi drivers jabbering at us to see if we wanted a ride. Some children grabbed onto us begging for food, pointing at their bellies, pleading in English. We were wavering on giving in, though we only had big bills from the ATM. The children said and a man said "no money, food!" The man came along saying we should buy them food. As we stopped a the first shop, all there was were biscuits and cookies: white flour, white sugar... nothing healthy. Martina nearly bought a package, then the man came up and said we should buy something else next door. The shopkeeper yelled at him. I realized the ploy then. You buy something for an inflated price, the product gets returned to the store, and the whole gang makes money. It took a few minutes to loose the whole crowd.
After a long 30 minutes we found a hotel with a dorm room on Sudder St. The last 50 meters, a tout walked along with me trying to get me to see the 300 rs rooms. We got dorm beds for 70rs. I went out walking. I found myself bubbling with joy inside. Something here for me I guess. Interesting sights on every step. Alleys with goats, human powered rickshaws, barefoot children, women in sari's, and men in dress slacks and button shirts. Smells of charcoal for the food stands, urine, incense occassionally waft up through the overwhelming exhaust fumes. A bizzare mix of poverty in a world culture. Pavement and dust, barefoot and dress shoes, human powered rickshaws and Chevorlets. The men who pull the rickshaws seem as content as anyone else. Some work barefoot. Others in flip flops. Street vendors sell western clothes that look much like they wear in Thailand; made in China I guess.
Funny, in January I had a vision that I was to return to India. By the time I left San Francisco 7 weeks ago, I was really wanting to just stay in San Francisco. And now that I am here everything feels right. Just being here, I feel like I am in a meditative state, and everything feels clear.
We went to a free dance program listed in the Lonely Planet. Turns out it is a dance school where they teach traditional Indian dance to children. We got to watch a rehearsal for their recital on Saturday. It was beautiful and cute. I thought of Kim and Paul and Sarah and Mom in their recitals!
Then we went to the Planetarium. Luckily they had a show at 6:30pm in English, not Hindi. An older Hindi woman narrated through the program in very proper English. It took her a whole paragraph to say "turn your cell phones off". Midway through the show, she saw someone turn theirs on, and she went on a two minute spiel asking the to turn it off, explaining that cell phones disrupt the show, and that if they can't go without their phone for 30 minutes, they should leave. Well, she was right, that cell phone sure did disrupt the show! All this was in the Queen's English with an Indian accent. Her monologue about the stars and planets was nonstop and a bit hard to understand and at times I felt a bit dizzy with it all. When the show ended and we walked outside to the mayhem of 6 lanes of cars following the Indian rule of the road "no matter what, always honk you horn", I thought to myself how nice the peace of the planetarium was, but then I thought how it wasn't really that peaceful with the Hindi woman's monologue.
As we tried to navigate our way back home to Sudder street, a nice Hindi man pointed us the right way, suggested we walk on the park side of the street... it was much quieter and better air than the other side of the six lanes of exhaust belching cars. He said he was walking our way. And chatted. And I thought how nice it was to meet a simple kind soul without the pretext of money. Then he suggested some sights to see and conveniently pulled out two handwritten sheets of sights in Kolkata arranged by compass direction and along with bus numbers. Pretty soon he suggested we might buy him a drink as he was between jobs. He was one of the sweetest hustlers I had run across. Quite helpful. We gave him a few rupees.
Today, Martina and I walked through the traffic and heat and crowds to the Railroad Ticket Office and then had to fill out a form for a ticket request. After an hour, we got a ticket for tomorrow night to New Jalpaiguri (the way to Darjeeling). We ran into a group of three, an Argentinian couple from the plane, and a guy from Belgium that was in my guest house in Bangkok. They got tickets to Darjeeling as well, but apparently we got the last tickets for tomorrow; they had to get tickets for the next two days.
We roamed around with them. I introduced them to some Indian foods. As we walked back we dodged the crazy traffic crossing the roads. We stopped at a bank so they could get some smaller notes. As I waited a security guard came up and asked what I was doing. I told him I was waiting for friends to change money. He said they can't exchange money (foreign) here. I tried to explain that they were changing 100rs notes for 20 rs notes, and he said they couldn't do that. Meanwhile they were at the teller doing exactly that. I finally said, "No tension, no tension, no problem!" And laughed at myself finally able to use that Indian line on an Indian!!!!
Sugar and Spice: Wed, 23 May 2007
Yesterday I arrived back in Bangkok on an overnight bus from Krabi/Ao Nang where I spent the last three weeks. The bus arrived in Bangkok at Khao San Rd at 4:30am. Khao San Rd is the backpacker's ghetto. It's a bit hectic, but convenient for booking travel and being around other travellers.
I ate noodle soup at a street vendor stand within the walls of the Temple and Monastery here. A guard, I think from 7-11 got some soup to go. It was packaged in a plastic bag sealed with a rubber band--common packing for street food around here. He added some condiments to his bag of soup---quite a few spoonfuls of sugar (enough to kill a diabetic), and several tablespoons of crushed dried chilis (enough to burn a house down both coming and going!). He didn't really speak English but if I understood his sign language correctly he was saying the sugar and spice would cure a hangover!
I was sad to leave Krabi... more specifically the beaches of Tonsai and Railay... the climber's paradise. I spent about three weeks there after arriving with some young Frenchmen, climbers I met in Phuket. We travelled from Phuket via Phang Nga together. We enjoyed a local bus ride. The local buses are full of chrome and brightly painted colors. Even large speakers and the driver put on some upbeat music as we started the ride. It was like a dance bus.
The public transportation is so wonderful in Thailand, like much of Asia. You can find a variety of trucks, minivans, buses, motorcycles, trains, and taxi's to get around. Often in towns and cities, covered pickup trucks with benches roam up and down the main throughfares every few minutes. Buses run between towns and cities such that you can practically just show up at a bus station and get anywhere.
Cyril, Ben, and I spent a couple of days in Phang Nga, where we enjoyed the atmosphere of a local, rather than tourist town. We enjoyed local dishes such as rice porrige with meat for breakfast, spicy papaya salad and sticky rice, and corn on the cob (not very sweet here). Everything was priced nearly half of the tourist towns like Phuket, or the island of Ko Phan Ngan, where one is held ransome by the boats and lack of local markets because it is merely a tourist place.
We dodged rain storms to check out local caves and waterfalls. One cave by a Buddhist Temple was called the Heaven and Hell Cave. We entered the cave through a tunnel constructed to look like a dragon. Inside the huge cave were some altars. Outside were amusement park like figures depicting Heaven, Hell, and Judgment. Bizzarre! A monk was collecting donations as we left and activated some of the moving figures: a corpse figure sprang out of a coffin making goulish noises! We were startled and laughed! We determined that most every figure made some noise or action when coins were deposited. Rubber plantations surrouned the town as well as magnificent limestone cliffs.
We took a boat ride to nearby islands: James Bond Island were some scenes were filmed for a Bond movie, and Koh Panyee, a Muslim stilt village adjacent to a rock jutting out of the sea. On the Island we followed the Tsunami evacuation signs (we were looking for some rock climbing crags). The led us through the village on stilts to a path. The signs showed an image of a building/shelter. Yet when we got to the end of the boardwalk through town, we found a muddy narrow path that seemed to mainly lead to the diesel generators that provided the town with electricity. It didn't seem like anything that would be very safe or fun with a horde of people fleeing from a tsunami. I decided I wouldn't want to be there during a tsunami. Perhaps it is just the beginning of government's disaster infrastructure. It makes me wonder how much of our own disaster preparations in the US are as adequate as we might believe. We got to hang out for a few moments with a pet monkey a village women held out to us. It was wearing a diaper. She encouraged us to take photos as she thrust it into each of our arms. Then of course she asked for money to feed the monkey. I'm sure she made a good living from it. And it was quite a bit sweeter than the lady outside a temple in Bangkok who had a caged bird and asked me to pay money to set it free!
From Phang Nga, we took another local bus to Krabi. We got off the bus and were accosted by a couple men asking where we were going. I reared up my defenses... well used to touts and scams at bus stations... and put them off. When Ben and Cyril came along as we discussed how to get to the beaches of Railay, it turned out that the men were actually helpful and honest and directed us to a "sangthew" (pick up truck taxi) that was priced correctly. I felt bad. I hate to mistrust people, but many areas there are such scams. When I arrived on Kho Phan Ngan a few weeks ago, I put off a boatman who quoted me a price of 150 baht because I had read in the guidebook that the price was 50 baht... yet the guidebook was outdated.
We got to Railay and found the cheapest bungalows. Railay is quite a resort place with expensive hotels and concrete in which you might as well be in Hawaii or Florida as you will likely pay similar prices and merely get Western culture. Ironic because one of the expensive hotels viewed over trash heaps in the next lot. And another caught wind of sewage. Most of them would catch wind of burning plastic as garbage was burned daily. Obviously development is poorly managed and very much an ecological disaster.
Our bungalow was pretty, though away from the beach were the mosquitos swarmed. We took turns between the two beds and my hammock with mosquito net hung on the porch. The first night was the owner's little girls birthday and so there was a party with family and bungalow guests at the bar. The little girl was cute. I think she was five or six. And she was ready to celebrate! She danced and loved to pop the numerous balloons that were tied around. An early teenage nephew was obviously gay and it was fun to see him accepted into the family. Everyone laughed at his dancing which was better than the others. He was quite feminine. I asked if he was the birthday girls brother, and I was told he was the mother's sister's daughter. At first I thought her English was simply poor, but the next day I realized that perhaps they honor the boy's tendicies and refer to him as a girl. Thais are very open and accepting on some levels. One of my friends from San Francisco has a Thai boyfriend who was aghast when he learned that in the US some families disown gay children, or that some are beat up.
We bought some beer at the bar and soon were hungry. The family shared some birthday food with us. I soon found myself eating chicken salad, so they said. It was crunchy and also soft. I feared it was raw chicken. But I figured if they all were eating it that it wouldn't kill me. I was hungry and a bit tipsy after a beer on an empty stomach and so I ate on. It was terribly spicy too. Soon plates were brought for my accomplices and we began to talk and try to figure out what it was. Finally we talked with the mother and she pointed to her elbows and we figured out we were eating chicken cartilage and maybe feet. In Laos last year some locals shared chicken feet roasted on a stick with me... not much meat and chewy!
A few days in Railay, then we moved to Tonsai, the nearby beach where it's the center of the climber's heaven. One of the bars is next to climbing routes. Ben and Cyril were much more experienced than me and were nice enough to set up a couple easier routes for me. They left after a few days, and a German women, Julia adopted me into her climbing "family". She and her Aussie climbing partner Dave, were quite experienced and enjoyed lead climbing and setting up ropes for me and other less advanced climbers to climb. Our family changed as members came and went along the travel circuit. A German guy, Flo and me became the last of it when Julia left. I spent most of my time working through my fear of heights, clinging to the earth as if I might fall off! Towards the last days I got some strength and confidence. The trick to climbing is trusting the ropes... it's all about knowing how to use the gear. Done properly, you have little to worry about.
Weather was a bit rainy. I moved in which Julia to a little bamboo bungalow. I put my hammock on the porch. It was quite cozy. The first day it started to rain just as we had cleaned up for dinner. We sat on the porch. The wind blew harder. We felt a few drops of rain coming in on the porch and we stashed clothing and gear farther inwards. The gale picked up as we sat like Ma and Pa Kettle on the porch. Soon we found ourselves under shawls from the coolness, and my poncho draped like a tarp over us with just our heads poking out. The rain drove in harder and at last we relented to taking shelter inside the dark small bungalow. Torrents of water washed around the bungalows which all sat on stilts. It was the monsoon. Most days we were dampened by showers, a couple days were total washouts. The last days were quite sunny.
Much of the climbing routes were on overhangs and were fairly dry if you could get to them.
Days usually started meeting for breakfast and picking some routes to climb. A few climbs. Lunch. Then maybe some more climbs or the beach. The community of travelling climbers was sweet with many options to climb with different people, chat, and play cards.
I have many stories, but it is time to prepare for my flight to Calcutta, India at 6 am. Not the best time as I will likely have to take a bus at 11pm unless I want to pay twice as much for a taxi.
Kho Pha Ngan and Nahkon Si Thammarat-Tue, 24 Apr 2007
Hi Everyone,
Just thought I would fill you in on my latest travels. The last several weeks I have been in Kho Phan Ngan, an island on the gulf (east) side of Thailand. I traveled down with a friend of some friends from the US that I ran into in Bangkok.
Amnon and I took the night bus from Bangkok and ferry from Surat Thani. The bus made a stop in the night at an inflated priced food stand... a typical ruse to make up for cheaper bus tickets. The ferry ride was beautiful over turquoise waters and sights of islands. Kho Pha Ngan is mainly a tourist island. Not much local culture there... probably a few fishing villages were all that was there before tourism hit. Now the beautiful beaches are covered in tourist bungalows. Many of the beaches can only be reached by longtail boat. We stayed at Had Thian, one of the more remote beaches which was very quiet. A resort called Sanctuary was there which was kind of a new age California like vegetarian resort with spa services like Thai massage, facials, a fasting program, colon hydrotherapy, etc. A few other bungalow operations were there also. A good place to relax and do little. Though snorkeling and diving trips were possible along with sea kayaking and just swimming in the shallow waters.
I found it a bit boring, though I enjoyed a few swim, and met some nice people. Saw a couple of good movies (One Giant Leap, and Dances of Ecstasy, on the weekly movie nights) Amnon left to go home to Israel and I hooked up with a English/Aussie couple, Tom and Emma, who were interested in coming to Nahkon Si Tammarat. We went to another beach on the north side of the island where there was a small town. It was funny as we first went to Bottle beach which was supposed to be the second busiest on the island. We hired a boat for the 45 minute ride. As we pulled up to bottle beach, we found a deserted beach with a few bungalow operations. We were all a bit disappointed. We checked it out and decided to head elsewhere. Our boat had left, so we took a boat taxi to the nearest travel juncture, which was Ao Thong Nai Pan Yai... that turned out to be a small village and so we stayed there. I found a nice family run bungalow operation where the family seemed caring rather than money grubbing, like some of the more resort like operations feel.
It was exciting in that there was a little bit of a village. The place is growing fast... with lots of new construction of bars and resorts. I stayed in a musty bamboo hut with a fan and light... actually I slept in my hammock on the porch for 150 baht/night ($4.70). On the nearby penninsula lay a resort with swimming pool and artificial water fall and air conditioning. I would guess it cost $100/night. Emma and I took a walk away from the beach and found a bar which was to open that night. It was a huge 2 story glass and concrete industrial design, with patio and ponds... something that could be in Bangkok or New York. It wasn't even completely finished. across the dusty dirt road was a row of tarp houses, probably for the construction crew. About as drastic a culture shock and juxtapostion as I could imagine. I felt good about my bungalow and the family running it... like I was living more like them, rather than just coming and partying and not experiencing local culture.
Two nights there, then we took the night ferry to Surat Thani. The good news was the ferry had sleeping berths for the 10pm-5am ride... the bad news was they were narrow mats right next to each other on the floor. It was actually reasonably good sleeping. They had the tourists on one side and the locals on the other so people would worry so much about being ripped off.
We got off the boat at Surat Thani at 5am and were greeted by taxi touts... 10 baht to the bus station for a bus to Nakhon Si Thammarat they said. It sounded a bit cheap. We took a mini van taxi ride to the "bus station" along with maybe 6-8 others... we pulled up to a street side storefront with a travel counter on one side and a bunch of chairs in the street and food stand on the other side. The bus ticket was quoted at 256 baht... our guide book said 70 baht, and though guidebooks are never completely up to date, we realized it was likely a scam. In fact, Tom read the section on Bus Scams where a high priced ticket is sold and you end up on a local bus or minivan. We looked up the bus station on the map and it didn't match where we were, and so we escaped to there and found a bus for 70 baht.
We arrived groggily at Nakhon Si Thamarrat yesterday morning at about 9 am. Tom and Emma booked their bus ticket for Bangkok for the evening bus. They fly to England in a couple of days. We walked around the sweltering heat and I got a room and dropped off my bags. We then were looking for a place to breakfast and ran into a local boy who'd befriended Tom on the bus. He cutely practiced his English and helped us order some local dishes at a restaurant. He was an obviously gay student about to enter college. Smart and obviously clued into the world culture. His English was rough, though far better than our Thai. We tried to ask him what he liked to eat or what was a good local breakfast, and I'm not sure he ever really understood... at first he thought we wanted to buy him breakfast and he politely refused, embarrassed a bit (plus he'd just eaten).
Khao Yam is a rice salad... rice and dried spices and chilies mixed together. Then some meat curries. It was nice to get off the island of Kho Pha Ngan where everything is 2- 3 times as expensive due to shipping costs and just due to tourists. There a meal cost 60-100 baht (2-3 $). Here you can eat for half that. I released alot of tension as my budget of 10$/day was impossible to meet on the island.
Our Thai friend left us to eat. We roamed the city taking advantage of sangthaews (pickup truck taxis which roam up and down the streets like mini buses picking up and discharging passengers along the way). They cost 10 baht. It felt like culture shock going from the quiet tourist island where we were removed from car traffic, to being in a typical Asian city full of polluting cars, and also where tourist were the exception. I felt many stares at us.
We visited the local shadow puppet master's home and workshop. A beautiful old wooden home, with a workspace under the stilts. It was a wood structure, more substantial than the bamboo huts of the islands. The shadow puppets are made of goat or cow hide and intricately cut and painted... some are translucent and their color shows through during the show. There was a display of puppets hundreds of years old. We enjoyed a private show. Complete with sound effects and gongs. It was in Thai. Some sort of love story, then a joker/devil and god involved. We laughed when a cell phone appeared as well as an airplane and motorcycle. The storyline was obviously tradition Thai, yet made current.
We stopped by the Gov't Tourish Office where I tried to get information on the nearby park where there is a 1785 meter moutain. They told me about a 3 day tour lead by villagers who live there. But it was out of my budget unless I could come up with a group to distribute costs. I tried to find out if I could just go and hike around for a day, but the communication was just not good enough. Today I went a inquired about village homestays I read about in the brochure. They had no openings, but a lady working at the Tourist office invited me to her home where her mother teaches English. There is a waterfall nearby. So I am off on that adventure this evening. Hopefully it is not a date! Nor a scam. She says it is free (the regular homestay has a per meal and per night cost). I will stay a night or two depending on how it goes. Then I will go to Malaysia on a visa run (U.S. citizens get a free 30 day visa upon arrival, and can "renew" it by crossing a border and re-entering).
Back to yesterday. Tom and Emma and I then ate at a busy street vendor. Typical of Thailand, many street and alleys have vendors who have a cart with cooking apparatus, and often tables set up around them. I was dismayed to find out that most of the food carts are owned by entrepreneurs (I could apparently buy one and rent it out) and rented to the operator/cook... I thought each one was a family-owned business. We ate a new to me dish... noodles and sauce... then each table is adorned with pots of toppings which were various pickled vegetables as near as I could tell. Boiled eggs were available too. And cut up raw green beans, cucumbers, etc. It was good. And I think cost 20 baht (70cents) for a semi-all you can eat meal (all the toppings were self serve).
After that we roamed around the streets sweltering in the heat. Tom and Emma were going to do some shopping, but by the time they got to an ATM, were tired of shopping. We had ice cream and fried bannanas. It was a posh place and air conditioned and still prices were only 30-40 baht per meal... half even the cheapest place on the touristy island. There was ice cream purported to be from San Francisco, though I didn't recognize the brand.
Tom and Emma had some beef noodle soup at a street stand to fill up before there 6pm bus. They parted. I was sad to be alone, especially in this very untouristed town. I went back to my huge, dingy room. Only 140 baht with attached bath. I showered and felt better after the sweltering heat. I ventured out for dinner. Everything except street stands seemed to be closed by 7:30pm. It didn't feel like a good place to explore. I felt very conspicuous. So I ate, and retired and caught up on my sleep. I had hoped to meet some backpackers to explore the nearby park and mountain with... or at least who might have some information. But there were none.
I expect to spend a night or two at the village, then to Hat Yai and Malaysia for a visa run. Then to Krabi to check out the rock climbing there. I have until 17 May when I depart from Bangkok to Calcutta, India.
So that's my latest report!
Write when you can as I enjoy hearing from you!
Just thought I would fill you in on my latest travels. The last several weeks I have been in Kho Phan Ngan, an island on the gulf (east) side of Thailand. I traveled down with a friend of some friends from the US that I ran into in Bangkok.
Amnon and I took the night bus from Bangkok and ferry from Surat Thani. The bus made a stop in the night at an inflated priced food stand... a typical ruse to make up for cheaper bus tickets. The ferry ride was beautiful over turquoise waters and sights of islands. Kho Pha Ngan is mainly a tourist island. Not much local culture there... probably a few fishing villages were all that was there before tourism hit. Now the beautiful beaches are covered in tourist bungalows. Many of the beaches can only be reached by longtail boat. We stayed at Had Thian, one of the more remote beaches which was very quiet. A resort called Sanctuary was there which was kind of a new age California like vegetarian resort with spa services like Thai massage, facials, a fasting program, colon hydrotherapy, etc. A few other bungalow operations were there also. A good place to relax and do little. Though snorkeling and diving trips were possible along with sea kayaking and just swimming in the shallow waters.
I found it a bit boring, though I enjoyed a few swim, and met some nice people. Saw a couple of good movies (One Giant Leap, and Dances of Ecstasy, on the weekly movie nights) Amnon left to go home to Israel and I hooked up with a English/Aussie couple, Tom and Emma, who were interested in coming to Nahkon Si Tammarat. We went to another beach on the north side of the island where there was a small town. It was funny as we first went to Bottle beach which was supposed to be the second busiest on the island. We hired a boat for the 45 minute ride. As we pulled up to bottle beach, we found a deserted beach with a few bungalow operations. We were all a bit disappointed. We checked it out and decided to head elsewhere. Our boat had left, so we took a boat taxi to the nearest travel juncture, which was Ao Thong Nai Pan Yai... that turned out to be a small village and so we stayed there. I found a nice family run bungalow operation where the family seemed caring rather than money grubbing, like some of the more resort like operations feel.
It was exciting in that there was a little bit of a village. The place is growing fast... with lots of new construction of bars and resorts. I stayed in a musty bamboo hut with a fan and light... actually I slept in my hammock on the porch for 150 baht/night ($4.70). On the nearby penninsula lay a resort with swimming pool and artificial water fall and air conditioning. I would guess it cost $100/night. Emma and I took a walk away from the beach and found a bar which was to open that night. It was a huge 2 story glass and concrete industrial design, with patio and ponds... something that could be in Bangkok or New York. It wasn't even completely finished. across the dusty dirt road was a row of tarp houses, probably for the construction crew. About as drastic a culture shock and juxtapostion as I could imagine. I felt good about my bungalow and the family running it... like I was living more like them, rather than just coming and partying and not experiencing local culture.
Two nights there, then we took the night ferry to Surat Thani. The good news was the ferry had sleeping berths for the 10pm-5am ride... the bad news was they were narrow mats right next to each other on the floor. It was actually reasonably good sleeping. They had the tourists on one side and the locals on the other so people would worry so much about being ripped off.
We got off the boat at Surat Thani at 5am and were greeted by taxi touts... 10 baht to the bus station for a bus to Nakhon Si Thammarat they said. It sounded a bit cheap. We took a mini van taxi ride to the "bus station" along with maybe 6-8 others... we pulled up to a street side storefront with a travel counter on one side and a bunch of chairs in the street and food stand on the other side. The bus ticket was quoted at 256 baht... our guide book said 70 baht, and though guidebooks are never completely up to date, we realized it was likely a scam. In fact, Tom read the section on Bus Scams where a high priced ticket is sold and you end up on a local bus or minivan. We looked up the bus station on the map and it didn't match where we were, and so we escaped to there and found a bus for 70 baht.
We arrived groggily at Nakhon Si Thamarrat yesterday morning at about 9 am. Tom and Emma booked their bus ticket for Bangkok for the evening bus. They fly to England in a couple of days. We walked around the sweltering heat and I got a room and dropped off my bags. We then were looking for a place to breakfast and ran into a local boy who'd befriended Tom on the bus. He cutely practiced his English and helped us order some local dishes at a restaurant. He was an obviously gay student about to enter college. Smart and obviously clued into the world culture. His English was rough, though far better than our Thai. We tried to ask him what he liked to eat or what was a good local breakfast, and I'm not sure he ever really understood... at first he thought we wanted to buy him breakfast and he politely refused, embarrassed a bit (plus he'd just eaten).
Khao Yam is a rice salad... rice and dried spices and chilies mixed together. Then some meat curries. It was nice to get off the island of Kho Pha Ngan where everything is 2- 3 times as expensive due to shipping costs and just due to tourists. There a meal cost 60-100 baht (2-3 $). Here you can eat for half that. I released alot of tension as my budget of 10$/day was impossible to meet on the island.
Our Thai friend left us to eat. We roamed the city taking advantage of sangthaews (pickup truck taxis which roam up and down the streets like mini buses picking up and discharging passengers along the way). They cost 10 baht. It felt like culture shock going from the quiet tourist island where we were removed from car traffic, to being in a typical Asian city full of polluting cars, and also where tourist were the exception. I felt many stares at us.
We visited the local shadow puppet master's home and workshop. A beautiful old wooden home, with a workspace under the stilts. It was a wood structure, more substantial than the bamboo huts of the islands. The shadow puppets are made of goat or cow hide and intricately cut and painted... some are translucent and their color shows through during the show. There was a display of puppets hundreds of years old. We enjoyed a private show. Complete with sound effects and gongs. It was in Thai. Some sort of love story, then a joker/devil and god involved. We laughed when a cell phone appeared as well as an airplane and motorcycle. The storyline was obviously tradition Thai, yet made current.
We stopped by the Gov't Tourish Office where I tried to get information on the nearby park where there is a 1785 meter moutain. They told me about a 3 day tour lead by villagers who live there. But it was out of my budget unless I could come up with a group to distribute costs. I tried to find out if I could just go and hike around for a day, but the communication was just not good enough. Today I went a inquired about village homestays I read about in the brochure. They had no openings, but a lady working at the Tourist office invited me to her home where her mother teaches English. There is a waterfall nearby. So I am off on that adventure this evening. Hopefully it is not a date! Nor a scam. She says it is free (the regular homestay has a per meal and per night cost). I will stay a night or two depending on how it goes. Then I will go to Malaysia on a visa run (U.S. citizens get a free 30 day visa upon arrival, and can "renew" it by crossing a border and re-entering).
Back to yesterday. Tom and Emma and I then ate at a busy street vendor. Typical of Thailand, many street and alleys have vendors who have a cart with cooking apparatus, and often tables set up around them. I was dismayed to find out that most of the food carts are owned by entrepreneurs (I could apparently buy one and rent it out) and rented to the operator/cook... I thought each one was a family-owned business. We ate a new to me dish... noodles and sauce... then each table is adorned with pots of toppings which were various pickled vegetables as near as I could tell. Boiled eggs were available too. And cut up raw green beans, cucumbers, etc. It was good. And I think cost 20 baht (70cents) for a semi-all you can eat meal (all the toppings were self serve).
After that we roamed around the streets sweltering in the heat. Tom and Emma were going to do some shopping, but by the time they got to an ATM, were tired of shopping. We had ice cream and fried bannanas. It was a posh place and air conditioned and still prices were only 30-40 baht per meal... half even the cheapest place on the touristy island. There was ice cream purported to be from San Francisco, though I didn't recognize the brand.
Tom and Emma had some beef noodle soup at a street stand to fill up before there 6pm bus. They parted. I was sad to be alone, especially in this very untouristed town. I went back to my huge, dingy room. Only 140 baht with attached bath. I showered and felt better after the sweltering heat. I ventured out for dinner. Everything except street stands seemed to be closed by 7:30pm. It didn't feel like a good place to explore. I felt very conspicuous. So I ate, and retired and caught up on my sleep. I had hoped to meet some backpackers to explore the nearby park and mountain with... or at least who might have some information. But there were none.
I expect to spend a night or two at the village, then to Hat Yai and Malaysia for a visa run. Then to Krabi to check out the rock climbing there. I have until 17 May when I depart from Bangkok to Calcutta, India.
So that's my latest report!
Write when you can as I enjoy hearing from you!
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