Globetrotting

As the days until our departure draw nearer feelings like those before we left begin to stir inside.

Out side the window I can see a dozen bikers a minute commuting to… somewhere. The Japanese garbage trucks are making the rounds, with music playing that sounds like the ice cream man. Men in suits, kids in uniform, all unaware completely of a world that is happening right now in a place called Nebraska. Thinking about arriving in Nebraska, drinking my ice cold Itoen Ocha, this world I’ve been in love with for 6 months begins to slip from my grasp. There seems to be a sort of a haze over everything, a bit like a good photo filter. I’m still here, but not.

It seems like time has flown by, yet I can’t fully remember what it was like to be in Nebraska. Sure I can recall our great apartment on Q street, and working in Sunken Gardens on hot summer days, going out to my grandparents lake with family, and meeting friends downtown, but somehow it all feels a like a lifetime ago.

Attempting to recall life in the US my realities, past and present, begin to mesh into a dreamlike sate, I guess this is what they call “culture shock”.

I can’t sleep at night. And then I roll over and see she can’t either. With the sun threatening to rise we whisper to each other for hours and hours. Smiles grow while recalling moments of our trip that we may have almost forgot. Something that didn’t make this bog, or didn’t get photographed, now only alive in our memories. And then we wonder how many more of these memories we might have.

Being here has been like a breath of fresh air for my entire existence, for OUR entire existence. Life somehow feels different and more valuable. Melissa and I never thought we’d feel this great.

With any luck we may be starting school again in January. When we left six months ago that was the last thing I expected to come “home” for, but it feels like the right thing to do.

Somehow nothing seems that hard now. Perhaps I’m wrong, but I guess it’s the perspective that makes all the difference.

When we got here everything was a “first”, and there were a ton of them. Now I find myself coming across some “lasts”. But it’s not good-bye for good. We will be back. It’s not really that hard.

Weekends are just one big party here. This one was up there. Friday somehow Melissa ended up in a gaijin pillow fight tournament in Umiya. She lost, but I think the match was rigged. The nights always lead into the following afternoon, which takes you right to tomorrow, somehow much quicker than expected.

Saturday we took part in the “I Heart SOKA Party”. We met a bunch of friends at a Thai restaurant then karaoke’d Disney songs all night (well at least the majority of our session). We made friends with a biker gang. By biker gang I mean bicycle. A bunch of ska type skater dudes that roll around on tricked out low-rider bikes and drink outside convinis.

Which brought us right to soccer practice, bbq party, and a long night of fun. The weirdest thing happened. We went to a bar with a bunch of people. A girl we were with asked about my necklace, so I told her the story. I really like this necklace and I’ve been wearing it all the time we’ve been traveling. It’s hand carved wooden pieces of rosewood and ebony, attached to an 80-year-old abacas bead.

*back in april

I bought it from the artist at Yoyogi Park’s EARTH DAY Tokyo festival back in April. I played Japanese rock paper siccors with him to haggle the price. The guy had a beehive of dreads atop an ever-smiling face.

So we left the bar and there he was! It was so random to see him again in a completely different part of Japan. He remembered us and was happy to see his piece around my neck. Cosmic.

*last night!!!!

Our time here is running out. Good and bad, sad and glad. Every moment will be enjoyed.

We’re back at Chris’s. Determined to take it to the limit. I have “karaoke throat” today, a major malady only remedied by barley soda.

We have come to Kanagawa-Ken to wwoof once more. Our new host family, the Iijimas, is by far our favorite. Satoshi his wife Mayumi, their sons Yohei who’s 22, Toru, who’s 19, and daughter Miwa who is 7 are so great to live and work with. They also live with Satoshi’s mother, and Mayumi’s father. Satoshi is an amazing man. He’s a great Dad, caring husband, and amazing farmer. He enjoys snowboarding and windsurfing, as the previous qualities allow. He has such a cool laid back approach to everything, yet he’s very determined and works very hard to support his family.

Miwa is super cool and in love with Melissa! They get along so well. She comes to help us out from time to time and comes over to play when she can. She loves Melissa’s card tricks, and likes to help us learn Japanese. Maybe because she doesn’t speak any English but she giggles every time we call her sensei. On our days off we all go to the beach together. The close one’s only five minutes walk so we can go just about whenever. Some nights we all shoot off fire works together and drink beers (Miwa enjoys juice).

They live in Miura, a peninsula city, rich in history and culture. The Iijima’s main business is called Furawa Gaden (Flower Garden). There is a storefront that sits atop one of the many rolling hills of the eastern coastal area. At Furawa Gaden there are several beds of many different flowers. Most of which Melissa and I have grown at Sunken Gardens. There are also several big veggie fields, and about15 big greenhouses. Families come to pick their food, make bouquets and even have picnics under the shaded shelter. It’s really great to see fathers, sons, mothers and daughters having fun, celebrating fresh organic food.

All together Satoshi owns 15 fields in the area. They’re all pretty sizeable but three are huge. The Japanese countryside is so much different than what Americans think of as a farm. First of all there is little space. No acreages here. The fields are always separated and seem to be scattered about what is typically mountainous terrain. The farming families all live together in a small community close to the fields. On our short morning drive from the house to Furawa Gaden we drive past at least a dozen other farmer’s fields.

Satoshi comes from a long lineage of farmers in this area. The fields that he grows on have been in his family for over 300 years. Yes 300! We’re talking pre-1700’s, his great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather (give or take a great or two???) sowed, weeded, and lived off of the very land we’re working on today. His oldest son Yohei studies farming, and agriculture and works by his side. Someday will run the farm too.

They seem to be one of the few families of the area who are upholding traditional methods of organic farming. We’ve been learning a ton, and have gotten to see many new methods of growing food naturally.

In the three weeks we’ve been here so far we have learned more Japanese than the past three months. This was our first host that required wwoofers to speak Japanese “to a certain degree”. A certain degree is pretty vague but our risk definitely paid off. Satoshi can speak some English using keywords but speaks more Japanese to us. When he does speak English he always compliments it with simple Japanese so it’s very conducive to learning. The rest of the family knows very little or no English.

Their home is amazing. They live in what Melissa and I like to call a “Japanese countryside compound”. Meaning there’s a huge Japanese style house and equally huge guesthouse. As well as a few other buildings and sheds all inside an 8’ concrete wall. Satoshi and his father built them all by hand.

Our Work:

We’ve done a lot of weeding of the veggies and the flowers. Many beds needed to be harvested and prepared for the next crop. There’s lots of watering to do. We worked with lilies for a long-time, cutting digging and planting them. I’ve been helping to build two huge greenhouses lately (70m x 4m!). Melissa has been doing a lot of work in the main strawberry house.

Cutting apart plants, propagating babies and getting ready for the winters TABEIHODAI! This means from January until May customers come and pay 1400 yen (about $12) to eat as many fresh organic strawberries as possible, right of the vine, for half an hour. I wish we’d be here for that!

Major perks:

1. We work form 7 until about 12:30 when we stop for lunch. This includes a half hour break when they spoil us with tea, fruits, and snacks.

2. We live in a pimp house! It’s a two-story Japanese style home. It has 8 big tatami rooms, a traditional bathing room, 2 toilets, a big kitchen, balcony etc. Furnished of course. All to ourselves, we don’t even go upstairs.

3. We can pick all the fresh organic veggies we can eat. They grow multiple varieties of eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes. Also there is nira, goya, ginger, garlic, cucumbers, watermelons, carrots, herbs, corn, lettuce, blueberries, and some other Japanese veggies. Now I’ve been eating strictly organic veggies for several years, but even from a co-op or farmers market you can’t get the freshness that comes from pulling it out of the ground or off the vine only hours before you cook. I must say all the veggies are GREAT, however the garlic is mouthwatering, delicious, and beyond anything I ever thought garlic could be. If all goes to plan I’ll be smuggling some back to the states for cultivation.

4. We’re treated like royalty. The family is so nice. One night Satoshi took us to the grocery store where he liberally bought us food and BEER (not included in the wwoof contract). Afterwards he insisted we go for ice cream and then to a bar for veggie appetizers and a couple beers. All of which were his treat. This is one example of many of our outings. He’s so nice.

It will be hard to leave them all. We’ve been getting along so well and having so much fun while working our hearts out under the scorching sun and humidity. This place is truly what WWOOFing is all about!

It felt good to be back. Every time we’ve got off a plane and stepped into Narita airport I get a slight chill of excitement running down my spine. This was now the third time we had immigrated into Japan, and would be our third tourist visa since our arrival. It was interesting, coming from Bangkok was the only time we had any problems at customs. Immigration didn’t seem to notice or care we had been coming in and out of the country for four months, but the customs guys took notice of us. Perhaps it was Melissa’s fat hemp necklace or my new dreads and baggy Thai fisher pants, or maybe the fact we were in Thailand for 2 weeks (probably all of the above). Whatever it was the young Japanese Customs agents took it upon themselves to thoroughly make sure we were legit. He started by questioning our trip, and then our return to Japan. He asked if he could search our bags, and went through them semi-thoroughly. Another Customs agent came and made me sit down and take off my Birks. They had a hole in the bottom, and they thought that was very funny. The guys were actually very nice, it wasn’t threatening at all. I think they just wanted a chance to do their job. We couldn’t help but giggle a bit though as he showed us pictures of every drug under the sun and asked us in broken English if we had each. “Do you havu ekustasee? Do you havu Hauwin?”

We happened to be in town just in time to make it to the 2007 Tokyo Pride Parade. A big group of Chris’s friends were going, and we joined. There were about a dozen JETs (teachers) that we met up with at, the insanity packed, Yoyogi Park. We just sort of stood around and talked while enjoying the show. Cross dressers, dykes, cowboys, and dominatrixs (dominatricies?) had really come out of the woodwork.

It was insane. So many gay people and gay rights supporters form all over the world. One of the people in our group seemed to know what was going on so before we knew it we had a ribbon on and were in a special line. Turns out we were in the parade. Upon commencement we all began to march. It was so much fun. Here we were in our regular street clothes walking along the packed streets of Tokyo among amped up homosexuals in costumes professing their sexuality at the top of their lungs. Most people cheered us on, some just stared, and some covered the eyes of their children (not all paraders were fully dressed). It was great and we never stopped laughing. Eventually we dipped out of the parade so we could watch the rest. It was a riot! I’m glad we got to be part of the celebration.

It felt so great to be back in Tokyo. There something about this city you just can’t put your finger on. The buildings that seems more like artwork, the signs that make you feel like your in a video game, the music that’s always coming from somewhere, and the streets that really just seem like big sidewalks, all add to a surreal feeling engulfing everyone walking the streets. I can’t help but smile. It’s a very positive place, or at least that’s the feeling I always get. Sure lots of people are in a hurry, but there not so pissed off about it. Tokyo reminds of one of those places you can only get to by a bit of magic. In a way it’s a bit like Wonka’s chocolate factory, or the munchkin city of Oz, or the North Pole. Every time I get off a train a step outside the station I walk into a world completely on its own. I love it.

Our last two days in Thailand were centered around visiting a prisoner in Klong Prem Central Prison. Our plan was to see an English-speaking prisoner, who may not get many visitors making the long journey to Asia.

After doing a bit of reading I came across a prisoner support organization’s website that was rather old, but it did have lists of prisoners in various prisons around the world. It was a start. I sent an email to the group and waited for a reply. This was something Melissa and I wanted to do above all things in Thailand, and after reading more about some of the conditions and horror stories we were compelled more than ever.
It seemed it would be possible if we had the right information. I received a reply from the support group saying that visits had been cut out, especially from Bang Kwang (perhaps the worst prison in the world), excluding family. The only option remaining was to talk to an embassy directly. I had read that British prisoners in Thailand usually have to sit out their entire sentence (which can be very lengthy) while their American and other European counterparts are usually sent home much quicker, to face their respective judiciary courts. By no means do I believe that serious crimes should go unpunished (some of the guys in these prisoner are undoubtedly pretty bad dudes) however it seems rather silly to send an Italian home after 5 years, while a Brit rots in his cell for a lifetime for the same offense. This inspired us to visit a fellow English speaking, Englishmen.
I contacted the British Embassy in Thailand and in know time I had an open line of communication with Mr. Jeff Mitchell, who not only appreciated our pledge of support, but also sent out letters and set up the visit around our scattered, travel plans. We didn’t know whom we’d visit, or why he (we knew the prisoner was male) was incarcerated. All we knew was that he could use a visit.
Melissa and I were pretty nervous. What would we say? What shouldn’t we say? We didn’t know how much or how little he would want to tell us? Conversely, on a great trip ourselves; we didn’t know how much of our “good times” would be appropriate to share? We hoped for the best. I couldn’t begin to image what this person must be going through. In a cell, far away from anything that resembled home, all alone, with the constant stream of thoughts that could, undoubtedly, drive one mad.
August 8th we woke up in Bangkok. The day before we leave Thailand, and ironically enough by American time 5 years to the day that I was released from my brief stay in the low security jail known as LCF.
It stared with a trip to the Embassy. They required us to show them our passports and receive the necessary documents that would get us inside. Actually this was my first time in any embassy and it was a little weird being the only Americans surrounded by a dozen British folks jabbering about taxes and their Thai wives. We tried not to talk much. Eventually we were called into a special room to be briefed. They had prepared everything. We had a map, our official documents, and a memo for a taxi driver to deliver us there with no fuss.
We arrived early. Klong Prem Central Prison, aka the Bangkok Hilton, is a compound of 5 prisons total, with prisoners separated accordingly i.e. narcotics, violent, women’s, etc.

It was obviously regular visiting hours and many families and people were gathered about different parts of the courtyards outside the prison. We went inside to a room (as instructed) and waited where foreign visitors seem to wait regularly. I figured as much when two Mexican ladies came to wait as well. The Thai guards were extremely intimidating, yet incredibly helpful. They march about, never at ease, equipped with fatigues, guns, and faces that seem chiseled from stone.
We passed through many doors, fences, gates and checkpoints. Finally we checked our bags in, but kept our valuables on us. Through a courtyard we approached a building with and overhang that had a long bench in front of a glass screened wall. The guards sort of left us on our own. Slightly confused and looking about I saw a smiling face through the glass. Paul greeted us right away. “Hi guys, shall we come down here?” Thailand had taken some toll on his accent, yet he was undeniably British. He appeared healthy, in good spirits, and had obviously recently showered and shaved for the occasion. I figured he was about 28 (I about 5 years shy). He had shaggy long hair, all combed back and a small touch of a goatee. All in all, a good-looking chap I’d say.
Trying to see through the reflection on the glass, and get our voices into the screen below, Melissa and I introduced ourselves. He thanked us immensely. During his 2 ½ years in prison, he told us, he had had only a few visits. Once his family, and a couple of random people like us. His cool demeanor and welcoming smile immediately alleviated all of our concerns.
We knew we were on the clock and didn’t waste any time. Melissa and I talked about our travel plans, and comings and goings. We talked about Thailand, the good and the bad. We told him our story, the short version, and then he told us his.
It turns out we had more than a bit in common. He was a chef by trade in London, and took up long term traveling with his girlfriend. They came to Thailand and fell in love with Phuket. So they bought a bar and decided to stay. As he recalled these memories his eyes showed that they had been great times, and he had been very happy. The tsunami of 2004 wiped them out. They lost it all. He took up cooking jobs and they were getting by, but I can only assume all was not well. One particular night Paul and his girlfriend had a huge fight. They were both very drunk, and things got way out of hand. She hit him, and he hit her back. She fell and broke her neck. As he spoke these words our hearts sank.
Thailand has no manslaughter charge within its courts, so Paul was charged with murder. Luckily he received the minimum sentence, 10 years. Had there been the slightest bit of evidence to suggest there was any intent on his part he would either be dead, or in for life.
He told us the time is doable. He gets to spend most of his day outside, and he receives 1500 Baht ($44) per month from British charities. “If you can buy a pack of smokes and some decent food here and there it’s not nearly as bad”, he mentioned after telling us how unbelievably awful the food is. He did say though “the best thing about prison…I’ve lost 22 kilos!” He spends his nights sleeping on the floor, and days focusing on staying in shape and out of trouble.
The British embassy takes very good care of their prisoners. In addition to the charity, a consular comes to the prison to check on him every 6 weeks. This ensures his safety. The Thai guards are terrified of the embassies. Whereas the Thai prisoners get beat and abused left and right, the foreigners get a bit of leniency. Paul told us when he writes his embassy they write back, regardless, and promptly. This was much more than he could say for his American friends. What he told us about the Embassy of the United States was appalling. He has two American friends who are completely lost. They receive little to no communication or support from the states. One of his friends has been cleared for release 7 months ago, and yet he waits for the United States to “pick him up” on their time. 7 months extra time, for no good reason. In the mean time he wasn’t able to see his father before he passed away, and missed the chance to be at his funeral. From what Paul told us it seems that Americans in Thai prisons are truly forgotten by their country. It made us wish we had visited an American prisoner, yet we received no reply email from the American embassy of Thailand.
Before we new it our time was up. There were so many questions we didn’t get to ask. I could have sat there for hours. We plan to stay in touch and write him letters from time to time. He’s do to got back to England in about 3 years given his good time and the regular amnesties given out by Thai royalty. He wants to one day move to Cambodia and start his own restaurant. I’d like to go there.
Paul was a very nice man. I couldn’t imagine anyone being in his shoes and having a head any straighter. He certainly isn’t a murderer. He’s barely even a criminal. He wasn’t smuggling drugs, or involved with any mafia. He never took an illegal risk and hoped for a big pay off. He did hit his girlfriend, and ended the life of someone he loved. I was happy we were able to meet him, and have a nice conversation.

~We’re back in Japan now. Our Internet access has been limited. I wrote this a couple weeks ago after our trip to Koh Chang Island.~

We hopped on to the ferry just as the gate began to rise. The engine of the huge boat revved and we chugged across the straight to Koh Chang Island, just off the coast of Trat city.

In the hierarchy of Thailand beaches Koh Chang isn’t the grandest, but it was our only chance to be beach side while in Thailand. We had become slightly frustrated that after four months in Asia we had yet to actually swim in the ocean, so we jumped on the opportunity.

The beaches of Puhket, on the west side of the southern peninsula, are revered as the best (which also covered with high end resorts and overpriced restaurants) of the country. On the other side of the peninsula the islands and beaches are considered second best, and the islands of and around Koh Chang are third. The beaches of the main land and around Pataya are said to be the worst and full of garbage, prostitutes and German mafia. However, all of the top three have beautiful white sandy beaches and crystal clear water.

Number three was good enough for us. From Bangkok it was only a 5-hour bus ride, and a half hour ferry (this directly followed our 11 hour bus ride from Chiang Mai). Once we landed we took a taxi to the south west side of the island to Kai Bei beach. Given that it wasn’t peak season we found somewhat gloomy skies and very cheap bungalows.

We paid 400 Baht (about $12) each night for our own free standing room right on the beach with the ocean just a seashell’s throw away. It was beautiful and despite some clouds we still managed to get a bit of red to our faces. We spent our three days swimming, exploring, and enjoying the company of one another, with the waves rushing to our feet.

This was after all our first wedding anniversary. We were married on a beach, in a hidden cove of the great state of Nebraska, and it seemed fitting to be on one again. We both couldn’t believe it had been a year already since that hot day in South Bend. We reminisced about the good times we all had, the delicious vegan wedding cake and all the amazing vegan food, the cold Lazlo’s beer on tap, and the bluegrass of the Toasted Ponies. Not to mention an amazing guest list of our friends and family we miss so much. Starring into the ocean it really sank in, we had come a long way in a year, in so many ways.

These were by far our favorite days in Thailand. Relaxation and peace and quite was exactly what we needed after our previous jungle excursion and the busyness of the cities. It was rather hard to wake up in the morning and make our way to the port.

We did though, excited in a new way. We had only one last adventure in Thailand…visiting a British citizen in a Thai prison.

I didn’t have Internet access for a while so this is a bit of a long one.

When we arrived in Thailand we had already planned on getting to the northern side of the country pretty quick. We had booked our over night train tickets but that was about it. During our first two days in Bangkok we talked to several Thai people on the streets and they all urged us to book our trip to Chiang Mai. Turns out it was the weekend of the biggest Buddhist holiday all year. Given that we heard the same story from many people we went against our instinct and made it over to a TAT (Tourism Authority of Thailand) domestic travel agency. The agent was a younger guy, who (by the big diamond earring) was obviously way into American pop culture. He was very nice and booked out every one of our days in Thailand and showed us a nice little package we could buy. He kept using phrases like, “you wont have to worry about anything”, and “this is your holiday leave it to me”. It was really nice, but out of our price range. Time and time again we told him to much, and he lowered the price. After much debating we decided to book the Chiang Mai bit of the trip, figuring there would be no other way to find a room (Buddhist holiday) and skip the rest. The main point that sold us was a three-day jungle trek that we booked along with a few nights accommodation.

The train ride out of Bangkok was an experience in and of itself. Our seats were great, the sleeper bed was way comfortable, and if we ever needed entertainment we needed only look out the window.

While still in the Bangkok metro area the tracks are lined with communities of people living under homemade steel roofs. Huts and shacks are lined up for miles connecting by vast networks of dirt paths. Families sat gathered together cooking dinner over rusted trashcans. Piles of garbage rotted about as high as some of their shanties. The only thing happy about any of these ghettos was the children playing with homemade whiffle balls, and coconut shells.

In the morning the red sun rose over the beautiful landscape of northern Thailand. Banana and palm trees grow like weeds amidst a jungle of plants I didn’t recognize. Every so often I would see a fire in among the forest and make out a small camp set up, which was obviously someone’s home. Getting off the train and to our room was a relief. We relaxed, and gained our energy for the journey to come.

We didn’t really know what we were in for when we signed up for the Three-day jungle trek. We thought it could be really cool, or really lame, but either way we would get to see some of the jungle and nature of the north.

The first day we set out, 13 trekkers and 3 guides, at 9:00am. We drove to the local market where we picked up any last provisions. The warned us to buy a rain poncho.

Afterwards we drove to a spot for some elephant riding. I halfway expected them to put us on an elephant, take us about a clearing, and ask if we enjoyed the ride. It was so much more. Melissa and I mounted our big grey steed and set off. Our elephant followed trails through thick brush and trees. He scaled slopes and crossed creeks. Not without persuasion though. If you don’t have a banana or piece of sugar cane to give him every other minute he can get a bit cranky.

Whenever a bit of difficult walking would arise he would stop, put is snout in our faces, and make a whine saying, “FEED ME!” We also had a couple free loading babies hitting us up for food too. Conveniently, in thatched roof huts along our safari path, locals sell bags of elephant food for 20 baht. Prices definitely rise when on the backs of large mammals!

We eventually made it to a beautiful clearing looking into the mountains, and sunshine.

Our thirsty elephants drank up and the watering troughs and took us back. Our posse of Europeans and Americans were all pretty amazed at the beautiful elephants and took lots of pictures while smiling and joking with each other.

After our ride we stopped in the last of the town area and had a wonderful Thai lunch. It was all trekking from here on out. About 15 minutes into our walk it began to rain. Then it began to rain much harder. Then it began to pour as if the clouds were trying to wash us off the hillside. Our path soon became a mudslide. I was wearing a pair of Teva style knock off sandals I bought at the night market. They broke of course. As the rain came down, and I trekked up and down mudslides, barefoot as the sun came through the clouds. The rain and sunshine thrown over tropical wilderness made a scene more captivating than I could ever describe. Our rain ponchos were Baht well spent. Luckily the rain had stopped by the time we made to our first waterfall. We were already wet but I think the sweat beat out the rainwater.

For the next 2 nights and days we trekked. We all became friends and our guides showed us good times (and let me borrow a pair of knock off crocks). Each day we had least 2 waterfalls we stopped at to swim, bath, and relax at. I have since decided that the best waterfalls are the ones you can swim. At one fall we came to another group of trekkers was already in the pool. A small group of us scaled our way up the side of the hill to the pool above. It was really nice and became our VIP area. We slide down rocks and played in the water until we realized little black worm looking things all over us. They seemed to stay in the rocks and latched onto us when we went sliding about. The guys laughed and the girls screamed and we all made our way down picking ourselves clean.

We slept in huts on the out skirts of small mountain villages. We saw the sun move from hillside to hillside weaving its way through the high and low Thai clouds. Our guides prepared our meals using herbs from the surrounding jungle. Potato curry, and fresh stir fried veggies never tasted better.

On the last day we took ride on bamboo rafts down the Wang River. It was a nice way to end a long journey. Along the way we got to see the eco system of the riverbanks, and the people that live along them. Sam (England) and I took turns manning the rear bamboo control poll. It was loads of fun.

We spent our last two days Chiang Mai city strolling about, drinking beers, and eating Thai food of the north. Chiang Mai is infinitely more fun than Bangkok, and all the travelers we talked to seem to agree. It’s the second largest city in Thailand, but it seems that all of the industry and commerce areas are isolated away from the town center. The bars, guesthouses, and night markets are centered around a square canal that flows with the cities spirit. We explored bookstores, patroned street shops, and hung out with our new trekking friends.

We enjoyed Chiang Mai, but when we got on the overnight bus we knew it would only be about 15 short hours until we were beach side! Koh Chang here we come.

We are definitely not in Kansas anymore…or Japan for that matter.

We made it. The flight on JAL 703 was amazing; despite the fact the Melissa and I got separated ☹. We had our noises were in Harry Potter books anyways. It turns out vegan meals get served first and the flight attendants served us multiple Yebisu beers.

Arriving at BKK airport was quite a shock at first. The airport is huge. In the main entrance there’s a crazy systems of massive escalators, sort of. They have no steps so they can accommodate carts, and they level out at times before descending or ascending again. The Muslim prayer room also surprised me. It seemed normal enough with many Muslims about, but what I found interesting was the sign. It was right with the “exit”, “restrooms”, “telephone”…”Muslim prayer room”. Icons of praying Muslims and all (one garbed one not)

Standing in the foreign passports line in customs I realized how not-diverse Japan really is. Usually in Japan you see 85% Japanese people 10%other Asians, and the rest a mix of whiteies and Africans. Not the case in BKK. Whites, Blacks, Browns, and everything in between, of every variety, surrounded us quite homogeneously. I really felt like a member of a global community. The hum of foreign dialects tuned in like an AM radio station. I didn’t know a human could make such sounds. I felt as if my blue passport with that big, bold, eagle on it stood out like a sore thumb. Not that there’s no other Americans coming to Thailand, but I couldn’t help but think about all the political relationships between the hundred people directly around me. I suppose it a good thing that we’re all just people and not governments.

The taxi drivers are insane, or the worlds best drivers. Perhaps both. Like a swarm of bumble bees they move in and out of lanes, all acting as if they are one big organism. Sometimes a three-lane road will have four or five cars in one row, and then a few motorcycles come zipping through.

-this is a Toktok, not a regular taxi. Half rickshaw, half motorcycle, and way fun, cheap too

The family running our hostel was waiting for us at the door. They helped us in, gave us water and made us feel like royalty. This was really our first time interacting with Thai people (they don’t care that much in the cabs or at the airport). They were nicer than we ever thought. So far they have whipped up home made Thai food on a whim, served us fresh squeezed orange juice (as in we waited why they went and squeezed some), and given us loads of advice on Bangkok. The husband speaks very good English, however our communication with his wife is all smiles and thoughts.

-fresh fruit for breakfast

Our room is great. I’d compare it to an older Econo-lodge in Iowa, just it’s $8 a night. When first showed in after the lights were flipped on the owner had to shoo out a 9” spider. He gave one swift flick of the wrist and murmured some Thai that I figured meant “Get out of here, you knew we had guest in here tonight!”

Walking the streets is an adventure all in it’s self. Sometimes the nicest person will just want to chat about Thailand, America, what brought you to Thailand, and then wish you a good stay and be on their way. Other times pushy cab drivers wont stop following you, and street vendors can be rather harassing too.

Bangkok is ok. It’s just a big city, and doesn’t seem to have so many of the redeeming qualities we felt in Tokyo and Taipei. They do have a very simple and very user-friendly Skytrain and MRT/BTS systems. However with only three limited lines it seems that (at this point) it’s really just a big shopper’s shuttle. There are so many foreigners in Bangkok, us included. Most of them though are just here to buy crap anyways. The Thai people know it. It’s obvious that they’re here to take advantage of a relatively cheap Asian shopping experience (although prices are rising). The way I look at it, crap, i.e. stuff you don’t need is always expensive no matter how low the price is. We can’t wait to get up north. Everyone has been saying great things.

I want to make friends with an elephant.

We saw the new Harry Potter movie. It was awesome! I don’t have for any kind of full review, but I will say this movie really inspired me to move out of Harry Potter poserism and read these frickin books. I’m almost done with the first and plan to finish the second within the next two weeks. I’ll have some reading time…

In an hour Melissa and I get on a 2-hour train for Narita airport, then catch a 5 and a half hour flight to Thailand. Two days after we land in Thailand we will be taking a 13-hour train north to Chaing Mai. As well as each of those journeys back.

Sawatdee!