When I left Korea, I told myself that my vacation was over and I was headed back to reality. But then I landed in Calgary- a city just as surreal as Seoul, but in a totally different way. Canada is messed up. My painful ten hour flight came to an end in Vancouver at 11am on Thursday. Singapore Air is the way to fly- I had all the leg room I could possibly want, my own TV with over a hundred movies and channels, video games and all the rest. A flight made even more enjoyable by the memories of my painful Air Canada experience en route to Korea. Knowing full well that I had little time to clear Immigration and Customs, and catch my West Jet flight, I wasted no time in getting to the Immigration desk. It was useless to rush. I was met by the sight of five hundred irritated Canadians awaiting their readmission to their own country. I pondered the irony of having experienced no waits in entering and exiting Thailand or Laos, or even Korea - despite the fact that my latest entry into the country was for only twenty-four hours. I waited (less than patiently) in line to be re-admitted to Canada. I kept careful watch on the time and became more and more irritable as it became increasingly unlikely that I would board my flight bound for Calgary. I finally reached the desk with thirty minutes to go before my flight. The man chatted casually and seemed annoyed that I was so rushed. He marked a 1 on my customs card, which I soon found out meant that I was to be searched at customs. He underlined weapons on the declaration and wished me a good day. I dragged my bags off the over-flowing luggage carousel - it had gotten stuck and was no longer moving because there were too many bags on it. I ran through the gate into the customs area and was stopped by the dreaded customs man... every traveller's nightmare. He directed me to the search area and I pondered the so-called random search. Ten Asian people were lined up in front of me. Behind me, two other English teachers coming from Korea. Hmm... random... if you say so. I finally reached the front and glanced at my watch. Ten minutes. The woman politely asked if I had picked up any weapons in Laos that I had forgotten to declare. I said no. Instead of tearing open my bags, as seemed to be happening to all the Asian people around me, she settled for scanning my bags through the X-ray machine and sent me on my way... after further questions about who paid my flight to Korea, how much cash I was carrying, what purchases I made, what I had shipped home... I got to the West Jet desk hoping that they would give me the chance to run to the gate. They didn't. They charged me 50$ for a seat on the next flight- apparently it wasn't West Jet's problem that Immigration Canada had only staffed two people... it was mine.
Calgary is surreal. Carrie picked me up at the airport and I felt as though I hadn't seen the sky in a year. Really, I hadn't. I can't explain the feeling of being back here. Calgary has changed. Both money and aggresion have reached Calgary, and I know it's not just me. I may be more sensitive to it having come from Asia, but other Calgarians have noticed it too. Two years ago, the homeless people of downtown Calgary were just that- homeless. Now the people downtown at night don't seem so much homeless as cracked out. Last year in Calgary, downtown creeped me out a little- this time my instinct was to run. I witnessed a bar fight for the first time in a year- and watched as the two 'men' were escorted out of the bar by the police. With the mass migration to Calgary has come diversity. And it is long overdue. I was thrown by all the different ethnicities that I saw around me. Calgary has long been a predominantly white city, and it is nice to see that changing. Ethnic restaurants are opening up all over the city and different languages are starting to be heard. It's so good to see. If you're willing to put some time in and look for culture, you'll find it. Calgary has long been home to safe art- but experimental arts are also on the rise. Years ago, Albertan artist kd Lang was denounced for being a vegetarian. Today, a successful vegan cafe calls 17th Ave home. Calgary is changing- for better and for worse. But as I touched on earlier this year, I've been gone too long to call it home. I don't recognise the city anymore. As I flipped through Fast Forward (free newspaper), I turned to my friend and asked him what Broken City meant. He laughed. You know it's not home anymore when you ask about the city's biggest club. Mordecai Richler once said that Calgary would be a nice city once they got it unpacked. I hope that in 'unpacking' Calgary, they don't lose what makes it a great city. There aren't too many big cities left like Calgary. My friend Drew who recently moved there from Montreal tells me that he considers himself a polite Montrealer, and a rude Calgarian. He's absolutely right. I'm thrown every time I go back by the bus drivers that say 'hello' as you get on the bus, and the people that make small talk at a bus stop. Calgary is a friendly city- and I hope as it grows by a hundred people a day, that it manages to hold onto that.
The adjustment to paying sales tax and tipping has been a hard one. I have the distinct impression that people in Canada are out to steal from me. And they are... or at least the government and big corporations are. I've touched a little bit on the obscenely low prices that I enjoyed in Korea- perhaps I should expand on this, because I'm determined to start a revolution in Canada. I want answers. When I bought my cell phone in Korea, I asked the woman how much it cost. 140$ she told me. I asked about all the added charges and she simply repeated , 140$. But how much for a phone number, I asked. She asked what good a phone was without a number. No charge, 140$ she repeated. I asked about the activation fee. She asked what good an inactive phone was. 140$, she repeated once again. That includes a month of service, she added. Over my time in Seoul, my cell phone cost me 10$ a month. I had free text messaging, free voicemail, free call display and free call waiting. I didn't pay for incoming calls, or for calls made from a calling card. My phone worked on the subway, and I was never out of the service area, not even in the mountains.
But it doesn't stop at cell phone service. My bank, KB Star, was open daily from nine to six- at every location. I got free calendars, umbrellas, cell phone holders if I had to wait in line. There was no service charge to use the machine during bank hours, and only a 60 cent charge to use it after hours. The use of another bank's machine set you back 60 cents, not three dollars. When I moved apartments, my cable and phone line were transferred that same day- with the service men showing up at the apartment less than half an hour after they were called... on Boxing Day. Tipping is an insult in Korea, as it is taken as an implication that you are calling them poor. But if there are people that deserve to be tipped, it's Korean service people. They trip over themselves to help you put on your jacket and shoes. They wait on you literally hand and foot. Arriving back in Canada, I'm irritated that I'm expected to subsidize the salary of the person serving me. I worked in the service industry for far too long not to tip, but I can't help but find it obnoxious. To be honest, service people in Alberta can bite me. I tipped, but wish I hadn't. While any server will get up in arms about how they're taxes on their tips, Albertan servers have no right to complain. Throw 50$ down as declared tips on your income tax and everyone's happy. In Quebec, however, the server is taxed on their sales. The equivalent of eight percent of your sales are deducted from your pay cheque, meaning that if you make less than that, you actually lose money going in to work. On top of that, your underpaid co-workers also expect to be tipped out- meaning that now you have to make at least 11% just to break even. Disgusting. Canada is viewed as one of the world's wealthiest countries- we are G-8 after all. So why is our country so corrupt? And why aren't we demanding changes? In Quebec, you can expect to lose nearly 50% of your income to taxes (30% to income tax plus 15% to sales tax). And for what? Thailand had flatter roads than Montreal. Seoul had a better cell phone network. Mexico has free education. Both Korea and Thailand enjoy super-cheap health care. And for those who proudly say that we have free universal health care, you've been fooled. Albertans have to pay 40$ a month for their basic health care. The rate is the same in Korea, except you can actually get your wisdom teeth pulled for 3$ there. I plan on meeting with my MP to get some answers. I'll let you know.
I'm glad to be back in Canada. I'm releaved to finally hear a plethora of languages around me. I feel at home in a city where I can have maply syrup for breakfast, Korean food for lunch and Greek for dinner, without even trying. I can see the stars at night. I feel a little lonely walking down the street- just last week, I had twenty million friends parading about with me. But I also feel releaved that I don't have to push my way through crowds in downtown Montreal. As much as Calgary changes every time I visit, Montreal stays exactly the same. It makes no apologies. There's no place like it anywhere else in the world, and for better or for worse, it's home for now.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Homeward Bound... Indirectly
That's that. My bags are packed and I'm waiting at my Korean apartment for my boss to pick me up and drive me to the airport. I've barely slept in three days. On the 13th, I took the bus from Vientiane to Bangkok- which I thought was twelve hours, turned out to be only nine. I arrived in Bangkok at 5am and went on the hunt for a place to stay. Everything was full, so it took me awhile. I finally crashed at 6:30am and woke at 10am to do one last run through the landmarks I'd missed in Bangkok. At 8pm, I made my way to the airport and boarded the plane at midnight. The flight was just short enough that I managed to fall asleep and was woken up half an hour later for breakfast. I did one last run around Seoul and met up with Leslie for some digi-galbi (bbq pork with all the side dishes). Afterwards I met up with Song for last beers and good-bye. It was hard to do. I crashed last night in my old bed as my short-term roomate, Joey stayed out with friends. I enjoyed my last night to myself in my big bed. I woke up at 9:30am, feeling like I was late for school. I started to pack and have now finished stuffing a year's worth of memories into a few big bags. My flight leaves at 6pm (Thursday, Nov 16) and arrives in Calgary at 3pm (Thursday, Nov 16)- meaning of course, that I arrive in Calgary three hours before I leave Korea. The jet lag might just kill me. I've strategized, however- I've slept as little as possible, hoping that I'll fall right asleep as soon as I get on the plane. In any case, I'm off for my last bibimbap (rice, vegetables, egg and red pepper paste- all mixed up). I should have photos up shortly of my trip and will be sure to update on my culture shock upon returning to Canada. I apologize in advance for my slow speech and inability to complete sentences without pausing. I might have been here to teach- and my kids learned alot, but my English has regressed. Don't say you haven't been warned.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
My Laos Experience
Some days ago (I'm not sure how many), I boarded a mini-van in Chiang-Mai and made my way to Chiang Khong- the last stop before Laos. The town was charming and quite small. Although they have tourists running through there all the time on their way to Laos, the locals were still excited to see foreigners and kids stopped what they were doing to stare. Once 'hellos' were exchanged, they'd go back to whatever they were doing. Our guest house was far from luxurious, but we were right on the Mekong river and had a beautiful view at sunset. The next morning, we picked up our bags and made our way to the dock where we were ushered into tipsy motorized canoes to take us on our thirty second journey across the Mekong to Laos. After passing through 'customs' and having my passport stamped a hundred times, we boarded the slow boat that would take us (eventually) into the heart of Laos. I was last on the boat and settled myself right at the front with the locals. I had by far the best seat on the boat- far from the smell of the toilet and the deafening sound of the motor at the back of the boat. The sun was always on my side and I even had the priviledge of stretching out my legs. I received envious looks throughout the journey and promised myself that I would not leave my seat until we docked in Pak Beng.
I learned a very important lesson in Pak Beng. Never, ever, ever book a room without having seen it first. As we boarded the slow boats, the man herding us into the boats indicated that we may have trouble finding a place to stay as the sun would have set by the time we arrived and the town had no electricity. Suckers that we are, each of us shelled out our 200 baht (about 6$) to guarantee our rooms that night. When the boat pulled into the town some six hours later, it was clear that we had been taken. Those of us that had fallen for the trick- myself, two Austrians, six Brits, and two Israelis followed the creepy little man back to our guest house. I had been weary of booking the room without having seen it, but I thought what were the chances that I would be screwed the first time I did it? I thought, no big deal- it's only one night anyway. The creepy little man finally stopped in front of our guest house and we each made our way in. Up a steep, narrow flight of stairs we encountered six wooden doors. The hallway looked like it belonged in a film about Alcatraz. I dropped my bag in my room and went out for dinner. The place wasn't pleasant, but one night there wouldn't kill me. Besides, I had very little kip on me (Laos currency) and had noticed that while Baht is accepted everywhere, the prices seem to triple when you use it. I went for dinner with the British girls- who turned out to be quite dull. They were travelling all over the world in one year- starting from London and then through India, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Australia, South and North America. They had just left four weeks ago- had whipped through India- or rather, the expensive, beach front cities in India and were now making their way through Laos. I was subject to an hour rambling about all the foods that they missed from home- namely different types of chocolate bars dipped in tea. Once they finished that, I was subject to another half hour rambling about how they had each gained weight since leaving London and they couldn't imagine how. This was followed by another half hour of "Do I look better with my hair up or down?" "Do I look better with my hair straight or curly?" "Do I look tired today?" "I looked awful that day we were in New Delhi- remember?" I almost died of boredom. Just as I my head was about to explode, the two Israelis boys sat down and interrupted the girl talk. I proceeded to experience extreme embarrassment when one of the Brits asked what sort of things there were to see in Israel. The two Israelis, Nati and Avi, just stared at her without responding. Another said she had heard there was good skiing in Israel. Thankfully the girls finished their meals and headed out to find chocolate bars to dip in their tea. I stayed behind with Nati and Avi for awhile- quite interested in their perspectives on Israel as ski central. When we returned to the guest house, we discovered it was worse than we had thought. The bathrooms did not have light bulbs and were lit by candles, making an already dank and dirty room seem even worse. The hot showers that we had been promised turned out to be enormous bathtubs full of dirty water. It smelled really bad. I went upstairs to my room and covered my bed in clothes- it was too late to look for another guest house, the electric generator in the town was about to be turned off, plunging everything in darkness. I went to sleep with my keys in one hand and mosquito repellent in the other. I couldn't explain it, but I had a really bad feeling about the creepy little man that ran the guest house. He had asked me earlier to join him for a beer and I had said no. He seemed shocked, saying that he always drank with the Canadian girls that came through. He wasn't pleased when he stormed away, and left me with a bad feeling. I lay awake for quite awhile, nervous. Feeling quite disgusted with the state of the guest house, I barely slept. I was awoken at 5:00am by the screams of the British girls next door. They had heard rats and weren't able to turn the lights on because the generator wouldn't start up until 6. Having woken everybody up, we all made our way downstairs for some bad coffee and counted down the minutes till the slow boat would leave this horrible place. We were on the boat a full two hours before it left, and none of us bathed in the trough of dirty water. A Chilean man I met a few days later told me he had made the mistake of buying pot in this town- and someone had threatened to call the police unless he paid them off. Possession of marijuana doesn't get you jail time in Laos, but is used as a means to extract money from tourists. The going rate for possession, apparently, is 500 US dollars.
In any case, we lived through the night and eight hours later, pulled into Luang Prabang. Despite the first impression I had of Laos, Luang Prabang redeemed it completely. I quickly forgot about the creepy little man and the horrible guest house. A recent adddition to the UNESCO list, Luang Prabang has a unique mix of French colonial architecture with ancient temples. The temples were less polished than in Thailand, allowing the age of them to really hit you. The town was absolutely beautiful. You can see that the town is verging on huge changes- store fronts are being redone and immaculate guest houses can be found at really reasonable prices. Travel agents all over the main street reveal that they are preparing for a boom in tourism. There were tourists everywhere- but somehow it didn't feel like the town was being overrun. The Laos government is so fearful of their country turning into tourist central that they are really cracking down on laws to maintain the Laos way of life. Everything- bars and restaurants included, close at 10pm. Posters all over the town remind visitors that prostitution is illegal, and will land you in jail. People sit in front of temples reminding visitors to please cover their shoulders as a sign of respect to Buddha. I treated myself to a night in an expensive guest house to make up for the previous night- headed out for a Laos massage (1 hour cost me 3$) and passed out early. The staff at the massage place invited me to stay for tea, but I could hardly keep my eyes open. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I spent the following day running about to see the main sights and prepared to leave for Vang Vieng in the morning.
I've learned not to believe bus schedules and the like. I was promised the bus left promptly at 9:30am, but arrived at the station to discover that in reality, that meant 10:30am. I met a Mexican guy, Branko, and as we were the only two foreigners on the bus, I was quite happy that he was interesting and didn't talk about tea dipped chocolate. We pulled into Vang Vien at 6pm, instead of the promised arrival time of 3pm. No matter- I've become accustomed to it by now. We went for dinner and noticed that the menu included 'happy food'- so we ordered a joint and sat back in the restaurant contemplating this odd town. Vang Vieng has become backpacker central in Laos, and neither of us could decide if we liked it or not. It was definetly not Laos, but it was a place that promised countless ways to spend the day in the sun and allowed you out past the 10pm curfew that existed elsewhere in Laos. The locals were so relaxed- whenever we tried to pay for something, they kept saying "later, later". I marvelled at the fact that it must mean they trusted tourists a great deal- and have yet to be burned by them, which is a very nice thought. We awoke early the next morning and decided to throw ourselves into the backpacker scene. Apparently a right of passage in traveling South East Asia is tubing down the Mekong river. So we grabbed our tubes and headed for the launch point- it took us about four hours to float back to our guest house and we arrived relaxed. I don't think there could possibly be a better way to spend a day than floating leisurely down a river in the mountains with the sun beaming down on you... and plenty of places to stop for beer along the way. Towards the end of the trip, we were swarmed by young Lao children wanting to talk. They gripped our tubes and floated down the river with us.
This morning, I said good-bye to my Mexican friend and boarded a bus to the capital- Vientiane. Of course, we arrived an hour and a half later than expected. I've checked into a guest house and wandered around the town. It seems that Vientiane is not the place to be. Tomorrow I'll be doing a quick run around the city and then heading back to Thailand to catch my flight back to Korea. It's been quite a week. Forgive me. I've lost all sense of time- which I believe is a good indication of a busy, yet relaxed vacation in the sun. It feels like I left Seoul yesterday, and ten years ago at the same time. I've eaten more baguettes in the last few days than I think I have in my life. Apparently I needed to make up for a whole baguette-free year. This trip through Laos and Thailand was exactly what I needed after a year in Korea. It's so refreshing to encounter people who have nothing and are absolutely fine with it. They have absolutely no desire to have our digital cameras, or our nice clothes. Buddhist to the core, both countries demonstrate an incredible sense of happiness. Content with what they have. In Korea, people often tell me that they would love to move to Canada. I haven't heard that at all from locals here. They just smile and say Canada has nice people. There is something so beautiful about seeing people as they really are. They have nothing whatsoever to hide. The Laos people are still a little unsure about tourists, but you can tell that they love it all the same. They're excited that so many people are visiting, but still seem a little thrown because it has happened so suddenly. The children in particular seem really confused by the sudden presence of blue-eyed, backpack people in their small towns. But it doesn't stop them from running around naked. I leave here genuinely relaxed and happy that I have had the chance to experience, at least a little bit, this absolutely beautiful country before it becomes overrun by tourists. So far Laos seems to be teetering on the edge of big changes, and they're doing their best to maintain their culture and way of life as best they can while welcoming people into their country. I only hope that we will be respectful of their wishes. The ideal traveller is one who can blend in as easily as possible with the culture they are in. I hope that those tubing down the Mekong river will read the sign that pleads with women not to don their bikinis for the trip and asks that when walking about in town, clothes are worn overtop of swimsuits. I don't think it's too much to ask if it makes the Laos people feel more comfortable with the abundance of Westerners parading through their towns...
I learned a very important lesson in Pak Beng. Never, ever, ever book a room without having seen it first. As we boarded the slow boats, the man herding us into the boats indicated that we may have trouble finding a place to stay as the sun would have set by the time we arrived and the town had no electricity. Suckers that we are, each of us shelled out our 200 baht (about 6$) to guarantee our rooms that night. When the boat pulled into the town some six hours later, it was clear that we had been taken. Those of us that had fallen for the trick- myself, two Austrians, six Brits, and two Israelis followed the creepy little man back to our guest house. I had been weary of booking the room without having seen it, but I thought what were the chances that I would be screwed the first time I did it? I thought, no big deal- it's only one night anyway. The creepy little man finally stopped in front of our guest house and we each made our way in. Up a steep, narrow flight of stairs we encountered six wooden doors. The hallway looked like it belonged in a film about Alcatraz. I dropped my bag in my room and went out for dinner. The place wasn't pleasant, but one night there wouldn't kill me. Besides, I had very little kip on me (Laos currency) and had noticed that while Baht is accepted everywhere, the prices seem to triple when you use it. I went for dinner with the British girls- who turned out to be quite dull. They were travelling all over the world in one year- starting from London and then through India, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Australia, South and North America. They had just left four weeks ago- had whipped through India- or rather, the expensive, beach front cities in India and were now making their way through Laos. I was subject to an hour rambling about all the foods that they missed from home- namely different types of chocolate bars dipped in tea. Once they finished that, I was subject to another half hour rambling about how they had each gained weight since leaving London and they couldn't imagine how. This was followed by another half hour of "Do I look better with my hair up or down?" "Do I look better with my hair straight or curly?" "Do I look tired today?" "I looked awful that day we were in New Delhi- remember?" I almost died of boredom. Just as I my head was about to explode, the two Israelis boys sat down and interrupted the girl talk. I proceeded to experience extreme embarrassment when one of the Brits asked what sort of things there were to see in Israel. The two Israelis, Nati and Avi, just stared at her without responding. Another said she had heard there was good skiing in Israel. Thankfully the girls finished their meals and headed out to find chocolate bars to dip in their tea. I stayed behind with Nati and Avi for awhile- quite interested in their perspectives on Israel as ski central. When we returned to the guest house, we discovered it was worse than we had thought. The bathrooms did not have light bulbs and were lit by candles, making an already dank and dirty room seem even worse. The hot showers that we had been promised turned out to be enormous bathtubs full of dirty water. It smelled really bad. I went upstairs to my room and covered my bed in clothes- it was too late to look for another guest house, the electric generator in the town was about to be turned off, plunging everything in darkness. I went to sleep with my keys in one hand and mosquito repellent in the other. I couldn't explain it, but I had a really bad feeling about the creepy little man that ran the guest house. He had asked me earlier to join him for a beer and I had said no. He seemed shocked, saying that he always drank with the Canadian girls that came through. He wasn't pleased when he stormed away, and left me with a bad feeling. I lay awake for quite awhile, nervous. Feeling quite disgusted with the state of the guest house, I barely slept. I was awoken at 5:00am by the screams of the British girls next door. They had heard rats and weren't able to turn the lights on because the generator wouldn't start up until 6. Having woken everybody up, we all made our way downstairs for some bad coffee and counted down the minutes till the slow boat would leave this horrible place. We were on the boat a full two hours before it left, and none of us bathed in the trough of dirty water. A Chilean man I met a few days later told me he had made the mistake of buying pot in this town- and someone had threatened to call the police unless he paid them off. Possession of marijuana doesn't get you jail time in Laos, but is used as a means to extract money from tourists. The going rate for possession, apparently, is 500 US dollars.
In any case, we lived through the night and eight hours later, pulled into Luang Prabang. Despite the first impression I had of Laos, Luang Prabang redeemed it completely. I quickly forgot about the creepy little man and the horrible guest house. A recent adddition to the UNESCO list, Luang Prabang has a unique mix of French colonial architecture with ancient temples. The temples were less polished than in Thailand, allowing the age of them to really hit you. The town was absolutely beautiful. You can see that the town is verging on huge changes- store fronts are being redone and immaculate guest houses can be found at really reasonable prices. Travel agents all over the main street reveal that they are preparing for a boom in tourism. There were tourists everywhere- but somehow it didn't feel like the town was being overrun. The Laos government is so fearful of their country turning into tourist central that they are really cracking down on laws to maintain the Laos way of life. Everything- bars and restaurants included, close at 10pm. Posters all over the town remind visitors that prostitution is illegal, and will land you in jail. People sit in front of temples reminding visitors to please cover their shoulders as a sign of respect to Buddha. I treated myself to a night in an expensive guest house to make up for the previous night- headed out for a Laos massage (1 hour cost me 3$) and passed out early. The staff at the massage place invited me to stay for tea, but I could hardly keep my eyes open. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I spent the following day running about to see the main sights and prepared to leave for Vang Vieng in the morning.
I've learned not to believe bus schedules and the like. I was promised the bus left promptly at 9:30am, but arrived at the station to discover that in reality, that meant 10:30am. I met a Mexican guy, Branko, and as we were the only two foreigners on the bus, I was quite happy that he was interesting and didn't talk about tea dipped chocolate. We pulled into Vang Vien at 6pm, instead of the promised arrival time of 3pm. No matter- I've become accustomed to it by now. We went for dinner and noticed that the menu included 'happy food'- so we ordered a joint and sat back in the restaurant contemplating this odd town. Vang Vieng has become backpacker central in Laos, and neither of us could decide if we liked it or not. It was definetly not Laos, but it was a place that promised countless ways to spend the day in the sun and allowed you out past the 10pm curfew that existed elsewhere in Laos. The locals were so relaxed- whenever we tried to pay for something, they kept saying "later, later". I marvelled at the fact that it must mean they trusted tourists a great deal- and have yet to be burned by them, which is a very nice thought. We awoke early the next morning and decided to throw ourselves into the backpacker scene. Apparently a right of passage in traveling South East Asia is tubing down the Mekong river. So we grabbed our tubes and headed for the launch point- it took us about four hours to float back to our guest house and we arrived relaxed. I don't think there could possibly be a better way to spend a day than floating leisurely down a river in the mountains with the sun beaming down on you... and plenty of places to stop for beer along the way. Towards the end of the trip, we were swarmed by young Lao children wanting to talk. They gripped our tubes and floated down the river with us.
This morning, I said good-bye to my Mexican friend and boarded a bus to the capital- Vientiane. Of course, we arrived an hour and a half later than expected. I've checked into a guest house and wandered around the town. It seems that Vientiane is not the place to be. Tomorrow I'll be doing a quick run around the city and then heading back to Thailand to catch my flight back to Korea. It's been quite a week. Forgive me. I've lost all sense of time- which I believe is a good indication of a busy, yet relaxed vacation in the sun. It feels like I left Seoul yesterday, and ten years ago at the same time. I've eaten more baguettes in the last few days than I think I have in my life. Apparently I needed to make up for a whole baguette-free year. This trip through Laos and Thailand was exactly what I needed after a year in Korea. It's so refreshing to encounter people who have nothing and are absolutely fine with it. They have absolutely no desire to have our digital cameras, or our nice clothes. Buddhist to the core, both countries demonstrate an incredible sense of happiness. Content with what they have. In Korea, people often tell me that they would love to move to Canada. I haven't heard that at all from locals here. They just smile and say Canada has nice people. There is something so beautiful about seeing people as they really are. They have nothing whatsoever to hide. The Laos people are still a little unsure about tourists, but you can tell that they love it all the same. They're excited that so many people are visiting, but still seem a little thrown because it has happened so suddenly. The children in particular seem really confused by the sudden presence of blue-eyed, backpack people in their small towns. But it doesn't stop them from running around naked. I leave here genuinely relaxed and happy that I have had the chance to experience, at least a little bit, this absolutely beautiful country before it becomes overrun by tourists. So far Laos seems to be teetering on the edge of big changes, and they're doing their best to maintain their culture and way of life as best they can while welcoming people into their country. I only hope that we will be respectful of their wishes. The ideal traveller is one who can blend in as easily as possible with the culture they are in. I hope that those tubing down the Mekong river will read the sign that pleads with women not to don their bikinis for the trip and asks that when walking about in town, clothes are worn overtop of swimsuits. I don't think it's too much to ask if it makes the Laos people feel more comfortable with the abundance of Westerners parading through their towns...
Monday, November 06, 2006
Divided on Thailand
Alright- time for a real posting. I arrived in Bangkok on Wednesday and headed directly for the ridiculously touristy area of Koh Sam Road. I was thankful for having been warned by Melisa, Alex and Mike about feeling like a guichet (ATM) in Bangkok. The plane landed and before I made it out of the airport, a dozen or so taxi drivers had already made an effort at landing me in their cab. Instead I boarded the express bus for free and eventually wound up in tourist land. The first travel agent that ushered me in his door gave me pricing information and was quite distraught that I was writting everything down. I had not yet done enough research into the prices to know what was reasonable, but had been warned that prices varied greatly. The man bragged about his membership with the Thailand Tourism Board (again, I had been warned that this meant absolutely nothing) and I left his shop promising to return when I checked the prices elsewhere. He had quoted me 7000 baht (about 280 Canadian) for a package from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, inclusive of the bus and the guided treking trip. I quickly learned that in reality, the trip should cost me no more than 1500 baht (about 40 Canadian)- needless to say, I didn't go back. My initial reaction to Bangkok as a whole was fairly negative, although perhaps it's not really fair. I was really thrown by the abundance of tourists and the amount of English was overwhelming to my Korean-acclimatized ears. I crashed early at the hostel and went out the next day by tuk-tuk (taxi on three wheels) to see all the key sights. A tuk-tuk driver agreed to take me around everywhere for 40 baht (about 1$) . We stopped at a a couple temples and then he insisted on taking me to a jewelry store. Again, I had been warned. A bit of an argument insued and finally he revealed that if he took me to this store the government would pay for his gas for the day. He said all I needed to do was walk in and walk out. So that's what I did. We moved on to the next temple, but when I came out, he was gone. Not that I can blame him. He had driven me around for four hours already and was only going to get a dollar out of the deal in the end. I would have left too if someone offered me twice as much for a quick trip.
The next day, I boarded the bus and ever so slowly and casually rolled into Chiang Mai (Northern Thailand). In true Thai fashion, the bus arrived half an hour late and sat for about an hour before we left. Of course, those of us not familiar with the complete lack of regard for time were quite stressed, wondering if we had missed the bus or were waiting in the wrong place. At 7 am the bus pulled into a random gas station and we were herded into vans from different guest houses. Of course I realized full well that I was being given little choice in my accomodation, but was too tired to care. It only cost me 6$ for my private room anyway. I rented a bike the next day and breezed around Chiang Mai in an effort to see all the temples I possibly could. I barely made a dent, but what I saw was absolutely incredible. The next morning, I awoke disgustingly early to head off into the jungle. Again, the bus was late and when it arrived it was less a bus and more a pick-up truck with everyone stuffed in the back. I called shot gun. Our first stop was at a gorgeous waterfall where we ate lunch and went swimming before piling back into the truck and arriving at a montain top temple. Finally we weer dropped in the middle of nowhere and began to walk through rice fields, jungle, up and down mountains. A few hours later we arrived at a Karyn hill tribe village where we ate dinner and settled into our bamboo hut for the night. When we arrived, children greeted us and thrust bracelets and necklaces in our hands, hoping for some purchases. The women stood back for a bit and when the children had cleared away, they approached with sarongs, sheets and scarves. After dinner we sat around the camp fire, drinking Chang beer and talking with the Karyn men who had come down to drink with us. There were a few children, a couple of young men and a very old man among them. The old man kept us entertained for hours with magic tricks that he'd clearly taught of all the children as well, as they laughed when we couldn't duplicate them. I drank the British boys under the table in an effort to uphold the Canadian reputation . To be fair, it seems it's not much of a challenge to drink a young Englishman under the table- they know nothing of pacing and kept chugging beer after beer. Silly boys. The following day, we awoke early for a second hike to an absolutely stunning waterfall. If the guide hadn't been pushing us to hurry, I easily could have spent the day there. The hike continued until finally we arrived at the river for our brief bamboo rafting experience. Then onto the elephants before our trip back to Chiang Mai. Last night was day three of a four day festival - Loy Krathong (spelling??) - in celebration of the King of Thailand. Chiang Mai just happens to be the biggest party in the country. People lit small fires inside of large balloons and sent them floating up into the night sky. Fireworks of all kinds were seen and heard throughout the city. A parade snaked through the streets and people made their way to the river to launch their flower boats with candles and incence. It was beautiful. I was meant to meet up for a beer with one of the guys from the hiking trip, but it seems we missed each other and I was perfectly happy to spend the night wandering about by myself.
The events of the last few days have put me in a strange frame of mind. I look around me, and I'm astounded by how warm and welcoming the Thai people are. I had anticipated feeling some sort of resentment with the number of tourists passing through, but there doesn't seem to be any. I have been stopped in the street countless times by people just wanting to say hi and ask where I'm from, where I'm headed. They are happy to share tidbits about Thai culture and history. I witnessed a Muay Thai boxing match the other night where the boxers just kept smiling the whole way through. The Thai people are poor, for the most part- but there doesn't seem to be a trace of greed or jealousy at the amount of money that tourists are dropping without a thought. Though people may try to rip you off, there's the sense that it's not so much out of greed as it is a desire to take care of their family. They are perfectly happy living the way they do. They aren't envious of our fancy cameras, or international trips. They aren't waiting for validation from the west. The Thai people are well aware that they have a beautiful country. But I can't help but feel divided about being here. On the one hand, I'm glad to have experienced - although briefly, this very beautiful country. But on the other, I feel that Thai culture is being overrun by westerners and I would rather not be a part of it. I very much enjoyed my time up in the hills with the Karyn tribe- it was so refreshing to see people who were truly happy with what they had, and didn't want anymore. But I was disgusted when a couple of the people on our trip whipped out their cameras and marched into the centre of the village to take photos (we were put up just outside the village). The people seemed unbothered by it, but I was embarrased. Perhaps spending a year as a novelty has made me quite sensitive to it. Maybe it's just decency. AsI watched the parade snake through the streets of Chiang Mai and people stopped floats to take pictures, it just felt like too much. As the Thai people tried to celebrate their king, westerns paused their festivities for a few photos. As I walked by a temple, I saw people taking pictures of the monks- which to the Buddhist monks, as I recall is extremely offensive. They believe that it steals your soul. I remember reading an article for my Philosophy of Leisure class in which a Hawaiian woman begged tourists to stop coming because it was destroying Hawaiian culture. I can't help but wonder if this isn't also true of Thailand. I was warned about the beaches in South Thailand and glad that I opted out- I think it would have enraged me. So I leave Thailand stuck between really wanting to come back and experience more of this truly fascinating country, and feeling a little sick that it' s becoming an absolute playground for westerners.
Tomorrow I'm on to Laos-- very, very slowly. I board the slow boat down the Mekong River tomorrow morning and will arrive in Luang Prabang on Wenesday night. I might just go crazy.
The next day, I boarded the bus and ever so slowly and casually rolled into Chiang Mai (Northern Thailand). In true Thai fashion, the bus arrived half an hour late and sat for about an hour before we left. Of course, those of us not familiar with the complete lack of regard for time were quite stressed, wondering if we had missed the bus or were waiting in the wrong place. At 7 am the bus pulled into a random gas station and we were herded into vans from different guest houses. Of course I realized full well that I was being given little choice in my accomodation, but was too tired to care. It only cost me 6$ for my private room anyway. I rented a bike the next day and breezed around Chiang Mai in an effort to see all the temples I possibly could. I barely made a dent, but what I saw was absolutely incredible. The next morning, I awoke disgustingly early to head off into the jungle. Again, the bus was late and when it arrived it was less a bus and more a pick-up truck with everyone stuffed in the back. I called shot gun. Our first stop was at a gorgeous waterfall where we ate lunch and went swimming before piling back into the truck and arriving at a montain top temple. Finally we weer dropped in the middle of nowhere and began to walk through rice fields, jungle, up and down mountains. A few hours later we arrived at a Karyn hill tribe village where we ate dinner and settled into our bamboo hut for the night. When we arrived, children greeted us and thrust bracelets and necklaces in our hands, hoping for some purchases. The women stood back for a bit and when the children had cleared away, they approached with sarongs, sheets and scarves. After dinner we sat around the camp fire, drinking Chang beer and talking with the Karyn men who had come down to drink with us. There were a few children, a couple of young men and a very old man among them. The old man kept us entertained for hours with magic tricks that he'd clearly taught of all the children as well, as they laughed when we couldn't duplicate them. I drank the British boys under the table in an effort to uphold the Canadian reputation . To be fair, it seems it's not much of a challenge to drink a young Englishman under the table- they know nothing of pacing and kept chugging beer after beer. Silly boys. The following day, we awoke early for a second hike to an absolutely stunning waterfall. If the guide hadn't been pushing us to hurry, I easily could have spent the day there. The hike continued until finally we arrived at the river for our brief bamboo rafting experience. Then onto the elephants before our trip back to Chiang Mai. Last night was day three of a four day festival - Loy Krathong (spelling??) - in celebration of the King of Thailand. Chiang Mai just happens to be the biggest party in the country. People lit small fires inside of large balloons and sent them floating up into the night sky. Fireworks of all kinds were seen and heard throughout the city. A parade snaked through the streets and people made their way to the river to launch their flower boats with candles and incence. It was beautiful. I was meant to meet up for a beer with one of the guys from the hiking trip, but it seems we missed each other and I was perfectly happy to spend the night wandering about by myself.
The events of the last few days have put me in a strange frame of mind. I look around me, and I'm astounded by how warm and welcoming the Thai people are. I had anticipated feeling some sort of resentment with the number of tourists passing through, but there doesn't seem to be any. I have been stopped in the street countless times by people just wanting to say hi and ask where I'm from, where I'm headed. They are happy to share tidbits about Thai culture and history. I witnessed a Muay Thai boxing match the other night where the boxers just kept smiling the whole way through. The Thai people are poor, for the most part- but there doesn't seem to be a trace of greed or jealousy at the amount of money that tourists are dropping without a thought. Though people may try to rip you off, there's the sense that it's not so much out of greed as it is a desire to take care of their family. They are perfectly happy living the way they do. They aren't envious of our fancy cameras, or international trips. They aren't waiting for validation from the west. The Thai people are well aware that they have a beautiful country. But I can't help but feel divided about being here. On the one hand, I'm glad to have experienced - although briefly, this very beautiful country. But on the other, I feel that Thai culture is being overrun by westerners and I would rather not be a part of it. I very much enjoyed my time up in the hills with the Karyn tribe- it was so refreshing to see people who were truly happy with what they had, and didn't want anymore. But I was disgusted when a couple of the people on our trip whipped out their cameras and marched into the centre of the village to take photos (we were put up just outside the village). The people seemed unbothered by it, but I was embarrased. Perhaps spending a year as a novelty has made me quite sensitive to it. Maybe it's just decency. AsI watched the parade snake through the streets of Chiang Mai and people stopped floats to take pictures, it just felt like too much. As the Thai people tried to celebrate their king, westerns paused their festivities for a few photos. As I walked by a temple, I saw people taking pictures of the monks- which to the Buddhist monks, as I recall is extremely offensive. They believe that it steals your soul. I remember reading an article for my Philosophy of Leisure class in which a Hawaiian woman begged tourists to stop coming because it was destroying Hawaiian culture. I can't help but wonder if this isn't also true of Thailand. I was warned about the beaches in South Thailand and glad that I opted out- I think it would have enraged me. So I leave Thailand stuck between really wanting to come back and experience more of this truly fascinating country, and feeling a little sick that it' s becoming an absolute playground for westerners.
Tomorrow I'm on to Laos-- very, very slowly. I board the slow boat down the Mekong River tomorrow morning and will arrive in Luang Prabang on Wenesday night. I might just go crazy.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Chiang Mai
I managed through the twelve hour bus ride from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. I arrived at 7am and was dropped at a gas station where we were piled into mini vans from different guest houses for the rest of the journey. I crawled into my double bed in my air-conditioned room after paying 6$ at the front desk. I spent the following day tearing around the city in an effort to see as many of the city's temples as possible. The city boasts over three hundred temples for it's 1 million people. I didn't even make a dent. I just came back from two days in the jungle hiking, bamboo rafting and elephant treking. Oh yes, and drinking with the hill tribes. Tomorrow I head to Chiang Rai (further North) - and then continue along into Laos by slow boat... which will take two excruatiating days. Time is up, I'll write a better post later!
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Bangkok- I was warned, but didn't believe...
Just a quick note- I got to Bangkok okay yesterday afternoon. This place is ridiculous. I was warned that I would immediately feel like a guichet (ATM) after debarking (is that a word in English?!?) the plane. And it's true. I quickly learned that instead of cutting the price by 20% when bartering like we do in Korea, 50% is perfectly acceptable and all it takes is an impulse to walk away and they've agreed to your price. I hired a tuk-tuk (taxi on three wheels) to take me to all the key places in the city. It cost me 40 baht (about 1$) for four hours, but amazingly he dissapeared after we stopped in at the jewelry center he insisted on taking me too (apparently he gets money from the government just for dropping me there). The next tuk-tuk I hired actually followed me for a few blocks when he finally agreed to my price. That was that- I found the Lucky Buddha- called so, I believe because the Burmese once cut off his golden head and tried to melt it, but it only blackened and didn't melt. Made my way to the Grand Palace and was totally overwhelmed. I hadn't expected it to be so beautiful. There's too many tourists here, so I'm booking it up to Chiang Mai (Northern Thailand) tonight. The train was full, so I'm stuck bussing up there- a miserable 12 hour bus ride... uggh. Gotta run, bus leaves in five minutes. A bientot!
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