Of all the animals that are depicted in Buddhist scenes at the many elaborate Temples in Thailand, I was struck with the absence of dogs…especially given their presence everywhere in Thailand. Street dogs are a distinct part of life in Thailand.
When I first started observing dogs everywhere, I was trying to determine if there were apparent owners.
On occasion, I encountered dogs wearing dirty t-shirts. I think this identified them as pets. Most of them are dirty, scraggy, and homeless.
Maybe that is a matter of perspective, though. In the same way that monks depend exclusively on “alms”, daily handouts placed in stainless steel bowls they carry with them everywhere, perhaps this is how the street dogs should be viewed. They are not abused. And I never ran into one that was aggressive to me in anyway (this was also true of monks). Perhaps dogs are simply considered to be “everyone’s responsibility” like the monks.
At the Prem School where Tanya’s daughter attends, I ran into an American woman who relocated to Thailand to open a golf school with her husband.
She is actively involved (started?) a charity to raise money to provide dog food to the local Wats (temples) to supplement the rice that Monk’s provide to street dogs. In addition, it is their goal to give as many street dogs as possible a full regimen of shots, and appropriate sterilization.
I saw very few cats in Thailand. Interestingly, even in the most impoverished areas both in the mountains and along the train tracks in Bangkok, what I DID see were lots of handcarved bird cages with colorful little finches in them.
The Thai’s LOVE the Royal Family…most say it’s a far greater obsession than the Brit’s have with their royal family. The story is quite compelling.
The king has been king for 60 years. He’s currently 84, so that means he became King shortly after graduating with a degree from Harvard Univ. The king’s face is on every denomination of currency. This would suggest that it will be an expensive transition someday when he passes.
There are huge pictures of the King, and to a lesser extent, the Queen, all over every city. Huge Gateways, like overpasses, carry his picture, as do many many shrines. He is in failing health, and there was some speculation that he might pass during my visit (no coincidence here).
Twon nights ago, I was standing atop the highest building in Bangkok, on the 78th floor. On the expressway below, traffic was stopped, and about a 1 mile stretch was completely empty…until an entourage of about 8 cars, with lights flashing, appeared. It was the Royal family, or at least a subset of it.
I learned that the Royal family is generally seen at night. They sleep during the day, because they are out so late…Not because they are party animals. Rather, it has been the Royal families tradition to “no sleep until their country has gone to bed”. It is the ultimate act of respect, a value that pulses through all of Thailand. This kind of commitment to the people of Thailand is one reason they are revered.
Though the King plays the same role as the UK’s Queen, the impact of the royal family is huge. Most any project that is of great consequence to the country is sponsored as a Royal project. Royal projects work. About 10 years ago, a Royal project was to go out into the poorer provinces and dig small ponds for tribal communities so that they could grow fish…as and example.
The successor to the King is up in the air. There is 1 son and 3 daughters. The son is not popular at all. One daughter stepped down from her royal standing years ago in order to pursue a career as an actress. She is now in her 60’s. Another daughter is Harvard educated, an MD. One of the 4 children died, but I can’t remember which one.
On my last day in Thailand, I visited the National Museum, which would be equivalent, in purpose, to our Smithsonian. IT is a series of poorly maintained, un-air conditioned Wat Temple buildings with salvaged items from 10 – 15 centuries ago. It is a Royal project to engage the people of Thailand in the preservation of their arts and culture. On the day that I visited. I was probably one of 10 visitors at the multi-building museum.
There are many answers to this question….some were answers I myself was unaware of when I started planning this trip.
The easiest answer is this….I’m in Thailand because I was invited to come by a close, albeit distant, friend of mine from EckerdCollege, Tim Johnson.
Earlier this year, as I was fretting about the impact on my business of the economic downturn, I got an email from Tim letting me know that he was planning a 6 month sabbatical in Thailand. He sold a book idea to a publisher, and received a tidy little sum as front money to write it. Tim’s book deals with the fate of Tibet in a post-Dalai Lama world. Tim has met with the Dalai Lama, and has traveled with his entourage for about 3 months.
In addition, he has lived in Beijing for the last 6 years, where he is the lead report for the McClatchy news service. (McClatchy is the 3rd largest US newspaper company. They own the Raleigh and Charlotte papers among many others.) Tim’s primary reason for relocating to Thailand was that he needed a safe haven for writing something that could be viewed as even remotely “critical” of China. Tim is a pretty high visibility correspondent in China, and Tim has had to take a lot of precautions to arrange for backups of all of his research and files on servers all over the world, with no access by the Chinese government. Seems “big brother” is alive and well in China.
Tim’s wife, Tanya, was born in Nicaragua and went to college in Russia. She is a colorful, extraverted Katherine Zeta Jones-ish woman who owns any room she walks in to. Her field is PR. Immediately before I arrived, Tanya was traveling for 2 weeks herself as she was taking a tour group of Chinese business people to Mexico. Tanya, like my wife Allison, lives to dance, and she’d rather dance than probably most anything else. She’s an outstanding cook, and she and I had a GREAT time doing a Thai cooking class together (she’d already done 2 others). She has deliberately spoken Spanish in her household since her babies were born specifically so they have Spanish AND English as native tongues. Daughter Sophia frequently lapses into Spanish when calling her parents as it gives her an element of privacy in whatever setting she is in.
Tim and Tanya have two very talented daughters. Their oldest, Michelle, is from Tanya’s first husband, but has lived with Tim and Tanya since she was about 6. She also maintains a close relationship with her Nicaraguan father. Michelle is a freshman this year at Wellesley college in Boston. I saw pictures of her. She is a charming, petite international young lady who could probably pass as a native most places in the world, both due to appearance and accent. She has black, or dark brown hair cut in a Chinese bob. I could easily mistake her for being Chinese, Thai, Hispanic, or American. I didn’t get to meet Michelle.
Who I DID get to meet was Sophia, age 12. I usurped her bedroom, which didn’t matter too much because she seems to rarely be at home. She catches the bus to her school, a 30 – 45 minute trek, at 7:10 am daily, and gets home about 6 pm…unless she is spending the night with any number of friends. Sophia has, in her short 12 years, lived in China, Thailand, the US, and Nicaragua. She is fluent in English, Chinese, and Spanish, and speaks all with a native tongue. She’s quickly learning Thai, both spoken and written, and I assume her skills will exceed those of her Dad’s shortly. Sophia is very soft spoken, smiles constantly, and she is naturally attuned to technology. Tim and Tanya asked if I might help her with a powerpoint presentation she was to develop discussing the evolution of the art movement of her choice. She chose Op Art (are you kidding me, and this is 7th grade?!). As I attempted to help her, I quickly became aware that she needed no help at all. Her comfort with Technology is such that she quickly figured out Powerpoint on her own, and her capabilities far exceed those of her parents!
Its Monday, and I’m on the last 3 days of my journey. Today I said good-bye to Tim, Tanya and Sophia, the family that made this adventure possible. At 6 pm, I boarded the train. I’m traveling 2nd class and will have an overhead berth. As I write, its is 7:30 pm.
For the first time since arriving in Thailand, I am completely surrounded by people speaking every language BUT English. The 3 berths across and adjoining mine are full of French speakers. Behind me are Germans. A little further down, a contingent of Japanese or Koreans are clicking happily away.
Though I’ve now been on the train for over an hour, no one has bothered to give me an orientation to the train, or to the ground rules. I’m noticing that a whole bunch of people, not me, have been given boxed lunches that include a fried chicken leg, some fruit and cookies. If this was an oversight, I’m hardly disappointed. I do wonder if this was an option to purchase at the time of the ticket, OR If there was a place that everyone frequents to buy a box lunch and bring aboard. I suspect that is the case. I think I was offered a beer for $4 by a very hurried female porter, but the offer was kind of a glancing blow sent in my direction, but aimed more directly at the French people.
I’m sitting on a comfortable bench-style seat that could seat 2. Its facing another similar bench seat, with an adequate, removable table in between. I’ve been blessed with having NO seat mate…which is a bit befuddling because when I bought my ticket, I was told there were no bottom berths. If I’ve got the top bunk, I’m wondering who gets the bottom one? I’m told that around 9 pm, the staff will come around and remove the table, fold the two seats down into a lower berth the size of a full size mattress. Then, MY upper berth, the size of a twin bed, will fold down. I’ve just wandered the train and noticed that one family has already folded their berth down and the Japanese daddy and little boy are sitting crosslegged on their bed behind a curtain, like they are hiding out in a first class secret snoopy hiding place.
My friend, Marcia, an expert on all things Thai, told me to make sure to visit some of the 3rd class cabins. Frankly, its hard for me to differentiate the first from 2nd class ones to my taste, and I walked down 5 cars without ever finding the car I expected with people sitting on stools, holding their chickens and smoking opium. Perhaps I walked in the wrong direction. I dare not ask anyone for information, as I’m finding the porters to be a bit busy and unresponsive, and not exactly the most English friendly people I’ve met.
My first challenge when boarding the train was stowing my bag. Though it would fit in the overhead bin of any American Airline, it would NOT fit under the seat as required. When I motioned to a female steward, wondering if there was an alternative to stowing larger baggage, she simply said in broken English…under seat. She then turned and walked away. I unpacked half of my bag in order to make it fit. I now have under my seat, 1 suitcase, 2 pairs of shoes, several bags of souvenir gifts, and a small bag of toiletries. I had intended to pack a rooster, but forgot it in the rush of last minute packing.
The Thai countryside looks just like what I would imagine Mississippi, Montana, or Nebraska might look like after sundown….Its basically pitch black…Hmm, could also be similar to a NY City subway during a blackout I guess.
Well my porter (is that what you call a train stewardess) just walked by and asked me the following question, without actually stopping. “ewe bef nlye?” I have no idea what I’ve just declined, but I did so politely. As the evening goes, I may start nodding my head enthusiastically and reply, “Why Yes! My fwee don neckting”. I’m guessing I’ll get a bowl of chicken toe soup. Stay tuned.
Whoo hoo, its now 7:40 and a couple of the Germans have opened the upper berth. The mattress looks pretty spartan. I’m thinking I’ll defer bed time for as long as possible.
Coming up next…..think I’ll visit the toilet, just to see if they stock toilet paper. Every toilet in Asia comes complete with one of those little pistol gripped water hoses that we Westerners generally reserve for the kitchen sink. It will be hard for me to look at my kitchen sink hose again.
Just back from toilet. Had toilet paper, but no toilet. Simply a hole in the bottom of the train car such that your deposits are made directly on the train tracks below. Fortunately, there are handles at all the right places bolted to the walls, no doubt for desperate Americans like me that cannot squat without caroming off the walls.
Back from toilet…..Oh great (embarrassed sigh) ….now I think one of the French ladies is making eyes at me. This could get awkward before the night is over…………… (3 minutes latere) False alarm. She wasn’t making eyes at me. She was trying to get my attention to see if I would turn off the ceiling fan that I control with the switch in my berth. Dag…
Hey, cool, we just went by a house right next to the railroad. I was able to watch TV for about 1 second. Now…its back to black darkness.
Just got back from exploring the train. Found a dining car and got a bowl of soup, some pad thai, and something with duck. Not nearly as expertly prepared as in the market place.
As friend Marcia suggested, I walked the entire length of the train looking to compare my 2nd class accommodations with 1st and 3rd class. So far, the only 1st class evidence I can find is maybe he larger lower birth, and perhaps boxed dinners? This does not appear to me to be 1st class though. Further, I can’t locate a 3rd class at all.
I’ve found very few Thais on this train. Mostly Europeans. 2 cars down from mine, I found myself trying to walk down the aisle of a car of 70 year old, rowdy French senior citizens. Their berths were all fully turned down into beds, but since the night was young, they were all standing in the narrow aisle chattering away in not so elegant French. I was able to actually make out bits and pieces of the conversation from my 3 years of French training 30 years ago. My dramatic moment came when I encountered a very rowdy, animated 70 year old French woman holding c ourt in the middle of the train. I was needing to pass by her, and she was loudly entertaining about 5-6 other seniors in very close proximity. Suddenly, her eyes caught mine, and before I could complete my “excusez moi s’il vous plait” she grabs me, and pulls me toward her lower berth. Simultaneously, she is announcing in French what I clearly make out to be “no no monsieur, you may NOT get into my bed with me. (much French laughter then ensued…in character, I then apologized profusely with pardonnez moi, Mademoiselle, vous etes tres jolie. (I believe this was the first phrase I learned in 9th grade….shortly thereafter we learned vous etes bete and tu es stupide)
(several days later)….The rest of the train trip proceeded relatively event free. My berth was hard and stuffy, but I found that if you strip down to your bare essentials (behind the security of your shower curtain, you can toss and turn in fits of sleepfulness quite nicely.
On to Bangkok…
One motive I had for coming to Thailand was to experience a culture as fundamentally different in underlying mindset as my own. For 30 years, Thailand has evolved into a country dependant on, or at least thriving on tourism. As a consequence, Western influence has left its mark….Critical road signs are in both Thai and English, a Burger King and a McDonald’s co-exist side by side in the downtown market of Chiang Mai, forks and spoons are assumed as the preferred utensil at most all eating establishments.
However, the Thai culture is rooted in its Buddhist tradition, and its influence is far more evident in daily life than Christianity is in the West:
· Every home and business location always has a small, but elaborate “spirit temple” or shrine located in a consistent corner of the property (perhaps the northwest location?) Employees visit the shrine at least weekly and place on it such delicacies as food items, Orange Fanta complete with straw (someone please tell me the Buddhist roots of Orange Fanta!!), incense, etc.
· Early every morning, the streets near any given Wat (temple) will be loaded with orange-robed, barefoot monks carrying a large, stainless steel bowl. Monks I’ve seen ranged in age from 7 to 70. It is an honor to spend a portion of one’s life as a monk, and young men, and even young boys find themselves dedicating themselves at some point. Monks collect gifts / alms from the townspeople every morning in the form of food, money, etc. In return, the donation makers receive blessings.
I think the communities take full responsibility for feeding and supporting the monks. They are clearly beloved. The monks, in turn, care for hundreds of stray dogs, feeding them rice, and coordinating with local non profit groups who attempt to raise money to ensure street dogs receive shots and sterilization. While in Chiang Mai, I saw more female dogs with extended breasts, clearly having just given birth to a new litter of strays.
· On several occasions this week, I’ve ridden in company vehicles (for a cooking class, the Gibbon experience, etc) and every vehicle has on the wind shield and the ceiling of the car, 5-6 little white smudges…they look like white paint thumbprints…which are evidence that the automobile has been blessed.
· I interviewed the Managing Director of a jewelry manufacturing company who was an Expatriate from England. He noted that when they built their operation, they had to locate and consult with a spiritual advisor in Southern Thailand to determine the location, orientation and size of the “spirit house” that would need to be assembled on the property. In order to provide adequate counsel she had to have very detailed information about the plant, such as the number of people employed there, the size of the plant, estimated annual sales, etc.
· Once the plant and spirit house were constructed at the site above, a special ceremony was then required. Mark, the Managing Director was first seated at the front of the largest room in the plant and a string was tied around his head. That string was then wound around every person at the ceremony and the remaining end of the string was then given to Mark to hold. He was required to sit in this fashion for the ensuing hour of chanting, dancing and praying, with everyone in the room, save the monks, tied to his forehead.
My first weekend in Chiang Mai, my friends Tim and Tanya were invited to attend a “housewarming” for the parents of one of their daughter’s classmates. The mother had been the well educated daughter of a wealthy Thai family, and the father was the retired Country Manager for Eli Lilly pharmaceuticals. (He was a widower when they met about 10 years ago…his then 7 year old daughter decided that he needed to stop grieving and start seeing other women. The 7 year old spotted the Thai woman at a social gathering (she was a hotel manager at the time) and she marched right up to her, asked if she was married, and if not, would she like to meet her father…..the rest is history. Anyway, this housewarming turned out to be the blessing of one of the most fantastic teak mansions Ive ever seen. Both of its 2 floors have 20 foot ceilings. IN the center of the house is an arboretum that is larger than the largest living room in any house I know. I’m guessing it was 20 feet by 30 feet, was full of living plants, and had a waterfall and babbling brook running the length of it. As I nosed around the house, I discovered a large tatami matted Japanese room upstairs with an adjoining room housing a fireplace. This would become the master bedroom suite, but today, it only had a row of red vinyl seats on the floor with seat backs…7 seats side by side. Turns out, monks had been here all day long chanting and blessing the house.
Outside, there was a white string that encircled the entire house and then extended to a little pergola in the backyard. This string will ultimately be taken down and stored in some very visible place of honor in the house. The party was outside in the beautifully manicured back yard. There was an open bar and a huge spread of traditional, but as-yet-untried-by-me Thai food including the national soup, several curries, and numerous other interesting dishes too numerous and fabulous to describe. Suffice it to say….you should have been there.
