Don't ask me what's going on

To be honest, I'm so engrossed in my PGCE that I haven't had time to follow the news. Was amazed to see this BBC clip (thanks James) which is the road outside our house. We had heard a bit of a commotion, but hadn't realised that people were shooting at each other. Sometimes it's best not to know, I guess.

Teaching is Tough

It's been a while I know... but this teaching lark sure takes up your time. I'm in the middle of my first "teaching practice" block of my PGCE. And I really don't have much time to spare. Still, there's always the holidays to look forward to, and for teachers, the next one is never that far away...

Family Fortunes

Following the ousting of Samak over his TV cookery, parliament today chose a new Prime Minister. Now given that the main gripe of the PAD protestors (still occupying Government House) is that the government was a puppet for Thaksin (currently hiding out in the UK to evade his corruption trial), you'd have thought they might take this opportunity to distance themselves from such allegations. So who have they chosen as PM? None other than Thaksin's brother-in-law. That'll certainly help to bring peace and reconcilliation to the country, eh?

Too Many Cooks...

Thai politics trawls even deeper levels of inanity as the Constitutional Court sacks the Prime Minister - for the apparently unconstitutional act of appearing on a TV cookery show. Given the guy has a track record for Tiananmen Square-style massacres of his own people (see 6 Oct 1976), it seems somewhat ironic to be impeached for such a trivial offence. Still, it got cheers from the crowds who've been occupying his offices for the last few weeks. And what exactly are they doing there? The more you hear their demands, the more you wonder. They style themselves the 'People's Alliance for Democracy', but their manifesto is decidedly undemocratic: 'Western democracy can't work in Thailand, as voters can be bought - the only way is for us to decide on the people's behalf.'

Here We Go Again...

Looks like things are going downhill again on the political front, although nobody here is particularly surprised. Once again, the army is moving on to the streets, but in an interesting twist, this time it's at the request of Samak, whose puppetmaster is the very guy the military coup deposed last time. Needless to say, with a State of Emergency having been declared, media restrictions have been imposed, and I don't have direct access to my blog. Thanks again to Brian for providing the censorship workaround.

Dr Wilson I presume...

Working the fans

So after 2 weeks in this country, one thing has become very apparent. It turns out that Dad is the most famous man in Tanzania. I'm not exaggerating. Literally every place we go, someone rushes up to greet him. It happens everywhere - on the beach in Zanzibar, in the hills of Morogoro, in a grimy bar in Bagamoyo, on the streets of Stonetown. At the airport, he is greeted by a friend in the check-in queue, a further acquaintance in the security line, and then several others in the departure lounge itself. In a two-hour stroll through downtown Dar, we meet everyone from government ministers and professors to street boys and waiters. The cry of "Hello Graham" is everywhere. It's my first real taste of celebrity.

Ferrero Rocher, sir?

Tiffin is served

We head to the magical island of Zanzibar, where through Dad's connections, we get to stay in none other than the British High Commissioner's official residence. Happily, the man himself is elsewhere, so we get the full run of the house, its staff, and the stunning views from its clifftop perch. Whilst I find the portrait of the queen above our bed slightly disturbing, the fact that we are driven around the island in the official Land Rover complete with the little flagpole on the front more than makes up for it.

Visiting the Old Dears

A freak, ah?

We head off to Africa for the rest of the summer. A couple of weeks in Tanzania, and then Kenya. Initial impressions are that East Africa is remarkably chilly and surprisingly pricey. I've clearly been in Thailand too long.

House-sitting in the Countryside

Small place in the country

We luck up big time (as I think Americans say) when Rob and Sarah decamp with their family to Vietnam for 3 weeks, and require us to house-sit for them whilst they're away. OK, we do have the minor hassle of looking after their menagerie of dogs, buffaloes, rabbits and tortoises, but the beauty of the location more than makes up for it. We're 20km outside Chiang Mai, in an idyllic rural setting, which we've been able to fully explore thanks to the car, 4WD truck, ATVs, bikes and wellies that Rob kindly left for us. All around is classic Thai countryside; farmers in bamboo hats tilling their paddy fields (no doubt cheered on by the skyrocketing export value of Thai rice), buffalo stubbornly being put to the plough (they were outdated, but now petrol prices have made the tractor unfashionable), and a plethora of churches springing up in every village (churches? surely you mean wats? no - churches - there's loads of them. American missionaries must have been real busy up here)

Teaching the Natives how to Speak

Long story, but I've decided to transform myself into a fully qualified Physics teacher, and the metamorphosis has begun. First stage was getting a CELTA qualification, which is Cambridge Uni's teaching-English-to-Johnny-foreigner course. This will allow me to work as a teacher in Thailand as I study towards my PGCE (a 9-month course starting in August). The CELTA is infamous as being a tough course, and sure enough it turned out to be so, with relentless 12-hour days for a month. Apparently just repeating English phrases at an ever-increasing volume until they are understood just doesn't cut it in the teaching world anymore.
That was the reason for the temporary hiatus in blogging. But full service is now resumed...

Songkran Festivities

Ready for War

It's fair to say that we manage to make the most of the 3-day national waterfight. Starting off in the popular Khao San Road area, we arm ourselves with ice-filled supersoakers and join the tens of thousands of locals and tourists 'blessing' each other with the gifts of water and flour. In the evening, having dried off, we head to a local music restaurant for some Thai food and Thai pop, unsure of the etiquette. But sure enough, by 10pm, all 200 customers have lost interest in either the band or the food, and we spend the night emptying buckets of water over each other. Hilarious.

Swamp Boxing

But the highpoint comes when we all visit Muang Boran, a Thai cultural park which throws a Songkran festival each year. Being the only white faces, we're suddenly centre of attention as we wander past the swamp boxing arena. The compere grabs me for an interview and the crowd are amused by my adopted Thai name. Before we know it, Jules and I are locked in mortal combat balanced on a pole 10 foot above the swamp, being cheered on by a few hundred spectators. The aim is to box your opponent into the swamp, but being untrained in Thai martial arts we put on a somewhat unspectacular display of flailing limbs before simultaneously falling off, much to the crowd's amusement.

A surprise visitor

Out of the blue, Julius rocks up in Thailand for a week's holiday week's work for Nortel. Leaving the in-laws to continue their island getaway, I jump on a boat, and manage to catch Jules at Bangkok airport, where he's just got in from a meeting in China

The Outlaws Arrive

Classy Arrival

As Brian leaves, Phil and Steph rock up from Canada for a 2½ week stay. We haven't seen them in over 3 years, and it's great to catch up. Since this is the hottest time of year, first port of call is the beach. Off to Koh Samed we go.

Big Brother

Brian in Action

Brian visits for a week en route to Australia. We opt to escape the heat of Bangkok and fly up to the Golden Triangle to buzz around on motorbikes. Emboldened by his new GPS-capable phone, Brian insists we leave the road network behind and head off into the jungle. Unfortunately, the Nokia software doesn't actually indicate national borders, and we get a bit nervous when we stumble across a camp that is clearly not flying the Thai flag. Back on the established road, we see that the border is occasionally marked with small plaques, but other than that, there's no real impediment to crossing this famously porous border.
Undeterred by our brush with the Burmese, Brian then gets waylaid by some North Korean escapees who have floated down the Mekong and pitched up in Thailand. The locals refuse to help, fearing arrest, so somehow we get involved in smuggling 2 of them on the back of our bikes through to Chiang Rai. Makes the police checkpoints even more nerve-racking than usual.

Chiang Mai

Afternoon Tea

It's my birthday, and also half term, so we go up to Chiang Mai for a few days. Hiring a jeep allows us to have some interesting off-road experiences, and we also treat ourselves to a few nice places to stay. Then it's off to see Rob & Sarah's new house, which is coming along well. With the 3 kids, 2 buffalo, 4 dogs, and 20 on-site builders, there's an engaging level of chaos to their lives.

Reading the Small Print

Like everyone else, I never bother to read the ridiculously lengthy 'End User Licence Agreement' that you have to 'Accept' every time you install a bit of software. But feeling vaguely bored today, I did scroll down the agreement that popped up when iTunes asked to update itself. It turns out I'm specifically banned from using iTunes for "the development, design, manufacture or production of missiles, or nuclear, chemical or biological weapons". Now I personally feel that some of Sara's music would classify as an offensive weapon (e.g. anything by Sade or Gabrielle), but it seems a big step between that and a full-blown biological weapons programme.

Down on the Farm

Guest Room

The parents of one of Sara's pupils kindly take us out to their farm for the weekend. Just 3 hours from Bangkok, but a complete world away; dirt tracks with no vehicles, clean air filled with birdsong, no development spoiling the beautiful views across jungle-clad hills; no lights to spoil a beautiful starscape at night. It's easy to forget when you stick to Bangkok and the tourist trail that much of Thailand is like this. Curiously, the shelf in the farm's guest bedroom holds 2 objects; a pink cartoon elephant and a .38 Smith & Wesson.

Stars in Their Eyes

Fiddy Baht

Ali turns 50 and hosts a Stars in Their Eyes party. I'm always a huge fan of fancy-dress parties, and it's a great night. My transformation into rapper Fiddy Baht isn't a complete success; I try and be as misogynistic, homophobic, materialistic and violent as I can, but I don't think anybody's convinced.

Full of Eastern Promise

On the Road

Emboldened by our gradually improving stumblings in Thai, we decide to explore the less-touristed North Eastern region of the country. Hiring a car and following our noses, we initially get distracted by the wine region around Khao Yai for a few days, delighting in the hilly scenery, fresh air, and vineyard tours. Venturing further East, we discover Angkor-era temples and fortresses, go for a trek in the jungle, and dodge the Khmer Rouge minefields along the Cambodian border.

The New Black

I do like to keep you abreast of the latest sartorial trends on the streets of Bangkok. Following on from the long-term yellow phenomenon, and the more recent explosion of pink, this season's colour is very much black, following the death of the King's elder sister last week. As a teacher, Sara is restricted to wearing only black or white garments for the 3-week mourning period.

Happy Christmas!

Happy Christmas

Christmas Bangkok-style; enjoying roast turkey in the garden with Andy & Sarah & family. No imminent signs of snow.

Useful People to Know

Nice Place

The parents of one of the kids in Sara's class insist that we come down to their holiday home at Jomtien Yacht Club. It's definitely a case of how the other half live. I mean, this guy's got a cinema in the house, and a $100k+ stereo that makes even Giles's look like a ghetto blaster. Luckily, they're also very generous, down-to-earth people, and I really enjoy getting to know them and learning from their insights from the top of Thai society.

A Sober Recollection

A curious aspect of Thai elections is that all alcohol is banned over the 2-3 day period surrounding the vote. Bangkok's normally buzzing nightlife hotspots are deserted, save for a few confused tourists forlornly searching for a drink. It's amazing how important a beer becomes when you can't find one.
According to a Thai friend, the rationale behind it all is to stop party candidates throwing big free-beer parties and then bussing the amenably tipsy voters off to the polling stations. The Labour Party's focus groups should take note.

Déjà Coup

The results are coming in from the general election here. As most people expected, the party allied with Thaksin, the chap the army deposed last year, has won the most seats (after all, he was always a majority-elected leader). With various PPP candidates openly calling for Thaksin's return in the New Year, one can't help feeling that history is repeating itself. In Thailand's turbulent political history, all governments bar one have failed to complete their 4-year term. I've yet to hear anyone dare to suggest this one will be any different.

Happy Birthday King

The entire country takes the day off to celebrate his majesty's 80th birthday. Unlike the West, where decade birthdays have significance, Thai's don't generally consider your 30th, 40th, etc to be special. What is important here is every 12th birthday; once you've reaced your 24th, 36th, 48th..., you've completed a full 'cycle' through the 12 zodiac animals. (thus this February will be a biggie for me). However, someone spotted that 80 was the age at which Buddha passed into nirvana, so that's been taken as an excuse to go large on the celebration front.
Obviously, pretty much everybody is wearing their yellow polo shirts in honour of the King, but in an interesting twist, there's a few people starting a counter-trend by donning pink polo shirts. This new look has been inspired by the King's recent departure from hospital in which he was seen dressed in a bright pink suit, on the advice of his official astrologers who said wearing pink would improve his health.

Young as You Feel

Jackfruit

We're delighted to have Donald & Clare staying with us as part of their Laos Adventure. I can't believe it's nearly 20 years since we started Uni. But in our minds, we're still young, and on a Bangkok Friday night we set out to party like it's 1988. I'm pleased to report that we made it through till 3am. Best not to ask Don what happened to his breakfast though.

Well That Floats My Boat

Yesterday was Loi Kratong Day. For those unfamiliar with Thai custom, it's the day when everyone makes little boats topped with candles, incense and sparklers, and then goes and floats them on any available water source. Ironically, this ceremony, in which the lakes and canals of Bangkok fill with millions of pieces of floating detritus, is intended to give thanks for clean water and apologise for the pollution we cause. Trying to do our bit for the environment, Sara and I purchase ready-made biodegradable kratongs cunningly made out of bread. Now custom dictates that young couples should float their kratongs together; if they float off side by side, the couple are destined to be as one, whilst if they drift apart, things aren't looking so good. (I hear that cheating, through the hidden use of string, is not unheard of). We push ours off into the lake, and immediately Sara's is mauled by hungry fish, who sink it within seconds. Meanwhile mine has caught the interest a fast-moving predator, and I watch it zip randomly across the lake before also meeting an early demise. Our Thai friends are unable (or unwilling) to explain the possible omen.

I Wasn't Born Yesterday...

Zaki Featherstone

What's it with all these babies everywhere? I'm becoming alarmingly familiar with Samitivej Hospital's Baby Unit. But congrats to Andy and Sarah on this new addition to the human race, Zaki, born yesterday evening. See how confident I look these days...

Moved!

A hectic day, as we've moved house. OK, we've only moved next door, but you've still got to shift everything. And it's amazing the amount of stuff you can amass in 2 years. In retrospect, I must admit that having a house-leaving party the night before actually having to move everything was possibly not the wisest idea. But special mention to Simon for shrugging off a hangover and returning to help us move.

Go Go Granny

Just got a letter from Granny, in which she filled me in on her 91st birthday activities. Amused to hear that she celebrated by going go-karting with some friends! And having been a passenger in her souped-up Fiesta in the past, I can only presume that she would have been a mean competitor. She did say that she won a trophy, but modestly claimed is was for being the oldest ever racer they'd had at the track, rather than for her undoubted rally-driving skills.

It's a Little Bit Funny, This Feeling Inside...

Last week I popped into our local supermarket, and was amused to hear that for some reason, Elton John's "Your Song" was stuck on a repetitive loop. Actually, the joke soon wore thin, and after 15 minutes, I had to abandon my shopping as it was already beginning to grate. So imagine my shock, on returning to the supermarket today, to find that the PA system was still blaring out Mr John's schmaltzy hit. That's a whole week! And it's a 24-hour supermarket! I wasn't sure what to do - call the police? I mean, the poor staff; surely this classifies as 'cruel and unusual punishment' in the extreme.

Honestly

If you read the Lonely Planet guidebook, which is always a debatable practice, it warns of one classic scam which involves tourists asking a tuk-tuk driver to go to the Grand Palace, at which point he tells them that it is "closed", and ferries them to his brother's jewelry shop. Yesterday, our intrepid visitors Nikki and Mark headed off to the Grand Palace, only to be told by a nice young man at the river ferry pier that it was closed today. They phoned me up, and I said, oh no, I've read about these scams, he'll be lying. So taking my wise advice, they take the ferry up the river and trek all the way up to the Palace gates.
Needless to say, it's closed for the day for a special festival.

Essex People

We're delighted to have Nikki and Mark visit on their trip round Thailand. Having been warned by friends that Bangkok was dirty, hot and smelly, we opt to take them on an alternative tour, boating along pretty canals past coconut plantations and orchid farms. In a city this big, everything is on offer.
I'm intrigued to find out that they have some impressive family connections out this way, in that Nikki's cousin is Tony Fernandes, the owner of AirAsia and SE Asia's answer to Richard Branson.

Who's Reading This Drivel?

You can get these counters which show you who's been reading your blog, and why. Inevitably, a lot of people get here through google searches, and it's always amusing to see what they were actually looking for. A particular favourite seems to be people interested in a certain classic '70s ladies drink. Googling Babyshams inexpicably puts me at number 3.

The Daily Commute

My Thai lessons are in town; each morning I join the millions of commuters heading into Bangkok. There's a choice of transportation options, each allowing me to join a different stratum of Bangkok society. Cheapest and most entertaining are the government buses; with no aircon and guaranteed to be packed absolutely solid, these offer a lively morning workout just in the process of staying on one's feet. The more aspiring will splash out a few extra baht on an aircon bus; just as packed, but as well as keeping you comfortable, the cool air means the driver isn't so hot-tempered on the brake pedal. The middle classes will board a minibus, with the promise of a seat, speedier travel and personalised drop-offs. Of course, there's always the taxi option, but at £1, that's 10 times the cost of the bus with none of the entertainment.
So generally I'm to be found on the bus, enjoying the contrasts of cruising down a 26-lane superhighway whilst watching saffron-robed monks wander the pavements performing their age-old morning alms rounds.
The quickest route into town involves a change on to the skytrain, which speeds you above the hectic streets in chilled comfort. There's also the ultramodern underground, for those looking for a cool trip. And I am talking about the temperature; whilst London abandons efforts to cool its underground, the Bangkok version is chilled to the point that you worry about ice on the line. And mobile phones seem to work down there too. Smart.

Where's that Runner Bean?

So would you believe that Sara and I signed up for the Bangkok Midnight Run? We've been in training for a while now, and the big night is next week. It sounds quite cool in that they close off the centre of Bangkok, and several thousand people hare round (or tortoise round as the case may be) the streets at midnight. The idea behind the timing is that it's cooler, but unfortunately only by a couple of degrees or so. And let me tell you that running in Bangkok is a pretty messy affair. It's difficult to conceive of the amount of sweat the human body is capable of producing. After a few miles, I generally lose the ability to see due to the stream of salt. And after 4 miles, my shoes simply slide off.
Today we went running in Lumpini Park, Bangkok's take on Hyde Park and a popular jogging spot at dusk. I'm always amused by the bizarre spectacle of hundreds of runners frozen in unison for a minute at 6pm as the National Anthem is played.

Takes One

It's all a bit tragic to see events unwind in Burma. I see that Thailand's PM has been speaking out at the UN of his grave concern at the junta's abuse of power over the border. Although I can't help feeling that what with Thailand still being under martial law, and him being an army General, it must undermine his scramble up the moral high ground somewhat.

An Outdated Rite

At school, we're mastering the reading and writing of Thai. And what I'm finding is that as well as the 80-odd letters and confusing tone rules, it's the physical act of writing that is causing me to struggle. Having worked in the technology industry for 15 years, I've had no real use for pen and paper, and I seem to have lost the ability to write in English, let alone Thai. Makes me wonder if I should just learn to type in Thai instead; perhaps the skill of handwriting is one not worth acquiring these days.
One positive aspect of all this is that I've got to play around with the latest in pencil and eraser technology. We're required to use pencils at school, due to the inevitability of mistakes. I have to go back to Primary School (30 years, arghh) to remember the last time I used one in anger. And things have definitely moved on; these funky clicky pencils have rendered the sharpener industry redundant, whilst the cutting-edge polymer erasers are truly a joy to use; no smudging and none of that pesky eraser dust getting everywhere.
(PS in terms of eraser/rubber terminology, I find the former avoids embarrassing confusion, what with the preponderance of US-English here)

East is East

My daily battle with the Thai tongue continues at language school. Thoroughly enjoying it, though. Currently, all my fellow students are Asian, and getting to know people has provided an eye-opening insight into both the surprising differences and life-affirming similarities between East and West. Above all, humour stands out as a common bonding trait. Despite, or perhaps thanks to, our lack of a common language, I spend a lot of the lessons in tears.
Meanwhile, I was thinking that my ability to discern the country of origin of Asians must surely be improving, but in an internet test, I'm disappointed to report I'm little better than average...

An Inconvenient Time

Some of our Thai neighbours are moving to a new house round the corner. As with all major life events here, the exact timing is of utmost importance. It's not simply a case of moving in when it's convenient for you; monks and astrologers will have been consulted months before to pinpoint the most auspicious time and date. Hence the oddities such as the 5am wedding we went to a few months back. And you hear of worse; my Thai teacher had to get married at 3am. Meanwhile, access to private medicine is allowing wealthy Thais to pinpoint that most unpredictable of human events down to the precise auspicious minute; the popularity of Caesarean births is rocketing.
Luckily, the stars indicate that our neighbours should move house at the not-too inconvenient time of 10pm. At that precise hour, we are called on to wish them on their way.

The Return

Ok, Ok, I know it's been a while, but I'm back...
Spending a month in and around the UK, it didn't seem appropriate to update the 'Bangkok' Blog, and anyway, I was just too darn busy catching up with all you fantastic friends and family. Seriously, it was great to see people again; 2 years is a fair old time, but it was superb to be able to slip back into friendships so easily.
Oh, and the other excuses for my slack return to my PC include Alison's visit (great to have you over!) and Google's strange decision to force blogger.com to speak only Thai to me. OK, I know I'm meant to be able to speak the language, but reading it is another matter. Turns out Google forces language selection based on your ISP, and changing it required a lengthy translation process of their various menus. Still, at least my Thai reading has improved...

Homing In

Sara's summer holiday approaches and so does our trip to the UK. I update myself on some UK news and see that Blair has finally been dragged away, and that there's been unseasonable rains, with 50mm falling in a day over Sheffield. Funnily enough, we happen to having a minor shower here. I check a local online weather station and see that 63mm of rain has fallen in the last hour.

Talking Shop

So what have I been up to since my work came to an end? Learning Thai, that's what. In an effort to crack this tricky language, I've been attending school. Being back in the classroom after so many years is a bit of a weird one, but I'm really enjoying it. My fellow students are Korean, Taiwanese and Mexican. Nice bunch.

And We're Back

Political crisis averted, and trouble avoided, thanks to the junta's decision to mobilise 13,000 troops and issue an order threatening to arrest any elephants attempting to come in to the city centre. And happily, blog sites have been reinstated.

The Clampdown

Following on from blocking YouTube a few weeks ago, the Thai government has now blocked all blog sites. I can no longer access my own blog, unless I do it from abroad (thanks Brian!). Word on the streets is of another coup on Wednesday. Darn.

The Natives are Friendly

Some things about Japan matched my preconceptions; the trains run to the second, the food resembles a work of modern art, and the red/green crossing man is universally obeyed. What I wasn't expecting was the sheer friendliness of the people of Kyushu. As well as the unfailing politeness, which the stereotype suggests, we experienced a lot of warmth and friendship on our travels. From the strangers in the villages who insisted we try their food, to the students in the city keen to teach us Japanese drinking games. From the elderly Nagasaki woman randomly welcoming us to her city to the kind driver who picked up two bedraggled hitch-hikers and utilised his satellite navigation to drop us exactly where we wanted. Lovely people.

Bullet Train

Shinkansen

I remember always wanting to go on one of these as a kid.

A Crater Too Far

Don't go down there

We strike out into the wilderness, attacking the Kirishima volcano chain. On paper, it looks like we can traverse the mountains in a day, reaching a village on the other side in good time for tea and medals. However, the lure of descending into one of the craters is too strong, and we leave the path to pick our way through the bamboo jungle. What looks easy from afar turns out to be ridiculously tough going; at points, we're forced to swing between trees to make any headway. Hours later, we eventually make it down from the hills, arriving too late to sort accomodation. But a kindly man takes pity on us, and gives us blankets and a hut to sleep in. It's more remote than we thought; the next day we resort to hitching our way out, and back into civilisation.

Unwelcome to Japan

Am currently in the station awaiting Julius's arrival on the bullet train, having just spent 2 remarkably stressful hours courtesy of Japanese immigration. It's that old 'address where staying' problem on the immigration form. Arriving in a foreign country, I seldom have a clue where I'll be staying. Normal practice is to insert a random hostel from the guidebook, but I don't have one. So I leave it blank. Big mistake. I'm dragged from the queue into the interrogation suite.
At times such as this, my policy is to always tell the truth; these guys will pull any fabrication apart. The problem is my story began to seem implausible even to me.
"No, I don't know where I'll be staying - I'm meeting a friend"
"No, I didn't bring my phone (GSM phones don't work), or have any other means of contacting him"
When pressed, I produced my sole piece of evidence of my intentions - a scrap of paper with 'Hakata Station 10am' written on it.
"But Hakata Station is a huge place"
"Yes, but we're used to winging it"
"Your story makes no sense to me"
After an hour of this, he was clearly distraught that there was still nothing to write in the box. But deoprtation would be too much effort, and after a profuse apology on my part, I was waved through.
By this time, arrivals was completely vacated. Sauntering alone through the Customs Hall, I was an obvious suspect. Another run through my implausible story, and an intimate search of my bag. At least I got to keep my clothes on.