Set phasers to...FUN

Last week we headed over to the Bangkok Children's Discovery Museum, where we discovered that for every one hour spent at the museum we got to spend two hours in traffic.



Jake and Meg spent 45 minutes of the 1.5 hours we spent at the museum sending little 'capsules' back and forth to each other in these windpipes. If they had just done it for fifteen more minutes they would have been certified to work as a Wells Fargo drive-thru bank teller.


It's always fun to shout messages to each other through long pipes. As a special Discover museum souvenir, each kid brought home a case of 'tube-and-mouth' disease.



The kids learn how Thai pop music videos are made using a blue screen. They watched themselves on the televisions monitors in front.
Jakes poses on a replica of a traditional Thai hut on stilts.



Kaddi and Meg pose in front of a traditional Thai shelter for big screen TV's.

A Momentary Indiscretion

1972 was a tumultuous year for Thailand. The Cold Ward was at its height as the shadow of Communism grew across Southeast Asia. Thai leaders watched anxiously as President Nixon gradually withdrew American troops from Vietnam. The Pathet Lao was threatening monarchy rule in Laos and the Khmer Rouge battled the government of Cambodia. Even within its own borders, guerillas from the Communist party of Thailand regularly clashed with the Thai army and broadcast radio messages of revolution to the Thai people. University students began growing their hair long and protesting Thai foreign policy, including the US military presence in Thailand. Everywhere it seemed that the existing social, economic, and religious order was under attack.

In June of that year, four Mormon Elders from Nakhorn Sawan province traveled north to Sukhothai province to spend their preparation day touring the ancient city. Sukhothai is considered the birthplace of the Thai nation, the kingdom that existed before Ayuthaya and Bangkok. It was the home of Ramkhamhaeng, the legendary king who invented the Thai alphabet and presided over unprecedented peace and prosperity. The ruins of Sukhothai are sacred to Thais and have been declared a UNESCO World heritage site.

(Caption says: One American missionary poses on head of Buddha, another takes a picture. Both narrowly escape being lynched by angry mob.)

As they toured the ruins and posed for pictures, the group's greenie decided to climb up on the Buddha and pose for a picture sitting on its head. Even though all missionaries in Thailand are warned about the cultural sensibilities of both head and feet in Thailand, none of the other three objected to his actions. His trainer took the picture and the group continued on with their excursion.

Upon returning to Nakhorn Sawan, the trainer dropped off the roll of film with a local developer. When the owner of the store saw the photos, he was so incensed that he sent the pictures to several newspapers. On July 12, 1972 Siam Rat printed the infamous photos that changed both the church's status in Thailand and these young men's lives forever. The newspaper Thai Rat carried these photos on their front page for five straight days.

(Captions: Two Americans hide their faces while being sentenced for disrespecting Buddhism. Taxi driver furious he had to drive farangs. Missionaries receive death threats and must be placed in solitary confinement for our safety.)

Having only skimmed the story briefly, I'm not sure exactly when and why the Elders were arrested. After this publicity it became impossible for them to go out in public in Nakhorn Sawan. It may be that they eventually turned themselves into the police for protection. At night groups of people would gather to throw rocks at the house they were living in. They received death threats. When they were finally jailed they had to be separated from other inmates so they weren't attacked or lynched.

(Photo bottom center of Elders in handcuffs: Americans found guilty of disrespecting Buddhism, sentenced to six months in prison.)

The judge assigned to their case did not accept ignorance as an excuse. Because they had come to Thailand to teach about religion, he said, they should have been more familiar with Buddhism and its cultural sensibilities. Buddhism was the cultural foundation of Thai society, and their actions threatened to undermine that foundation. He sentenced the greenie and his trainer to six months in jail.

It was a harsh punishment in deed for such a momentary indiscretion. I would guess that today such an offense would warrant deportation at most. But because of the high-profile nature of the case, the judge probably felt he had to make and example of the missionaries. A strict ruling was necessary to protest Buddhism's status as the religious cornerstone of Thai culture. Societies can behave like animals. When they are threatened they lash out at enemies, real or perceived. Sometimes they invent enemies to defeat, giving them a enhanced feeling of control over their situation.

One can not help but feel sorry for these two missionaries, whose names (which I purposely omit) will forever be associated with the most embarassing episode for the church here in Thailand. This is not the experience you expect when you receive your mission call. For decades, Protestant ministers have used this event as an excuse to continue to deny the LDS church from receiving official recognition as a religion in Thailand. Even when I was a missionary, twenty-two years after the fact, I still met the occassional person who would say "I remember you, you're the guys who sat on that Buddha in Sukhothai."

To this day there are still no missionaries in Nakhorn Sawan or Sukhothai.

A Modest Proposal

Kaddi and I have a problem that confronts most couples with young children - we don't get out much. This problem was again brought to our attention recently when we went to the mall and saw previews for Fractured. (We never miss a Ryan Gosling movie). But how to get out without the kids in tow? We have no family here. Most people we know have left for the Americas, all other contacts live an hour or so away, and according to our rental contract the security guard's duties do not include baby-sitting. The solution to this problem requires a little ingenuity.


Since our kids are old enough to be relatively self-sufficient, but not quite old enough to stay home for four hours by themselves, it's simply a matter of keeping them both contained and entertained. They need to be restricted enough that they can't burn the house down, but not necessarily supervised. The solution involves borrowing an time-tested product and finding a new application for it. Mormon parents everywhere, I give you....

The Kiddie-Kennel

Have you ever sat in church and silently laughed while leaders instructed you to go out with your wife once a week? No longer. With Kiddi-Kennel you just cage 'em and engage 'em.

Most kids spend four hours a day watching TV anyway, so why can't they stare at the telly through the bars of protective steel mesh? The prototypes I'm working on with my business partner will be about 3 X 3, with an mesh cage in front, cupholders, snack trays, and built in earphones in case the kids want to watch separate movies. We're experimenting with fireproof outercasings and perhaps even sprinkler systems. We still haven't got the toiletry situation figured out, but our focus groups have shown that this is not a major concern for parents anyway. (After all, cleaning up a little tinkle is a small price to pay for some alone time - why not just put some newspapers down?)

So, for only $69.99 the kids can watch their movies in secure comfort, mom and dad remember why they got married in the first place, and there is love at home.

Inhumane? Going three months without a date with your wife- THAT's inhumane!

Presenting a presentable presentation

The Seven Martyrs displayed at Ban Song Khon Cathedral in Mukdahan province.



When I arrived here in Thailand, Profesor Chalong (who oversees my research in Bangkok) asked me to deliver a seminar paper to his graduate students at Chulalongkorn university. I had serious reservations about speaking at an academic forum in Thai, but what's the point of doing all this research if you're going to keep it to yourself? Connecting with other scholars and finding an audience for your work is the goal of every professor. A month ago I received the seminar schedule and found out I was the first lecturer in a series that included some very distinguished names in our field. This increased the stress level a bit, but since the audience was mostly graduate student with some faculty it turned out to be a very informal, enjoyable environment to share some preliminary conclusions.


As I have repeated many times, my research involves Thai nationalism and anti-colonialism during the WWII period. For this forum I chose to limit my remarks to the Thai government's attempt to rid the country of the Catholic church form 1940-1944. In the minds of Thai leaders, Catholicism was working hand-in-glove with French imperialists to consolidate power in Southeast Asia. Once the border war between Thailand and French Indochina broke out, Bangkok exploited the wartime atmosphere to persecute Catholics and entrench Buddhism as the national religion (a process which has recently received renewed interest).


The results were disastrous for Catholics. All French priests were arrested and deported, and most Thai priests were imprisoned. All religious meetings were banned, the churches and schools were closed and usually appropriated for government used. Catholics were forced to attend 'Re-education meetings' and asked to sign affadavits saying they had renounced Christianity. Catholic govt workers lost their jobs, and Thais boycotted their businesses. Thais who refused to stop teaching Catholicism were assaulted and sometimes even killed. The Vatican responded by sending in Italian priests and enlisting the help of the Italian embassy in Bangkok to recover lost property, but during the war they could exert little pressure. It was not until Japan's fortunes in the Pacific nose-dived and Thailand began preparing itself for an Allied victory that the religiou persecution ended. Late in 1944 Thailand adopted a new Constitution that ensured religious freedom and the government began gradually returning church property.





My ground-breaking powerpoint map of Catholic administrative boundaries.


On the whole, it think the presentation went quite well. Thailand is currently drafting a new constitution and there is strong support for writing in Buddhism as the national religion, so the topic received a great deal of interest. Most of the audience was not even aware of that such an episode had ever taken place. I have uncovered incontrovertable evidence that the entire campaign was the result of orders from the Ministry of Interior to the provincial governors, which raises serious questions about Thai-West relations. I made many mistakes in Thai, and often felt rather foolish, but managed to maintain people's interest when presenting the evidence. The most difficult part was attempting to explain how this episode fit into the overall framework of my dissertation (something I have difficulty explaining in English).

Even better, Kaddi was nice enough to sit through the who two hours so that I would have a friendly face to look at. Afterwards I think one of the graduate students tried to hit on her.



(And of course I was swamped with people who wanted to be featured on 301NIB, or wanted t-shirts and other merchandise. Celebrity is such a burden.)

It's all anecdotal

Thailand, like many Asian countries, thinks that English is synonymous with pop culture and being cool. It's not uncommon to see a Thai posters or billboards written mainly in Thai except for a single English word or phrase in the middle. Usually the word is spelled wrong or the grammar is incorrect, which makes it fun for anyone who can actually read it.

Except today. I was standing on the river pier waiting for my boat, when a middle-aged woman and her son walked by and stood next to me along the rail. The son had just finished school and was dressed in a para-military uniform, while his mom had on slacks and a t-shirt. I happened to glance over and see that mom's t-shirt has a graphic that looked like a billboard for a British band called 'U.K. Subs', which I've never heard of. It was full of pictures with English words and phrases, but placed squarely in the middle in bold type were the words....

Well, I can't type the words here, not even with dashes in place of key consonants. Let's just say that the phrase rhymed with "Duck Cough."

Hard to imagine your mom picking you up from school in a t-shirt like that, isn't it?


The Break-Up

I had a great Father's day. Kaddi made me a special dinner of chicken-salad croissants, black-olive salad, and cranberry punch - all three are delicacies here in Thailand. After dinner Meg gave me two cards that she had made for me, each containing a chocolate treat that she knew I liked. One of her cards said:

"In all the years of Dads, you've been the best"

What father wouldn't love such praise? When I finished admiring Meg's card (which took some time) I asked Jake why there was no card from him. He rolled his eyes and said "Dad, I just don't love you that way!"

I guess he just wants to be friends.



Share the Magic

Some of our friends from Wisconsin are headed for a family reunion in San Diego this summer, and will probably visit Disneyland with their kids for the first time. When we mentioned this to Meg she was very excited for her best friend Whitney. She got a dreamy look in her eye and said:

"Whitney will have so much fun at Disneyland...cotton candy, ice cream, lemonade, giant suckers, licorice....so much fun!"



It's a Boy!

...for our friends Clark and Kim....that is. The Millers recently emailed us saying that they had their baby, on Father's Day no less. They decided to name him Russell Clark Miller. Clark and I served in the Elders Quorum together in Madison, I was the Millers hometeacher for over two years, and I even helped them paint their basement during their remodeling project. I was quite touched that they decided to name their second son after me (Russell is my middle name). Needless to say, I'm very honoured.

Although "Mack Strate Miller" would have sounded even better.

Welcome to the desert of the real

Recently I've received some feedback from certain viewers stating that they're unhappy with the rather slow progression of the blog. They want better posts, and they want them more often (as if this were a television sitcom). Well, there's a reason why the blog has bogged down of late.

Nothing....is....happening....here.

This is far more palpable for the rest of the family than for myself. Kaddi's tennis circuit has ended. Soccer and baseball have long been over for Jake. Meg's ballet and swimming lessons are done. The international school has gone on summer break. All the embassy and corporate ex-pat families have begun their annual migration back to stateside normalcy, leaving no one to socialize with Kaddi and the kids. Even Jake's weekly violin lesson, not exactly a highlight, was cancelled this week. because the teacher's kids have an as yet unexplained rash. Our daily lives, never very exciting to begin with, are now slowly dragging across the sandy bottoms of the ocean of life.

For me it's slightly different. The research process is open-ended. I could easily stay here for two years and not exhaust the materials that would enhance our understanding of memory, loss, and the Franco-Thai conflict's role in Thai nationalism. But all my life I've got by doing the minimum. You figure out the exact amount of work necessary to complete a task or achieve a goal, and then portion out your time and effort accordingly. It's a mantra. The problem is, I had officially done the minimum by the end of May. I have the bare minimum of materials necessary to produce a ground-breaking PhD dissertation. What I find from here on out is bordering on over-achievement. I've spoken out against overachievement my entire career. It's a very confusing time for me.

So, for all intents and purposes, 301NIB has reached a stage comparable to a basketball game whose outcome has already been determined. As the final seconds tick away players just stand around staring into the stands and preparing their cliches for the post-game interview. (We're so bored we've been watching the NBA finals.) Our departure date is set at July 24th, so until then many of you might want to find an alternate diversion.

Just remember to check back for the season finale.

Keeping up with the Cluffs

Growing up, every kid has someone they try to imitate, someone they admire. Perhaps they even secretly wish they could take his place. Jake has Shadow the hedgehog. Dwight Schrute has Michael Scott. Michael Scott has Todd Packer. Even Homer Simpson has Duffman. (For the purposes of this post...) That person in my life has always been my cousin Ryan.

Ryan is two years older than me, which seems like a lifetime when you're a kid. He was always the straw that stirred the drink. Things just happened when he was around. Just walking somewhere with him made you feel cooler, it didn't matter where you were going. My boyhood is dotted with episodes of trying to measure up to my older cousin:

When I was 8 and he was 10 we spent Easter up in Whitecourt at the Heaven's. I thought I had outdone him in the egg-rolling contest. He and Bill responded by pelting me with the leftover eggs and then locking me in an empty rabbit cage and leaving me there until I passed out from the ammonia fumes.

When I was 9 and he was 11 I caught his attention by reciting all the lyrics from Joan-Jett and the Blackhearts hit "I love Rock-n-Roll". But later that day he outdid me by founding and playing lead-guitar for the Rock super-group Firestorm, which remains the greatest under-14 band in Magrath's history.

When I was 11 and he was 13 I tried to outshine Ryan with the recent baseball championship trophy our team had just won. But he had something far more impressive -a girlfriend. I spent a whole weekend trapsing around the St. Mary's campground listening to he and Bill talk about girls. My slang vocabulary increased ten-fold.

When I was 17 I was often top-scorer on our high school basketball team. But he was 19, a freshman at Ricks College and into Gatorade, late-nights parties, and most of all...gangsta rap. I remember seeing him and Bill on a Thanksgiving weekend and driving around in their compact listening to NWA. It was the Mount Olympus of teenage cool.

It has taken me multiple attempts and several decades, but I think I've finally outdone Ryan. He lives in Orem, I live in Bangkok. He vacations in New Mexico, I go snorkeling in Phuket. This superiority is personified by my pimped out ride - each day I travel to the archives in a pink taxi. Who could possibly top that? I took great pride in fulfilling a life-long dream of out-doing my cousin.

Until I saw this:



Not only did Mr. Senior-project-manager go out and get a Lexus (and a smokin' hot wife to pose on the hood), he gets the most beautiful shade of purple you can buy without having to slap a rainbow-triangle on the bumper.

So, once again I have fallen short. But my resolve has not weakened. I'm pretty sure a dissertation on the "Selective Memory of Survival: The Franco-Thai conflict and the role of loss in modern Thai history" will vault me right back into the spotlight. Then we'll see what's what.

An Evening of Meg

A few highlights from Meg's first dance recital.

First remove the glow-stick from thine own eye

On Saturday Jake went to the birthday party of his friend Alex. They enjoyed playing paintball, had pizza and birthday cake, and spent the night playing Nintendo. Unfortunately for Jake, while all the other boys slept over at Alex's house he had to return home at 10:30 PM so he could attend church the next morning. When he arrived home late that night knowing all the other boys were still in the throes of Nintendonitis, his only consolation was the pink glow-stick that he received in his partybag. He cracked the glass vial, shook up the two fluids, and fell asleep staring at its soothing phosphorescent light.

As if reluctant to part with that birthday euphoria, Jake decided it would be a great idea to bring his (now spent) glow-stick to church with him. And so it was that as we were in the middle of fast and testimony meeting, Kaddi and I looked over to see that Jake had managed to crack the glow-stick outer casing and squirt its radiocative fluid onto his shirt, into his eyes, and onto the dress of the lady sitting in front of him. You really have to admire Jake and his unique talents. Who else can take a child's party favour and produce a mushroom cloud?

As we have since learned, the glass vials in glow-sticks are full of hydrogen peroxide. As anyone who wore contact lenses in the eighties can attest: it is extremely painful when applied directly to the eye. I took Jake to the bathroom to rinse, but he had his eyes shut too tightly to allow in any water. Luckily, the husband of the family who gives us a ride to church each week is a US army doctor, who instructed us to take the eye-flush concept to the next leve. We carried Jake into the kitchen and laid him on the counter. I held his head in the sink while Dr. Gibbons forced his eyes open underneath the kitchen tap. We held him under the water for a good fifteen minutes. His hair was soaked, his shirt was soaked, we even got his pants a little wet. By the time we finished he looked like a drowned rat...who'd been smoking marijuana.

As fate would have it, immediately next door to the Asoke church building is the Rutnin hospital, an eye clinic that caters to clientelle from all over the world. I walked Jake over there and registered to see eye doctor. Within fifteen minutes he'd had an general eye exam. Within thirty minutes he was in the doctor's office getting an eye scan. The doctor determined there had been no damage to the eye tissue. Within 45 minutes we'd received his eye drops and paid the bill: twenty-seven dollars. Within an hour we were back at church in time for the beginning of third-hour classes. (Why must the Thai private health care system be so blasted efficient?!!)

Lest ye find yourself feeling too sorry for poor Jakey - know this. While we rinsed out his eyes, the primary president brought him several fun-sized Twix and a large handful of Starbust candies (which you can't buy here) to help alleviate his suffering. He sat eating this candy at the eye clinic while he watched 'Mr. Bean take a vacation' and several pretty Thai nurses fawned all over him, enamoured of his red hair. At one point I considered dumping the remainder of the glowstick into my own eyes to get in on the action.

On the walk back to our meetings I asked Jake which scenario he preferred:

Column A : Severe eye pain, followed by candy, a movie, and an hour long break from the Sunday block.

- OR -

Column B: A normal Sunday.

He chose column A. (A church-goin' man after my own heart.)