Songkran

Songkran is a Sanskrit word that means 'a move or change'. Traditionally in Thailand it involved the zodiac change to Aries, the end of the dry season and beginning of the monsoon season, and the beginning of a new calendar year. In 1940 (the same year Thailand fought its border-war with French Indochina) the government designateed January 1st as the beginning of the new year like the rest of the world.

There are all sorts of traditions associated with Songkran. It is a time of change, improvement, and renewal. Many people clean their homes or make resolutions to improve their behavior. Thais visit wats to clean the Buddha statues, in some cities the Buddhas are paraded throught the streets so that they can be cleaned by passers-by throwing water. The festival also teaches the younger generation to pay respect to their elders. It is the time of year when most people return home to their parents home.

(Happy Songkran during 2550 - the year of the pig).

In the last two decades the deeper meaning of Songkran has been eclipsed by the more 'fun' aspect of just throwing water on everyone. (Some people also claim that it's become too commercial). In Bangkok people take to streets like Khao San Road with squirt guns and buckets to engage in massive water fights. Up in the provinces people will camp out by the side of the road to douse travelers, or drive around in pickup trucks with barrels of water in the back. I can remember going through Kalasin on a bus once (and I do mean ON TOP of the bus) and having people throw water at us. There are several traffic fatalities each year, but why let that get in the way of a good time?

Thankfully, we are safe from all those shenanigans and tomfoolery up here behind the walls of our colonial city. In here Songkran is a much more civilized affair. This morning I bicycled down to the school to play tennis when a cute little girl with a water cannon approached from the side of the road and politely asked "Can I get you wet?" Without replying, I reported her to a nearby security guard who smashed her gun under his boot.

She cried for a little while, but deep down I know she thought it was a pretty good joke.

All the failure that's fit to print

This week the archives, library, and universities are closed in celebration of Songkran: the traditional Thai new year. Most of the people from the provinces leave Bangkok to spend the week with their families upcountry (which is why its so difficult to get a taxi.) Because traditional avenues of research were closed I decided to visit the headquarters of the Bangkok Post to gain access to their back issues. Part of my project involves the 1959-1963 border dispute between Thailand and Cambodia over possession of an ancient Khmer temple called Preah Vihear. I can't find any newspapers from that era at either the archives or the library, so I decided to go straight to the source. But like many things in Thailand, this sounded easy and ended up being very difficult.

First, I looked up the Bangkok Post on the internet, which gave me the address. But addresses are funny things here - they tell you the road, but not much else. In Thailand, buildings are not numbered in an ascending or descending fashion, with the odd numbers on the right and the even on the left. Buildings can be numbered according to when they were built, or sometimes owners just choose addresses that have lucky numbers in them. So the address does not help search out a building, it only helps you recognize the place once you're right in front of it. I decided to call up a friend who had been there before and ask him to go with me. This probably saved me an good half hour of searching in a taxi.

Once we arrived at the Bangkok Post we had to get past the receptionist. Despite several attempts to explain ourselves, she couldn't seem to grasp who we were or what we wanted. When we finally communicated our purpose, she wouldn't grant us access because the 'public hours' for the newspaper archives didn't begin for another four hours. It was then that my friend executed a diplomatic coup d'etat by pulling out his 'official letter'. It was a made-up letter of introduction from his 'advisor' that featured a forged signature and very smart-looking emblem at the top of the page (that he had also designed himself). Once he produced this lettre de cachet, we were given visitors badges and whisked up to the second floor. In this country, no one cares who you are, they only care whose signature you have. Osama Bin Laden himself could get access to the Royal Palace if he had the right paperwork.

Now came the most difficult part of getting the actual newspapers. At the Bangkok Post normally people research by topics, such as 'health care', 'Thaksin', or 'sex industry'. But they didn't have a file on 'Preah Vihear' and I was more interested in searching chronlogically so that I didn't miss anything. I asked for a CD-Rom for those years. They didn't have one. Microfilm? They had microfilm, but not a machine to view it. Could I buy the rolls I needed to view on my own? I would have to order them from London. It would take two months and cost fifty-five pounds per roll. (I would probably need to order eight rolls to get all the months I was interested in.)

So I decided to just start looking through the hard copies, one issue at a time. I wrote down the months that most interested me. September 1959, June 1963, November 1963....and requested them from a very polite and helpful archivist. After about fifteen minutes she returned with her supervisor. This is never a good sign. The supervisor explained to me that they did not have any of the issues I needed. They had everything before and since then, but every single issue in the five year block (1958-1963) I needed had recently been sent to India as part of their digitization project. She added that those issues were scheduled to return sometime in July, and that I was welcome to come back.

Thailand 1. Shane 0.

The truly amusing part is that if I were back in Madison I could probably get the whole five years on microflim on interlibrary loan from Cornell. It would take me about ten minutes to order it all online.

A 301NIB Public Service Announcement

Now that Jake’s baseball season is over, he has taken to playing video games on Saturday mornings to help fill the void. The amount of time indoors has rapidly increased .Most of his games involve an adventure story that takes him through various levels until finally he confronts the protagonist’s main nemesis. Along the journey he can become quite engrossed in these games and borderline despondent when we ask him to turn it off for the day. Last week he was on the verge on winning Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when we announced his gaming time was up. As he put away the console and controllers he assumed his martyr-like pose and sighed,

“Well, I guess I won’t be playing that game for a while…”

As veteran parents, Kaddi and I instinctively knew that something was wrong. We kept a close watch on Jake for the next month and noticed some disturbing signs. He would often stare blankly into space for several minutes at a time. He experienced a prolonged, constant, twitching of his hands, particularly the thumbs. And he couldn’t fall asleep without snuggling up to his Star-Fox game manual.

Recognizing that my son was in need, I responded with my most trusted parenting method – a good spankin’. When that didn’t work I was all out of ideas, and Jake slowly worsened. He stayed in his room most of the time coming out only for meals. Taxi rides were filled with silence marred only by the occasional dry-heave. We organized weekly support group meeting where Jake could sit and discuss his problems with other kids whose parents stubbornly regulated their video-game sessions. Despite our best efforts, his symptoms gradually worsened and he became more and more isolated from the rest of the family.

As a last resort, we took Jake to video-game counseling so that he could get some professional help. Our doctor immediately diagnosed him with NSA – Nintendo Separation Anxiety. Boys aged 8-14 commonly experience withdrawal symptoms if they’re gaming time ever exceeds six hours per week. Fortunately, we caught it early and with proper treatment (and less Nintendo) Jake will make a full recovery. To facilitate the healing, each night we encourage Jake to share his feelings as we all listen to the musical stylings of Kenneth Cope. I think he’s going to be alright.

Parents: Please talk to your kids about NSA. It’s never too late.

Horton hears a Hua Hin

Southwest of Bangkok about 150 miles on the Gulf of Thailand is Hua Hin, the favorite vacation destination of the Thai elite since the nineteenth century. The current King still maintains a summer palace there, although you aren't allowed to visit it. It's not as clean or as beautiful as Phuket, but its perfect for a weekend getaway. We rented a van with a driver and headed down with two other families in our ward.

We spent the first day at the beach, downing fruit drinks, getting massages, flying kites, playing soccer, (Canada clipped Britain 5-4 on a beautiful takeaway)...the day was so full of activity we hardly had time to get in the water. I even posed for a few pictures with Thai families vacationing at the beach. After that we visited Ba-la-U waterfall about 60 km away from the town. After some friendly cajoling, the gatekeepers even allowed us to pay the Thai price (forty baht) instead of the farang price (four hundred baht). We had a great time hiking up the trail, climbing over the rocks, and trying to keep the kids from drowning. There's nothing quite as relaxing as keeping young children out of cool water on a hot day. It's like...instant calm. We also visited the summer palace built by RAMA VI, a beautiful teackwood structure with elevated walkways and a Taco-Bell colour-scheme. The cool breezes from the ocean, combined with the absense of open-sewers, made it an attractive location for escaping the pressures of the capital city.

But the trip was not without its misunderstandings. One night our driver dropped us all of at the night market to check out Huan Hin's finest wares, which incidentally are exactly like Bangkok's - only 30% more expensive. After spending an hour or so walking around we decided to just walk back to the hotel. Someone (I'd rather not say who) forgot to call our driver and let him know he didn't need to wait around to transport us home. At 10:30 that night I was awakened by a phone call from him, wondering when we wanted to be picked up. I told him he must have the wrong number. Bad form on my part, but he was a good sport about it, as Thais often are in such circumstances. After a few days he even stopped trying to slam the van door on my fingers.

But the most disturbing event took place at the go-kart track. True to Thai form, Hua Hin has a very cool track with cars that will really move, even with a freakishly large white guy sitting on them. One of our party (an English gentleman) persisted throughout the trip in telling me how he was going to blaze past me like the roadrunner past the Coyote. His taunting had no effect on me however (I can't understand his accent anyway) and when it came down to racetime, I crossed the finish line with my British companion nowhere to be seen. Later, while he was driving with his three year old son, he tapped Kaddi and Meg's car from behind, spinning them into the guard rail so that he could pass them on the last lap. A truly shocking display.

Despite this unpleasantness, we managed to enjoy our time in Hua Hin and make it back safely. I just wish our driver would stop prank phone-calling me in the middle of the night.

Realms of Memory

Victory monument is probably Bangkok's second most important landmark. Construction began on two months after Thailand's 'victory' over the French in their 1941 border war, and the site was dedicated on National Day (June 24) 1942. It is meant to represent the triumph of Thailand's modern army over a European nation (France was occupied by the Germans at the time) and symbolize Thailand's arrival as an emerging power in Asia. Most importantly, it celebrates the 1941 recovery of four provinces that France had taken away from Thailand years earlier to make part of French Indochina. Because of its important connections to nationalism and Thailand's confrontation with imperialism, it is an important part of my research.

Everything about the monument glorifies the military. The obelisk-like central pillar is actually five bayonets placed together. There are five bronze status surrounding the obelisk, representing the army, navy (the seaman pictured above is cradling his torpedo like a baby - odd) airforce, police, and civilian corps. The names of the servicemen who died during the conflict are written on the outside, and their bones are interred in small safety-deposit boxes within the monument.

As part of its reparations for joing the Axis during WWII, the Allies forced Thailand to give the four provinces back to French Indochina (they remain part of Laos and Cambodia to this day). The new government made every effort to denounce the fascist militarism of the war years, and Victory Monument became an embarassment to a nation trying to reconstruct a democracy.

Part of my dissertation will try to understand how perceptions of this monument have changed since the end of the war. Once Japan was defeated and the territories returned to France, the monument celebrated a hollow 'victory'. It became an uncomfortable and divisive reminder of a extreme era. In the late sixties there was even some talk of relocating the monument or tearing it down altogether. In my dissertation I will argue that the monument now functions solely as a memorial to the war dead - similar to the 'Tomb of the Unknown Soldier' in western nations. It can not be undone because it honours soldiers who gave their lives in an otherwise meaningless conflict. A monument originally intended to commemorate the nation's greatest victory has evolved into a constant reminder of its greatest defeat.

What is to be done?

It seems strange perhaps, to think of Thailand as the land of milk, honey, and freedom, but not if you remember that the countries surrounding Thailand are Burma, Laos, and Cambodia. Like the Hmong, tens of thousands of Cambodians have sought refuge here, and many are no longer confined to the refugee camps that dot the country's borders. Cambodias have become a part of the growing illegal work force responsible for building highways, irrigation canals, and other building projects. The regional United Nations office is here in Bangkok, and many have applied for refugee status. For most it is their only hope to avoid being rounded up by the police, imprisoned, and eventually sent back to Cambodia.

Since Phnom Penh opened to missionary work in the late nineties, the Church has also begun calling Cambodian-speaking missionaries to proselyte here in Bangkok. When we arrived in October we were amazed to see the international branch here included some 60-80 Cambodian members as well. About a month ago, this section was organized as Thailand's first Cambodian-speaking branch, whose attendance regularly equals and sometimes surpasses that of the Thai ward that meets in the same building. But the branch is not without its challenges. It is very difficult to integrate the branch into the larger stake. Very few people here speak Cambodian as a second language, which makes translations more difficult. Not surpringly for a community of illegal immigrants, the church welfare system has been a huge catalyst in bringing people into the church. I estimate that three out of four Cambodian members are receiving some form of church assistance, probably more.

Last week the Thai police raided a collection of shanties where large numbers illegal immigrants live. Many church members were caught in the dragnet, and being unable to provide proper identification, taken off to prison. Entire families, with children as young as two and three years old are now living in the prison here in Pak Kret - including one of the children who use to come play in our nursery. And this is not the standard INS detention centers from the California or Texas borders. These are average, Thai, cement-block, guard-tower, 'Brokedown-Palace', prisons. Church leaders are now scrambling to find out who has been taken and visit them in prison to provide them with basic necessities and determine their status. Even worse, many families have been separated, since only those who were at home during the raid have been taken off to prison. One of the members in our ward is now sheltering two girls, ages 9 and 12, who had been living alone for over a week. They had been washing dishes all day at a noodle stand in order to have enough money to eat.

All of this presents the church with a very real moral dilemma. It goes without saying that, as fellow-Christians, we have a charitable responsibility to our brethren. But there is a great deal of debate over whether providing sustenance to 'undocumented workers' constitutes a breach of civic responsibility. Many members fear that harboring Cambodians, if discovered, could jeopardize their standing with the Thai government, their works visas, and consequently their jobs. This is especially sensitive for those members who are employees of American or Canadian embassies or who are associated with the US government in other ways. Moreover, there is considerable concern over how having such a large illegal membership will affect the overal standing and reputation of the Church vis-a-vis the Thai government. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is still not recognized as an official sect by the Department of Religion in Thailand. If the Thai authorities see our church as subverting their immigration policy, it will undermine efforts achieve the good relations and recognition vital to church stability and growth.

So far, church policy has supported providing assistance to Cambodian members who are 'in-proces' of applying for refugee status through the UN. Once they've been rejected by the UN three times they can not re-apply, and the Church leaders advise them to return to Cambodia. Many remembers refuse to do this, maintaining that they are political refugees and that if they return to their villages they will be killed. The Khmer Rouge are no longer a factor in Cambodia, but their civil war and genocide have left a legacy of violence and blood-feuds that continue to this day in parts of Cambodia. It's difficult to know what is really going on there. The question thus remains: should you offer refuge and assistance to an individual even at the risk of jeopardizing the standing of the larger congregation?

Bikes, Parks, and Squatters

In Bangkok there is very little open space, very few parks, and even fewer places for kids to go out and play. That's why we were very excited to hear there was a bike park nearby. You can rent bikes and ride around and remember what the world looks like outside the concrete jungle.




Kaddi and the kids went there with their best friends the Nielsons. They moved out to Pak Kret recently and Jake and Meg couldn't be happier. Now they aren't the only kids in the area that are homeschooled instead of going to ISB.



Somehow Jake managed to get through the day without injuring himself by falling off his bike. He's crash his bike so many times both pedals broke off and the handle bars were completely twisted around the wrong way. This was also the day that Meg heard nature's call and had only a squatter with which to respond. She came through in fine fashion, however, with only a slightly splattered shoe to show for it.

The March Mailbag

Dear 301NIB,

Nice work with the fantasy league. What were you thinking picking Texas to go all the way? Next year you'd better ask advice from someone who knows more than you about college basketball - like your wife.

Coop's Crew
Madison, WI

Dear Crew,

From the very beginning I knew I should have picked Florida to win it all again, but I just thought (and this is where I made my mistake) that a re-peat would be too much to ask, especially after they won the football national championship. And there's a good chance my wife could do better than me in one these leagues, which is why I would never let her enter. Can you imagine how humiliating that would be? To have your wife leading you in a fantasy league? That's like getting an ego-historectomy.



301 nights in Bangkok,

Will you give us a small break with the thumb-sucking already? "Oh, my wife makes me watch Grey's Anatomy....sniff...I don't get to watch any of the NCAA tournament....sob,sob...the first season of 24 isn't exciting enough." Good grief man, instead of Prickly Heat sounds like you need a little Desitin in your diaper. Get ahold of yourself and start posting something other than whining.

Wes Mantooth
San Diego

Dear Wes,

That seemed unnecessarily harsh. You must still be upset because I took your mother, Dorothy Mantooth, out for a nice seafood dinner...and never called her again!



Dear 301nights,

What did you and Kaddi do to celebrate Valentine's day? I'll bet there were all sorts of romantic options, being in Bangkok and all.

Best Wishes,

Hallmark Corp.
Kansas City, MO.

Dear Hallmark,

I'm not a big fan of purchasing flowers or trite greeting cards. Instead, I decided to write a poem that would express to Kaddi my feelings of appreciation for coming to Thailand with me. I wanted to convey to her my sense of devotion, and so I sat down and penned the following stanza:

"I'll be there for you
These five words I swear to you
When you breathe, I want to be the air for you
I'll be there for you
I'd live and I'd die for you
I'd steal the sun from the sky for you
Words can't say what love can do
I'll be there for you..."

After that she went upstairs to watch Grey's Anatomy while I sat at the kitchen table and ate an entire box of Choco-pie. Mmmmmm....romantic.



301nib,

You don't include enough information about how your kids are doing on the blog. What an incredible experience this must be for them. They must see and do all sorts of things they'd never get at home.

Sincerely,

Grandma
Magrath, Alberta

Dear Grandma,

You don't know how right you are. The kids are truly having experiences they will never forget. The other day Jake puked in a taxi (again) while on his way to violin lessons. Kaddi, Meg, and Jake all got to enjoy that pungent aroma for another traffic-filled twenty minutes until they could get back home. I hope they tipped the driver.

The other day I walked through the door and heard the following announcement from Meg:

"Dad! We went to the bike park today and I had to use a yucky-bucky squatter and I didn't even care but some of it got on my shoe."

Forget about the glimmering temples, white sand beaches, bridge on the River Kwai...its not memorable unless it involves body fluids.

The Jack Bauer Glower Hour

Yes, we've started watching 24. We gather each night 'round the laptop to watch Keifer as he violates the rights of countless ordinary citizens in pursuit of the bad guys. Watching Jack face-plant a hospital visitor who he suspects of being a co-conspirator is truly an enjoyable romp.

I get the impression, however, that they're still working on the chemistry here in Season one. The storyline, characters, and delivery and not quite as tight as they could be. There are lots of questions. Will Nina and Jack get back together? Will Tony shave that horrible soul-patch? Will Keifer's gang of vampires use their powers for good or evil?

Although I continue to hang on, I have a few... observations...that I hope will be rectified before I get to Season two.

1) CIA or WWE?
Season 1 storyline involves a conspiracy with the CIA to help assasinate an African-American presidential candidate. Plus, Jack's family has been kidnapped as well. Isn't that enough excitement for one day? Do we really need the entire law enforcement community chasing Jack at the same time that he's chasing the shooter and trying to figure out which agents are dirty?

So far he's escaped from both the CIA and the Secret Service. Now he just needs to breakout of custody from the FBI and LAPD and he'll have hit for the fugitive cycle.

2) The story-telling can be a little s-l-o-w.

Okay, I realize that events happen in real time. I realize that this is the first season and they're establishing characters and relationship dynamics within families and work places. But maybe showing tenty minutes of burying a dead body, or mom and daughter desperately sitting on a hay bale, or Jack falling asleep in a construction office isn't the best way to advance the plot. If they wanted events to happen in real time, they probably should have just called the first season: 12.

3) "Need to know basis"

Now I'm no intelligence expert, but isn't the CIA supposed to be a secretive organization? So why does Jack Bauer share his life story with a supermarket clerk (who he just kidnapped)? Why does Tony run around headquarters like he's going to wet his pants if someone doesn't let him into Annie's secret circle? Best of all, why do we get exchanges like the following:

Nina: Hi, is Jack there?

Jack's Wife: No, I can't find him, his cel phone must be turned off.

Nina: Well, I have some top-secret information for him, but I'm too busy pottytraining Tony to keep calling him. When you see him at dinner tonight will you just tell him the corpse has been ID'ed as Alan York.

Jack's wife: (thinks) But...if Alan York is dead, then who's sitting next to me driving the car?!

4) Tales of Ribaldry

An airplane bathroom, a furniture store, and some sort of barn stall - all before 9 AM. If this is how the morning goes, I'm going to need a chaperone to watch the evening episodes. No wonder this show is on FOX.

March is quite mad, you know

I realize that many of you are busy going places and doing stuff. But during this festive season shouldn't we also take time to think of those less fortunate than us? People who might be separated from friends, loved ones, and cable tv. People who have little more than Season three episodes of Ally McBeal: Surgical Intern to amuse and distract them. Let's all take ten minutes and enter a fantasy Tourney Challenge team...do it for them.

Click here to do your part

Group: 301NIBasketball

Password: Nichada

How is Kaddi doing?

Her hot-dog has a first name, it's N-I-N-E....

Her hot-dog has a second-name it's D-O-L-L-A-R-S...

In the thousands of letters I get from fans all over the world, the most common question asked is:

"How is Kaddi doing?"

I think it's best to let Kaddi answer that question in her own words....

"So I did something very implusive and expensive. The other day at the store the employees were unloading a new shipment. It was oscar meyer products. The store does not always carry oscar meyer and when they do they are very expensive. I was very hungry at the time and really tired of the same old things to eat. We eat a lot of soup and sandwiches. So I saw the hot dog packages and impulsively bought one.

Normally this would not be a big deal but the package of 10 cost me almost $9.00 . I definitely splurged on that one. But they looked so good to me. The last hot dog I had was when we first got here. So this morning when I got up I was so excited to eat my treasured hot dogs that I ate one for breakfast. Let me tell you it was probably the best hot dog I have ever had. It tasted sooooooo good. I'm a big breakfast person and love french toast, pancakes, eggs, popovers etc. but all I could think about when I got up this morning was oscar meyer.

I don't usually splurge on food like that here because I feel too guilty but after eating that yummy scrumptious all beef dog I had no guilt what-so-ever. The kids also informed me that they were fine eating the thai hot dogs that I have been buying them. I won't touch them. After boiling them you have to peel like this layer of skin or something off. Gross. So I was double excited because now I don't have to feel guilty about not sharing my prescious hot dogs with my kids.

So that's my tale. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

"You're such a tasty little hot dog! Aren't you? Yes, you are....YES YOU ARE!!!"

SIDENOTE

Monday was another of Thailand's 37 official government holidays. Since the archives were closed we decided to take the kids to see Charlotte's Web. But going to the movies is slightly different for families here in Thailand. You stand for the King's Anthem, of course. But unlike the US, Thai theaters do not concern themselves with making sure the previews are suitable for the movies target audience. That is, you don't go to see Finding Nemo in Madison and spend the first fifteen minutes watching trailers for Basic Instinct II and The Departed. Here in Bangkok that could very well happen. We had to cover both Jake and Meg's eyes during several minutes of movies featuring ghost-zombies, pole-dancing, men in drag, and people getting shot at point-blank range. Thai movies seem genuinely bizarre to me.

Thankfully, we have up-and-coming filmakers who are producing stories the whole family can enjoy. For example, the Aspend 3rd ward youth program and their production entitled The Date? If you have ten minutes and a hankering for some nostalgia, I suggest you check it out.

The film contains many powerful images of high-school life we can all identify with...sitting on a marble staircase playing guitar, the beautiful mahogany doors opening into a graffiti-less bathroom, falling alseep on the couch after school while reading the "For the Strength of Youth pamphlet...

It's like they took my teenage years and put them up on the silver screen.

A Day at the Yard

Baseball the way it was never meant to be played...

Welcome to the North Bangkok Baseball League: where we're just trying to pass the time before soccer starts again. In this league, every hit gets at least two bases on the overthrow and if there wasn't a maximum of six runs per inning, the games would never end.

Jake stars on the Coca-Cola Red Sox and has played very well so far. He routinely hits the ball all the way to the fence (we're still waiting for the big home-run), and he's made great defensive plays in the field, He would do even better if we got him a baseball glove that was manufactured after WWII.

Here's a video of one of this great hits. Unfortunately, the players on the other actually can catch the ball and he's tagged out at second.

"Willpower is a renewable resource"

Lately the political strife, religious fanaticism, and natural disasters I see featured on the nightly news bother me more than usual. In these troubled times, it becomes more and more difficult to rely on the sunday-school cliches and family wisdom that provided so much comfort in my youth. I feel there must be more out there, some greater truth that would explain how to maintain our inner peace in the chaos that surrounds us. I feel in need of serious self-evaluation, like making real changes in my lifestyle. That's why Kaddi and I are considering a conversion to Environmenatlism.

As we've been learning over the past few weeks, Environmentalism involves devotion to Earth, the giver of life, the mother of us all. There was a time when man lived in communion with Earth, before the Industrial Revolution. Since then, mankind has fallen out of harmony with the earth, due to the fact that each of us has carbon out-put. Environmentalist spokesman (and Oscar-winner) Alberta A. Gore teaches us that we can find temporal happiness and re-establish harmony with Earth through a process of 'lowering our carbon-footprint.'

We've been studying Environmentalism for several weeks now and I feel we're almost ready to to get Bio-dieseled. There's only one thing holding me back - I'm not sure I have a testimony of Global Warming. I mean, no one can see it - how do we know that it actually exists? Other Environmentalists tell me that signs of Global Warming are everywhere, we just have to look. Its in the hurricane patterns, and the changing ocean currents, and African Savannah drought. But I'm not a climate scientist - I can't just pretend something's real because I want it to be. I won't just take this on faith...I need actual data, evidence, proof that something is real before I'll believe in it. If Global warming actually exists then why is Wisconsin still so damn cold?

So even though I'm not ready to become a member, there I still lots of things I do while preparing myself to be an environmentalist. Like installing solar panels on my roof to provide some of th electricity for my Olympic-sized swimming pool, hot tubs, and personal fitness center. Or ensuring that one of my 7 vehicles is a hybrid. Or flying around in a private jet to political rallies and major awards ceremonies where I criticize parents who drive their kids to soccer pratice in an SUV. And of course, every night we get together to study Earth in the Balance as a family. I can still help spread the gospel of environmental harmony with those lost souls who still celebrate the combustible engine as a triumph of human engineering.

Which reminds me, I've got a pamphlet that I think each of you would be interested in...

So you see - We're just like you.

Here at 301NIB we get letters from all over the world telling us how amazing Thailand looks, and how much they would like to live here so they could enjoy our an exotic lifestyle. The truth is that, by showing only the highlights, the website tends to make things look more exciting than they really are. Not everyday is full of breathtaking events such as getting dehydrated at the Tallest Buddhist Monument in the world, or burning out your retinas by staring at a salt pyramid. Mack Strate may be an international hip-hop superstar and internet phenomenon, but most days we still do the same mundane errands and tasks as every other family. The only difference is that, in Thailand, sometimes a routine activity can turn into a lesson in long-suffering. For example...

Last Saturday it was my job to put gas in the three-wheeled scooter we've been borrowing from a friend. Since there are no gas-stations or other useful (but unsightly) establishments here in 'ex-pat fantasyland', I had to ride the scooter outside the walls of our theme-park into Real Thailand. This involved risking both my safety and my masculinity as I drove safety-scooter down a main road full of taxis, buses, and semi-trailers.

I somehow avoided becoming the hood ornament of a tractor trailer, pulled into the gas-station and started looking for the key that accesses the gas cap under the seat. When the attendant came over, instead of filling up the tank, he informed me that there was a power outage and that they couldn't give me any gas because they couldn't pump it. The station across the street didn't have power either. So...I drove even farther down the street to another station. No power. I drove back down the street in the opposite direction, past the Nichada gates to another station. No power.

But I was determined not to go back empty-handed. Since there was a 7-11 next door (that great center of Thai economic life) I decided to just grab a snack and wait for the power come back on. This momentary struggle did nothing but prolong my suffering. The store had no slurpee machine. I settled for chocolate milk, but couldn't get Meiji brand and instead had to drink Foremost. I bought my usual pretzels thinking they were pizza-flavored, not noticing I had picked up 'corn-flavored' instead. I sat on my little roadster and waited, and waited....and waited. But no power. The Universe had considered my petition and pronounced its decision: "No gas for you!"

So...

If you're looking for an image that truly represents our lives in Thailand, this might be it. Me, sitting on a safety-scooter at gas station, choking down semi-chocolate milk and corn-flavored pretzels, waiting for electricity to come back on.

(Or Kaddi sweeping up ants...that might be a good one too.)

The Backstroke Queen

"You can swim, you can dive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the backstroke queen..."

So THAT'S what happened to it...

This morning I found the following news story in National Geographic...



Fishers in northern Thailand netted this huge catfish in the Mekong River. Nearly nine feet long (2.7 meters) and as big as a grizzly bear, the behemoth tipped the scales at 646 pounds (293 kilograms). Experts say the fish, which belongs to the species known as the Mekong giant catfish, may be the largest freshwater fish ever recorded.

After a record-breaking Mekong giant catfish died, residents of Hat Khrai, a Thai village on the Mekong River, butchered the fish for its meat. The catfish, highly aggressive feeders, are known to eat almost anything. Among the stomach contents of this behemoth, fisherman found a triangle pillow, a daschund dog carcass, and a small silver Pentax digital camera.

"Mekong people believe it's a sacred fish, because it 'meditates'"—in the deep, stony pools of the Mekong River—"somewhat like a Buddhist monk, said Zeb Hogan, a fisheries biologist who studies the largest freshwater fish in the world. A WWF conservation fellow and National Geographic Society Emerging Explorer, Hogan has received funding from the National Geographic Society Conservation Trust.

Mekong giant catfish attract high prices in Thailand, because eating the fish is supposed to bring good luck. Likewise, the Chinese believe that catfish meat boosts intelligence and prolongs life.

Who doesn't love a giant stupa?

Another day...another daytrip....

What vacation in Thailand would be complete without seeing the Floating market? We headed down to Damnoen Saduek (about 100 km Southwest of Bangkok) to check out the canals, orchards, and Thai handicrafts that have been featured so prominently imagery advertising Thailand. Our second trip varied somewhat from our first (with my parents). On the way down we stopped by the side of the road to checkout the salt flats that surround Samut Songkhram. They pump ocean water into small 'paddies', then allow the water to evaporate and harvest the salt. As Del and I wandered around we smelled the acrid odor familiar to anyone who has driven past the Great Salt Lake on I-80.

After spending an hour getting 'hooked' by one vendor after another at the Floating market, we traveled back through Nakorn Pathom and ate lunch at KFC. (This is not your father's Kentucky Fried Chicken - who knew they made such a great flat-bread shrimp taco?) Later, I wandered off to Dairy Queen while everyone else went to Swensen's for some peanut-butter chocolate chip ice cream. When I re-joined the family, I walked into Swensen's and was met with Americana's classic photo-image of tragic disappointment. I rounded the corner to see Meg, empty waffle cone in hand, tears rolling down her cheeks, mouth agape with a anguishes howl beginning to emanate from the very depths of her soul...while at her feet a scoop of ice cream slowly melted on the ceramic tile. O, that I had a picture of her face at that very moment! (She had the exact same expression as Jazzhands when Showchoir ended and he was forced to turn in his shiny red suspenders.)

Fortunately, I knew exactly how to console a six-year old girl who just lost her ice cream cone...

...by taking her to see the tallest Buddhist Monument in the World! A few blocks from our dining spot was Phra Pathom Chedi, a giant Stupa and one of the most famous monuments in Thailand. Surprisingly, Meg chose to stay in the car while I drug Del along to take some pictures (she goes crazy for Splash Mountain but doesn't like this?). I couldn't convince anyone to climb up the side of the chedi with me, but I had to have some pictures of the monument - at the very least to use in some future World Civ class when I try to teach students about the origins of Buddhism and the meaning of a 'stupa'.

Sidenote: We also want to thanks two families in our ward for helping us meet our transportation needs during this week. One lent us their golfcart, another their scooter with two childseats on the back, both useful for getting groceries, going to baseball games, or driving Kaddi's parents outside the gates of Nichada to get the daily footmassage.

At first I had my reservations about driving the 'Mom-scooter', since it is a little emasculating for someone like myself. But when I compared it with riding around on a child's bike, suddently it didn't look so bad.

The Competitive World of Speed-Stacking

The clash of cultures continues...

Thanks to relative who sent over the equipment with Del and Sharon, Thailand has now been introduced to the sport of "speed-stacking." As Jake will demonstrate in the following video, you place your hands on a timer (which starts as soon as you lift up your hands, then stack several cups and return them to their original position before returning your hands to the timer. Jake and Meg have both been actively preparing themselves to compete in the sport's inaugural even in Southeast Asia, which will consist of me, Jake, and possibly Meg.

Kaddi and I are actively encouraging Jake's newfound devotion in this sport, we're hoping that years of practice during his formative years will prepare him for a future career in the catering business, or perhaps even get him his first apprenticeship as a carni.



Disclaimer: This is a silent movie, as our temporary camera does not record sound.

World Wide Pants

On Del and Sharon's first day in Bangkok we headed down to see the Grand Palace, with its corresponding temple - Wat Prakaew. Since this is the holiest place in Thailand, they do not allow tourists to enter with shorts, immodest skirts, or tanktops. When Del went in to borrow some pants, they gave him a beautiful pair of purple slacks. We all thought them so stylish we decided he should keep them. But when we tried to sneak out of the gates he was tackled by soldiers who then hauled him off for questioning.

He hasn't been sentenced yet, but apparently "pants-lifting" by farangs is on the rise here in Thailand and they want to make an example out of him. We may have to delay his flight for...a while.

The Bridge

After checking to make sure we had a new van with indestructible air-conditioning, we headed out to Kanchanaburi province about 120 km west of Bangkok. Kanchanaburi is the home of the "bridge over the river Kwai", made famous by the 1952 film with Alec Guiness and William Holden (which was actually filmed in Sri Lanka. During WWII, the Japanese needed a railway link between Burma and Thailand to help them accomplish two things: Cut off British and American support to China through the 'Burma Road', and give the Japanese empire secure access to tungsten deposits in Burma.

In order to build the railroad the Japanese used POW's captured in the Philippines, Malaysia, Hong Kong, and Singapore. Approximately half the workers died either from malnutrition, disease, or exhaustion. In the city of Kanchanaburi there is a cemetery dedicated to the British, Australian, and Dutch POW's that died during the construction. (In actuality, over eighty-percent of the workers who died on that project were Malay, Burmese, or Chinese that had been pressed in to service by the Japanese. There is no memorial for them.) After the bridge's completion it was destroyed by Allied bombing.

We had an enjoyable and education day learning about the Pacific theater. I enjoyed the Railway of Death museum. Jake enjoyed playing around in the waterfall. Del enjoyed dinner at the floating restaurant. Kaddi and Sharon enjoyed watching dozens of schoolchildren laugh and stare at me. Meg enjoyed chewing a jumbo package of Bubbilicious.

The Crocodile Farm in Samut Phrakan

We celebrated Valentine's Day by taking a day trip to Samut Phrakan, about 30 miles southeast of Bangkok, to see the world's largest crocodile farm. It was a day full of Hallmark moments. Sharon took her first elephant ride, Jake fed Mentos to a monkey, and Del got a picture with a tiger.

We had rented a van and rode down in air-conditioned comfort with plenty of leg room. On the way back, however, the air-conditioner stopped working. We had an hour-long ride in 90 degree temperatures with diesel exhaust pouring in the open windows. By the time we got back to Nichada they had to peel us off the upholstery.

After today I'm pretty sure Del and Sharon are trying to move up their flight home. (Lucky for us they can't get to the airpot on their own.)

Your donation is appreciated

For the past few weeks we've been looking forward to Del and Sharon's visit, because we knew they'd bring with them the greatest gift of all. The gift of presents.

Here's a special thank-you to all those of you who contributed to the family care-package...


When she's not perfecting her backstroke or dreaming of chocolate cake, Meg likes to curl up with her new colouring book.



When he's not playing gamecube or learning Brazilian soccer, Jake likes to smell his new shoes.

Mmmm....waxy.

After a long day of scholastic achievement, Shaino pays a visit to the land of chocolate.

The 301NIB Mailbag

Dear 301nights,

I heard Nicolas Cage just finished filming a movie in Bangkok. Did you see him? Have you seen anyone else famous there?

Sincerely,

Fastrunner-Reader-Junior-Christmas-Helper
Magrath, Alberta

Dear FRJCH,

I guess Nicolas Cage must not have filmed any scenes in the National Archives, because I haven't seen him. I saw Steve Young and a gas station once. I saw the director of 'Chicago' at Disneyland, but since coming to Thailand I have not seen anyone famous.

But I did get a personalized phone call from Alec Baldwin. At first I though it was just a pre-recorded message that a friend had put together to make fun of me at nbc.com. But then when he mentioned that I had pretty hair I realized he must actually know me. If a big movie star like Alec Baldwin can take the time to call me, the least I can do is watch his show. If it were on TV here.

Dear 301NIB,

I've noticed the rate of your posts is slowing down as of late. Does this mean you're finally starting to do some actual research? I mean, that was your reason for going to Thailand in the first place, right?

Russ Darrow
Madison, WI

Dear Russell,

I'm proud to announce that I went to the archives for the first time this week, filled out my application for a research permit, and received my ID card. It was like the archives fairy godmother touched me on the head and I became a real researcher.

The bad news is that, unlike the National Library, where I feel quite comfortable and manage to look professional, I have no idea what I'm doing at the archives. They have a completely different catalogue system. I've spent most of this month sitting at a table drawing potential new logos for 301NIB.

The coolest thing about the archives? Personal lockers. You know you're a serious researcher when you have a locker for your belongings. I keep notebooks and pens in mine, along with some soap, a towel, deodorant, shower sandals, and a poster of Edward Said on the door. It's a little awkward using the group shower, but after six hours of grappling with Thai-language sources, you certainly need it.


Dear 301nightsinbangkok,

Oh-my-gosh...you look so hot in those latest photos! I would totally make-out with you. I've got you as my wallpaper on my desktop now. Are you doing a lot of exercise over there?

Your fan,

Kelly K.
Scranton, PA


Dear KK,

I'm really not doing any exercise in the conventional sense. In the world of Nichada, it's only permissible to exercise if its an end unto itself. That is, you should only physically exert yourself for recreational purposes, and not to achieve anything practical. It's acceptable to spend a half hour jogging in your Nike gear, but if you need a loaf of bread from the store you should really drive. I used to walk to the neighbourhood gates to get a taxi, but I stopped after people driving by started throwing spare change at me or asking if I needed directions to a homeless shelter.

It's the same with our skin tone. Decades ago people used to take pride in having pale white skin, because it was a sign of wealth. It proved you could afford to stay indoors all the time instead of working on a farm somewhere. (They also thought plump women had the ideal body type.) But now it is the opposite. Everyone is stuck at a computer in a cubicle under the same depressing flourescent lights, so having tan skin is a sign of our vitality. It means we have the time and money to lie around outdoors (or in a tanning bed.)

Thais, on the other hand, are the exact opposite. Many have occupations which still involved hard physical labour out in the sun. They covet white skin and think foreigners are crazy to spend time running around for no reason or than fitness.


Dear 301NIB,

What's the update on the bombing situation in Bangkok? Did they ever apprehend a suspect? Do I need to post-pone my vacation to Phuket?

Slightly worried,

Ulf Svendersen
Bjornjornlinder, Scandahoovia


Dear Ulf,

I've decided that using the website in order to comment on political matters might not be the wisest move at this juncture in my career. Two years ago a grad student friend was followed home from an anti-Thaksin rally by Thai police, who briefly questioned him as to his purpose in Thailand. I'd prefer that the authorities here not become too interested in me. I still have nightmares about being 'interrogated' by UW campus police for writing those leaflets supporting traditional marriage. Aside from that, I think you'll be perfectly safe here in Thailand.


301nights,

Congratulations on passing the 2500 hit marker. I wonder, how many of those were the result of you checking your own website?

Princess Poindexter
Roseville, CA

I would guess...at least 2000.

LIAR TOWN

As many of you know, Each day Meg and Jake have journal entries as part of their writing portion of homeschool. Here is the latest installment:

LIARTOWN

by Meg

Once upon a time there was a little town. No one has been there except liar people. It is called Liar town because everyon person lies.

One day a person repented and told the truth. Everyone else repented and told the truth, so the town had a party.

Now that everyone was telling the truth they named the town Partytown. Everyone has a party all the time and they all lived happily ever after.

THE END

So it's come to this? A Strates clip show

Sometime over the holidays we lost our camera. I have no idea what happened to it. It may have been thrown away with all the wrapping paper, but more likely I left it on the counter at some 7-11 while I was paying for another slurpee.

There's nothing left to do now but look back at some of our camera memories...

Why I hate Grey's Anatomy:

As part of what will undoubtedly be a life-long pursuit of redemption for bring Kaddi to Thailand, I not only purchased a season of Grey's Anatomy, I also sit down and watch many of the episodes with her. There's only one way to fight back the humiliation I feel from knowing characters and plotlines from the show...by writing a scathing 3-point critique.

Why I hate Grey's Anatomy (and you should too)....


1) It's 'Ally McBeal' in a hospital:

I mean, really - haven't we seen this show before? A troupe of young, good looking, urban professionals who are somehow at the top of their game even though they do nothing at work but gather in the halls to whine about their failed relationships, or flirt with each other in the co-ed changerooms, or sit on the stairwell looking depressed while some (horribly written) inner monoluge drones on. Even during their off-hours all they can think to do is hang-out with each other at a bar across the street from the hospital. I've always wondered why does it take me eight hours to see a doctor when I show up at emergency care? Now I know it's because they're all in the supply closet performing exploratory surgery.

2) Medical Narcissism:

At Seattle Sacred...whatever, they are single handedly pushing society towards enlightenment one surgery at a time. Surgeons are like gods, constantly congratulating themselves on their ability to stave off death. There's nothing the surgeons can't fix, whether it be re-attaching an ankle or convincing empty-nest parents that it's time to let their wheelchair-bound daughter have a life of her own. The doctor always knows best. People who don't accept the diagnosis are backward, or worse - religious.

3) Dr. McDreamy

This is the 21st century sensitive hetero-male? We're only in the middle of the second season, but let's see if I've got the story right so far...

His wife cheats on him with his best friend and he tries to escape the pain by relocating from Manhattan to Seattle. There he broods and simmers, so wounded by his wife's infidelity that he waits an entire three weeks before jumping into to bed with his intern, the fake-Renee Zelwegger. Just as this adulterous relationship is peaking he re-discovers the importance of his wedding vows and goes back to his wife, who he can't stand to be around, and immediately begins pining for his intern. He's a relationship hurricane in a turtleneck, leaving nothing but human wreckage in his path. But oh - those smoldering eyes!

Patrick Dempsey should have stayed in movies. It's still not to late to shoot a sequel to Can't Buy Me Love!

A traditional Canadian Boxing Day

Since we spent the holidays here with no family and no immediate friends and no snow, we weren't exactly sad to take down the Christmas decorations. The highlight for us was probably December 26. I was excited to finally involve my children in a genuine Canadian tradition and show them how I celebrated Boxing day as a child - by going to a safari park full of exotic animals.

We spent the day with some new friends from our ward checking out the animals, watching sea lion and dolphin shows, and getting dehydrated. This park has a special platform that overlooks the 'savannah'. Once you're up there they provide you with bananas to feed the giraffes who just walk right to the platform and stare at you eye-level. It was amazing.

Not until we were finished with the day did we realize that we couldn't get a taxi way out in Northeast Nonthaburi. The park was shutting down, but at the last minute we managed to talk our way on to the employee shuttle bus. They took us down to a main road where we could get a taxi.

Safari world's version of the Jungle Cruise. It's exactly like the one at Disneyland. Except the water smells a little funny. And some of it leaks into the boat. And there's no guide or narration. And the animatronics don't really move, they just heat up and shortcircuit.

So really the only thing that's similar is the stereotype of savage African cultures.

Meg peers out into the 'river' separating Stupendousland from Superterrificworld. I estimate it took us three and a half hours to get that stroller across this wooden plank bridge.

For another eighty baht Jake got to bottle-feed a this baby, fulfilling a nine-year dream to actually touch a tiger. We're also looking into gene-replacement therapy so that he can become a tiger, but unless we can get President Bush to stop vetoing stem cell research that option remains out of our price range. He may have to just settle for tiger-stripe tattoos.

Jake with his crew. We wanted to get a picture of Meg but these giraffe's have two-foot long black tongues that can rip the buttons off your shirt if they smell like bananas. Since she generally smells like some type of dessert we thought it best to maintain a safe distance.

Am I Hot or Not?

Who's stock is up /\ and whose is down \/ in the world of 301NIB?


Kaddi /\

Nichada's top beginner tennis player is dominating the courts every Monday morning. She's been moved up to the top court and will now be battling the pros...of her category. She also has a new friend. One of her tennis partners thought she was twenty-three years old and couldn't believe she had two kids.

Better yet, we paid a visit to Panthip Plaza this week - the black market capital of Thailand. Five floors of counterfeit merchandise and software. We got Flushed Away for the kids, a copy of Microsoft Office for her man, and Season 2 of Grey's Anatomy for the Lady herself.

And yes, they did have seasons of 24 available.


Meg /\

Meg had a rought start to the week when she accidentally discovered that the plants in front of our apartment are poisonous. She spent a good half hour in the bathroom crying with her hands under cold running water. But she's better now and we're trying to put the episode behind us, except that some injury attorney from Stockton keeps leaving us messages.

She has once again started dance and also began taking swim classes today. She came home and shared with me how her teacher introduced the kids to the backstroke. He said they need to pretend their arms are like little knives and there's a big chocolate cake behind them. With each stroke they need to reach back and 'cut the cake, cut the cake...'

Using this mental imagery, Meg set a world record in 100m backstroke for the under-14 age group.


J-Dog /\

Jake has his soccer tournament this Saturday. It's going to be a pretty big event. I've heard there will be some Middle School scouts in attendance, but he's promised us he won't sign a letter of intent until we've had more time to look over his options. He's also started baseball camp this week, although I don't envy him running around that dusty infield under the Thai sun. He told us last night that he hit a home run, although I'm not sure what that means since there's no fence. He made it all the way around the bases, I guess.

He's also pretty happy about being able to ride his bike over to a friend's house by himself. Jake's perfect afternoon involves riding his bike over to his friend's, playing gamecube, then riding bikes with his friend over to baseball practice. It's as if he were growing up in the United States...back in the fifties.

Things are so good for Jake right now he has his own theme song. It was written and usually peformed by Kaddi, including the following lyrics....

"J-dog in the house, J-dog in the house...
J-dog in the house....
I said J-dog in the howwwww-owwwwwwwse. "


Shane <->

I picked up a copy of the National Library newsletter this month to discouver I'd been named Bangkok's 'Sexiest Researcher Alive' for 2006. Since this may be the only recognition I get out of this research trip I was happy to accept the designation (it'll look great on my CV). It's just a little difficult to concentrate on extra-territorial treaties when there are fifty screaming schoolgirls banging on the reading room sliding doors.


Thailand \/

Thailand has recently been downgraded from 'partly free' to 'not free' in a recent survery of global freedom by Freedom of the World 2007, joining such democratic powerhouses as Burma, China, and the Congo. This think-tank apparently doesn't take kindly to military coups that oust democratically elected leaders, juntas that threaten the press and block access to international newsproviders and websites, or government agencies that force their civil servants to wear hideous yellow shirts every day.

No good news could overcome this bad publicity, not even the knowledge that Thailand has an equivalent GDP to the state of Arizona, as well can see from the following map:

















I was a little disappointed to see Wisconsin has a similar GDP to a former apartheid state, but hey - Minnesota is equivalent to Norway.

เหตุการณ์ที่ทำให้หมดกำลังใจ

For about two weeks now I've been looking for a government pamhlet published in 1940, entitled "How Thailand Lost Its Territories to France." I finally figured out how to properly type the query into the computer (in Thai) so that I got the proper search results. It was a rare document so I had to go request it in the Luang Wichit reading room and return a half hour later to find the pamphlet waiting for me.

In my extensive research experience (ahem...) I had never been given a document in such poor condition. It was no exageration to say that this thing looked like someone had recently lit it on fire. I was afraid to even pick it up. I carefully carried it to a reading table but as soon as I opened it the back page fell off. The margins slowly crumbled with every touch, and after five minutes my work space looked like I was operating a bandsaw - there were bits of discolored paper all over me and the table. In this condition the pamphlet was useless to me.

All of this raises two issues...

First, libraries and archives are supposed contain documents hundreds of years old. How is it that something only 65 years old is in such poor condition? Most parts of the Thai library are not climate-controlled and apparently they recently had a raging wildfire, but this is still quite discouraging.

Second, how is it that they would take a document that is already falling apartand give me access to it? Not only did they let me read it, they also allowed me to take it down to the copy center (where someone finally had the sense to take it away from me so it could be repaired). In France I practically had to take a retinal scan and submit to a cavity search before they would even give me the documents, and they didn't let me photocopy anything.

So...I didn't get to read the pamphlet and I didn't get to make a copy. They say they are repairing it, but who knows when it will be done or if I will ever be allowed to see it again. After two weeks of periodically searching, I'm left with nothing.

I guess its time to tell Kaddi we'll need to stay longer than ten months.

"You should have paid it on time"

It's incredible to think that since we've been in Thailand we have not received a single letter from anyone. As missionaries, we were on a first-name basis with the mailman, we knew exactly when he should arrive each day, even though he was usually late. With the advent of email, blogs, and long-distance internet technologies such as Skype, we no longer need the post to keep in touch with friends or family. Our mailbox is a sad and lonely place filled only with advertisements from grocery stores, updates from the housing authority, or (yawn) the occassional bill. Now, I traditionally ignore the mail and everything in it, so I'm really not sure what comes through that box. But I was aware of one thing that hadn't appeared yet - the electrical bill.

When we passed the two-month anniversary in our apartment and still hadn't received any correpondence from the power company, I became slightly less apathetic. After all, it is customary in most societies to exchange goods or services for money, and electricity was the service that fueled our air-conditioners, and the air-conditioner was the one thread that tied our fraying marriage together. A gap in our power supply could mean separation as Kaddi returned to California, which would mean I'd have to give Fulbright back their family allowance stipend, which would mean I'd have to make up the difference by working as pole-dancer at a Japanese sushi bar. In the face of such potentially catastrophic outcome I decided there was only one possible course of action: ignore the problem and hope it somehow worked itself out. This approach (practiced in Japan as the Shaino-suka method of crisis management) has served me faithfully for over a decade of marriage.

By the time we did get our notice, I realized I may have to change tactics. Thai bills are a mess of words, numbers, abbreviations, ledgers, and acronyms. Just imagine trying to read your AT&T bill in a non-western language (I can hardly read mine in English). Although I couldn't decipher everything, I did understand three very important words at the top: Warning, Cut-off, and electricity. Since the we had not yet made the acquaintance of Thailand's Power Authority, I thought this quite a rude manner of introducing themselves, but it didn't change the fact that we now had a serious problem. I knew that most people paid their utility bills at 7-11, (is there anything you can't do there?) so I immediately put on my red baseball cap, hopped on my kiddie bike and pedaled my way down to the local candy store. When I handed my Notice to Disconnect to the store clerk and asked if I could pay it she immediately drew back in horror.

"You can't pay this here," she said. "They're going to cut off your power in three days, so now you have to go to the utility authority down in Bangkok. You should have paid it on time."

*sigh*

The only thing better than hearing that you've just been enrolled in a Thai version of the Amazing Race, where you have to find the utility company and pay the bill before they cut off your electricity (which may initiate divorce proceedings)...is getting that news PLUS advice about paying your bills on time. If The Mack Strate was a hero in a Thai comic book, his nemesis would definitely be the pretentious 7-11 clerk. Actually, that's pretty lame. I'll have to think of something better.

There was nothing left for me now but to return home and try to call the power company on the telephone. This was always an adventure, because in Thailand even officially listed numbers only work about half the time. They just changed many of the area codes so that now you have to dial '8' in between the first two digits to connect. Also, when you call a gigantic, amorphous corporation like the utility company, you have no idea who will pick up the phone, or even who to ask for. I decided to try try my luck in English first and pull out Thai as a last resort. Sometimes you just get tired of trying to accomodate others by speaking their language and want people to start accomodating you. After hitting my head on every branch in the phone tree, I finally managed a conversation oscillating between Thai and English and discvered that there were multiple locations where I could petition the power company to extend my electricity privileges, including one near the National Library in the Thewet (thae-wade) district. Things were looking up.

When I got off the river-taxi the next day the first thing I needed was a tuk-tuk driver who could tell me where the utility office was and possibly even take me there. As you come down the pier ramp on to the street, there is a row of tuk-tuks on one side and motorcycles on the other, waiting to transport people to their office, class, whatever. This also mean there is also a crowd of tuk-tuk drivers standing around waiting to either help or harrass you depending on their mood. I approached the group and explained that I needed someone to take me to the power company so that I could pay my bill.

"You don't need to go to the power company," he said, "Just pay it at the 7-11 there on the corner."

There are times when you really don't feel like giving you life's account to a tuk-tuk driver, but in this instance I knew my marriage hung in the balance. So I explained that it was a past-due notice and that they were going to cut our power and I just needed to get to the electric company office.

"Oh," he said, "I don't know of any office around here. You should have paid it on time."

This fatherly wisdom echoed in my mind as I walked down to a main road to find a taxi who would hopefuly have more than financial advice to offer me . I jumped into the first cab to come by and explained my situation:

"I need to go to the electric company to pay my bill AND I CAN'T PAY IT AT 7-11 because it's past-due."

It must be that everyone in Thailand is smart enough to pay their bills on time, becaue nobody, not even a taxi driver who earns his living driving around Thewet, knew where the utility company (which ended up being three blocks away) was located. As we drove around I made the mistake of showing the driver the notice in the hopes that he might recognize the logo or name or something....anything. Armed with this symbol of my procrastination, he proceeded to stop the taxi at nearby store to ask for directions. For the next few minutes I felt like a living exhibit in the Museum of Bad-Credit Consumers. One by one passers-by would stop, look at the collection notice, frown, turn to stare at me trapped in the taxi, look back at the notice, and shrug as if to say "The only way to really help these people is to just let them be." By the time we found someone who knew where it was located, the entire district knew we were behind on our bills.

Once I finally got to the utility company it was rather anti-climactic. I once again by-passed the waiting protocol by being tall, white, and incoherent - and within five minutes I was up at the window paying my money. On the way back to the library I walked a little taller knowing that both my research tenure and my marriage had been prolonged for at least another month.

But since that day every store within a mile radius of the National Library has refused me credit.

Into the Great Wide Open

We Wisconsin fans thought we were special when our Men's and Women's hockey teams both won national champions last year, but now Florida has outdone us by winning national championships in basketball and football. This confirms three things I've always believed about college sports:

1) Urban Meyer really DID sell his soul to the devil.

2) There really is a university that can out-do Ohio State when it comes to 'educating' its 'student athletes'.

3) The word 'Chompions' is probably the cleverest thing ever printed by any sportswriter, anywhere.

So, Congratulations Gator fan...on the best thing to ever happen to Gainesville since Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

...huddled masses yearning to be Thai.

Wednesday our family went to the Immigration Bureau in Bangkok to renew our non-immigrant visas. After spending a few hours and a few thousand baht, we had permission from the Kingdom of Thailand to stay until September. I know that many of you are wondering how the Thai immigration system stacks up against its American counterpart. I've spent the last week building a spreadsheet that compares the two national systems. Thailand and the United States go head-to-head in six scientifically recognized categories.

If you're trying to decide between immigrating to the U.S. or Thailand, this is one post you can't afford to miss. Here are the results...


Category #1: General Ambience of Immigration Center.

THAILAND: Hot, stuffy, congested room with plastic stadium seats, dirty floors, soiled smelly bathrooms, crying babies, and incomprehensible audio instructions constantly blaring at you over the loudspeaker.

USA: Hot, stuffy, congested room with plastic stadium seats, dirty floors, soiled smelly bathrooms, crying babies, and incomprehensible audio instructions constantly blaring at you over the loudspeaker.

Advantage: Tie.



Category #2 Elapsed Waiting Time

THAILAND: It's generally possible for tall, white, bearded researchers with perfectly coifed hair to avoid waiting by feigning ignorance as follows:

Official: Where's you number?
Shane: Number? The lady at the information desk just told me to come straight over here and give you this letter.
Official: You're supposed to have a....(sigh) just give me the application.
Shane: (quietly) heh heh...

USA: You can expect to be #87 in a line "now serving" #11. Any attempt to circumvent the process is guaranteed to result in you twitching and flailing around on the floor with several gigawatts of electricity surging through your body while federal employees enjoy a rousing game of 'Taser the immigrant.'

Advantage: Thailand



Category #3: Requirements: (What do you need to get a visa?)

THAILAND: Your money.

USA: A stack of forms and pictures explaining your unique qualifications for entering the home of the brave. You must provide proof that you've performed at least three miracles during your lifetime (and they can't be card tricks). You may also be required to provide a self-criticism explaining what sins you committed in your former life that caused your bad karma, which resulted in your being born in a country other than the United States. They also want lots of money.

Advantage: Thailand



Category #4: Fringe Benefits.

Thailand: When you complete your application they give your children pieces of candy.

USA: When you complete your application they put you in a concrete cell, spray you down with a firehouse and throw de-lousing powder in your face.

Advantage: Thailand



Category #5 Bureaucratic efficiency.

THAILAND: Forms processed within two hours.

USA: Forms fed into paper shredder within two hours. Rejection notice sent out within 12-18 months.

Advantage: Thailand



Category #6 Ultimate Reward.

THAILAND: A drab, uninspiring, blue-ink stamp in one's passport.

USA: A shiny, new alien credit-card, complete with picture, thumbprint, and super-cool hologram.

Advantage: USA!


Disclaimer: Applicants should remember that upon completing Thailand's immigration process they will have to live in Thailand.