Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Today we were up early and had breakfast about 9ish and after a couple of hours on the beach we rented a scooter and toured the island in the afternoon, albeit slowly as I didn’t want to become on of those vacation horror stories that occur all to frequently with two-wheeled vehicles and tourists. Koh Chang is probably the best beach we’ve been to in terms of compromise between what I like and what Pocky likes. It’s beautiful and clean with a fair amount of vegetation right up to the shoreline. It even has those tree with trunks that lean out over the water and whose name escapes someone with the vegetal knowledge of myself – that’s like carnal knowledge, but, oh never mind. On the other hand there are far too many Germans and vendors for my liking. The happy medium seems to be the choice of restaurants and drinking establishments. Although Malaysia (the Perhentians) was idyllic and isolated, we were reliant on a poor, and poorly managed hotel restaurant for all our dining. I suppose that what pleases both parties is really for the best – minimizing complaints, hence tension.

Thursday, December 23, 2004,
One thing I really like about Thailand right off the bat, is that there aren’t the same space issues that exist in Japan. With about half the population of Nippon and approximately the same land area population density isn’t close to as high in the Land of Smiles.

Friday, December 24, 2004
Slowly, but surely the relentless train of vendors and parade of tattooed Germanics are starting to get me down on Koh Chang. Not that I’m rescinding my initial diagnosis in terms of what is the ideal balance for us as a couple, it’s just that this beach seems to have answered the unposed question, “What do people do when not making Mercedes?” The other bit about the vendors is a tricky one. Certainly, the locals should have a chance to cash in on the tourist boom, and it is more than obvious that the ambulant beach hawkers are on the lowest end of the economic ladder – many of them are selling massage or cheap trinkets that would require little outlay of capital, nonetheless there really should be some regulations surrounding how many of them are allowed to roam the beach. It felt like every thirty seconds the sunlight was blocked out by one of these blockheads. No, really, I empathize, but I can’t see how non-regulated beach vending will have anything, but a long-term negative effect on tourism. Then again, maybe I’m wrong – Koh Samui doesn’t appear to suffer for them. As for regulating Germans and Swedes… I’m all for it.
On the upside, I had an utterly relaxing moment about fifty meters off the beach lazing on a floatation device looking back at shoreline. It really is spectacular. The palms trees shoot up from the white sand and there are heavily treed mountains just behind the beach that contrast nicely with the foreground. The hotels and bungalows are, for the most part, hidden behind the greenery. I truly had one of those moments where you think anyone who isn’t me right now is a real sucker. It’s good to be alive. The sunset was also superb. I’m no sun worshipper. Both Pocky and I have been heading to restaurants, internet cafes and hotel rooms between the hours of one and four to avoid the brunt of the sun, and in the morning we basically hang in the shade of a palm tree. In spite of my solarphobia, there really is something about the beach that I find extremely pleasant. It may be the lack of obligation to do anything, the ability to gaze across the horizon, or just some mysterious quality of land meeting sea. In any case, I am glad I came.

Saturday, December 25, 2004
Time has melted and morphed to make for the quickest five days of my life. I really don’t know what we did, but it wasn’t much. Another great day on the beach, the weather has been nothing short of immaculate the whole time we’ve been here. I was contemplating the life I’ve left versus the one I’m starting as I lay floating on the raft today. It’s funny, I feel like it’s just another vacation and the day after tomorrow will see me back at work, but of course that isn’t the case. Part of me thought that I would never leave Nova; it was such an easy gig, probably a bit too easy. I don’t think I’ll miss the monotonous teaching aspect of the job, though I’m sure I’ll miss the paycheck and the friends. Whatever’s in store for me next, I can unequivocally say that my time in Japan was well spent and just a few days out of the routine has made me believe that my choice in moving on was also the right one. The day to day of work and life in Japan wasn’t bad, but the least I can say is that my horizons were not expanding. I’m already getting into the Thai language a bit, more interestingly is simply observing the way people interact here – markedly different from the Japanese.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004
An interesting last several days, on Sunday we made our way back to Bangkok and spent the night on the infamous backpacker-cum-tourist haven, Khao San Road. Incidentally, a huge tidal wave hit the Andaman Sea on Sunday. Fortunately for us, we were staying on the other side, the Gulf of Siam. After a long bus ride on Sunday, we repeated the same feat on Monday to make our way slowly (six hours) to Khon Kaen. We rented a car and headed off to Nong Sao, pronounced like the cutting instrument, where we arrived at eightish.
So, I find myself back in the village. It’s always a great place for a bit of introspection and philosophizing on the state of man. Of course, this is an internal process as none of the villagers can speak even rudimentary English and my Thai is faltering at best, and my Lao non-existent. I imagine that the etymology of the word privacy may have some relationship to the word privy, the loo, in short, the vestibule where one passes water and moves one’s bowels. In the village the idea of privacy doesn’t exist, even in the privy, as it were. The villagers truly live a communal lifestyle. Visiting the village is like taking a trip back in the history of human development. Here we find ourselves in the heart of a group-oriented, agricultural society. At some point in the development of any nation such a lifestyle must have existed, at least for a brief space in time. The morning market must resemble something that existed in New England in the 19th century. To be sure, barter is not practiced, but human societies have been using money-currencies for some time. I once saw an anthropological documentary talking about the development of the human dwelling. According to the show, it was a great step forward when humans started to divide their dwellings into individual rooms. When the human was afforded some deal of privacy his/her intellectual development jumped ahead. In Nong Sao most houses still seem quite communal in design. It got me to thinking about human progress. We build as a group, but create as individuals. Great manpower is required to run electricity wires across a country, a group effort is necessary in building hydro-electric damns, and other power plants, but if not for Thomas Edison where would the idea of electricity sprung forth? Yes, some other individual might have made the discovery, but that is, in the end, the point; an individual sparked on an idea and the group implemented it. There is no conclusion here, nor will I attempt to bring this full-circle to refer to Nong Sao, however the village certainly does inspire me to consider humanity as an ever-evolving species and human society as a work in progress. Perhaps in the future I will try to synthesize a bit of the loss and gain in developed nations versus the developing nations, or is it more to the point to talk about the urban versus the rural, the city and the village.
We did something rather fascinating today; at least it was fascinating for me. We went out and saw some kind of Buddhist soothsayer/healer. We traveled several villages over and stopped at non-descript village house. Inside the house was a room that had been converted into something temple-like. A woman, the woman, sat on a sort of alter, her back to an image of Buddha surrounded by statues, pictures and other various religious paraphernalia. Most interestingly was that on her right side was a rotund water vessel and on her left and vase embossed with Chinese characters that served as a spittoon. I invite the reader to envision the scene. An older lady who evidently had some sort of stomach ailment approaches the woman on her knees, she prostrates herself three times in the Buddhist tradition, the healer/soothsayer/beetle nut chewer recites something I assume to be in Pali, then she takes a big gulp of water from a ladle that she dipped into the vessel on her right. Now this is where it gets good for the non-familiar, e.g. me. The spiritual medium, tooth-gap large, lady, then spits the water all over the ailing woman’s naked torso. Then our water/beetle-nut juice expectorating friend lights a bundle of candles and runs the flames over the saliva and H20 doused area, all the while reciting more Pali. She repeated the same thing for another woman, but this time on the woman’s head – Suffering from migraines? Try a mouthful of this. – Finally, she called my girlfriend and I forward despite protests from myself (I was assured that it would just be talking, implying no oral imitations of a fire hose). The lady rubbed some gold flecks into my palms and forehead, and continually uttered “three years” in Thai. Evidently, that was some type of prediction. Pocky thought the worse and assumed it meant our relationship would only last three years, but as there was no supplementary explanation, I tried to put a spin on it meaning we would be married in three years, or some other positive make believe. The world over fortune tellers pull the same racket. It consists of being as utterly vague as possible in order that they are never responsible for any mispredictions and are able to twist their mumbo-jumbo to fit any occasion. I apologize if I sound over judgmental. I could go in for the whole good luck thing, I do have certain Buddhist inclinations, and I don’t reject believing in the unseeable part and parcel, but don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s raining. And, by all means, don’t spit water on me and mutter some arbitrary period of time!

Friday, December 31, 2004
The last day of the year and I can honestly say that I am glad to put 2004 in the history books. If we’re doing the obligatory year-in-review, then the theme of ’04 has to be work. Damn I busted my ass to get myself here. One vacation in May, but otherwise 6/7 day workweeks coupled with moving (twice) and endless errands (many) in prep to move to Thailand with some money in the bank. Unfortunately, the year end doesn’t mean an end to the moving or other chores. Anyway, it is good to close the Japan chapter as it felt like living in limbo for the last half year. I’ll hope for the best in ’05.
On a more mundane level, yesterday we went to Khon Kaen from the village. Ostensibly, we went to look for a place to stay, but really we were just bored and the town of Kalasin, the closest place to the village that isn’t a village, with its population of 40,000 has only one or two internet cafes filled with schoolboys playing video games, so it was a bit difficult to get on the net and check some info around Khon Kaen. KK is a university town with about 150,000 people, so a bit urban, very urban and urbane compared to Nong Sao. So there we were in the big city, we needed gas so we stopped in the same gas station/convenience store that we had rented our car from by pure chance. While getting gas Pocky asks about a real estate agency. The owner’s wife comes out, and guess what, just so happens that along with managing ‘servos’, Aussie for gas station/conbini, the owner happens to dabble in real estate development. Long story short, the guy drove us out to this housing development in progress. The houses are in the typical Mediterranean villa style that seems so popular with the upwardly mobile Thai. For purely informational purposes I allowed myself to be dragged through the various model houses. Actually fairly nice and with small yards that were nonetheless playing fields compared to what you find in Japan. The houses were going for about 70~90,000$, not bad considering that most of them had as much floor space as one would find in the average American home. Not that all of this house viewing got us anywhere closer to finding a place to live, but interesting all the same. After that song and dance I went to the internet café to find that most everyone I know has taken me for dead. The outpouring of concern was touching, but I wasn’t able to respond to most of the emails due to slow internet connection and some snag with sending a mass email. Oh well, I will heighten the drama when I announce my continued existence.

Oh yeah, I forgot the most salient bit of the day for the overseas reader. We bribed a cop. Well, actually it sounds more salacious than it is. Pocky was driving the rental car to Khon Kaen. This may have been a lapse in judgment due to the fact she doesn’t have a license – no one’s perfect. So we were going through an intersection with a rather poorly laid out traffic light that you can’t really see until you’re into the intersection itself. We were following a line of cars and the light turned red as we came through. Surprise, surprise there was a posse of Thai law enforcement officers camped out under a tent like they were having some kind of garden party (This is quite common along Thai highways). Actually, they weren’t having a garden party, they were fishing. And they caught a live one in us. So they waved us over and we shat our collective trousers because of the license, or lack thereof. The Kingdom’s finest pointed out the fact we had run a red light and asked for Pok’s license, which she had ‘left at home’. That’s ok because it turns out our representative of the local constabulary wanted to make a donation to the local temple and discretely dropped an envelope into Pok’s lap that she may aid in the said donation. Two hundred baht later (5$) we were forgiven our traffic code violation. The officer also wanted to know where I was from, if we had children and if I was ‘a good foreigner’. We assured him I wasn’t some dirty Burmese refugee and he smiled and waved us on our way. All and all, I think we got off pretty well. Imagine in the US driving without a license and paying the arresting officer a cup of coffee and donut to look the other way… I just have a hard time envisioning it.