Bangkok Expat Mama

A Nose Is a Rose Is a...Rose Apple?

Apropos of nothing today, really -- but quite interesting all the same -- is this nugget from page 1 of the 30 January, 2008, edition of The Bangkok Post. I clipped it for the metaphorical rainy day when somehow, eventually, I might begin blogging again. Without further ado, here 'tis:

(The following excerpts are to do with the sign language Thailand's hearing-impaired citizens have devised for alluding to new Thai Prime Minister Samak and his fellow pols.)

WHEN A NAME'S ALL IN THE NOSE
By Anchalee Kongrut and Penchan Charoensuthipan

"...a report that some [People Power Party, Samak's party] executives were irritated by the nose-pointing by translators during the live broadcast of the parliamentary session on Channel 11 when they referred to Mr Samak, who has a big, rose apple-shaped nose. Well, at least that's one description of it."

(This is running on page 1, folks. Page 1. Like, where news about wars and the economy usually runs. --Ed.)

..."When referring to Abhisit Vejjajiva, they move their hands around their faces and raise their thumbs...moving the hands around the face means 'good-looking' -- which some, though not all, believe is Mr Abhisit's most memorable feature."

(Well, he is quite a handsome chap. --Ed.)

"...interpreters put their hands at shoulder-level to refer to Chart Thai [political party] leader [and former primer minister] Banharn Silpa-archa, considered by many to be rather lacking in stature."

(...and considered by others, such as Pygmies, to be rather enormous. --Ed.)

For more free comedy, readers could have turned to the back page of that day's news section, where some choice lines languished in an economy story:

NO QUICK FIX FOR THAILAND
By Surasak Tumcharoen

"...many of the new Thai legislators seem unaware of the threat of a recession in the United States. Some MPs said they have been barely able to keep abreast of world events of the last few weeks as they have had little time to watch television or read newspapers."

(! --Ed.)

"Others were too exhausted by the Dec 23 general election, or too preoccupied with moves to set up a post-election government."

(Aw, diddums! --Ed.)

"Nevertheless, those about to form the new government generally agree it is time Thailand launched a new and more aggressive tourism campaign."

(That's exactly what the country needs, because tourism fixes everything. --Ed.)

"The government should look to increase the tourism industry's earnings to make up for the loss of foreign investment capital...[MP Suradej Yasavat] recommended that all tourist destinations be quickly restored and promoted...The kingdom launched the Amazing Thai campaign nearly a decade ago to boost tourism earnings and make up for the decline in exports and foreign investment."

(Since it worked so well the first time round, thereby eliminating any future need to make up for "loss of foreign investment capital" -- hang on, that's what we're trying to do now. Running in circles, maybe? --Ed.)

U.S. Healthcare Crisis

Yesterday I met an American woman whose family moved here last year because they couldn't afford the care her daughter needs to fight cancer. The moppet, who keeps her bald pate warm amidst Bangkok's ubiquitous air-conditioning by wearing a fetching bandana, frolicked nearby as her mum shared their story.

I was as appalled by their situation as I was impressed by their resourcefulness. How lucky they are that this lady's husband works in an industry such that he could move overseas if need be.

And yet, how sick -- how utterly sick, no pun intended -- that the U.S. healthcare system and insurance companies have reached a point that some Americans have no alternative but to seek treatment abroad to avoid the poorhouse. Not for elective or aesthetic treatment, mind you, but for necessary, life-saving treatment.

Thailand was a great choice for this little girl, by the way. The state-run hospitals might not be that great, I don't know. But the private hospitals, at least in Bangkok, provide services that would equal or surpass those available in the West, at a fraction of the cost.

What happens to all the ill U.S. Americans (as opposed to the other North Americans, the Canucks, who have a national health system) who have no way to get out and move to another country for affordable healthcare? It may be the home of the free (less so since the Patriot Act, etc) and land of the brave (excluding the Bush administration's most ardent civilian hawks, who all found ways to avoid the draft), but the United States is becoming, health-wise, the trap of the untended. It's a scandal.

Buns and Blogs

Behold, the image that spurred me to re-launch my hitherto untended blog. "Ham Cheese Chocolate Buns"! Yes, gentle reader, you read that right. Let's imagine how such an, erm, innovative creation evolved in the Tops supermarket bakery:

"Let's put in some ham. And cheese, too; those flavours go quite nicely together. So far, so good...but hang on, what else could we add to make this combination undeniably moreish? Oh, yes, of course! How could we not have thought of it earlier? Chocolate. Yes! That's it. A generous lashing of chocolate. What a winning trio of taste and texture! These buns will sell like hotcakes." (Hotcakes made with marzipan and anchovy paste, perhaps. -- Ed.)

Unfortunately the photo isn't very clear, but I'm lucky to have managed any shot at all, considering that a bakery staffer hustled over as soon as he saw me aim the camera. "No photos! Mai dai! Mai dai!" he exclaimed anxiously. The flash popped just as those words sputtered out of his mouth, but to respect his (or rather, Tops' corporate) wishes so that his supervisor wouldn't hear later that he let a crazy khon farang lady railroad him over snapping his lovely buns, and because I'd hate to get banned from my most convenient neighbourhood food source, I lowered the camera and took no other shots.

In Bangkok, traffic is bad enough and even Ham Cheese Chocolate Buns are not novel enough to risk banishment from the one supermarket within reasonable walking distance from my flat. There are, after all, limits to my quest for truth, justice, and the recording of Big Mango absurdity.

You may wonder, where on earth has BEM been, lo, these past 16 months? Where to start...where to start...well, I'll show you one big reason rather than tell you:

I've seen loads of blogs by women who parent, work, cook, bake, write books, take hikes, campaign against fur, run marathons, invent fantastic gadgets, knit, scrapbook, stay current with personal correspondence, and so on. Regrettably, that is so not me. Anyone who has crossed my path during any of my peripatetic life's many iterations, knows that I tend toward the slovenly. I cannot multi-task. I am a slacker. I mean well but usually forget to do nearly everything I sincerely intend to do unless it is vitally important to the immediate, urgent requirements of running my own little (messy, unorganised) home.

So when 2007 turned out to be a mad year, several things had to give, and one of them was the blog.

There's been no shortage of blog fodder, however. Funny and frustrating things about life here, our extended time in London, pregnancy, life since Boy #3 arrived, anger and despair over how the Bush administration continues to ruin and end lives in its war of choice, has dragged the U.S. into recession and built up an enormous deficit, plays the dunce about climate change (to humankind's peril), and further erodes the U.S.'s standing in the world...I could go on but I'd prefer not to end my return on a depressing note.

Hence...OBAMA '08!

A Wedding in Lilliput

(When Khun Kris emailed P this photo, he gamely noted, "You guys sure are TALL.") Tonight Himself and I attended the wedding reception at the Four Seasons for Khun Kris, with whom P used to work, and his gorgeous, poised new wife, Khun Kay. The affair was perfect in every way that counts at wedding celebrations: The yummy tapas-style food was plentiful and delectable, and the very nice wine flowed; the small live band played terrific covers of pop and progressive hits from the past 20 years; guests mingled cheerily and, on the whole, looked terrific in impeccably tailored Thai silk ensembles, sharp suits, glamorous traditional Indian outfits, etc.; the toasts by the bride, groom, and various VIPs blended humour and sentimentality; and -- last but not least -- even the gi-nor-mous wedding cake tasted good!

This was my fourth hi-so Thai wedding in five and a half years. I found, this evening, that this time I didn't feel as nervous about the protocol and, weirdly exemplifying the smallness of Bangkok's hi-so scene, I actually knew many people from P's work and previous weddings or other events, and had many acquaintances in common with those whom I met tonight thanks to my freelance work and...well, the smallness of Bangkok's hi-so scene. ("Smallness." Henh. It's obvious I'm an editor by trade, eh? Hey, I'm tired, lay off!) Knowing how deeply to wai according to someone's status is coming more naturally to me now. Odd how that happens. Maybe the examples I've seen over the years have gradually penetrated my subconscious so that in the moment, my hands and head find themselves more quickly rising (hands) and lowering (head) the right amount.

There were many opportunities to wai at this reception. VIPs in attendance tonight included the head of Siam Commercial Bank, who is the mother of one of P's former colleagues (who also happens to be a fellow Kellogg alumna); the head of Kasikorn Bank, who gave the official VIP-representative toast; the coup government's Finance Minister (an extremely dapper man in a red bow tie); a very cute Thai soap opera actor (Channel 7), who helped with translating all the English toasts into Thai (our gorgeous acquaintance Khun Bum [no snickering!] translated Thai toasts into English); the groom's dad, who is the first ever non-Singaporean to head SingTel; and endless bubble-haired dowagers and dignified older fellows whose faces dot the pages of "Thailand Tatler" and "Living in Thailand" magazines. Wow. The sycophantic star-fuc*er in me looked on in awe. (That written with self-aware irony, mind you.) Oh, and I forgot to mention the adorable children: Never have I seen so many tiny little ones decked out in mini-tuxedos and mini-Cinderella dresses. Even a pint-sized Batman was racing around the buffet tables. We left our smallfry at home because it's a school night, but with hindsight I'm sure that if we'd let them don their super-hero costumes, they would have had a grand time indeed at the party.

At one point (the only strange one of the evening) an exotically dressed woman with an intense gaze strode over to me and said, "Hi! Are you from here?", then proceeded to feel me out as a networking contact. She even royalty-dropped (instead of name-dropped) when I'd asked her what she does(boring, I know, but she seemed jazzed to network) and she replied, "Oh, lots of charity. I'm involved with many charities. Yesterday I worked with the princess all day!" I nearly asked which princess -- one of the King's daughters, perhaps Sirindhorn? the King's sister? the ex-wife of the Prince? -- but she was already onto the next topic. Come to think of it, she may not have been networking; she may have been simply a narcissistic chatterbox. Either way, I suppose I disappointed her in the potential biz contact and/or scintillating chat departments. After a few minutes she exclaimed, "Excuse me, I want to make sure that you meet Nash!" and dashed off to, presumably, Nash, whoever that is. Maybe one of her three brothers she'd mentioned? Anyway, that's a great tactic, much better than excusing onself to use the loo or grab more wine. "Hang on, I want to make sure you meet Nigel!" and then evaporating into the crowd. I like it.

Today required a lot of effort and energy from the bride and groom. Their elaborate Buddhist ceremony took place this morning. Photos from the event played out on wide-screen video monitors scattered throughout the reception tonight. I sure hope they had time to rest in the middle of the day, because for about two hours tonight, Khun Kris and Khun Kay had to stand at the entrance to the party and pose for photos with all guests, one at a time, as they arrived. The prolonged standing, the heat, the smiling, the popping flashbulbs, the greeting of many folks whose names they couldn't recollect in such a surreal context -- had I been in Khun Kay's exquisite shoes, I might have wigged out after about 30 minutes and run off through the lobby. Somehow they summoned enough stamina to handle all the greeting photos as well as a lengthy time on stage during all the toasts. They must be so knackered by now!

Khun Kris and Khun Kay make a wonderful couple. They adore each other but have been together long enough not to have any delusions about the reality of everyday life together. She stood by him when he abruptly decided a couple years ago to leave his steady job and start his own cartoon-orientated communications firm. Money wouldn't have been the issue (his Dad runs SingTel, remember), but some partners -- especially in the status-conscious hi-so world -- might have discouraged him from leaving an established, respected firm to follow a dream based on cartoons. But she did support him and, by the way, his company is doing very well. Good on them for taking a risk and making his dream a reality.

Frustration and Motivation

(Commenter TC: Please read the P.S. at the end of this post!)

Sigh. Let's see, where have I been for lo, these past three weeks? Plenty of cool and interesting and noteworthy things have been happening, but two main obstacles have prevented me lately from posting regularly.

Reason #1: Technical. My online ISP is the Telephone Organisation of Thailand, which provides excrutiatingly slow connections when the server's working...but it often isn't, making even the slow connection seem amazing by comparison. Very often I'll flop down after a long, productive day of romping around Bangkok and/or mommying, and the munchkins are tucked up cosily in bed, and I'm positively brimming with anecdotes and opinions to share...only to discover that I can't get online. Henh.

Of course I could still draft a post in word-processing mode, then post it later when the server's up. But I nearly always forget that option. Instead, wind taken out of my bloggy sails, I settle down to watch a pirated DVD or catch up on the stacks of reading awaiting my eyes. Not bad alternatives, but I ought to flex my writing muscles a little more often, no?

I've whinged on enough about TOT over recent months that readers might suppose, as I've got a personal vendetta by now against this poor, beleagured agency, that I should simply change ISPs. Well, it's not as simple as changing accounts. I've tried, and because TOT is a friggin' government agency, it only Scroogeishly doles out phone line concessions or whatever to private sector competition like True, KSC, and Buddy Broadband. The result is that at this point, no other ISPs can service my otherwise innocuous little subsoi in outer Sukhumvit. Dammit. I've called and called the other companies, begged and beseeched them, but they can't get a new phone line for my current address. Until we move in about four months, we're stuck with TOT and we're stuck with paying for 24/7 service but only enjoying roughly 10/4 service. So that's that. End of.

Reason #2: Mental. I've felt a little bit "Feh! Why bother?" lately at the end of days dotted with blog-worthy encounters of the Bangkok weird. (Believe me, this blog's fallow periods do not signify that life in the Land of Smiles has become quotidian. Perish the thought! Rest assured, you can still spot motorcycles here carrying, for instance, four family members, a computer monitor, and two chickens.) Nay, my blog seems to be suffering from a wee existential crisis.

Like, what is the point of Bangkok Expat Mama (BEM)? Lately it feels all over the road. But for which audiences am I writing? Have I described enough B, or is there too much E, and what about the M? Does the M part seem smarmy or charming, considering not all of my readers are parents? And where is the whole enterprise heading, anyway? I started the blog as a way for loved ones back home to see more of expat life here, but 18 months on, my most frequent commenters and visitors have proved, in fact, to be lovely people whom I've never met but who found the blog through Net searches. So...part of me feels slightly deflated that many of my fave, longest-running homies in the world still have no clue about my life (nor curiosity about other cultures -- or, to be fair, the time to investigate). And the other part of me enjoys entertaining strangers from hither and yon, especially when the blog helps people find information they need. (Readers have sent emails on quests ranging from bringing pet kitties into the Kingdom to hiring a baby car seat on Thai holiday, from hotel recommendations to recipe searches. I comply to the best of my ability.)

Call it a period of bloggy ennui. But just when I was poised to let the dang thing languish even further (i.e. yesterday), an email appeared from an assistant editor of the online component of National Geographic Traveler. She might mention my humble blog in a piece she's working on about Bangkok. Well, I declare! Suddenly a modicum of blog resolve has eturned: I'd better get crackin' on quirky Bangkok stories, restaurant shout-outs, traveling tips, etc., or else my 15 minutes of cyberspace celebrity might slip by. If I let the blog head south, the NG editor might change her mind and, Brahma forbid, mention The Lost Boy instead! (Well, I could deal with that cuz he's a good guy.)

So stick around, ladles and germs. Things could get interesting round here...

(Commenter TC: One of my dearest friends here runs the BAMBI [Bangkok Mothers & Babies International] website. [See Life in Thailand links in lefthand column.] Last week she told me that they've been having technical glitches while changing domains and doing all sorts of impressively complicated computer-y tasks I don't really grasp. She expects the site, at a new address still TBA, to be up and running next week. Meanwhile, good luck on your hunt for domestic help. I suggest checking Craigslist's Bangkok website; the notice boards at Villa Sois 33, 49, and 55; and newsletters for the large international schools in the area.)

The Dowager on Soi 2

This is the lobby of the Atlanta, an eccentric little hotel at the end of Sukhumvit Soi 2. Despite it's frozen-in-time lobby and restaurant (my Czech friend gasped and said, "I feel like I'm home[Prague]! This is just like home!" upon her visit), the Atlanta happens to be tech-savvy enough to offer free WiFi access to all comers. And they wisely chose a non-TOT ISP, which is why I've been sitting in their lobby this midday, nursing a pot of chocolate, with intentions of uploading Burma photos onto this blog -- something I can't do at home thanks to TOT's lameness.

But, to paraphrase Burns, the best-laid plans of mice and mummies often go astray.

I've got to leave in 15 minutes to pick up A from nursery, and how many photos have I uploaded and captioned? Zero. Zilch. Nada. Cuz I let myself get sucked into visiting other Typepad blogs I haven't been able to check from home in a few days thanks to TOT's...OK, you know where I'm going with this; I'm starting to sound like a broken tuk-tuk wheel that's just spinning round and round.

Maybe that's a good thing, though. I've spent so much time on political diatribes recently that this blog hasn't been living up to the "Bangkok" and "Mama" in its name. So today I'll try to make up for that a little.

As for "Bangkok", we've got the shout-out to the Atlanta. This place has terrific Thai food, as well as satisfying Western breakfasts, decent coffee, and dynamite homemade hot chocolate. The food is incredibly cheap for today's Bangkok. Despite the official hotel website's warnings that "outsiders" may not dine here or enter the premises, my friends and I have found that tipping generously (most staff are loyal long-timers) and a pleasant, respectful attitude (which one would employ anywhere, n'est-ce pas?) allow us access with no problem. I particularly enjoy lingering over a coffee by the pool, which happens to have been Bangkok's first hotel pool but, more relevant today, lies next to a lush garden inhabited by countless tame kitties and several tortoises.

Actually the kitties have free run of the whole place. No wonder I love hanging out here! (Note the furry bundle lounging on the divan in above photo.)

Rooms here are cheap, too, by this neighbourhood's standards. Friends who have stayed here tell me that the rooms are basic with a capital "B". At the Atlanta, however, the rooms are not the point. But after running around Bangkok all day, tourists usually care not a bit how fancy their room is. One comes here for the quirky ambience, convenient location, great food, reasonable rates, and the adorable cats who, in fact, run the show.

As for the "Mama" part, I'll report that apparently A's teacher has been teaching the kids (four-year-olds, mind you) yoga -- perhaps as part of an enlightened approach to holistic, New Age learning, but more likely, I suspect, in a desperate bid to settle a class of eight rambunctious boys (Mai, the only girl, just moved back to Japan). Yesterday morning A rolled out of bed and promptly stretched out on the floor and said, out of the blue, "N, let me teach you some yoga. I'm doing yoga, you see it? Now you do it, too, OK?"

As I puttered around with morning rituals (backpack? check! home-time bus snack for N? check! P.E. kit? check!), I could hear the impromptu yoga lesson continue.

"Flex, point. Flex, point. Flex, point...Now butterfly...Yah, N!...Now reach for the sky...Yah!" Giggling. "Let's do butterfly again."

So cute.

I probably won't have time to escape TOT non-Typepad world until Saturday because tomorrow will be flat-out chockers with mummy duties (helping out at N's school, the school Loy Krathong celebration, A pickup) then an interview for a freelance gig (the pastry chef of a four-star hotel, on the baked goodies they'll make for Christmas: Can you say, "free samples"? Mmm!). Burma photos coming soon...by American Thanksgiving if we're lucky.

Where Is Daw Aung San Suu Khyi?

This is 54/56 University Avenue, in Rangoon (Yangon), the capital of Burma (Myanmar). From over this gate, during the early years of her nearly 17 years of house arrest, Daw Aung San Suu Kyi would address brave members of the National League for Democracy political party as well as curious tourists and foreign supporters. Back then, the gate used to look like this (thanks to Amnesty Intl. for photo):
During most of the second near-decade of The Lady's (as she's sometimes called by her country's legions of admirers) house arrest, she has remained behind these gates with only the companionship of her housekeeper (an unsung hero in her own right) and receiving monthly check-ups by a state-approved physician.

No wonder the gates are rusting away and foliage seems rapidly to be flourishing into jungle. Two middle-aged women are living there in isolation, trying to keep their wits about them as day after day passes with no end or change in sight. Who cares if weeds overtake the un-used garage? Basic survival and sanity retention, not keeping up appearances a la Hyacinth Bucket, must be the main focus for these two remarkably stalwart people.

Rumour has it that the junta forbid Suu Kyi this summer from tending the garden in any way, as if she or her maid had much energy at this point to hack at weeds anyway. Why would the junta care about the garden? Well, they have a track record with niggling over seemingly innocuous issues, for one thing, but also snakes and mosquitoes simply adore lurking in dense undergrowth. The loonytunes bastards in charge might think, what the heck? If decades of incarceration and isolation can't smoke out The Lady, perhaps a deadly viper or dengue fever could do the trick.

But at this point, is she even there?

The compound's derelict state alone doesn't prompt my doubt. But two other reference points make me fear for her whereabouts -- as if languishing in one's home for years on end, with nil contact with one's family or compatriots, is all that stellar either.

First point is that a Myanmar friend in Bagan believes, based on what he saw at 54 University Avenue while visiting Yangon five months ago, that she has been moved. He drove by in a taxi and noticed no security in front of the residence. Nor did the taxi driver hesitate to slow down so that our friend could get a good look at the compound. When he reported this to his Yangon relatives, they said that some people suspect the Tatmadaw have slacked off on guarding The Lady's house because she's no longer there.

Second point is our own experience when we drove by the domicile-cum-prison. Our taxi driver, who picked us up at Yangon's airport to take us into town during our layover on the way home, didn't flinch upon our request to cruise University Avenue. As we approached 54/56, we drove under a permanently raised traffic barrier manned by a single bored soldier (no gun in sight, although probably lurking under his desk) who gave us not a second glance.

Himself had a somewhat different experience six years ago. His attempt to stroll up University Avenue met with gruff resistance from automatic weapon-wielding soldiers. No way, no how was this foreigner going to get anywhere within 200m of Suu Kyi's gate...because she was there, and preventing contact between her and the outside world is the m.o. of her captors. So how else to explain the checkpoint's present lassitude other than...they've moved her somewhere else and are fiercely guarding that place instead? I never thought I'd hope that The Lady is in her house, because she should be free to go anywhere, but her own (decaying, decrepit) home is better than -- God forbid -- Insein.

Searching the Internet, however, has yielded no references to the Tatmadaw moving her. I hope my suspicions and those of our friend's family are wrong. If Suu Kyi is indeed still passing her days at home, perhaps the Tatmadaw merely relaxed the checkpoint after attempted visits waned due to so many years of hardcore prevention. Or maybe they decreased their visible presence after installing snipers in nearby trees.

Sounds paranoid? We're talking about the Burmese junta. They've thrown people in jail for telling jokes. They routinely enlist children to toil -- unpaid, as insult to grievous injury -- on army projects. So snipers in trees? Maybe not as weird as it sounds.

Tomorrow: Reflections on and photos of the lovely people we spent time with during our trip. The ordinary, regular, non-Tatmadaw people of Burma who are just like the rest of us, trying to do the best they can for their children and their community, scratching out an existence in an economy under perpetual slump, savouring life's simple pleasures and surely appreciating them more than do many luckier folks. (Including moi. What a reality check.)

Oh, Bloody Hell!

Pardon the language, gentle readers, but T.O.T. (that's the Telephone Organisation of Thailand) are testing my nerves again. So far I'm losing the battle to keep "jai yen".

Here I am, freshly returned from Burma, positively brimming with stories to share, bursting with political postulations (not least of which is, where the hell is Daw Aung San Suu Kyi?! What I saw when cruising past her house in Yangon makes me suspect she's under plain "arrest", no longer "house arrest" -- but more on that later), and fairly staggering under loads of photos to put in a bloggy photo album, but thanks to more T.O.T. idiocy, I can't access anything remotely Typepad (my blog's host) from home via my T.O.T. server.

Hence my sitting in the True Life coffee shop-cum-daytime-rave on Thong Lo. In an effort to project a uber-inter-trendy-lifestyle ambience, True have tricked the place out with Jetson-themed furniture built for midgets -- oy, my aching back! -- while they make sure the soundtrack can compete with Club Astra on a Saturday night. How can anyone get any work done around here? So harrumph-eth the 30-something farang lady who can't blog from home. The coffee menu looks intriguing, though. Next time, when I'm not in a hurry to fetch Master A from nursery, I'll try a Peppermint Peddy latte. (I stared at that one for a while before realising the menu means Peppermint "Patty", like the Peanuts cartoon heroine or the American sweet.)

Why am I so sure there will be a next time, during which I'll try the Peddy?  T.O.T. has blocked Typepad before, and it wasn't brief. Starting the afternoon of 19 Sept. -- that date sound familiar, old Thailand hands? -- and lasting for about 10 days, T.O.T. blocked all things Typepad from its servers. I couldn't access the host site to work on my blog, nor any blogs at all that are hosted by Typepad. My calls to the service center met with the telephony equivalent of blank stares. Then, after 10 days of alternating between tearing my hair out and paying for online time at Internet cafes with non-T.O.T. servers (i.e. True, KSC, Linksys, etc.), which really irritated me as we already pay a monthly fee for service at home -- then, suddenly, when I idly decided to torture myself by trying for the gazillionth time to access a preferred Typepad blog such as Dim Sum Mum's, I discovered that access had returned.

Well, let's hope that this time round's blocking doesn't last as long as 10 days...or else BEM may finally, indubitably go irrevocably, certifiably mad! Either way, from home if access returns or from this cafe/disco if not, I'll upload some photos tomorrow and divulge the highlights from Burma.

Until then, jai yen...deep breaths...ommmm...

Off to Burma

Luckily my decision to return early to Bangkok after a bizarre virus-y thing felled me proved a good idea. By yesterday afternoon I felt about 80 percent normal, and this morning I feel okey-dokey -- which is particularly a good thing considering I've got to leave in half an hour to fly to Burma, which, the way the Walter Clan do it, is not exactly a restful endeavour.

The beach scene, the wildly expensive luxury boat ride down the Irrawaddy, the lying-on-cushions-while-a-pukkawallah-fans-us gig, we don't do that. It's too expenisve and feels inappropriately over the top, considering who profits most directly from the more chi-chi tourism (i.e. the SPDC), and the kids would get bored. Nah. We ride around in horse carts and kick balls around with our little guys and local kids, wake up to see sunrise and then never get a nap because our kids are too jazzed and so on. So it's interesting and gratifying and inspiring in many ways, but active enough that embarking while ill would be discouraged.

Alas, Suvarnabhumi presents its own physical challenges not for the faint-hearted, as I discovered after my last-minute flight back from Khon Kaen. The flight itself took only 45 minutes in the air. Then we landed at Bangkok's new airport. We waited on the stuffy airplane for 15 minutes for a stairway to arrive at our spot in the middle of the tarmac (I had mistakenly believed that part of the point of the new, bigger airport would be to eliminate TG's annoying stairway/bus-to-terminal scheme); then, by the time my section descended from the plane, we had to wait another five minuted for a second bus to arrive as the first had filled up and left already. Once on the bus we drove for 10 minuted before actually arriving at a door to the terminal. So, in review, we needed 45min to fly from Isaan to Bangkok, and 30min to get from the plane to the terminal.

We passengers then dutifully filed inside, walked about 30m up a slippery, marble-tiled incline, and turned left toward two escalators waiting to take us up to baggage claim, taxis, etc. -- only to find that both escalators were broken and immobile. Sigh. Up we trudged.

See you in about a week. Happy hols, everyone!

A Home More Than an Orphanage

Reared and educated as an Anglican, I've felt conflicted about organised religion for many years because, as a glass-half-empty person, I usually associate the idea with sowing division, promulgating guilt, and forcing belief systems on others. But visiting House of Mercy in Khon Kaen, which was founded by pastors from an Assemblies of God church, reminded me of the lessons that Jesus and His spiritual colleagues have tried to teach us, the lessons that frequently have been warped and twisted beyond recognition by many people who claim to be spreading His/Their word, yet are doing quite the opposite.

But as much as Jesus weeps every time, say, a self-proclaimed "Christian" parent rejects his child for coming out, I suspect He grins whenever contemplating this little orphanage. This is what He was talking about. The loving atmosphere at House of Mercy enveloped us as soon as we walked through the gate into the garden. The 39 children -- orphans who not only lost their mothers to HIV/AIDS (their fathers usually have never been around at all), but also live with the disease themselves -- are blooming with affection and cheekiness like any kids their age. This place is a home, not an institution.

A Kiwi woman named Angela Reynolds leads a staff of Thai locals and volunteers from Oz and New Zealand. A volunteer herself, Angela calls her past several years of helping the children a "life-changing experience". The loving efforts of Angela and her team are changing, improving, I daresay extending the lives of these precious children. I saw one Thai carer gently rubbing a salve into a tiny girl's scalp, then tenderly comb her hair. Angela was like a human trellis, considering how often kids would wander over and ask to be picked up for a cuddle. It's not all hugs, though: Angela acknowledges that the teenagers can be quite a handful -- a universal condition, one that I'll be dealing with in about five more years!

HIV/AIDS still carries an ugly stigma in Thailand. Some locals, however, drop off donations at the gate but are too afraid to enter due to prevailing ignorance about how HIV/AIDS actually spreads. Apparently many Thais believe that these children were born with the disease as karma for bad things they did in a previous life; if they suffer valiantly this time round, maybe they will come back in their next life as, say, children without the virus. I see it as a raw deal, an example of the frightening randomness of human existence.

Unfortunately I had to cut this trip short because I came down with some weird sore throat/fever thing. We spent our first late afternoon, after driving down, with the kids and then had dinner at the Kiwi Cafe with Angela and Ros's friend Dr Thom, a women's cancer specialist from Khon Kaen University. By then, my throat was killing me, but I told myself that all I needed was a good night's sleep to feel fit as a fiddle for the next morning's art workshop with the kids. The next morning, however, I could barely get out of bed. I decided to fly back that afternoon because the prospect of spending all day in bed and then driving back the next day (we'd planned on sidetrips as well, during which I would have languished in the van in misery) seemed ghastly indeed.

Leaving early, without getting to bat around the balloon again with spritely Pam, or letting Oi chat with Pedro again on my mobile, and without learning more Thai from assertive little Som-O, wasn't such a terrible wrench because we're going back in December during the Annual Walter Familiy Exodus to Isaan. I can't wait to see the children again and to introduce my two to the gang. Already I can picture Nathan and Alec, totally intimidated by the unknown situation, finding themselves gradually letting down their guard and before they know it, having such a blast with their new friends that they won't want to leave when it's time. I didn't collect for this trip (but my Aussie friend Alisen did pass me two huge bags of goods, so I made sure the ANZWG ladies knew they were Alisen's donations, not mine), but I will for the December visit.

We are definitely signing up to sponsor at least one child. Each child needs about five sponsors, due to the high costs of HIV/AIDS care, but most of House of Mercy's orphans aren't fully sponsored yet. I can vouch after looking around, talking with the volunteers, and most importantly, observing the children's thriving behaviour, that sponsoring a child through House of Mercy will bring joy and good health to a deserving little someone. Please check out their website if you're interested.

While we're on the topic of sponsoring and philanthropy, my friend Teresa in Oregon is fewer than 100 days away from her journey to Vietnam and Thailand. This intrepid single mum and her two kids will be helping orphans in both countries. I admire Teresa's vision and her commitment to bringing up her children as humane citizens of the world. Somehow she manages to run the household, pursue her own university studies, host international exchange students, AND plan for the Big Trip East. Hats off to Teresa -- I can't wait to welcome her to the Land of Smiles!