Sunday, August 9, 2015

Our original concept for the stopover in Seoul was simple: we were using Korean Air, whose hub is in Seoul. Why not get off the airplane, break up the return flights so that we would not be so exhausted, and spend a day and night in Seoul? We probably should have thought a little harder about that “not being exhausted” part. On the day before, we had gotten up before dawn for our aborted sunrise Angkor Wat experience, and the day was busy after that. Our intent was to sleep on the overnight flight between Siem Reap and Seoul, but we did not get in the air until 11:25 PM. The flight was less than five hours in duration, hardly time to get a good night’s sleep. Then there was a two hour time difference between Siem Reap and Seoul, so while we hit the ground at 6:35 AM, it felt like 4:35 AM to us. Not our best plan.

The Koreans let you know right off the bat how the toilets are supposed to work in their modern city.

We met our guide, a lovely lady whose “western handle” was Inis, and began our tour immediately. She told us that our hotel would not be ready until mid-afternoon so we had some time to kill. Our itinerary had listed five different activities, but we knew right off the bat that this would be too ambitious. We asked her to explain them in more detail and we picked our top three.

The drive from Incheon Airport into the heart of Seoul took about an hour. Ines could see that we were fried, so she let us ride into town in silence. Genene put her head down and caught a few zzz’s. I think Greg and I did the same. We stopped first at a Starbucks-like coffee shop in the central city and got some strong coffee and pastries. We were surprised to find that English is not as commonly spoken here as it is in Thailand and Cambodia, but there was English on the posted menus. We were able to point at what we wanted and soon the caffeine was coursing through our veins. Even Genene got a cup of java.

Our first tourist stop was Cheongye Plaza, located at the starting point of the “restored” Cheonggyecheon Stream. The public space is actually an urban renewal project. After the Korean War, this area developed so rapidly that the original stream was covered up by transportation infrastructure. The government spent over $900 million to “rebuild” the dried-up stream, pumping water from the Han River up to the new headwater. The water flows back down to the Han, the ultimate in recycling. The project was very controversial when it opened in 2005 but has become a popular meeting place and recreational area for Korean people. It’s a bit like their version of Memorial Park, a place to stroll and run, to see and be seen.

Our second stop was Gyeongbok Palace, where we were just in time to see the ceremonial changing of the guard. The palace was originally built by the first Yi Dynasty King, Taejo (circa 1395), and it served as a royal residence for nearly 200 years. Sadly, the original palace was destroyed by fire in the late 1500’s, and the area was abandoned until the 1800’s, when it was rebuilt. The Japanese came along in the early 20th century and wrecked it again, but the Koreans are gradually restoring the palace complex buildings to their original forms and locations.

There is no more monarchy, and South Korea is a constitutional republic, complete with three branches of government and a president. The guard changing ceremony is strictly ceremonial. It was colorful and beautiful on this fine morning.

Some young people had a display of “One Dream One Korea”, their dream for the reunification of the Koreas. They asked us to leave our handprints and a message. We left them our best wishes from the US. We hope they achieve their lofty goal, though it seems unlikely in this political climate.

At long last, Ines got word that our hotel room was ready. I hated that we were not doing this great modern city justice, but we were all just exhausted and wanted a nap. We were staying near the DDP at the Shilla, and it took only a few minutes to arrive. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie stay in the Presidential Suite at the Shilla when they are in Seoul. We are not so fancy: ordinary people get an ordinary room.

The lobby area at the Shilla had at least 100 people in it, and I am not exaggerating. I felt like I had arrived late to the AWBD summer conference check-in. We noticed that there was a man stationed at each of the revolving doors with a camera pointed at everyone walking in. Turns out the cameras were infrared scanners. South Korea has had an outbreak of the viral disease Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS), and the hotel was taking no chances. If the camera picked up the fact that someone had fever, they weren’t getting into the hotel. I thought it was a sensible precaution.

Ines helped us to navigate through the checkin, and we were soon in our nicely appointed room. Ines gave us some advice on where to have dinner and told us that she would see us in the morning and take us to the airport. She took leave of her walking dead clients.

We wasted no time taking a shower and getting into our skivvies. We discovered to our delight that our room had one of those fancy Korean Smartlets, also known as the smart toilet. It had more buttons than an Amish woman’s dress.

This was the view from our room.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Our day began early. Inis and the driver met us at the hotel at 6:00 AM. We would have to get breakfast in the airport. The return trip to Incheon Airport took about an hour, and we passed over the mudflats. Ines described General Douglas MacArthur’s bold move during the Korean War to launch an amphibious attack at Incheon. Other UN generals expressed serious misgivings, because Incheon’s terrain was unforgiving. The entrances to Incheon were narrow and therefore easily mined. The water became mudflats during low tide and could easily trap a vessel. MacArthur explained that because the area was so heavily defended, the enemy would not expect an attack there. A victory in this northern strong point would cut off North Korean supply and communication lines, and a brutal winter campaign could be avoided. MacArthur got his way, and the attack was a success. Seoul was eventually recaptured by the South after a protracted land battle. Everyone knows how the story ends: with two Koreas. Those in the South are grateful to MacArthur that they have their democracy because without the battle at Incheon, the North Koreans might have won it all.

During some part of her discussion, Ines had mentioned “our brothers in the North.” Greg questioned her about this, saying: “Do you really think of them as your brothers?” Her answer was unwavering and unequivocal: “Oh yes, they are, quite literally, our brothers and sisters. Their government is stupid, and they are its victims, but they are our people.” She went on to describe, in moving detail, the issue of family separation between North and South Korea. I had never thought about this before. North and South Korea are technically not at peace; all these years later, they are at “cease fire.” When the borders closed between the two countries, entire families were cruelly separated. Husbands who had gone south for work and left their wives and children back north could not return. Siblings were separated from each other. Sons and daughters were separated from their parents. These people have not seen their families since the early 1950s! An effort was undertaken a few years ago to schedule family reunions. The government of North Korea is the sticking point. When the program began, 130,000 people applied for the chance at a family reunion. Getting the North Korean government to agree to a reunion is tricky, so they do not occur even once a year. When they do, the North Korean government grants only 100 applications. The reunion must take place in North Korea, for obvious reasons. If the good citizens of the North ever got the opportunity to go South, they might not go back. Ines explained that they know from intelligence that those families from the North who are selected are carefully “trained” in what to say and how to act. They must leave at least 1/3 of the food that is offered to them (to illustrate that they are not starving). They learn to repeat “I love it in North Korea.” They are given a new suit to wear so that they look presentable. Meetings are in large hotel banquet hall settings and are often awkward because the North Koreans know they are being watched by their government and even filmed. The people are getting very old, and their parting wish is often something along these lines: “Take care of yourself so that you can live until we can see each other again, when our country is one.” Ines showed us some youtube videos of the reunions, and they are heartbreaking to watch. The family members, now in their 80’s and 90’s, are together for a few hours before they are separated again, and they embrace and sob pitifully.

For the third time on this trip, I had tears in my eyes. I thought I wasn’t a crier! Greg cries at the Folger’s coffee Christmas commercial, so he was a complete goner. The tears were rolling down his face. As we got to the airport, Ines apologized for telling us such a sad story. We told her it was a perfect story. We come to foreign countries to learn about the people, whose lives are often so different from our own. The stories are not always happy ones, but they are real and meaningful.

The Korean Air representative in Siem Reap had given us a set of boarding passes for Seoul to Houston, and this turned out to be a huge boon. The checkin line was massive, but because we were already checked in, we got to go straight to the bag check line, which was much more manageable. Ines waited with us until we got the bags dropped. Incheon uses a slightly different procedure for checking bags. I am accustomed to simply dropping bags off and then racing toward the xray machines and gates. Incheon asks that you wait in a separate area for 5 minutes until your checked bags are inspected. In this way, if they find something they need to discuss with you in your checked bags, you are still close by. We waited the 5 minutes, and our name was not called, so Ines told us it was fine to proceed on to the gate.

While we waited, we commented to Ines on how well we had been treated by Korean Air and how beautiful their flight attendants are. She verified my suspicions: the ladies are selected based upon a beauty and style standard. They must wear their uniforms and their hair a certain way until they get inside their own home. The women are highly sought after by the men in South Korea, and it is a big brag if your girlfriend is an attendant for Korean Air. Boyfriends must take their women to and from the airport, and Ines says you can see the gaggles of men waiting outside. If the men do not treat their Korean Air women right, they can be “easily replaced.”

We said our goodbyes, and she taught Genene the Korean word for it. We made it to the gate in time for some pastries and hot coffee. The flight back was uneventful. We had another chance for bibimbop, which Greg took but I passed on. I had it in Seoul!

We left Seoul at 9:30 AM on Monday morning and after 13+ hours of flying, we arrived in Houston at 8:30 AM on Monday. We got back before we left! Global Entry was a breeze, although we got diverted to Agriculture because we disclosed that we had been in contact with farm animals. The Agriculture department was dead on Monday morning, and it took only a little time for them to xray our bags to make sure we weren’t bringing in a dead chicken or a pig’s foot. We stepped out into the Houston heat (which seemed like nothing) and grabbed an Uber ride from a young man who looked like he had been chugging Red Bull all night. He drove well though, and his car was clean and air conditioned. I have found Uber rides to be much superior to cab rides in Houston. I have been on many dangerous, hot, careening cab rides in our fair city, and Uber seems tame in comparison. It’s cheaper too!

We were home by midmorning, and Nala the wonderdog greeted us with squeals and whines of delight. The cats meowed incessantly and rubbed around our legs. I spent the rest of the day doing laundry, deleting or managing the 1300 work emails that came in while I was gone, and preparing for work. I will go in tomorrow morning and start “being real” again.

BACKTRACKING ON THE ELEPHANTS

I usually take my blogs in chronological order, but I have to go back to the elephant camp for a moment. Thai Elephant Camp had a photographer following us on our rides, and at the end we got a fully loaded DVD. I blog from an iPad, so I did not have access to the images until we returned stateside. Some of them are really good, so I must share. Also, because I am the photographer, I do not appear in the blog much, so these photos are a special treat for me (and my parents).

Here’s our Day 1 crew. I’ll leave you to identify the honeymooners, the French and the California boys.

PARTING THOUGHTS:

What more can I say? A 16 part blog with hundreds of photos–maybe I should just shut up.

No way! It’s time for random observations.

Things that tickle: elephant kisses and fish spas.

Immigration officials can ruin your day in a heartbeat.

The man reading the paper is always the boss.

Tea that is designed to “restore balance” to your body will taste like crap.

Planting rice is backbreaking work.

Smart toilets are fun!

Thai massages hurt.

A Bangkok driver needs 10 eyes.

An elephant makes a big poop.

Men can go to war over a two-foot tall jade statue.

Red ants and beef are delicious.

Roaches crawling on your feet are not fun.

Mangosteens are the second best fruit in the world, right behind the Arkansas Elberta peach.

It’s Myanmar, not Burma!

I would be remiss if I did not mention our travel agents at Asia Transpacific Journeys. We decided to interview them after researching on the internet. We exchanged emails and had one phone conversation with their consultant, Jen Boyd. She asked us detailed questions about what kind of travelers we are and what our expectations were. After that, she produced the initial itinerary, which wowed us immediately. It was just what we wanted! We never interviewed any other companies. When someone “gets you,” you go with it! Their services were first rate in every way. We never had to wonder what was going to happen next. Every guide and driver showed up on time and in place. If you want professionals to customize a journey to Asia for you, I recommend them whole-heartedly. http://www.asiatranspacific.com/

Genene is getting ready to start middle school in two days. She is going to Awty International School, which will be a big sea-change from life at our local public elementary school where she happily spent the last six years. Awty is popular with the expat community, and people from more than 50 nations attend the school. I hope Genene’s travels will stand her in good stead at Awty. We are all very nervous and excited about the changes. Can vacation help with education? I know it certainly is a lot of fun, but maybe she is learning something too, if only how to say hello in several languages.

Back to our journey for just a moment: the people we met along the way were so friendly and warm. In particular, the Cambodians keep sticking in my mind. How can they greet everyone with such warm, friendly and open faces when the scar of genocide is still so fresh? They speak of it openly, in the hope that it can never happen again. I hope and pray they are right.

Will I buy another shirt made in Thailand? I’m sure that I will, but I will never do it again without thinking of the man who sews them day in and day out.

As for Amparo and Polo, “We’ll always have Siem Reap.” (I love Casablanca.)

I hope that someday Korea can be one so that all the torn families can be reunited.

I hope that Borin gets his house.

I hope that TJ remembers me when I come to ride her again.

Sawadee kha!

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Saturday, August 8, 2015

Our schedule called for sunrise at Angkor Wat, and we were excited that the big day had finally arrived. Unfortunately, no one told the weatherman about our excitement. We awoke at 4:30 AM to a driving rain, complete with thunder and lightning. We had no idea what our guide would do so we continued getting dressed so that we could be ready to depart by 5:00 AM. Ten minutes before five, Borin called and told us to go back to bed. It was a frog-strangler, and there was no point in getting out in it. The sunrise would not be visible, and it was lightning. We made a new plan. He told us we would reconvene after breakfast at 8:00 AM and head straight over. We were disappointed not to see the iconic sunrise at Angkor Wat, but we knew we had come to Cambodia in the monsoon season. This is not the high season for tourists in Thailand and Cambodia, but it’s when we could come. With Genene in school, we have to take our vacations in the summer. The off season does have its charms. Crowds are not as large. The afternoon rain cools things down. Everything is very green. Anyway, we weren’t going out in monsoon rains, so we shucked off our clothes and went back to bed. Genene was happy to do so. When she was younger, she popped out of bed every morning with the sun. She’s not quite a teenager now, but she seems to require sleep like one.

After breakfast at the hotel, Borin and the driver picked us up on the dot at 8. The rain had stopped, so our fortunes were improving. On the way out of town, we passed by the Royal Gardens in the heart of Siem Reap. Borin had the driver stop so that he could show us the thousands of fruit bats hanging from the trees. The trees looked alive with the squirming creatures, and you could hear the squealing, squeaking noise quite clearly from the ground. This photo is not great because my camera lens was completely fogged up from the humid morning. Most days started this way. The camera stayed in nice air conditioned comfort all night (as did we), and when I took the lens camp off each morning, I had to wait about 5-7 minutes for the condensation to dissipate.

It took only a few minutes to get to Angkor Wat, and we already had our three-day pass to the monuments so we drove right up to the entrance. We were in the thick of things with the Saturday tourists, but Angkor Wat is so large it can accomodate a crowd. In fact, by some measures, it is the largest religious complex in the world. The temple complex is rectangular, and the dimensions are 0.9 miles by 0.8 miles. The central sandstone monument occupies only 5% of that area. The rest of the area within the moat and wall is today largely forested. Archeologists are using LIDAR data in Cambodia and have determined that the inner city area was once covered by wooden galleries and pavilions, long since reclaimed by the jungle.

The moat is 620 feet wide, and the excavated soil was used to make the imposing mountain temple. Unlike other Khmer wats, Angkor Wat faces west into the setting sun. There are several theories about why this was done: one theory holds that it was faced toward the former capital city. Another theory holds that the temple was dedicated to Vishnu, who is sometimes associated with the west. The most commonly accepted theory is that King Suryavarman II, who commissioned the temple, built it as his tomb or funerary. Thus it would face west toward the setting sun, symbolizing his death. Its western orientation is what makes the sunrise visit so attractive to photographers.

We approached from the west, climbing the steps of the cross-shaped naga terrace and onto the causeway.

Angkor Wat represents the height of Angkor civilization. King Suryavarman II ruled from 1112 to 1152, and the elaborate temple was built during his reign. According to Borin, the Angkor Wat complex took only 37 years to build. It is a source of great pride to the Cambodian people, and an image of Angkor Wat appears on their national flag.

The building survived the country’s civil strife with a few bullet holes.

Though highly skilled, the Khmer architects did not discover the self-supporting arch that the Romans used. They used corbelling to span the spaces, placing successive blocks 1/4 to 1/3 of their length projecting inward until the two sides met. Consequently, arches are narrow, and the roof is heavy.

Borin took us back into Siem Reap for lunch at a local restaurant. Our waiter loved practicing his English with us. In fact, he stood at our table for much of the meal, asking us questions and talking to us. One time, another waitress came and shooed him away but he found his way back. He told us that he has used Google to teach himself enough French, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese and English so that he could communicate with all the tourist customers. I admired his industry. He also wanted us to know that he does not like Cambodia’s prime minister and all the young people want change. Their prime minister has been in power since 1998, and elections are held, though they are not free and fair. Change is coming to Cambodia. I am not sure what variety.

I’ll just have one beer with lunch:

After lunch, we went for an afternoon tour of Tonle Sap, the largest lake in southeast Asia. The freshwater lake is innundated every year by the Mekong River. The Tonle Sap River is 75 miles long and connects the lake to the Mekong. During the monsoon season, the Mekong River grows larger and feeds water down the Tonle Sap River and into the lake. During the dry season, the Tonle Sap River reverses course and drains the lake. The lake is 1,000 square miles during the dry season and swells to 6,200 square miles. The rich sediment pouring in with the river provided opportunities for farming to the Angkor people 1,000 years ago and still does so today. The river brings fish as well.

There are floating villages along the banks of the Tonle Sap, and the villages must move as the lake moves.

We caught one of these boats and headed out onto the water.

Borin returned us to our hotel in the late afternoon. Our flight will leave at 11:25 PM (ugh!) so he will be back to pick us at 9:00 PM. The hotel staff welcomed us “home” for the last time with the cold, moist towels. The manager came forward, called us all by name, and asked us what we had seen and done. I guess he couldn’t really cope with Genene’s first name, so he called her by her middle name: “Katherine, how was your day? Did you see Angkor Wat?” At first, Genene was looking around because she wasn’t sure he was talking to her. I loved the staff there. They were so attentive and friendly.

As we walked up our stairs, the little souvenir plate slipped out of Genene’s hands and crashed to the floor, breaking into a dozen pieces. In that moment, I saw my little baby girl again. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and mine did too. It was just a piece of junk, but she really liked it. I hugged her in the stairway and told her I was sorry…and then, just like that, the little baby was gone. Her face cleared, and she began to pick up the pieces. “Maybe Dad can glue it together.” I remember wishing for her to be more grown up. Now sometimes, I wish she were my baby again.

We got most of our packing done. It had been a long day, starting with the aborted sunrise wakeup. We were tired and decided to take dinner in the hotel. We had not dined with them except for breakfast. Dinner was delightful, and we even ordered desserts.

Borin and the driver arrived right on time at 9:00 PM, and we were off to the airport. My last memory of the Shinta Mani was of the manager and all footmen lined up at the entry, their heads bowed and hands clasped respectfully in the Sampeah until we pulled away and were out of sight.

Borin told us he had no gift for us except for our memories. That will be enough. He asked if we would remember him and I assured him that we certainly would. He wanted to know when we would be back. I told him honestly that I didn’t know but I hoped it would be sooner rather than later. He said, “I would love to visit you in America, but it is not possible. I will be here when you return. Perhaps a little older. Perhaps I will have a home of my own by then.” I hope that he does.

We got to the airport within a half hour, and Borin took us as far as he could and we said our goodbyes and handed him his tip. We started inside, and it just didn’t feel right. We turned back around and went back to hug him. (Greg settled for the manly handshake, but Genene and I hugged him long and hard.) I cried when we left the elephants. I cried when we left Borin. He is a special young man. I hope his dreams of being a lawyer and having a place of his own do come true.

We are taking the red-eye to Seoul, where we have one more day and night of exploration before we must return to Houston. South Korea, here we come!

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Friday, August 7, 2015

Our day began very early at 5:20 AM. Borin and the driver picked us up at the hotel and carried us a short distance to the monestery. We were in for a special treat: we would get to hear the monks chanting at sunrise and receive a blessing from them. We arrived at the temple at first light.

I did not want to disrespect the religious nature of the ceremony or spoil the experience by snapping pictures the entire time. Genene says that I do enough of that as it is. She gets tired of being photographed. I limited myself to a couple of shots before and after the ceremonies.

The monks were already in place and chanting when we arrived.

We removed our shoes and sat at the back of the room. About 60 monks sat on the floor, feet behind them. Our guide taught us to respect Buddha by three prostrations: you start in a prayer position and then bow to put palms to the ground three times. After each bow, hands are returned to the prayer position. It is disrespectful to turn one’s feet toward the Buddha, so the proper way to sit is with knees folded and feet extending backwards on one side of your butt or the other. It’s easy work for Genene, but I’m not 11 anymore and that position is pretty hard on the knees. I need to do some yoga! We eventually found a reasonably comfortable position.

The ceremony continued as if we were not there. One monk seemed to be delivering advice to the others, who listened respectfully. This is only my guess, as my Khmer repertoire is limited to “hello” and “thank you.” After a time, the lead monk began chanting, and everyone followed. It was very rhythmic and almost musical. You could easily lose yourself while listening. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It only lasted a couple of minutes, and I was sorry when it was over, for I could have listened to it much longer. The monks rose to their feet and quickly exited the room. Some of them looked in our direction, and all faces were open and friendly but they did not linger.

I snapped one photo of them leaving to start their day.

The three monks sat down at the front of the room facing us. The one in the center spoke good English and told us the meaning of the blessing we were about to receive. When Cambodians embark on any kind of new venture–building a home, starting a business, getting married–it is important to receive the blessing of the monk to drive out any evil spirits. Gifts are given to the monks by those requesting a blessing. The gift is given on behalf of oneself and one’s ancestors. Borin explained that we each needed to crawl forward one by one to present the gifts. We were not to touch the monks. We simply needed to make a show of taking the gift and pushing it forward toward the monk. One by one we did so and crawled backwards to our places.

The monks gave us a blessing in return. The three of them chanted in unison for three to four minutes as we sat in a respectful, prayer-like pose. The monk in the center had a bowl of holy water with him, and he dipped a stick into the water from time to time and flung holy water on us as they chanted. After they stopped chanting, we were asked to come forward one by one. The center monk tied a small red string around our wrists and said a blessing. Monks are not allowed to touch a woman, and I noted that he managed to tie my string and Genene’s without breaking the rules. Afterwards, they told us that the blessing roughly translated as one for prosperity, good health, and “to get rid of evil.” They allowed us to ask a few questions, and we discussed the life of a monk and the various lengths of service: most men serve as a monk at least once. Some are only a monk for a few days, while others choose to be a monk for life. They asked if we would like to have our photos made with them, and they even suggested the pose.

We were finished by 6:15 and drove the short distance back to the hotel. One thing we are coming to love about Siem Reap is how compact it is. It seems to take no more than 20 minutes to get to the sites. Most restaurants are within easy walking distance. It feels wasteful to have our big air conditioned van, when most things are a short tuk-tuk ride away. That said, I love the convenience of having the driver waiting for us. He carries cold, moist towels in a igloo between the two front seats and hands them to us anytime we have been out in the sun. Ah, the life. Anyway, he and Borin returned us to the hotel, where we had breakfast and prepared for the next part of our tour. We got some strong cups of coffee so that we would be ready for our day.

Borin and driver returned to pick us up at 8:00 AM and we hit the open road. We traveled to the remote Cambodian countryside to see the work of the Cambodian-Dutch Organization, a non-profit that works on community development projects. Their headquarters were modest, to say the least:

We stopped to pick up our local guide, and he showed us the living quarters for the volunteers. The volunteers are typically Dutch and German. They stay for a week or more teaching English to the local children. They are roughing it. This is their sleeping room:

The teacher continued with her instruction as if we weren’t there:

Our next stop was the Cambodian-Dutch hospital, a very basic structure. The hospital provides medical services to people in the countryside, particularly giving assistance to mothers in labor.

This “ambulance” is a specially painted tuk-tuk, with a wide bench on one side on which to lay the patient, and a smaller bench on the other side for the family members to ride. Our guide told us that this tuk-tuk often means the difference between life and death in the countryside. Before it, people had to make a litter and find enough people to carry the sick person to the nearest hospital.

Before we left, Greg needed to use the restroom. There were bathrooms at the school, but they were all locked up. He had to go find a happy bush, and I think that is what the children have to do here as well.

Our next stop was to have been Prasat Banteay Ampil, an abandoned temple in the countryside. There are more than 300 temple ruins in the Siem Reap area alone, so if you want to go to one off the beaten path, it can be arranged. We drove up the road and it got narrower and narrower. At the edge of the small village, the driver and Borin called out to a lady sitting under her house. She walked to the road, and there was a lengthy exchange between her and Borin. We could tell by her animated gestures that there was some kind of problem. Bowden translated: the roads ahead were being flooded for rice paddy cultivation. He asked us if we wanted to go and said he was willing to try it but we were going to get wet and our vehicle might become stuck and we might have to push. I’m not afraid of getting wet, since I spent three days in the water with the elephants. That said, this did not seem like a good plan to us. Who wants to spend their vacation on the side of the road pushing a car? I told them that the van seemed very nice, and I did not wish to put them to any trouble. Borin said, “As long as you are happy, I am happy. I can show you other beautiful temples.”

We turned back, dropped off our Cambodian-Dutch guide and headed back toward civilization. Our first temple ruin of the day was Preah Koh (Sacred Bull), a pre-Angkor temple. It was the first temple to be built in the ancient and now defunct city of Hariharalaya, about nine miles southeast of the main group of temples at Angkor. The temple was built under the Khmer King Indravarman I in 879 to honor members of the king’s family. The temple gets its name from the three statues of sandstone located in the front of and facing the temple’s central towers. These statues represent Nandi, the white bull who serves as the mount of Shiva.

First look:

Our second temple was nearby Bakong, one of the first temple mountains of sandstone constructed by rulers of the Khmer empire at Angkor. In the final decades of the 9th century AD, it served as the official state temple of King Indravarman I in the ancient city of Hariharalaya. The mountain temples are meant to be earthly manifestations of Mount Meru, the home of the Hindu gods. The soil from the excavated moat is piled inside, to make the temple look even taller.

The temple is surrrounded by a moat that never goes dry. Borin says there are many big fish down there. Local legend says that the spirits of two large snakes and a big crocodile live in the moat. To see them, a person must have a loyal and honest character. I didn’t see a thing.

The bridge entrance faces east, as do most temples, to signify life. The bridge was flanked by nagas (the seven headed serpent), but most of the the ballustrade is gone. The nagas are common in Khmer architecture and are used to protect water crossings.

At the entrance to each ruin, we have encountered persistent “salespeople.” Mostly young children, they attach themselves to you as soon as you leave the van. “Scarf, ma’am. $1.” “Would you like some bananas?” “Do you like this purse?” We always said “No thank you” politely, but it is a little sad to see. There is a desperation in their attitude. I never see anyone buying anything from them, but someone must or they would not be there.

We were very happy with the change in plans. Borin told us he had visited “the other temple” several times, and it was not historically significant. Its main selling point was that it was in the middle of nowhere so that visitors were usually alone. The temples we saw instead today were beautiful and rich in history. Best of all, I didn’t have to get out and push the van.

We got back to Siem Reap town for lunch at 12:45. Our lunch was included in the tour today, and we went to a nice restaurant called Palate. Our guide and driver waited patiently outside while we dining in luxury. It is pointless to ask them to join us. We tried. They will not. I think they enjoy the down time too. I ordered a nice cold Coca-cola. I am not sure there is anything more refreshing to me than that on a hot day. It gives a nice jolt of sugar and caffeine.

We had an appetizer of beef wrapped in bacon. (What a great idea!) There was a butternut squash soup that was to die for. Genene out-ordered us all with beef with red ants!

Borin had offered to take is to an artisan market after lunch, but we were shopped out, and our early morning had taken its toll on our energy levels. Our bags are almost at their weight limit, and I knew that if I went to the market, I would just find more things I did not need. My memories are enough. We asked him to take us to our hotel, where we took a hot shower and had a siesta. The next two days are going to be action packed, so we are happy for a few hours of down time. We read books. Genene watched silly youtube videos.

The sun went down, and this was the view from our balcony.

For dinner, we decided to take a tuk-tuk to the night market. We all love the tuk-tuk rides.

We found a restaurant serving “authetic Khmer cuisine.” Our table was actually in the side alleyway just outside the restaurant. We settled in, ordered our beers and waters and watched the crowds go by. I said, “Genene, stop putting your feet on me.” “Mom, I’m not.” It kept happening. I had the sensation of something on my feet. I would look down….nothing. Finally, I saw it: a giant cockroach, as big is the Texas palmetto bug variety!!! (I think I saw his brother fried up on a cart in Bangkok.) I squealed. Greg laughed. Genene went on high alert and put her legs up in her chair. It skittered across my feet again, and this time, I got it with my heel. He was such a monster that I didn’t kill him, but he was maimed and wandered off, never to bother me again. The meal was good, but I must admit being a bit distracted. I kept wiggling my feet and stomping them periodically to ward off the night creatures!

Authentic Khmer cuisine (no bugs, please!):

We wandered back through the night market. When we reached the edge, we got a tuk-tuk and headed “home” to Shinta Mani.

Our day begins before sunrise tomorrow. It’s Big Kahuna Day! We are finally headed to Angkor Wat.

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Thursday, August 6, 2015

Borin told us our day could start “late” at 8:00 AM. First we had a delightful breakfast at Shinta Mani Resort, our hotel. Bowden and the driver met us promptly and we hit the road.

Our first stop was the Bayon Information Center, which is an interpretive center that houses information and artifacts from the Khmer Empire. Our tour operator felt that it was important that we understand some history before launching into a tour of the various temple ruins. We watched a 10 minute film on the architecture and history of the area. After the film, we met a young woman who has studied archeology. She explained the historical periods, roughly divided as pre-Angkor, Angkor and post-Angkor. The inhabitants of Cambodia were among the first peoples of southeast Asia, but they left little in terms of written history so their origins are still the subject of much debate. What they did leave behind are some fabulous temple ruins. The pre-Angkor people were animist in their beliefs: the rocks, trees, wind–all might be the gods. They had a great deal of trade interaction with Indian people, and the Hindu gods were introduced. Buddhism also flourished. It seems that the pre-Angkor people were willing to incorporate all of these gods into their belief system and architecture, and this is why we can find the Buddha, Vishnu, and all the gang carved together on the walls and inside the temples.

The young archaeologist kept discussing the importance of a Hindu architectural feature she called the Shiva linga. It can be found inside many of the temples. She kept referring to it, and I guess she could see the blank look on our faces. “Do you know Shiva linga?” she asked. We admitted that we did not know what she was talking about. She said, “I can tell you, but it’s a little bit rude.” (She didn’t know us very well.) We said, “Please do.” She leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “It look like the dick.” Oh! Okay, I understand!

The Angkor civilization began in 802, when King Jayavarman II was declared (by himself) the universal ruler of a large territory previously ruled by multiple warlords. His successors gradually annexed more territories and the wealth of the kingdom accumulated. The temples became more and more magnificent. The Angkor era peaked in the late 1100’s. Think about that: before the Magna Carta was drafted, these people were building this empire! The Khmer empire ended with a Thai invasion and the sacking of Angkor in 1431, before Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

The temples range from simple to grand. Some have pyramid type structures, while others are pavilions and galleries. Most use laterite stone for their foundation. Laterite is a reddish brown mudstone. It’s soft and easily cut from the ground but hardens through oxidation. Pre-Angkor structures use brick on the top, while Angkor structures use sandstones, onto which are carved the most fabulous bas-relief.

The temples fell into ruin after the collapse of the Angkor civilization, and many of them toppled or were overtaken by the jungle. The French colonized Cambodia, and in the late 1800s and early 1900’s, they began to try to document, clear and restore the temple ruins. The Cambodians harbor ill feelings about the French occupation, but they grudgingly admit that the French intervened to save many of these structures that had been neglected for centuries. There are over 300 temples in the Siem Reap area alone, and the Cambodian countryside has over 1,000.

Our first stop after the information center was the old capital city of Angkor Thom, which flourished from the late 12th to early 13th century. The walled city was the largest preindustrial settlement in the world. The city was planned under King Jayavarman VII to wow the other kingdoms of southeast Asia. A gigantic moat was hand-dug around the city, and the dirt from the moat was used to raise the elevation of the city so that it appeared to be a dwelling of a “mountain king.” The temples in this area were built from the 9th to the 12th century by the Khmer empire, which controlled not only Cambodia, but also large parts of what are now Laos, Thailand and Vietnam.

Our next stop was the temple complex itself, where we met an architect in charge of the temple restoration. This work is fascinating, and our guide was passionate. Over the centuries, many of the stones have fallen from the structures and been repurposed into road bases and other structures. The architects are trying to reconstruct portions of the original temples. It is an impossible three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. Many of my engineer friends would enjoy this work, I think.

All of these stones were once in temples, and the architects are trying to figure out how to put them back. Humpty-Dumpty!

The architect took us right into the hardhat area to give us a behind-the-scenes tour of the restoration.

He told us that the French had used concrete in their restoration efforts, but that is no longer favored. Architects nowadays try to use the original materials in the restoration, though sometimes a metal I-clamp is used to stablilize a structure. Many countries cooperate in funding temple restoration projects: Japan, India and Germany seemed to be frequent good citizens. The United States has sponsored some projects, but I was disappointed that we were not doing more to preserve these priceless artifacts. Perhaps it is a matter of lack of public awareness.

I was intrigued by the architect. He had a light in his eyes that is only seen in those wonderful, crazy people who have found their true calling. This restoration will be his life’s work, and he is making a difference for centuries to come.

We completed our hardhat tour, and the architect and archeologist took their leave of us. Borin escorted us into Bayon and began to show us the stunning bas-relief. The galleries told story upon story upon story about the Angkor kingdom and its people. There were depictions of great battles, migrations, and daily life.

Marching into battle:

Our next stop was Ta Prohm, a late 12th century temple sometimes called the jungle temple. When the French rediscovered the temples in the 19th century, this is what they would have seen, a temple reclaimed by nature. While the French acted to restore the great temples of Angkor, they elected to maintain Ta Prohm in its natural state as a “concession to the general taste for the picturesque.” (Don’t you just love the way the French say things?) You may recognize the temple from the movie “Lara Croft Tomb Raider.” Borin spoke respectfully about Angelina Jolie. I never thought too much about her before, though I know she has been involved in a lot of humanitarian efforts across the world. When she crossed my radar, it was only as the wild companion of Brad Pitt. Ms. Jolie is someone different to the Cambodians. She is well known to them. They all know that she has an adopted Cambodian son, whom they call by name as if he were their dear friend. As far as Borin is concerned, she has helped to put Cambodia on the world map and is worthy of respect.

First look:

We rested for a while, cleaned up and walked to nearby Chanrey Tree, where we had an excellent dinner. We were lazy and caught a $2 tuk-tuk ride home. It’s a fun way to see the city.

The ladies at Shinta Mani shape these floating flowers. They make a fragrant, beautiful display in the courtyard and pool areas.

Our day will start early tomorrow. Borin is meeting us at 5:20 AM to take us to the monastery, where we will listen to the monks chant, and afterwards continue touring. Our vacation is not very relaxing, but it is a lot of fun!

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Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Our guide and driver arrived at 6:30 AM to escort us to the airport. We were going to the Chiang Rai airport, which was a new destination for us, as we had come to the area overland. The fine people at Anantara Resort packed a boxed breakfast of fruits and pastries for us so we wouldn't starve during the hourlong drive to the airport. We ate our pastries, napped and enjoyed the scenery. Greg had to make a pit stop along the way, and our guides knew the perfect gas station with a bay of toilets in a detached building along the back side. It was no Buc-ee's, but it got the job done.

The international airport at Chiang Rai is small and tidy. We strolled right up to the check-in; there was no line. The Bangkok Airways representative looked harder at our paperwork than anyone else has so far. She pointed out a “problem.” She noted the August 4 date stamp on our passports, and today is August 5. She intimated that we had overstayed our alloted time in Thailand. (Tourists get 30 days without a visa for visiting.) I was proud of myself because I actually understood where she was going wrong. I pointed out that the date she was looking at was actually the Thailand exit date stamp that we received yesterday when we crossed into Myanmar. When we crossed back into Thailand, we got new entry stamps. For the land crossing, we got another 30 days (starting yesterday) so we were well within the allotted time. It always makes me a little nervous at these entry and exit points. It's good to be on vacation, but it's good to be able to go home too! After she took a second look, she agreed with me, gave us our boarding passes and sent us on our merry way.

We were even able to get all our Thai exit immigration paperwork done at this airport so that when we land in Bangkok, we would simply have to make our connection and go onward to Siem Reap in Cambodia. They put a blue sticker on our shirts so that we would be clearly identified as having passed through immigration and thus get sent to the right place at Bangkok's monstrous airport.

Our flight left on time and we said goodbye to northern Thailand. We enjoyed our stay there but were looking forward to seeing Cambodia. Bangkok Airways is very efficient. In terms of their airplane fleet, think Southwest Air. In terms of their service, it's much, much more. On the hour long flight, they served us a meal, water, coffee, tea, juice, with a moist towelette for before and after the meal. It was very civilized.

We had a three hour layover in Bangkok so we found a little pub to have a snack and a beer while we waited. Perhaps we were addled or sleep deprived, but it took us a little while to figure out how to find the entrance to our gate. There are various concourses, and we found the right one. The concourse had levels, and we got on the wrong one. We could see our gate but could not figure out where the entrance was. Eventually we figured out that we had to go up a level and back through another set of metal detectors and x-rays to be able to enter the gate. We lost another water bottle in that transaction.

The plane to Siem Reap was even smaller, with two seats on either side of an aisle. They served us yet another meal on a one hour flight. My diet is shot to hell, but I will worry about that tomorrow. Thailand is not the place to try to live a low-carb lifestyle. Noodles and rice are the mainstays of the day.

Cambodia requires a visa, and we had gone to a lot of trouble to get evisas online before our arrival so we could avoid the “visa on entry” line. There were plenty of agents on duty, and it did not take long for our turn to arrive. They required each of us, even Genene, to approach the counter separately. I went first. My evisa worked perfectly, and I was on the other side in no time flat. The baggage carousel was already turning, so I ran over and started looking for our bags. I wrestled all three of them off and was so proud of myself. Then I turned and looked across the room and noticed that Genene and Greg had not been permitted to pass to my side. I had to roll the three bags back across the hallway. It's hard to roll three bags and carry a backpack and a purse. I got as close as I could, but Greg was too far away to be able to speak to me. By his gestures, I understood that Genene was being required to get a visa. The forms clearly state that children under 12 are not required to have a separate visa and may travel under one parent's visa. We had put Genene under Greg's evisa, but apparently the immigration official was having none of it. Genene told me later that he just kept repeating “no visa, no visa.” It scared Genene because there she stood by herself with the immigration official, whose English was apparently limited to the words “no visa.” Greg came up to the counter and got nowhere when he told them she was 11. We had another problem. I had gone through the immigration area with Greg's backpack because he was gallantly carrying my much heavier backpack, filled with camera gear. That meant that I had his cell phone, the extra passport photos, and most of the money on me. He had a nice big bag full of camera gear and diarrhea medicine. The immigration officials turned a blind eye while we leaned way out and stretched our arms across the barrier. I handed Greg some money and his cell phone. It was a nuisance and a time waster, and it cost us $2 to get Genene a separate visa.

By the time Greg completed Genene's visa paperwork, the line was virtually non-existent, so we really lost only a few minutes. Once Genene had the paper visa, she was waived through immediately. They accepted Greg's evisa for his entry. It was more unnerving than anything. Genene told me that it had frightened her because the immigration official had her separated from me and from Greg, and she said his command of English was pretty rudimentary. It wasn't the smooth start we had hoped for, and it was more annoying because we had done our homework in advance and still ended up in the “visa on entry” line.

The airport was fairly small, and as soon as we went out the door into the bright sunlight and wet heat, we saw our guide Borin. He introduced himself, smiled broadly and said, “Thank you for coming to my country. You are giving me a job for a few days, and I am very happy. This is the beginning of the rainy season, and my work is not as busy.” We felt better immediately. We told him the problem we had experienced, and he said, “The immigration officials just want more money.” He also theorized that Genene is very tall for her age, and perhaps the man at the counter simply did not believe she was 11. He could have done the math. Her birthday is on her passport.

On the 20 minute trip into the city, Borin told us a bit about the reign of terror of the Khmer Rouge and its brutal leader Pol Pot and the “genocide” (his word) that occurred from 1976 to 1979 in his country. Over 3 million people were killed. After Pol Pot had to retreat into the countryside in 1979, civil war ensued. Orderly government was not restored until his death in 1998. Cambodia is nominally a kingdom, but real power rests with the prime minister, a member of the Cambodia People's Party who has been in office since an “election” many years ago. The youth of Cambodia believe this prime minister has too much power and that new elections need to be held. The future is uncertain, but for now, the country appears to be stable.

We got to our hotel, the Shinta Mani, in the heart of Siem Reap. We were greeted the moment we hopped out of the van and handed cold, moist, fragrant towels. The manager said, “This will be your home while you are here in Siem Reap. Welcome home!” Every person from the bellboy to the manager to the housekeeper greeted us with hands clasped together at their faces as if in prayer. Heads were bowed, and the traditional Khmer greeting–which sounds like “joam reeb sue”–was given. We felt like royalty. We had practiced the greeting on the airplane and returned it, to their obvious delight. Learning a simple greeting in the language pays such awesome dividends. Genene has an excellent memory, and we can depend upon her to lead the way and remind us of basic words, such as hello, thank you, and please.

We unpacked our bags and rested for a few minutes. Tonight we were in for a special treat. My law partner, Taylor Goodall, married a very fine lady back in February. His wife Mariana de Barran is Mexican, and their wedding was a blow-out, all-night party in San Miguel de Allende. I remember some of the evening, which included a LOT of champagne and a dance party with a midget! Why am I telling you this? Because at the wedding, we had the excellent fortune to meet the bride's parents and became instant friends. They were quite busy with the wedding, of course, but we learned that they like world travel as we do. We kept in touch through Facebook and learned that they were taking an Asian vacation at the same time we were. We compared itineraries and found that we would in Siem Reap on the same evening. What a fabulous coincidence. We had to have dinner together!

We met Leopoldo and Amparo at the Foreign Correspondents Club, a nearby restaurant. It was a wonderful evening. We talked about Taylor and what a hot mess he is (my words; they would never talk about their son-in-law in that way, but they may have smiled when I did). We talked about their beautiful daughter Mariana. We talked about past trips and travels to come. It was magical.

As we sat there enjoying the evening, the French family we met at Thai Elephant Home last week came into the restaurant and sat down at the next table! The city of Siem Reap has a population of 170,000. According to Trip Advisor, there are 583 place to eat there. What are the chances we would run into our Thai Elephant Home friends? What was it that Rick said in “Casablanca”? “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” We waved to them, and at first you could see their confusion as they tried to place us. After all, we were reasonably clean and not wearing a mahout uniform. We exchanged greetings and discussed where we had been and where we were going.

Both our bellies and hearts were full. We had enjoyed a great evening with fellow travelers. We said goodbye to Amparo and Polo and watched them climb into a tuk-tuk and motor away. They are going to Angkor Wat at sunrise tomorrow and then will head Kuala Lumpur. We will stay in Siem Reap a bit longer and take in several temples. Hand in hand in hand, we strolled back to our hotel.

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Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Today was to be a full day. Our itinerary called for us take a longtail boat across the Mekong into Laos and Myanmar. Our guide was to meet us at 10:00 AM. Anantara Resort gave us free tickets to the Opium Museum, which was located right across the street. Our only chance to see it would be this morning, so we elected to start over there on our own at 9:00 AM and have the guide meet us there at 10:00.

We rode our first tuk-tuk from the resort to the museum. I don’t think that really counts, since it was the hotel’s tuk-tuk and was all spiffed up. We should have taken one of the Bangkok “take your life in your hands” tuk-tuk rides!

I was blown away by the Opium Museum. It was a huge building with exhibits on two floors. No photography was permitted so I will just have to give you a brief description. We entered the museum through a cave-like tunnel that went for hundreds of feet. The lighting was low, and after a time, our eyes began to adjust and we began to notice that the walls were not just plain rock. It was bas relief: there appeared to be faces, writhing bodies, skeletons, all coming out of the wall. Genene said she saw something that looked like Munch’s painting “The Scream” and a Medusa. It was quite creepy and set the tone. If this is what an opium trip looks like, I don’t want to go on one.

We didn’t do the museum justice. We took about an hour and 20 minutes to run through it. It was easily worth 2 to 2 1/2 hours. It traced the history of the opium trade, and the British were definitely the villain of the piece. Basically they traded opium for tea in the region for centuries, and an industry was born. The museum also summarized the various opium wars and the geopolitical reasons for the trade and the various governments and corporations that have profited from the trade. I can’t believe I just tried to summarize several centuries of history in two sentences, but there you have it.

We saw photos and a depiction of two different opium dens. There was a den for rich people, with a nice day bed with a cool, smooth surface, a hard pillow to rest your head, all the necessary “appliances”, tea and snacks for afterward (apparently it gives you the munchies). The den for the pathetic addicts was much simpler: a hard block to lay your head on, a hard platform to lay on, dirty equipment and nothing more. They also had a room full of pipes and scales, some of which were quite beautifully crafted. There was a complete mock-up of a British clipper ship that would have been used to carry the opium from India to China, where it was exchanged for tea and spices.

At the end, there was the usual warning about how doing drugs will ruin your life and a description of the efforts made by Thailand’s king to stop the opium trade in their country. The royal foundation spent $10 million building this museum, and the intent is to open the eyes of the world to the moral hazards of the opium trade. It was very well done, and I was sorry we didn’t have more time to spend there.

We met our guide, a lovely woman named Toy, at the exit to the museum. She began discussing a change of plans immediately. She was quite worried about the itinerary, which called for a longtail boat ride across the Mekong River into Laos and Myanmar.

The Mekong River was very high. We knew that from looking out our window at Anantara. No one there seemed concerned about it, but I guess no one was trying to cross it in a junky little boat with a car motor attached to it. Toy explained that the Chinese were releasing water from dams upstream to relieve their own flooding situation. They were causing downtream flooding to their “good neighbors” in Thailand and Vietnam. Toy shrugged her shoulders and said, “They are a big country. They can do what they want.” Toy suggested that we go to the Golden Triangle and make a final decision after reviewing the launch point.

We got there, and the first thing we saw was this boat going sideways down the river. Toy joked that they would probably end up in Vietnam.

Our gear is packed. Tomorrow we leave Thailand and head for Cambodia. The adventure continues.

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Monday, August 3, 2015

We had no alarm set. It was glorious. It was raining steadily outside so there was no incentive to get up. We all enjoyed the luxury mattresses and soft, cool sheets. We ate a late breakfast at the hotel. Anantara is also an elephant resort, and we strolled to breakfast behind their “baby” elephant, who was making his way from one paddock area to another. He is actually quite large now but still walks right through the grounds of the hotel. When we arrived yesterday, our concierge showed us the rub marks on the walls and archways. She says that in another few months, he will be too big to come through hotel and will have to go around the grounds on the outside. We had no plans except for a cooking class at 5:30 PM and so enjoyed a quiet day of reading and relaxing. It was awesome. We could have taken a shuttle into town, but we all felt lazy and didn’t want to get wet.

Our room has a three country view in the Golden Triangle area. The triangle is made by the border meeting of Thailand, Myanmar (formerly known as Burma) and Laos. The opium trade flourished here, and the various local currencies were not accepted in trade. Payments were made in gold, giving the area its name.

This is the view from our balcony. At our feet is Thailand, where the lodge is located. Directly across the mighty Mekong River directly is Myanmar (Burma). To the right (looking northeast) you can see the mountains of Laos. We spent a lot of time today on the balcony listening to the sounds of the rain, the tree frogs, the elephants. It was very relaxing. It has been raining hard, and there is a lot of flooding in the area. Our hotel is high on the hill so we can watch the rising water in the riverbottom in complete safety. It looks like a lot of water to us, but the locals just shrug their shoulders. I think this is pretty common for this time of year.

There are two restaurants at the hotel: Thai and Italian. We were THai-ed out and so for lunch we had Italian. It made for a nice change of pace, although the Italians are not known for their low-carb lifestyles either. I’ll get back on the diet later.

We had a wonderful day at leisure. Greg read books. I blogged. Genene watched youtube and played games. We napped. It was nice to recharge our batteries.

At 5:30, we headed down to the cooking area to take a class from one of the chefs. It’s the first time I have done such a thing. I am not allowed to cook in our house, except for some baking. I am not very good at cooking, and I end up wrecking the kitchen. Greg loves it, and so I have abandoned our kitchen at home to him.

Genene loves watching the cooking show “Chopped” and enjoyed getting to make her own meal.

Tonight’s menu was chicken satay, green papaya salad, and shrimp pad thai. I could get used to this kind of cooking. The chef had all the ingredients pre-measured and in little bowls. As we prepared each course, the ingredients appeared magically. At home, we invariably start cooking, realize we have forgotten some key ingredient and end up rushing off the the store. The chef encouraged us to add spice to our liking, so Greg and I each tossed in a whole chili to give our dishes some Thai spice, not farang or falong (foreigner). There must be a lot of finicky white people vacationing throughout Thailand because most restaurants are afraid to make anything for us with spice.

Chicken satay and green papaya salad:

We got to eat what we cooked, along with a bottle of nice red wine. We got great parting gifts too: an apron, cutting board, shopping bag and recipe book. I can’t wait for Greg to try some of them at home.

We wandered back upstairs and had drinks at the bar. One of the bartenders was a frustrated magician and showed Genene several tricks. She enjoys magic and she loves pranking and being pranked. She and the bartender giggled as they played together. A woman sat cross-legged on a day bed in the lobby nearby and played a yangqin (Chinese hammered dulcimer) softly.

We walked around the beautiful grounds at night.

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Sunday, August 1, 2015

We had another lovely breakfast at our hotel in Chiang Mai this morning. I wish we had more time to spend there, because we were truly in the lap of luxury. The breakfast was three courses served leisurely. It makes for a good start to the day to drink the small cups of strong coffee and wait for the next plate of food to arrive.

Nicky/Vicky and driver met us at 8:00 AM and we hit the open road. I asked her which was her name and she replied, “Both.” Then she told us her real Thai name (totally unpronounceable) and explained what we had already figured out: nearly every Thai person gets a western nickname. She told us that the morning she was born, the hospital was very quiet, and the only sound her father could hear was a ticking clock. Tick-tock, tick-tock. She explained, “I can’t answer to my nickname Tick-Tock. People would laugh, so I’m called Ticky. Some people can’t say Ticky so they say Nicky or Vicky. Say any of them and I will know you are talking to me.”

Our drive was uneventful for about 30 minutes until we were stopped at a checkpoint at the edge of the city by the highway police. Our driver did not have the proper license for carrying tourists, and so he had to pay a fine to get his paperwork right on the spot. Plenty of others were in the same boat. We also saw truckloads of Burmese people being stopped and asked for their work permits. Our guide and driver took it all in stride and so did we. The delay was only about 20 minutes, and our driver came back with a scowl on his face and the papers wadded in his hand. Ticky said that sometimes the police are corrupt and simply take a bribe and give no paperwork in return.

We drove about 2 1/2 hours to Wat Rong Khun, better known to foreigners as the White Temple. The temple is really an art exhibit. It is contemporary, unconventional, and privately owned by famous artist Chalermchai Kositpipat, who designed, constructed, and opened it to visitors in 1997. The white is intended to symbolize the purity of the Lord Buddha. There is also a gallery of the artist’s works, and he is prolific and imaginative.

There was a wishing well. Your wish will come true if the coin lands on the top-most cup. I think Genene hit it, but it was hard to tell.

The artist likes superheroes and movie characters as well. There is not a real person inside this. It’s a statue…sort of.

We hit the road again. Our itinerary called for us to drive into the mountainside to see the hill tribe people and go to a plantation. Nicky steered us away from this plan. It had been raining all day, and she said the roads to the tribe and plantation listed on our plan were very narrow and there were mudslides in the area. She said she knew of a good tea plantation and a hilltribe village along our route and asked if it would be okay to stay on the main road. We agreed. It was the right decision in the end because we still didn’t get to our hotel until 5:00 PM. If we had done as our travel agent planned, who knows when we would have arrived. I think it is best to follow the advice of the local guide.

The Akha hilltribe village was a sad place. The Akha people are originally from China but arrived in Thailand via Burma. Civil wars have driven them from country to country. They have a subsistence farming living, and some of them grow poppy for opium. As soon as we got out of the van, an old woman and a child attached themselves to us, pushing a basket full of trinkets in our direction and trying to get us to buy something. The trinkets did not look appealing at all. There was no real craftmanship to them and they were probably made in a sweatshop in China somewhere. We took a pass, but they stayed at our side constantly. Nicky explaned that the men were “lazy” and did absolutely nothing all day (except chew betel nut and perhaps smoke a little opium). The women must go to the fields, work all day, and come home to cook for their men. “It’s not fair,” Vicky said. Genene and I agreed. Greg thought it sounded like a good gig. As we walked by, one man gestured to Greg. He was holding some kind of bong pipe (Was it opium? Nicky wouldn’t say). Greg waved him off and kept walking.

This old woman is in her 70s. Her teeth are gone from chewing betel nut.

The old lady wanted money after I photographed her, but Nicky told me not to pay her. Nicky said that the children do receive a free education, but the cycle of poverty is hard to break.

We were glad to get back in the van. It’s one thing to know that people live lives like this. It’s another thing to hop out of your fancy van, snap a few photos of them, and motor off. I waste more than these people have.

We saw rice fields all along the way.

We drove another hour to the Choui Fong tea plantation. The setting was beautiful. The tea plant can live 50 years. The leaves are picked by hand from the top of the plant. If two leaves sprout from the top, that is the top quality tea. If there are more than two small leaves, it is a lower grade of tea. The top leaves can grow back in only a few days so the leaves can be harvested constantly. The leaves are spread out to dry. Because it was raining, the drying area was not in operation.

We arrived at our resort at about 5 PM. While it had been a long car ride, our day was not that strenuous. We felt good. We sat down to check in and our hostess greeted us very graciously, offered us hot ginger tea and cold face towels. She said, “It’s been a long day in the car for you, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon. Would you like a small neck massage while we are getting your passport information?” I knew immediately I was going to like this place. A beautiful lady appeared from nowhere and began rubbing my neck and back. I sat and relaxed for about five minutes while she worked the kinks out of my neck and Greg took care of the paperwork. Then it was his turn for the neck massage. I could get used to this!

Our resort package is all inclusive and each day we get an activity. I was so enthralled with the neck rub that I chose a spa treatment on the spot. We had just enough time to go to our rooms, take a quick shower, put on our robes and head for the spa. Greg and I chose a 60 minute Thai massage and a 30 minute facial. Genene chose the Balinese massage and facial.

I’ve always heard about Thai massages but cannot recall that I have ever had one. Back in my SEAL PT days, we all used to go see a lady named Betty the Bonecrusher who gave rough, “therapeutic” massages. The Thai massage was something akin to that. It’s a dry massage that involves a lot of muscle stretching and manipulation. Greg and I were in the room together, and they asked us to put on Thai pajamas, a loose fitting white top and bottom. Then they worked us over. Some of it was a bit painful. I’ve had massages where I have almost fallen asleep, but there was no chance of it happening on this day. My lady was up on the table with me, bending and manipulating and stretching me. My buddy Mark Ivy swears that a good Thai massage can help a lot with back pain, and I believe him now. They released a lot of sore muscles and pinched nerves on my body. Riding the elephants was hard work, and we had many sore spots and kinks. Greg and I only squealed a few times as the ladies dug in.

The facial was more relaxing. They rubbed on various oils and astringents and massaged gently. When we were done, we met up with Genene in the spa reception area, where we all enjoyed some more hot tea. Her Balinese massage had been much more relaxing. They had rubbed her with warm oils, and she felt pampered.

We had a delicious three course Thai meal at the hotel restaurant and came up to bed. We have nothing planned tomorrow until a cooking class at 5:30 PM. It’s our first night to sleep without an alarm. What a luxury that will be!

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Saturday, August 1, 2015

We woke up for the 6:30 AM feeding.

At breakfast, we finally spent some time talking to the young girls who were staying in a dormitory just below our camp. They are serving with Global Leadership Adventures. It's like a Peace Corps program for students 14 years of age and older. The girls have been here for more than a week planting trees, visiting schools and caring for the elephants. One girl's mom lives in the Heights and attended law school at UT when I did, though I did not know her. It's a small world. Genene was intrigued by the program. Perhaps in a few years…..

We wished Johann a good day. He is off to spend it at the nursery and will go straight to Bangkok from there and then return to Belgium…until the next time.

We went down to the paddock to practice our mount and dismount skills. Our guides required us to try two other mounting methods. We already knew “map long,” which is when the elephant kneels for us to mount. The second method is song soong, in which the elephant remains standing and lifts a leg. As you get your feet on the leg, the elephant raises the leg up, up, up until you can jump to the neck. Tam long means head down, and you scramble right over the top of the head.

The “new recruits”– day-tripper elephant riders–came in. There was a British man who lives and works in London now, but when he mentioned we were from Houston, he said, “Oh, I worked there for several years and our two daughters were born there.” He said he would love to get back to Houston as the work pace was slower than London. We were amazed to find so many Houston connections this morning. We listened to the main guide, Mr. Man, give the elephant lecture word for word. The Asian elephant has a big head and small ears. The African elephant has big ears and a small head. The Asian elephant has one “finger” on the end of its trunk, while the African elephant has opposable fingers. The Asian elephant has five toes on front and four toes on the back. The African has five in the front and three in the back. Both male and female African elephants have tusks. Only the male Asian elephant has tusks, and some of the males do not have tusks. What do you call them? Thanks to my law partner Taylor Goodall, I was able to shout out the answer on the first day: Ladyboys!

Genene was so adept at getting on and off that the guides allowed her to demonstrate to the newbies. I was so proud of her. She went right to the elephant, introduced herself to everyone and gave the commands.

Map long:

The mahouts foraged for food for their elephants as they walked. They would use their big knives to chop the juicy stalks and throw them up on the trail, where the elephants snagged them and munched away as they walked. The mahouts also foraged for mushrooms for themselves. By lunchtime, they had collected a large bag.

Our lunch stop was very quaint:

I told the young mahout how beautiful Thailand was. His immediate reply: “The United States is beautiful too, yes?” I assured him that it certainly was. He said, “I would like to go there some day. I have never ridden a horse and I think I would like to.” Isn't that funny? We've come halfway around the world to ride an elephant, something we think is very exotic. He wants to come to our backyard to do something we think is pretty pedestrian.

We picked our way back carefully exactly the way we had come. Genene is lots of help to us now, as we asked her to help us spot landmarks at each intersection where we had turned. We were happy to be back on a fairly quiet street. Suddenly Greg called out, “Look there. Look who I see.” Across the street were Phil, Antonio and Michael from the elephant camp! We met in the middle of the street and hugged like old friends. In a city of nearly 3 million people, what are the chances that we would meet them again? It was a little bizarre. I got Phil's email and told him we would send photos of his boys and he could send us any that he had of our family. They were headed to the Night Market. We told them to have fun! We wanted no part of it. It was so wonderful to have found them again!

We arrived back at the safe haven of our resort hotel.

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Friday, July 31, 2015

For our second day at elephant camp, our experience would be different. We were going to the nursery to see the two babies–Dumbo and the other with a Thai name I cannot recall– and their mommas. The nursery is about a 45 minute drive from the main elephant camp. The moms and babies do not work at all, and they must have more to eat and more room to roam. They need a low stress environment in which to bond, grow and thrive.

The handlers jumped in the front of a small Toyota pickup truck, while we tourists hopped in the back. The backend of the truck was covered, and there were long benches to sit on. The California boys–Phil and his sons Antonio and Michael–were with us. There was just room for the six of us to sit in the back. The ride was, as my dad would say, “as rough as a log wagon.”

Our view from out the back of the truck. Elephants, water buffalo, scooters, and vans sharing the road: Dorothy, we are definitely not in Kansas any more.

We are going to ride again tomorrow. Greg has asked for a different elephant to see if that will make him more comfortable. I hope that it will because Genene and I are having a blast.

Even a hard bed feels good when you are exhausted.

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