Mandalay Heat

On the road this week, spending most of the time in Mandalay, one of my very favorite cities. That’s an odd proclamation, since most travelers to Myanmar will tell you that Mandalay was perhaps the least interesting city they visited. But many of those tourists do a typically “too quick” pass through town, only spending two or three days to see the supposed highlights of the area. And in the process, at least in my opinion, they miss out on the real interesting stuff to see and do here.

This week, for example, I’ve hung out in teashops, taken a group of 17 children to see the sights on Yankin Hill (and later to a swimming pool), ridden my bike all around town, stopped and visited monasteries and talked to monks, dined with locals, played putt-putt golf at a makeshift neighborhood “course” (basically a big pile of sand that these kids cleverly engineered to accommodate one hole!), and weighed in on the big Barcelona vs. Manchester United football match, which was obviously THE biggest event of the month as far as the locals were concerned.

I’m off to Nyaungshwe and the Inle Lake area on Thursday, hoping to make visits to Pindaya and Taunggyi while I’m there. Once again, this has been a thrilling, humbling, and challenging trip. My language skills are frustratingly still not where I want them to be; most of the time I have to repeat myself or I leave my listeners scratching their heads in bewilderment. But when it clicks, it’s very satisfying. And that’s enough to keep me trying.

Besides the oppressive heat, and the frequent rain storms, the biggest downer for me was hearing that Gil Scott-Heron had passed away a few days ago. This news has really, truly depressed me. Gil Scott-Heron was one of my favorite, most cherished musical artists, one who I’ve followed and listened to since I was in my late teens. Even though his output was negligible the past few decades, his passing will leave a big void in the music world.

The Baseball Project

What happens when a few baseball-addicted musicians get together to make an album? The answer is, a totally fresh and inspired collective called the Baseball Project.

This super-group — or maybe a bunch of versatile utility players would be a more apt description — has just released their second album, Volume 2: High and Inside. Returning for a “second season” of play are first-year members Pete Buck (R.E.M.), Scott McCaughey (The Minus 5, Young Fresh Fellows, R.E.M.), Steve Wynn (Dream Syndicate), and Linda Pitmon (Miracle 3, Golden Smog). This time around they are joined by Craig Finn (The Hold Steady), Ben Gibbard (Death Cab for Cutie), Steve Berlin (Los Lobos), Ira Kaplan (Yo La Tengo) and Chris Funk and John Moen of The Decemberists.

As both the band’s name and album title would indicate, the songs are all odes to favorite baseball players (“Ichiro Goes to the Moon” and “Buckner’s Bolero”, teams (“Don’t Call them Twinkies”), or baseball traditions (“Chin Music” and “Fair Weather Fans”). Some of the other songs are about players that these musicians grew up idolizing (Pete Rose, Tony Conigliaro, Mark Fidrych) back in the 60s or 70s, but one other song, “Panda and the Freak”, honors current players on the San Francisco Giants

Even if you aren’t a baseball fan, that should not detract from appreciating this album. In fact, it’s hard not to get caught up in the infectious spirit of these songs. No matter what the lyrical content, this is simply good, fun music. But for baseball fans, especially, the lyrics will provide many smiles. The Baseball Project’s first effort, Volume One: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails, is also a fine album, some of the songs so wonderfully silly that they would leave a smile on my face. With songs about players such as Ted “Fucking” Williams, Satchel Paige, Harvey Haddix, Curt Flood, and Fernando Valenzuela, you can’t help but grin. Baseball is life, indeed!

Laptop Scourge

Anyone who has ever worked in a retail establishment of any kind knows that there are times when you have to deal with unpleasant or just plain creepy customers. On one hand, most customers are kind and considerate, and a joy to have in the store. There are the ones who make retail a magical place. But once in a while along comes some character that delights in pushing your patience to the limit. Complaining, demanding, haggling, whining; they just don’t know when to stop. That old adage that “the customer is always right” is total bullshit.

But the ones at the top of my personal “most hated” list of customers are laptop users. I hesitate to even use the word “customer” when talking about these people, because they certainly are not the type of repeat patrons who spend money on a regular basis. Just as all customers are not nasty cheapskates, neither are all laptop users inconsiderate ingrates. Some of the people I see using laptops appear to be polite, sensible folks who are aware of what is going on around them, and now how to use their laptop without disturbing others around them. But the rest of the laptop-clicking masses seem lost in a digital daze, oblivious to the rest of society. I realize that people are more mobile nowadays, and love having their gadgets with them at all times, but the sight of people going into retail establishments and whipping out a laptop seems akin to public masturbation. What compels them to use their laptops in public? I suspect that there is some sort of exhibitionist behavior at play here. Why can’t they do whatever they are doing at home or back at the office? Or don’t they have homes? Perhaps that then is the problem: what we are seeing are simply sad cases of homeless people with nowhere else to go, so they are forced to seek air-conditioned sanctuary in order to fulfill their vital computing needs.

Whatever the reason for their presence, it seems there is no stopping the rising tide of public laptop users. Starbucks and similar establishments that offer free wi-fi are actually encouraging this odd behavior, deeming it “normal” practice to allow someone to hang out for hours at a time without having to purchase anything more than a single beverage. Then again, perhaps that’s why the coffee is so expensive at those joints.

But my bookshop can’t handle this sort of “customer.” We have three floors of books, but each floor is quite narrow and it should be obvious to anyone who steps inside that we aren’t a spacious Borders type of establishment. We have space for exactly one table downstairs and a counter by our front window where an additional two people can sit. We provide these seats for customers who want to take a break and drink some coffee (sorry, our supply of whiskey ran out last month!), or perhaps peruse a book or two before buying. We DON’T provide these precious few seats for people who want to use our shop as their personal workplace or study hall. One woman thought our shop would be a fine place for her to conduct language classes. She had already held three lessons — without ever asking us for permission — until we finally told her it would be better if she held her sessions elsewhere. She appeared offended at our suggestion and never returned. Wow, what a surprise!

But the laptop fondlers are the worst of them all. They act as if they are entitled to takeover any public space and turn it into their very own private domain for whatever length of time that suits their needs, oblivious to any other people who might need to use that same space. The laptoppers will unashamedly sit for hours nursing a single cup of coffee while immersed in their “work,” or whatever the hell they are doing on their precious devices. An hour or two? That’s a short coffee break for these slackers. I’ve seem some of them hole up for five or six hours. But rarely, if ever, do these digital wankers ever buy an actual book. I honestly don’t think they could handle reading something that doesn’t beep back at them.

Places like my bookshop — even though we mercifully do NOT have wi-fi — have become magnets for these cretins. We had a woman in my shop one day last week who sat for over five hours at our downstairs table, methodically pecking away on her laptop, in between fielding phone calls on her mobile. Then this wench had the audacity to ask if we had an electric outlet to recharge her phone. I just smiled and shook my head “No.” It took all I had to refrain from making a truly nasty comment. This past Saturday night we were treated to yet another inconsiderate laptop flasher; a fellow who spent over four hours with his laptop — and the obligatory single cup of coffee — at the front counter. The entire time he alternated between his laptop and a battery of other shiny iGadgets; clicking, fiddling, nodding, twitching. If I hadn’t have announced that “we are closing in five minutes,” I reckon he would have obliviously remained in his digital cocoon for another hour or two. One day last month we hosted a young Thai couple who set up shop at the table, both of them furiously clicking away on their matching laptops and phones for a solid three hours. Hey, who needs conversation when you can share digital table space? Now that’s true romance!

Thankfully, it’s rare that we are subjected to these marathon laptop sessions, so when they do occur it makes it all the more annoying. I fear the situation is only going to get worse as more people start toting around tablets, laptops, iPhones, and other gadgets and commandeering public space for their own selfish needs. It’s just another sign, in my opinion, of the decline of civilized society. Yeah, yeah, all these gadgets are nice and handy — and apparently indispensible for some — but they are also a major contributor to slothful, impolite behavior. It’s time to fight back!

Thailand Soul

I was listening to a CD compilation called Northern Soul’s Classiest Rarities, Volume Four last week when one of the songs, “A Man of My Word,” caught my ear. I slipped the booklet out of the jewel case to read more about the band, Salt & Pepper (and no, this isn’t the Hip-Hop group Salt ‘N Pepa from the 1980s), who had recorded this catchy, funky tune. I did a double take when I read that “this recording was cut in April 1970 at the Sri Kruong studios in Bangkok, Thailand.”

 

At that time, of course, the Vietnam War was going on, and members of the band were all in the US military, stationed at the U-Tapao Air Force Base near Chonburi, right here in Thailand. In the CD’s extensive liner notes, it mentions that Salt & Pepper “soon had a regular Saturday set in Bangkok at Jack’s American Star Bar, a mainly black GI haunt that was later revealed to have been a front for heroin dealing. Friday nights saw them at Charlie’s Hideaway in the Pattaya Beach resort and they even got gigs in native Thai clubs.” The band’s name was inspired by the fact that the lead singer (Ed Mobley) was black, while the rest of the band members were white. According to additional information that sax player Steve Jarrell posted on an online soul music forum:

We formed the group and played the service clubs and on weekends we played in Bangkok and Jack’s American Star Bar and also at Charlie’s Hideaway in Pattaya Beach, Thailand. We recorded the songs that Ed had written and put them on Toni’s custom label. We were the first Americans to ever record in Southeast Asia. The record became a hit in Bangkok and received airplay on the Armed Forces Radio Network. I sang background and played sax on the records. I can’t remember if any of the other guys sang too. We did the old technique of “pinging” track to track back and forth. I am sure the machine was a 2 or 4 track recorder. The studio was Sri Kruong in Bangkok. I remember we had fun with the Thai engineer. We would move our mouths and not sing and he would start shaking wires like something was wrong with the equipment. We all got a big chuckle out of that.

 

In addition to that track, there are many more cool songs on Northern Soul’s Classiest Rarities, Volume Four. As the title implies, these are all very rare recordings, many of them making their debut on CD for the first time. But that’s not to say that these are weak or inferior recordings. Far from it. The quality is excellent and listeners are treated to vibrant tunes that reinforce the therapeutic power of soul music. Like Salt and Pepper, many of these artists never recorded again, or if they did, their output was never enough to fill an entire album, thus the recordings were “lost” for several decades. About the only “big” name on this collection is singer Brenton Wood, who released several albums, including some “hits” compilations you can still find. The other three volumes of Northern Soul’s Classiest Rarities are also chock-full of great tracks, just begging to be heard. Kent Records has done a fantastic job of culling the archives of various labels to find these rare records. More please!

Wilfred Thesiger

I love reading travel books, so I’m not sure why it took me so long to discover the books of Wilfred Thesiger, but I’m thankful that I finally did. I stumbled upon a copy of Thesiger’s The Marsh Arabs about two years ago, the book just sitting there on a shelf at my bookshop. Thumbing through it, I was struck by the photos that Thesiger had taken of the locals, as well as the descriptions of his travels in the marsh region of pre-oil Iraq in the 1950s. I’ve never been to that part of the world, and honestly don’t have much of a desire to go anywhere in the Middle East, but reading about travels in off-the-beaten-path destinations, particularly from bygone eras, always intrigues me.

Maybe one reason I hadn’t heard of Thesiger is that he isn’t really a typical travel writer, but a true adventurer, one who spent most of his adult life in remote regions of Africa and the Middle East, often venturing to lands where he was one of the first Western visitors. It was typical of Thesiger, that through his actions and behavior, he won the respect, admiration and confidence of the local people wherever he travelled, despite being a foreigner from an entirely different culture.

One book jacket proclaims:

Wilfred Thesiger was, in the words of David Attenborough, “one of the very few people who in our time could be put on the pedestal of the great explorers of the 18th and 19th centuries.” Throughout his life he journeyed through some of the remotest, most dangerous areas of Africa, witnessing and photographing fast-changing cultures to great acclaim.

Luckily, armchair travelers can read about Thesiger’s adventures thanks to the books that he wrote, and we gain an added appreciation of those travels and the people he encountered thanks to the many stunning Black & White photos that illustrate those books. Thesiger travelled by camel around the “empty quarter” of Arabia (the subject of the classic Arabian Sands) and by canoe through the marshes of Southern Iraq (the subject of The Marsh Arabs), as he methodically dispensed medicine to villagers, performed circumcisions (yes, even though he wasn’t a doctor, Thesiger was surprisingly prolific at this operation), or shooting crocodiles, wild boar, tigers, and other wild animals that posed a threat to him and his companions. Thesiger seemed unfazed by the dangers and discomforts surrounding him, including the death threats he received from “enemy” tribes in Arabia, simply because he was in “infidel” travelling through their land. In cases like that, he usually had to request written permission to enter those areas.

After finishing The Marsh Arabs, I was hooked on Thesiger’s style, and then found a copy of his acclaimed Arabian Sands. That book is an account of his travels in the 1940s through Southern Arabia, a trip that was particularly fraught with hardships and danger. No water for days at a time, minimal food supplies, hostile armed tribes, horrific diseases. Not exactly akin to a sea cruise or leisurely walkabout. Following that book, I tackled Among the Mountains: Journeys Through Asia, in which Thesiger travelled in colder climates and higher elevations. In the past month I’ve read both The Danakil Diary: Journeys Through Abyssinia, and My Kenya Days, books which cover dramatically different periods of Thesiger’s life on that continent. In between the Arabian and African books I also read a biography of Thesiger written by his friend Alexander Maitland. That book gives the reader a better feel for this enigmatic explorer, a man more comfortable riding camels on sand dunes than motoring down country lanes back home in his native England. In fact, Thesiger famously detested motor vehicles, big city life, and modern “progress,” although in his later years he succumbed to practicality and bought a jeep to get around the area where he lived in Kenya.

This past month I splurged on a copy of Wilfred Thesiger in Africa, a fabulous hardcover collection of his photos. This book also includes some essays about Thesiger and his travels from a variety of friends and fellow authors. There is also a more deluxe collection of Thesiger’s photos, A Vanished World, but that book is currently out of print, and the cheapest used copies I’ve seen from online dealers are going for around $130. I’d love to have it, but I think I’ll wait.

Heartworn Highways

It’s late December, 1975, and a group of musicians have gotten together to perform a few songs. This bunch of singer-songwriters were all young men, all based in the American Southwest (mostly from Texas), still relatively unknown to the music world, but in the words of this album’s producer, ones who “were beginning to change the landscape of country music.” What these musicians were offering was definitely not your traditional brand of hillbilly country, but something that was later dubbed “outlaw country” or even “progressive country.” More whiskey and Texas chili, as opposed to grits and biscuits.

Whatever the label, you could safely say, without exaggeration, that this was one of the greatest collections of singer-songwriters ever assembled; a jaw-dropping group of young mavericks that included Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt, Rodney Crowell, John Hiatt, Steve Earle, and Steve Young. Throw in interesting characters like Larry Jon Wilson, Gamble Rogers, and David Alan Coe, and the atmosphere becomes even more intoxicating — in more ways than one! The CD clocks in at nearly 80 minutes, offering stunning performances such as Van Zandt’s classic “Pancho and Lefty,” a few Guy Clark gems (“L.A. Freeway” and “Desperadoes Waiting for a Train”), Crowell’s “Bluebird Wine,” and Coe’s surprisingly tender “I Still Sing the Old Songs.”

Although the film was made in 1976, it’s not clear why it took over 30 years for these recordings to surface. But thanks to efforts by the label, the album’s producer, and sound engineers, a “meticulous audio restoration” was undertaken and the result is an incredible album. It sounds like you are right in the room with these guys, listening to history being made. Not only is this a priceless audio snapshot of great musicians during their formative years, it’s also a thrilling listening experience. And it may cause some listeners to redefine what they think of as country music. 

 

There is also a documentary companion to Heartworn Highways that contains even more music, including performances by Charlie Daniels. But it’s apparently now out of print and the last time I checked on Amazon, even used copies were selling for well over a hundred dollars. Have to patiently wait for a reissue or more affordable offerings.

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The biggest musical contributor to Heartworn Highways — at least the one with the most songs — was Guy Clark, at that time a young songwriter who had just released his first two albums, both of them flawless collections of well-crafted songs; Old No. 1 and Texas Cookin’. Pick any song off either of those albums and you have a classic. Really, it’s hard to think of an artist, in any genre, who had two better albums to launch a career. Although Guy Clark is perhaps best known as a songwriter whose songs have been covered by hundreds of other artists, he’s also a very good singer and the power of his songs are not diminished at all by having him perform them. Which I think, was one reason why fellow troubadour Townes Van Zandt never made it big. Townes was a great songwriter, no question about it, but his vocals took some getting used to. And while Guy Clark is no Willie Nelson in the vocals department, he’s much smoother than Townes. 

For yet another glimpse into the great songs and personalities of these musicians, check out Together at the Bluebird Café, a live album recorded in 1995 with contributions from Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt, and Steve Earle. Wonderful tunes performed in small venue with some great between songs patter helps gives this album a refreshing down-to-earth homey vibe. This was also one of the last times the three shared a stage; Van Zandt passed away less than two years later.

 

Shan State Novice Monks

 

Another week with too much murder, misery, and mayhem in the news. To counteract all that negativity, here are a few happy photos of the congenial novice monks at Shwe Yan Pyay Kyaung, an old teakwood monastery on the outskirts of Nyaungshwe in Myanmar’s Shan State. Nyaungshwe is the gateway to nearby Inle Lake, a picturesque body of water framed by craggy green mountains, and home of the famous leg-rowing fisherman.

Many of these novice monks come from Pa-O villages in the area. They spend most of the morning and afternoon studying, but once in a while — as you can see in these photos — they cut loose and revert to being silly young boys.

 

Gordon Lightfoot

Gordon Lightfoot has written an astonishing number of great songs during his long recording career. In the grand tradition of storytelling singer-songwriter guitar-playing folk singers, skirting the fringes of country and pop, Gordon Lightfoot is one of the absolute finest. His songs endure.

 

Despite the quality of his songs, and many best-selling albums, Gordon Lightfoot remains a criminally underrated artist, one that has never catapulted to the upper ranks of fame and acclaim. Maybe the humble “Canadian factor” has something to do with it, or the fact that his songs aren’t political or controversial, thus he’s not considered a “serious” artist in the vein of Bob Dylan or Neil Young. But perhaps it’s just because the native of Ontario is such a normal, unassuming musician, as opposed to a “colorful” character who is constantly in the media spotlight, that he’s not considered a superstar.

 

Whatever the case, Lightfoot has penned and sang hundreds of great songs that have also been covered by dozens (perhaps hundreds?) of other artists. Hidden Treasure? Gordon Lightfoot is all that and more. Surely anyone over the age of forty will remember his songs — “If Could Read My Mind,” “Sundown” and “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” are the most well known. Since his first album, released in 1965, Lightfoot consistently recorded and performed live concerts until the late 1990s. Some ensuing health problems slowed him down and curtailed his concert schedule for several years, but he bounced back with a new album, Harmony, in 2004, and a tour the following year.

 

There are several excellent compilation albums of songs, highlighting both his early work for United Artists, and his later albums for Reprise/Warner Brothers. The first Gordon Lightfoot album I ever owned was a compilation called Gord’s Gold. I’ve owned that treasured collection on various formats over the years; vinyl, CD, cassette, and even 8-Track tape. The one knock some people make against this collection, is that some of the “hits” were re-recorded versions. That aside, the songs still sound great and this collection never gets stale. The Lightfoot purists, however, will argue that his best material is found on The United Artists Collection, a compilation of his early recordings. And it’s hard to find fault with that judgment either; the material on this two-disc set is stellar, including many of his best tunes: Ribbon of Darkness, Early Mornin’ Rain, Steel Rail Blues, Song for a Winter’s Night, Canadian Railroad Trilogy, The Way I Feel, Did She Mention My Name, and Bitter Green. For those with a real hankering for even more vintage Lightfoot, there is the four-disc boxed set, Songbook. This, of course, culls highlights from Lightfoot’s recording career, as well as offering 16 previously unreleased tracks, plus many more making their first appearance on CD.

 

No matter which album or compilation you listen to, you will be treated to well-crafted songs, and Lightfoot’s trademark warm vocals, lovingly caressing each song.

The American Way

Yesterday’s big news, of course, was the report that Osama Bin Laden had been killed in Pakistan. Yeah, it was nice to finally be rid of that sinister character, but the best thing about the Osama-bliteration was that it finally pushed all those annoying stories about the over-hyped royal wedding out of the news.

The death of Bin Laden was such a huge event that it even made the sports pages. I read the following on ESPN’s website yesterday:

The “U-S-A, U-S-A” chants began at Citizens Bank Park (in Philadelphia) in the ninth inning, as the New York Mets’ Daniel Murphy batted as a pinch-hitter … the news spread and the pockets of chants continued, until the news had filtered throughout the place and it reached a crescendo later in the inning that Osama bin Laden had been killed by U.S. special forces in Pakistan. “I don’t like to give Philadelphia fans too much credit, but they got this one right,” Mets third baseman David Wright said following his team’s 2-1 win in 14 innings. “I guess it’s a proud moment to stand out there and you’ve got 45-50,000 (people) chanting. That was pretty special.”

“It’s probably a night I’ll never forget,” added Mets pitcher Chris Young, a former politics major at Princeton University. “I came inside and heard the news. There are some things bigger than the game and our jobs. I was inside. You could hear the crowd chanting, ‘U-S-A.’ And I got chills hearing that. It was a pretty neat atmosphere and place to be to get that kind of news. … It’s certainly a historic night and a great victory for the United States and the war on terrorism.”

There were also the predictable street celebrations around the states, particularly in places of 9-11 destruction like New York City and Washington, DC. People were seen waving flags, beeping horns, shouting “USA, Number One!” and singing patriotic songs. Naturally, there is a sense of relief, and maybe a feeling of closure, for those who lost loved ones in the 9-11 attacks. And certainly there is also some vindication that the America has finally slain their number one enemy. People are happy, as if they’ve just won that elusive big game, and I can understand that.

 But frankly, I find this sort of celebratory reaction — whether in the streets or at baseball games — very disturbing. Ten years after 9-11 and many Americans still believe that this is simply a battle of good versus evil, us versus them. It might be a relief for many to know that Bin Laden has been turned into fish food, but to hail his death as a “victory” on the war against terrorism is very premature, if not naive. One article I read referred to Bin Laden’s death as a “psychological triumph,” and while that’s an apt description, I don’t think any sensible person believes that the West has suddenly and decisively defeated their nemesis.

It seems to me that the average American still not does realize that what has motivated these terrorists for so long is not, as that simpleton George W. Bush often said, because “they hate freedom,” but due to the various atrocities and underhanded practices that various US administrations and Western corporations have inflicted on other countries over recent decades. There is a lot of resentment and anger out there, and opening McDonald’s franchises and playing basketball games overseas is not going to help stem the tide. I’m not saying that any of the dubious actions of the US over the years in any way justifies the horrific death and destruction that Al Qaeda has sown, but it does show you that their ideology, and the support they’ve garnered, has roots in something.

I’ve been reading a lot of books the past few years about the history of American involvement in the affairs of other countries; everything from supporting dubious regimes and overthrowing democratically elected ones, to bombing targets that were no threat to anyone. I just finished Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein, a very revealing look about the shady side of American big business and government “intervention” overseas, especially over the past half-century. After reading that eye-opening account and books by John Perkins (Confessions of an Economic Hitman, Secret History of the American Empire), one feels that it would be wise to treat anything the American government does or says with a lot of suspicion if not distrust. You can call it blowback, revenge, just desserts, or whatever, but all that rah-rah patriotic and we’re-better-than-you bullshit only serves to inflame the anti-Western feelings that has been building up around the world. I detest terrorist organizations like Al Qaeda and I certainly won’t mourn the evil Osama, but America’s bullying and posturing bothers me too. What also concerns me is that so many Westerners — not only Americans — have never really tried to understand the mindset, or the motivation, of those who don’t want outsiders  trying to “reform” them or bring “stability” to their country.

So now we watch America party on, clinging to the comforting notion that they are morally — and militarily — superior to other countries, and therefore justified in spreading their vision of Democracy and “freedom” to the rest of the world. In a dream last night (more of a nightmare, actually), I imagined that I was back in my home state of Florida, eating at a restaurant, seated next to two babbling morons. One guy looks at his cell phone and acts astonished as he reads a text message that just beeped:

Moron #1: Holy fucking shit, Bin Laden is dead!

Moron #2: Dude, you’re shitting me.

Moron #1: No, really. Some commando unit found him in Pakistan and just shot him to death.

Moron #2: Fuckin’ A, dude, we blasted his ass!

Moron #1: Hell yeah, good riddance to that sand nigger.

Moron #2: Dude! Goodbye to Obama!

Moron #1: It’s Osama, you idiot, not Obama.

Moron #2: Dude, same difference.

Moron #1: Yeah, whatever. This is a great day for America, man. Drink up. It’s time to party!

Moron #2: You got that right dude. Hey, got any weed?

Okay, that’s crude and tasteless, but I guarantee you similar conversations DID take place all over the country yesterday. And that’s part of the problem. Meanwhile, I suppose we need to brace ourselves for the next inevitable deluge: the flood of equally tasteless Bin Laden jokes that will soon be arriving in our e-mail inboxes. Another good example of American “culture.”

Globetrotting Gourmet

Robert Carmack is the best kind of traveler: a hungry one! The veteran cookbook author and food stylist launched the popular “Globetrotting Gourmet” food tours in 2000, focusing on the many interesting — and delicious — destinations around Asia. Several times each year you can find him wandering around the streets and markets — and dining at restaurants and food stalls — of some of the region’s most vibrant cities. Carmack, a native of the US Northwest, moved to Sydney, Australia about 25 years ago, where he lives with partner and food tour co-host Morrison Polkinghorne. He has written several cookbooks, as well as contributed food articles to travel guidebooks from publishers such as Lonely Planet and Things Asian Press.

 

Coming up next month, from June 2-12, Robert and Morrison will lead a tour to Thailand, focusing on the country’s Northeast Isan (or Isaan, or Esarn, etc.) region. That tour will culminate in a weekend “Isan Food & Wine Masterclass” at Khao Yai. Later in the year, in November, the Globetrotting Gourmet will visit Myanmar (Burma), a country populated by incredibly friendly people with many amazing sights and a surprisingly eclectic cuisine. Between meals and travels, I asked Robert about the upcoming food tours and his culinary views. 

Give us some background on the Globetrotting Gourmet. What inspired you and Morrison to start the tours?

When I was first commissioned to write Thai Home Cooking (Periplus) I approached the task by locating Thailand’s top food locations, cities, cooks, chefs and regional dishes. Naturally, it also introduced us to some stunning restaurants and interesting, out of the way, hotels as well.  When the book came out so many friends commented, “Oh, I wish I could travel to where you go, eat what you eat.” So “foolishly” we believed them, and offered our first food tour to Thailand. It was an immediate sell out! Today we structure our tours as if I am researching a new book. And we include all levels — from top restaurants to humble hawker stalls. And our clients regularly say “this is a group tour for people who don’t do group tours.” We consider that a compliment. Also, I want to stress: cooking classes are just one small part of a food tour. Eating, learning about the ingredients, and market visits are all equally important. 

You have an Isan Food & Wine Masterclass scheduled in June. When many people think of Isan food, grilled chicken and sticky rice come to mind, as does the ubiquitous spicy papaya salad, Som Tam. What are some other Isan treats that warrant attention?

There’s an old saying that that larp (also spelled larb and laap), a minced or chopped meat “salad” represents true Isan character: The dish is full of spice, rich in diversity, and deceptively simple. It’s also an unlikely blend, but a welcome treat. Add lime, mint, coriander leaf, cilantro and lemon grass, and you have close to the ideal. But here again, the Isan temperament comes into play: adaptability. In Bangkok locals prefer their larb tart and tangy, while closer to the Lao border it’s much less so, and even slightly bitter by the addition of bile duct. Locals grind toasted sticky rice to lightly bind and add crunch, and prepare the same with ground beef, chicken, turkey, chopped fish, even offal or mixed meats. And my favourite: laap dip. In my book, this is a better steak tartare than France’s Raymond Oliver or Britain’s Jamie Oliver could ever whip up! 

You also have a food tour to Myanmar scheduled in November. You’ve been to Myanmar many times. What is it about Myanmar that you find so appealing?

Definitely the friendliness of its people. Perhaps that is why I like Isan, so much as well. Of all the countries in Asia I regularly travel to, Myanmar, Lao, and Isan people are definitely the friendliest. It is a natural trait, with no underlying manipulation on their part. In Myanmar they stretch their smile like a Cheshire cat –– and it is so natural, so unaffected. People often write that Myanmar is a “time warp, a land where time forgot.”  I never see that side of the country. Instead, I see a national pride. Nor do I see it as a poor country. Indeed, it is a rich land bountiful in natural riches. A poor economy, admittedly, but not a poor country. 

Myanmar has many annual festivals. Which one is your favorite?

We’re organizing our next tour over the balloon festival in Taunggyi, near Inle Lake. But honestly, in Myanmar they are all so colorful, so natural. We took one group a few years ago to the festival in Kakku, which is a 1000-year-old “orchard of stupas.” The place is so remote, it wasn’t even discovered during the colonial period, and afterwards the military government failed to know of it until a National Geographic reporter went in on his own. I prefer the water festival in Myanmar over Thailand’s. If you don’t want to get wet, you can largely sit aside on chairs undercover and watch the locals dance under hoses. It is great! 

Many people dismiss Burmese food as being too oily or complain there isn’t much variety to the cuisine. How would you respond to those criticisms?

When I go home and replicate my Myanmar recipes, everyone raves about how delicious they taste. Particular recipes, such as lemon— or tea leaf salads are world class, and its curries are deceptively simple, more like a tasty American stew, not buried under an avalanche of spices as in India. While travelling within the country, you do encounter a certain repetition of flavors. But this is no different than in the US, England, or Germany. In fact, I often compare Myanmar cuisine to Greek; basically the same ubiquitous flavor ingredients: oil, lemon, garlic, onion, tomato. 

You are touring the wine vineyards in Khao Yai as part of your Isan Food Tour. Myanmar also now has vineyards near Taunggyi in Shan State. Have you been there? If so, how is their wine compared to that of Khao Yai?

We’ve included visits to Ayetharyar winery in Taunggyi, both for tastings and meals. I welcome seeing local wine industry developing in all countries. In my own case, I grew up in America’s Pacific Northwest during a time when there were only fruit wineries in Oregon. Now they produce some of the world’s best pinot noir. What I fear for Myanmar, just as I do in Thailand, is that unacceptably high taxes will severely restrict its acceptance. In many ways, Myanmar’s less spicy, less sweet cuisine is more adaptable to wine than Thailand’s, but recently the government, through the prompting of Ayetharyar, began imposing a high 50% wine import taxes, and there are demands to increase this to 100%. Local wineries may consider this a form of protection, but in reality it only stops wider consumption. As for Khao Yai wines, there is no comparison to a decade ago when the world first tasted Chateau Loei in the north. I have drunk some stunning bone dry roses from Khao Yai, and top red and dry whites. Where I think the wines especially excel is in pairing with Thai dishes, while not in trying to emulate European styles solely.  

Do you think that the spread of globalization will eventually dilute the quality of the native cuisine in Southeast Asian countries? Or is food fusion just an inevitable consequence of merging cultures and modern day lifestyles?

Food is fluid, and so are tastes. American flavors, especially commercial brands, are much sweeter today than when I grew up. Overseas Thai restaurants tend to cook for their local public first, which I do think is a mistake. But that is the Thai nature: to be unfailingly polite, and provide what they think a guest prefers.  A Western chef would be much more arrogant and egocentric in what he serves. As for fusion, I think the Asians do it best: incorporating Asian and Western flavors, and generally a Western cooking technique. By contrast, I suspect most Western chefs don’t really understand Asian ingredients. As Chef McDang writes in his wonderful book Principles of Thai Cooking: vegetables will have different flavor when grown in a different part of the world. This is exactly what the French wine makers have contended for over a century: terroir. But to be fair to Western cooking, I think in some cases, Asian chefs can learn from us, as well. Thai curries are improved by the searing and cooking of meats, as this carmelizes the natural sugars and enhances flavor. Merely boiling meat, as Southeast Asian cooks regularly do, is merely a hedge against fuel shortages.  

Are you a fan of the pungent (some would say “stinky”) fish sauces that are used in so many of the cuisines around Southeast Asia?

I adore fish sauce, and have in fact conducted fish sauce tastings around the world at Masterclass sessions. I think some of the worst soy sauce is today served in Laos and Vietnam, as chemical sauce is the norm in both countries. Which is somewhat strange, considering that Vietnamese fish sauce is the world’s best. Chemically brewed fish and soy sauce take a day to break down the beans and wheat (using hydrochloric acid), while a naturally brewed variety takes months if not a full year or longer. The difference in taste is like chalk and cheese. Thai varieties generally include sugar, which is fine, and I have seen local production using river and stream fish in Sukhothai. Some are brought to the boil, others left natural (but a health concern). Vietnamese sauces usually do not include sugar, and I do rate the ones from Phu Quoc Nha Trang as world’s best. Northern Vietnamese fish sauce, on the other hand, is an acquired taste, and way too pungent for me.    

You’ve eaten a variety of unusual food during your travels. Is there anything that you vow never to eat again?

As much as I adore Isan cooking, I still find pla ra/padaek a challenge. I’ve eaten a snake banquet in La Met village outside of Hanoi, but once was enough. And dog tastes so gamey, it’s worse than the strongest pork. And honestly, although I have written a best-selling book called Fondue, I really don’t like cooking at the table.  

Are there any countries you are still craving to visit, or any “special” native dishes you still haven’t tried?

I am an ambitious eater, and drinker. I longed to taste alpine cloud berries, but was disappointed in Norway. Give me a juicy raspberry any day. On the Tibetan Plateau of Yunnan I always try the local yak butter tea, often with toasted tsampa buckwheat flour. Good, but not delicious. As for countries, Bhutan has long been high on my list, but it certainly is not a culinary destination. Surprisingly, I love returning again and again to countries and cities I’ve previously visited, learning ever more about them. As a tour host we personally scout all locations prior to a tour, and ditto as a travel writer. What I detest is an article or book that starts out with “When I first got off the plane….”  I want to read — and learn — from an authority, not an armchair travel writer who goes once and thinks he or she is an instant expert. I disliked Ant Egg Soup: A culinary Journey Through Laos for that very reason. But I admire Fuchsia Dunlop’s writings on China’s food.  

For pure relaxation, when you aren’t leading a tour, where is your favorite travel destination?

I adore Bangkok. It is such an exciting city, so much to see, so vast, and so creative. When I first started coming some 30 years ago, I loved its traditional arts and crafts. Today, it has gone well beyond that, becoming truly an international city, with international input, and local world-class art. We’ve also loved our journeys into Yunnan, China — it makes Thailand feel like a New World country by comparison.  

You donate a portion of the proceeds from your tours to charities and training programs in each country you visit. Which ones are you most proud of, that gave you a special glow after contributing?

We both felt most humbled when we donated $1,000 to a monastery in Yangon. This was the city’s largest, and normally housed some 1,300 monks, students and orphans. When we presented our donation, the head monk commented that $1,000 would provide a little more than one day’s nourishment. How so, I asked?  Three meals a day (less for the monks) at 25 cents per serving easily matched our $1,000 donation.

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