The King on the Moon

I was in my bookshop last night, updating the Daily Arrival list on our website, when I got a phone call from Chamrong, a friend in Cambodia. The connection was poor, so I had to ask him to repeat what he was telling me. Something about the moon.

“Go outside and look at the moon,” Rong urged me. “I think the moon in Bangkok is the same as Cambodia. You should go look.”

“What is happening with the moon?” I asked. “Is there an eclipse or something?”

“Look at the moon,” he repeated. “You can see the face of King Sihanouk!”

“Huh? On the moon?”

“Yes!” Rong exclaimed. “You can see his face! It’s King Sihanouk!”

So, with phone in hand, I wandered outside and looked up. All I could see were the damn Skytrain tracks, some large buildings and lots of wires. I turned in a different direction and more of the same, plus a massage sign and a few billboards. No sign of any moon.

 

“I can’t see the moon right now,” I told Rong. “There are too many tall buildings on my street. I’ll have to look later when I go home.”

“Yes, look later. You will see King Sihanouk’s face.”

 

Well, on my walk home, I finally did catch a glimpse of the moon. My eyesight isn’t so good, even wearing glasses, but I certainly couldn’t make out any image resembling the recently departed King Sihanouk of Cambodia. Hell, if you use your imagination and look at the moon, it could be anybody or anything.

 

“Look, there’s Gordon Lightfoot!’

“No, it’s Isaac Hayes.”

“Actually, that looks more like Richard Nixon.”

“You’re crazy, it’s Betty’s buttocks.”

I wasn’t about to tell my Cambodian friend he was nuts. No doubt this Sihanouk on the moon thing is some rumor that’s running rampant in Cambodia, as happens so many times over there. If they want to believe that their beloved former King is smiling down at them from the moon, go ahead and let them. Just don’t let it rain again tonight.

Mandalay Monks Revisited

On the other side of 90th Street in Mandalay, between 34th and 33rd Streets, is a rather large monastery, populated by nearly 100 novice monks. During one of my meandering cycling trips around town, I visited it for the first time during a trip last year, and returned again this month. I wrote down the name in one of my journals, but damned if I can find the thing when I need it. So whatever this monastery is called, it’s a lively one, and the novice monks in residence enjoy posing for photos — especially knowing that I’ll go a local camera shop and bring them back prints the following day!

 

One day I met a local man who had stopped by the monastery on an errand of some sort. He appeared to be a regular. During our conversation, when he was asking the usual “where do you come from?” sort of questions, one of the monks standing next to us told him that I owned a bookshop in Thailand. Good memory, kid! Here are a few shots I took during two recent visits to the monastery during the late morning “lunch” break.

 

 

 

Sweet Sixteen

I hadn’t circled the date on my calendar — and actually I can’t remember the exact date — but this week marked the 16^th anniversary of my move from the United States to Thailand. Holy jumping sassafras! To say that the time has flown by would be a definite understatement. But even after sixteen years, and a few bumps along the route, I wake up each morning very thankful, and very happy, that I am able to live and work in a magical, tolerant country. This still feels like paradise.

 

Actually, I haven’t spent the entire 16 years in Bangkok. I moved to Cambodia in 2002 to open a bookshop in Siem Reap. I stayed there for nearly two full years before I felt the tug of Thailand and moved back to Bangkok … to open another bookshop. What’s next? I like challenges and new places, so maybe a bookshop in Mandalay? Hmm. I’d be lying if I said that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. But reality screams back, telling me that that’s not going to happen: No way, dude! You’re better off staying in Bangkok. At least for now.

 

I’ve met many other Westerners who have relocated to Thailand. Some of them seemingly had no choice in the matter, having been sent here by their company for work. But many others, like me, moved to Thailand because they became disenchanted with their native country and felt that life in Thailand offered something different and exciting. In other words: something better. Some expats adapt and thrive here in Thailand, but others are bothered by the heat and chaos and can’t ever grasp the differences in culture and language. Still others find that they miss something — or someone — back in their homeland and end up moving back relatively quickly.

 

Me, I’m sticking it out and staying put here in this comfortably weird corner of Southeast Asia. I constantly follow news reports and get e-mails from friends back in the US, so I feel like I have a pretty good idea of what life is like back there. And it scares the hell out of me. Why would I want to go back to that sizzling pu-pu platter of insanity? If anything, a high percentage of Americans have become more intolerant, destructive, angry, and ignorant over the past few years. Looking at the field of pathetic Republican candidates running for president this year is frightening evidence of this downward spiral. How can so many members of the voting public support religious maniacs who spew lies and distortions? One candidate, Rick Santorum, appears to have a particularly bizarre obsession with sex, babbling on and on about what he defines as family values. But he’s a Catholic, those masters of guilt and hypocrisy, so his having such Victorian attitudes toward sex shouldn’t come as a shock. What is shocking, though, is that he has commanded so much support from the American voting public thus far. Then again, considering the warped “morals” of the religious right, Santorum’s views must be in tune with those of their own.

 

Charles M. Blow wrote an outstanding piece about Santorum’s sexual fixation (frustration?) in the New York Times last week. He used many excerpts from speeches that Santorum has given on the campaign trail to showcase that obsession. Here is one such example:

 

Santorum: “It comes down to sex. That’s what it’s all about. It comes down to freedom, and it comes down to sex. If you have anything to do with any of the sexual issues, and if you are on the wrong side of being able to do all of the sexual freedoms you want, you are a bad guy. And you’re dangerous because you are going to limit my freedom in an area that’s the most central to me.”

 

I’m inspired to borrow a portion of Santorum’s rant, change a few words, and throw it back at him:

If you have anything to do with religious issues, and if you are allowed all of the religious freedoms you want, you are a dangerous guy. And you’re dangerous because you are going to limit my freedom.

 

And these zealots ARE a very dangerous bunch. I think that by embracing religion — specifically Christianity — to such an extreme extent, America has lost its way to the highway and is headed for the ditch. A staggeringly high percentage of Americans think it’s more normal to pray about matters than to think them through logically. But of course logic or intelligence never enters into their thought process. They are more alarmed about premarital sex and gay marriage than the deteriorating environment or the poor quality of public education. Santorum’s mindset, and that of his religious supporters, vividly illustrates what turns me off about America, what scares me about America, and why I have zero desire to go back there.

 

Thailand certainly has its share of problems too, and more than a few idiot politicians are running loose. But at least they don’t use religion to blind the masses. In recent years, Thailand has suffered from floods, a military coup, Red Shirt protests, and Yellow Shirt protests. But I’d still much rather live here in this imperfect Asian kingdom than back in the misnamed land of liberty, freedom, and justice for all. From now on I think I’ll just call it the United States of Religious Loonies.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/03/opinion/blow-santorum-and-the-sexual-revolution.html?_r=1&src=recg

No-Fi, iZombies, and other notes

Business at my bookshop in Bangkok was very good in December and has continued to be strong so far this month, which is a big relief after the extremely slow days during the flooding mayhem in October and November. The Lunar New Year (“Chinese New Year”) holiday hasn’t officially started — that’s later this month — but we’re already seeing lots of travelers from the Asia region, taking their long holidays in Thailand or passing through Bangkok. And many Western tourists are finally trickling back into Thailand too. Maybe this year’s high season won’t be so dismal after all.

Not all people walking into my bookshop come to buy books. Inevitably, we get some laptop-lugging geek asking if we have wi-fi, the answer to which is a resounding “NO!” But the fact that we are wi-fi-less doesn’t stop many of the laptop slackers, or those with some other trendy iDevice that will be obsolete in six months, from laying claim to a seat at our front counter and “hanging out” for several hours, blissfully unfazed by the fact that they are monopolizing one of the few seats in the shop. They seem to think that ordering one cup of coffee entitles them to such privileges. Oh, if I had a grenade. What is it with the new generation and the bizarre sense of entitlement that so many of them flaunt?

Speaking of clueless, I continue to be amazed by the legions of electro-zombies stumbling around town — on sidewalks, in malls, on public transport — transfixed by their shiny new iDevices, totally oblivious to what’s transpiring around them. They are blissfully mesmerized by that little screen, furiously texting, or poking away at the screen of their iWanker. I find this e-addiction both humorous and frightening; a “perfect storm” of social engineering that I think will have a negative effect on civilized society. Well hell, it already has had a negative effect, but I think it’s only going get worse. But hey, as long as these folks have the latest shiny gadget in hand, they won’t care that their freedoms are quickly eroding, or that around-the-clock Big Brother surveillance is nearly here. You want “social networking,” well you got it, baby! It only confirms a long-held belief: most people are sheep.

I made my weekly trip to the Sizzler restaurant on Thonglor for dinner last Thursday night. After I had finished eating, one of the waiters told me that they would be closing down next week. That’s closing as in “for good”. Well, that threw me for a loop. I’ve been going to that particular branch of Sizzler on nearly a weekly basis for most of the past decade. For me, the big draw is their well-stocked soup and salad bar. It’s a chance for me to get a good balanced meal instead of just eating noodles or rice for dinner, or getting lazy and ordering a pizza. Anyway, it looks like I’ll now to find another substitute for my Thursday night meal. I suppose I could go to the Sizzler in Central World Plaza instead, but that’s a little out of my way.

Speaking of Central World, I did go there earlier this week and walked around the B2S branch, browsing the CD selection. I managed to not buy a single CD, remarkable restraint for me. But then again, they weren’t having a sale and I didn’t find anything on my wish list in stock. The B2S shop aside, Central World remains a baffling maze of shops, department stores, escalators, and obstacles — they even have a small ice skating rink. There is no logical pattern to the layout, a bit like Bangkok itself! After all these years, I still manage to get lost or turned around when I visit this retail monstrosity. But one thing I did notice at Central World — as well at other malls and restaurants I have visited this month — is that they STILL have those gaudy Christmas decorations on display. I’m tempted to borrow a wrecking ball from one of the nearby construction sites and initiate a bit of creative demolition. I’ll deck their fucking halls!

When leaving Central World, I debated on how to get home. I could walk back to the BTS Skytrain station at Chidlom, take the Skytrain to Ekkamai, and then get a motorcycle taxi the rest of the way home. Or I could walk across the street to the Pratunam Pier and take a water taxi on Klong Saen Saeb, the big canal that intersects the city. I opted for the boat and took it to the Thonglor Pier, whereupon I walked the rest of the way home. Easy. I hadn’t taken the water taxi in several months, and using this mode of transportation reminded me of how much I enjoy it. I used to be a regular boat commuter in the mid to late 1990s, those traffic-jammed days before the Skytrain or Subway systems were in operation and Bangkok commuters had more limited options. Despite the fact that the black klong water is horribly polluted, smells bad, and boat’s engines are loud as hell, I find the ride on the water is very relaxing. I don’t have to worry about being sideswiped by a passing motorcycle or breathing toxic bus fumes. And naturally there are no traffic jams — or even boat jams — on the klong!

One of the supremely cool customers at my shop — one that doesn’t sit at the counter and play with his laptop — is an American named David, just back from his first trip to Myanmar. Even though he’s from Philadelphia, and a Phillies fan, David’s a good guy, and I was happy to give him lots of pre-trip advice about traveling around the country. He reports that he enjoyed Myanmar very much and is already planning a return trip for later in the year. He made the usual circuit — Yangon, Bagan, Mandalay, and Nyaunghswe/Inle Lake — as well as heading west to the beach town of Ngwe Saung. He found a huge bungalow right on the beach for only $15 per night. Yes, bargains can be found over there, even during the high season.

Season’s Headaches

We’re now firmly in the middle of December, which of course means it’s almost time for that most annoying of annual holidays, Christmas. Yes, I’m one of those “Bah Humbug” types. I’ll spend the rest of the month trying not to visibly grimace when some unsuspecting soul wishes me a “Merry Christmas” or am forced to endure vapid Christmas music when wandering through the local shopping malls and supermarkets. As far as I’m concerned, this borders on torture.

When I first moved to Bangkok nearly 16 years ago, I naively assumed that I could escape the idiocy of the Christmas season, and the idiotic babblings of fervent Christians, by living in Thailand. But alas, that wasn’t to be. Although Thailand is overwhelmingly populated by Buddhists, the locals seem to think it’s cute to decorate department stores, restaurants and supermarkets with Christmas trees and other jingly, glittery crap. And hey, why not wear a Santa Claus hat and sing “Jingle Bells” while you’re at it! Sanook, na ka! Well, it’s not so sanook for those of us with little tolerance for Christmas or Christianity. My dream is go around to all the shops that are displaying trees and other gaudy decorations, whip out an industrial-sized lighter, and start setting fire to these seasonal atrocities. Whooomph! There’s your festival of lights!

Yet another disturbing aspect to “Festive” season here in Bangkok is the annoying appearance of Christian carolers on the BTS Skytrain carriages on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Why these groups are given permission to serenade (I think harassment is a more accurate term) passengers on the train is beyond my comprehension. Then again, maybe these are renegade bands of carolers who gleefully flaunt regulations in an attempt to spread their perverted brand of Christmas cheer. Whatever the case, I now purposefully avoid the Skytrain on those “special days.” Not only would the Christmas yodeling leave me fuming, I fear I would lose all control and either start spitting on the offenders or physically grab a couple of the louder carolers and hurl them onto the rails below. Hark! There’s a body on the tracks!

Earlier this week, I was in the back room of my bookshop when I heard an abrasive chorus of “We Wish you a Merry Christmas,” accompanied by the strumming of a guitar, coming from the front of the shop. I knew the culprits immediately: a group of peculiar Filipino minstrels who are always walking into local shops and serenading for money no matter which month it is. I rushed out of the room and literally chased them out of my shop, screaming obscenities at them.

As they slithered back out into the street one of my customers remarked: “Wow, I’ve never seen you get so upset like that!” No, it’s indeed rare to see me explode in such a manner. Normally I stay pretty calm even in the midst of occasional chaos. But I have zero tolerance for evangelical Christians who flaunt their bizarre religious views in public. And I especially detest those missionary types who travel to foreign countries with the aim of “converting” locals who they deem to be “poor, ignorant heathens” in need of saving. But hey, the Jesus-Lovers are obviously morally, culturally, and intellectually superior to the rest of us agnostic souls, so we should listen to them, right? Uh, no. Delusional and dangerous are better words to describe these Bible Belters. If they want to believe their fantasy tales and celebrate Christmas they are entitled to do so, but not in public places where the rest of us hope to escape such nonsense.

It’s also safe to assume that I wont be playing any Christmas music in my shop this month. As usual, the CD player will be blasting nothing but a medley of Satanic, devil-worshipping hits!

More Flood Worries

The first threat of flooding “danger” for Bangkok residents came and went last week without a ripple. We were assured that the biggest water threat had passed and everyone here breathed a sigh of relief. But all of a sudden, this weekend, we are facing a new threat, this one much more likely and potentially more catastrophic.

As reported by many news services, there is a huge volume of floodwater that has swamped neighboring provinces such as Ayutthaya and Pathum Thani. That water can’t be contained much longer and is headed towards central Bangkok. Klongs and rivers on the outskirts of town are starting to overflow. Roads are underwater. One major shopping center in the suburb of Rangsit has closed.

I live right on one of major klongs (canals) in town, the Saen Saeb. This klong, which bisects Central Bangkok, is used for commuter boat traffic (water taxis), but that service stopped operating earlier this week, presumably in anticipation of higher water levels, if not flooding. Every morning I look outside my window to see how high the water is getting. And guess what? There has been zero increase in the water level all week. If anything, it’s going down because of the decrease in rainfall the past several days. So where is this much anticipated/dreaded water that is supposed to be released via the klongs? It’s not like I’m looking forward to being surrounded by floodwater, but if they are going to start using the klongs to help drain the overflow, as reported the past two days, why haven’t they started already? And when, or if, they do start, how bad is it going to be? I’m safe and dry on the ninth floor, but what if I want to go anywhere outside, like to work at my bookshop? Will I need a raft? My bookshop is in a different part of town, much further from the klong, but might we also be at risk for flooding? The bank down the block has a chest-high wall of sandbags erected in front, so they obviously aren’t taking any chances.

Trying to get accurate news and updates about the situation is next to impossible at this point. The two major English language newspapers, the Bangkok Post and The Nation, update their website haphazardly, and the information they post is usually lacking in detail. You can also guarantee it will look as if a first year English student wrote it. Where are the editors when you need them? And don’t even get me started on Twitter alerts and other rumor-fed garbage. That just can’t be trusted for accuracy.

And so, we keep waiting not knowing what will happen. Here on Sukhumvit Road everything is normal — and surprisingly dry — as can be. Knock on wood, right? Who knows how long such normality will last. Meanwhile, my shop is open for business and on this Saturday we’ve had a steady flow of customers, some of them asking if I’ve heard any updates. I keep checking various local and international sites, but there is more news about people taking photos of Gadhafi’s body than pertinent updates about flooding in Bangkok. I think my best bet is to ask the fruit vendor down the street, she’ll know the latest.

Siem Reap

I spent four days in Siem Reap, Cambodia earlier this month. I ran the Lazy Mango Bookshop there from 2002-2004. Even though I’m based in Bangkok now, I to go back and visit friends in Siem Reap once or twice each year. I have fond memories of those days and the many wonderful Cambodians that I met. So Peng Thai and Chamrong both worked at my bookshop. Chiet and the Try brothers — Hoich, Hach, Channo, and Bo —- were all “street kids”, stopping by during the shop to chat (this did wonders for my Khmer language development), run errands for me, or help me dust the terminally dusty bookshelves (our front “gate” was always open — no AC, just ceiling fans — so the Siem Reap dust was a regular visitor). They were your typical irrepressible, happy-go-lucky kids, but not attending school at the time I met them. We soon fixed that problem.

 

It’s been satisfying to see them all “grow up” over the past decade. Rong is now a supervisor at the Siem Reap airport and belatedly taking a course to get his high school diploma. Thai is working as a licensed Angkor tour guide. He and his wife are expecting their second child early next year. Chiet didn’t get far in school but took a vocational training course and is now working as a welder. The oldest Try brother, Hoich, is now 22 and still hasn’t finished high school. He’s frustrated and wants to get a job and make some money. Thai is helping me find a vocational school or course where he can study motorcycle repair. Hach turns 20 soon and is happily going to high school and also studying English and various computer programs. I have a feeling that Channo will also go the way of Hoich and not finish school, but the youngest, Bo, who is 16, once again finished first in his class on the last round of exams. He tells me that he wants to be a doctor. Go for it kid! One notable absence from our old gang is Sophea, who used to run a shop in the town’s old market. She had the audacity to go and get married and then move to the USA about a year ago. The kids really miss her and are always asking me for updates on what she’s doing. One of these days we hope she’ll come back and visit us.

 

Siem Reap has changed dramatically since I lived there nearly a decade ago. It was never a particularly picturesque town, but it did have its pleasant side. Sadly, those last vestiges of charm are fading away with the increase in vehicle traffic and building construction. I’m not pleased with a lot of the growth I see. Along Highway 6, the road to the airport, there is such a glut of cookie-cutter hotels that many of them stand vacant or construction has halted. And yet, still more are being built. Must be high hopes for an increase of Chinese tour groups on the horizon.

 

I didn’t even go to Angkor this time. Other than taking a trip on the lake to Kampong Pluk (photos coming soon) I didn’t really go anywhere. Most of my time was spent meeting friends for meals, almost all of which were at the Hawaii Restaurant near Wat Bo Road. I’ve always liked the food there — from tasty pizzas and other western dishes to very good Khmer food — but for the Try brothers the real draw is their pool table. Game after game after game. And the family that runs the restaurant is always polite and friendly, offering typically charming Cambodian hospitality. Reason enough to go back!

Road Food

Here are some observations, opinions, recollections, and comments, culled from notes I took during my recent trip to Myanmar:

 

It rained a lot during the trip, which isn’t a shock because it was indeed rainy season. One taxi driver in Yangon did not have working windshield wipers, but he did keep one stray wiper on the dashboard of his vehicle, and when it rained he grabbed the blade, stuck his right arm out of the open window and wiped off the windshield that way. Hey, whatever works!

 

Many locals that I talked to are not fully convinced that tourist arrivals have increased as much as has been claimed. At the very least the money from those hordes of tourists has not trickled down to them. In the case of package tour groups, many of them come on pre-paid deals and don’t spend much once they are in the country. Other high-end tourists often cocoon themselves in their swank hotels and never venture out into the dusty streets of the cities and towns of Myanmar, thus depriving local merchants of extra income. And then there are the backpackers, a notoriously stingy lot who insist on bargaining for the cheapest deals or just plain don’t spend any more money than absolutely necessary … except when it comes to beer.

 

The Inwa bookshop in Yangon — the one that used to be located across the street from the Traders Hotel — has moved to Pansodan Road. It was at Inwa where I finally — after checking a dozen shops in Mandalay and several more in Yangon — found a Burmese language edition of “Organic Farming” by Cho Han Kyu that a friend had asked me to buy for Daw Tin Tin Nu at the Maing Thauk Orphange. At first, the clerks at Inwa denied having the book until I told them that a friend in Taunggyi, May Hnin Kyaw, had bought a copy at this same store the previous month. With the help of my Yangon buddy Aung Zay, we located the book and then Aung Zay arranged to have it sent to Daw Tin Tin Nu. Adventures in book buying!

 

In Nyaungshwe I saw two boys walking down a road riddled with mud puddles, arms around one another, huddled close together … so they could both share the same set of ear buds and listen to music.

 

Wandering through an atmospheric grove of old stupas and temple ruins on the outskirts of Nyaungshwe that I had stumbled upon last year, I was saddened to see that a head had been decapitated from one particularly lovely statue. Reminds me of the depressing temple vandalism that’s robbed Angkor of some of its precious artifacts.

 

I re-stocked the first aid kits at two schools in Nyaungshwe, and also brought more medicine for the novice monks at Shwe Yan Pyay monastery. The most “popular” medicine was anti-fungal cream used to treat head lice and other skin problems. There was such a demand from the monks, both at the school and at the monastery, that I had to go to two more pharmacies to buy enough for everyone.

 

One of the things I like best about Mandalay is the variety of teashops all over town. But these are not places you go just to sip a cup of tea. Teashops are where many locals go for breakfast and lunch, or just to shoot the bull with friends over a cup of tea … or juice or even coffee. There are plenty of big, shiny teashops where the waiters all wear uniforms and the menus are extensive, but there are also some smaller and funkier joints too. One of the little teashops I like to visit is near the railway station. It’s open 24 hours, looks a bit grimy, and the waiters are a rag-tag bunch of kids who aren’t lucky enough to have uniforms. But they have very tasty monhinga and every time I leave them a tip the waiters take turns shaking my hand. Politeness and appreciation are rampant over here. I like it.

 

One time at Minthiha, one of the “big and shiny” Mandalay teashops, I was asking Yan Naing Soe, one of the waiters, to help me pronounce a word in my Burmese dictionary. Another customer, walking by my table, stopped and asked if he could help me. No, but thank you anyway, I replied. These people are just so nice.

 

As much as I love the noodle dishes and other food at teashops in Mandalay, my favorite food is in Nyaungshwe. The Unique Superb Food House was excellent as always, but the best meals I had were at the homes of friends like Htein Linn and Ma Pu Su. Fabulous soups, salads, and curry dishes. And the vegetarian feast that we were served at the school ceremony at Tat Ein village was the best of them all.

 

In Mandalay I had to diplomatically juggle trishaw drivers, even though I didn’t really need their services very often because I had a bicycle. But when you hear tales of woe such as “I haven’t had any customers in 4 days,” you feel like you need to throw a little business their way. The guy that normally hangs outside my hotel, Maung Lwin, wasn’t around the night I arrived, so I used Hashim, a fellow I met about six years ago, to take me to Aye Myit Tar for dinner. I used him once more before Maung Lwin turned up again. He’s been meditating. I also bumped into two more guys I’ve used many times in the past: Myint Shin and Mr. Htoo. Myint Shin excitedly told me about the trip he’d taken two months previously: a Canadian couple hired him to travel with them around the country for three weeks. Not only was he paid well, Myint Shin got to experience air travel for the first time. And here I thought that giving monks a ride in an elevator was something special!

 

When I took the kids from 90th Street in Mandalay on the trip to Yankin Hill, they all brought along individual supplies of candy and gum, which they were more than willing to share with me. One of their favorite treats was packets of drink mix; the sort of instant sugary crap like Tang and Ovaltine that you mix with water. But these kids cut to the chase and just dumped the stuff into the palm of their hands and ate it that way. They also gave some to the monkeys at Yankin Hill.

 

In Bagan, I cycled to an isolated old pagoda to watch the sunset one day, accompanied by the young “Maung Maung Brothers” (Zin Maung Maung and Phyo Maung Maung) from New Bagan. They practiced their English with me in the form of a restaurant role play. I was the customer and they were the waiters. I would place orders such as; 2 plates of beef curry, 1 plate of tomato salad, and 2 bowls of vegetable soup. When I asked for 6 bottles of beer and 10 mangoes, they thought that was hilarious.

 

While in Nyaungshwe I went to the nearby village of Maing Thauk one day to visit the girls’ orphanage. A friend of mine from Hawaii had spent time last year at that orphanage, where she taught English classes and helped them start an organic farming project. When I told her I was going to visit, she sent me some DVDs and music CDs to take to the girls. The girls were positively thrilled with the gifts, but they also asked about my friend and wanted me to send their best wishes to her. It was obvious they missed her very much, and it was very heartwarming to see such gratitude and adoration from the kids. If my friend didn’t realize how much she is missed and cherished, she should by now!

 

At the airport in Bangkok I was struck by the hordes of badly dressed tourists parading around the terminal, some of them dressed more like they were taking a stroll on the beach rather than about to board an international flight. And of course there were a few of those befuddled “socks and sandals” characters in short-shorts wobbling around too.

 

This was a much more expensive trip than I had envisioned. Sure, there were unplanned expenses like buying all the school uniforms in Mandalay, but there were other complications too. The falling exchange rate was the biggest factor. Two years ago you got 1,200 kyat for one US dollar. Last year the rate had dropped into the 900s. This year the highest rate I got was 820 kyat in Yangon, and the lowest 750 kyat in Nyaungshwe. Rumors are that it may drop even further this year. At all hotels and guesthouses tourists must pay in US dollars, and those rates have also risen. Last year’s $20 hotel is now $25, for example. So much for bargain travel!

 

In between power cuts in Mandalay, I occasionally turned on the TV to catch up with world events on BBC. One day they had a feature on the “Digital Divide” and how various organizations are keen to give students in poorer countries free laptop computers, as well as trying to give them widespread online access, introduce them to cloud computing, and so on. Those sound like noble goals, but are they practical? I travel around some very poor regions in Southeast Asia and I see many towns and villages with not only no internet access, but no electricity, Free laptops for students? That will just give the kids another option for playing games. Honestly, people in the “developed” world are so obsessed with technology and gadgets, that they forgot that millions of other people around the world don’t have the luxury of playing with all these iThings, and quite frankly they don’t NEED all that crap. Before they start tackling the digital divide, perhaps these techno types might focus on more pressing issues in the third world: safe communities where children can play without stepping on landmines or being shot; roofs that don’t leak; schools with well-paid and properly trained teachers; dependable sources of healthy food and clean water. And keep your poisonous religion mumbo-jumbo out of the mix while you’re at it!

 

On my last night in the country I was in Yangon, and as I usually do, I had dinner alone at the Traders Hotel. Their dinner buffet is one of the best value-for-the-money meals in Asia. Not the most sumptuous of spreads, but more than good enough to justify the price. It used to be $16, but now it’s gone up to $20, which is still a very good deal. As I was dining, a middle-aged Burmese man approached my table and introduced himself: U Myint. He asked if I was enjoying my stay in Myanmar and of course I replied that indeed I was. Like so many locals that I’ve met here over the years, U Myint was sincerely happy that I was visiting his country, and expressed his appreciation for my visit.

 

The tax man is back! As of June 1, there is now a domestic departure tax at airports around the country. I discovered this new surcharge when taking a flight from Mandalay to Heho. I didn’t mind paying the 1,000 kyat (about US$1) tax so much, but the totally unorganized “system” they are using to pay the tax made me quite angry. In Mandalay, there is a tiny circular booth stuck in one corner of the terminal, staffed by three people who examine your ticket, take your money and painstakingly write out a receipt. This muddy process is slowed down even further by the fact that there is no queue system in place at this booth. It’s a total free-for-all; people pushing and jostling to slap down tickets and money on the counter, urging the overworked staffers to process them as quickly as possible. Chaotic? It’s beyond insane. This is the first time I’ve ever lost my temper in Myanmar. Really, I got so frustrated I started shouting. And then a funny thing happened after I started my crazy act; my ticket and tax were processed rather quickly.

 

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!