Koh Tao

We need a break from our travels. India took a lot out of us and we are fed up with people trying (and sometimes succeeding) in ripping us off. We’ve had enough of bargaining for food, lodging, water. We need a rest. And, we found a fabulous place to do just that.

We travel south, down the Thai peninsula on an overnight train. The train, like every other train we’ve taken here, is late. But, this time we are thrilled. The train was supposed to arrive at 4:50 am, but pulls in at 5:45—giving us almost a whole extra hour sleep! We take a bus to the pier and then a 3 hour ferry out to Koh Tao, Turtle Island. This small island in the Gulf of Thailand has beautiful boulders strewn picturesquely at the ends of crescent shaped beaches. There are fabulous coral heads encircling the island, and we explore them by snorkeling and scuba diving. Ethan and Siena are quite the novelty, as the youngest certified divers the instructors have ever met. We discover that none of our family quite fit into the usual demographic for the island. Everyone else is between 18 and 30, from all over the world, although almost no people from the US. Our dive boat has a British and a Canadian instructor, with one French man, an Israeli woman, three Germans and us. The diving is great. We’ve never seen so many anemones before, and the colors of the coral and the huge clams range from brilliant purple to a neon green. I’m afraid we don’t have an underwater housing for the camera, so you’ll just have to imagine.

As there are no weird animals for us to ride, we contrive to try some other conveyances. We rent a kayak one day and explore the nearby coves. We hear that the cove just to the east of where we are staying has some interesting snorkeling. The cove, nicknamed Shark Bay, lives up to its moniker. We see a dozen black tipped reef sharks, ranging from 1 to 2 meters in length. The water is only 1 to 2 meters and a bit murky, so the sharks appeared and disappeared in a rather eerie manner.

Taxi costs were prohibitive. When a round trip fare into the nearest town cost more than a night’s accommodation, we refused to use them. So, we rented motorbikes to explore the limited paved parts of Koh Tao. It takes us barely 15 minutes to go from one end to the other, although we toodled along very slowly. Unfortunately, I sprain my ankle hiking down to a view point/snorkel spot. At home, we advise Rest Ice Compression and Elevation (RICE). Here, where we’ve already had plenty of rice, we tried Rum Exercise by Snorkeling in the gulf of Thailand (REST). Sometimes the ice was on the ankle, sometimes the ice was with the rum. When I went to the pharmacy for an anti-inflammatory, the woman initially quoted me 120 Baht for the pills. I expressed surprise at the cost. She immediately dropped the price to 90 Baht. I hadn’t really been intending to haggle for my medicine, but I sure wasn’t going to argue and pay the 120. Suffice it to say, the recovery has been remarkably swift. I’m not a doctor, but I myself will be dosing with rum for all injuries from here on out.

We spent 4 days on Koh Tao. The cost for our bungalow, just meters off the beach, was less than $15/night. The kids had a more basic room, which was only $6. Thank goodness they gave us a $3/night /room discount for diving, or we might not have been able to afford it! We leave rested, and ready to resume our adventures.

Chock Dee!
The Beatties

Cambodia

For our next adventure, we bussed to Cambodia. We had heard the roads were terrible, but the main road had been partially repaved making the trip much shorter than all the scary estimates. You need to stay on main roads in Cambodia, as this country has the dubious distinction of having more landmines than any other country. We are told never to wander off well-trodden areas. Even if you are lucky enough to avoid any explosions during an amble, Cambodia is still blessed with numerous venomous snakes, and the walk could kill you anyway. We listen to a number of bands comprised of landmine victims, which reminds us that although the mines were left years ago, their killing continues today. Like this country hasn't had enough troubles. We learn of the 1 - 2 million people killed by the Khmer Rouge, who the people had originally welcomed as their saviors. This after invasions by Vietnam and carpet bombings by us.

Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? This temple complex is a short tuk tuk ride north of Siem Reap. The Khmer dynasty which built it lasted from 800 A.D to 1400 AD, which is a long time, as empires go. We are informed that the city here was the most advanced city of its day. Of course, this corresponds to a rather dark period for Western Europe, so not much competition from that quarter. This UNESCO World Heritage Site is one of the most awesome places we have visited. We hear it is the largest religious structure in the world. There are over 100 different temples in the area. It is commonly known by the most famous of the temples: Angkor Wat. when the temples were constructed.

The temple of Ta Phrom was our first stop, and my favorite. Have you ever seen Tomb Raiders? I guess this is where some of the scenes were filmed. It has been left largely as it was when re-discovered in the early 20th century. Here, we were able to explore everywhere, crawling into small passages, climbing to the top of steep towers. Here, towering trees threaten to topple the ancient temples. It looks like some sort of demonic giant sea creature engulfing the walls with their huge tentacles. There are lots of tall towers, and we tire ourselves in the hot humid weather, scrambling to the top with incredibly steep stairs. But, luckily, refreshment is close by...

Khmer food (the language and the food are referred to as “Khmer” not Cambodian) is similar to Thai food (as they say in this part of the world “same-same…but different). They use more spices, lots of coconut milk and less chilies. It is a bit more oily and blander, but still has a really fresh taste to it. We tried a Khmer Cake, which was like an heavy crepe, filled with chicken and shredded vegetables and topped with a sweet peanut sauce. Fabulous! The beer is very good, too. It is a bit confusing, as the two most popular lagers here are Angkor and Anchor. You try specifying which one you want after downing a couple! The town of Siem Reap has a party town atmosphere to it—like a Ft Myers Beach mixed with the French Quarter of New Orleans (before Katrina). Which means cheap beer was to be had everywhere. We had two for one and 50 cent drafts at several venues. We were also fortunate to see a traditional Khmer song and dance show. I think it must be hard wearing a replica of Angkor Wat on your head whilst dancing. As for the singing, I kept looking for the cat, which sounded like it was in horrible pain. No, the arts here are probably not my favorite (other, of course, than the culinary arts).

We rented bikes for a day. The back roads are a bit rough, and we had to return two bikes with flats, but had a marvelous experience riding on a dirt road, alongside the river. We attracted lots of school children practicing their English and felt we were miles and years away from the tourist trail. The houses are built on stilts both to protect themselves from floods—this entire area is less than 100 feet above sea level-- as well as to prevent the snakes from getting in.

Next, we are heading down the Thai peninsula to try out some beaches

Lerk Guy Oh! (cheers, in Khmer)

The Beatties

India, in name at least

Where have those crazy Beattie’s gone now? Ethan and Siena are glad to change the hot, dusty Rajasthan for this area in the far north. So where are they now? They have a snowball fight in the mountains in the background. In fact, they are standing at the base of the third tallest peak, over 26,000 feet high part of the highest mountain range in the world. These are the Himalayas. We fly from Delhi to Srinigar (deciding to go only after our Indian travel agent swore there had been no troubles in Kashmir for a long time, only to discover a protest with a death had taken place there the day before our arrival.). Kashmir lies between India and Pakistan. When the country was partitioned, Kashmir, despite having an overwhelming majority of Muslims, was named a part of India. We think the Kashmiris are still pissed about it.

Srinigar is like a cross between a western mountain mining town and the West Bank. It has two beautiful lakes and is ringed by high peaks. The buildings here have the steep peak corrugated tin roofs that we see in the Rockies. But, troops are everywhere as there have been any number of battles between India and Pakistan over the region. Kashmir is different from the part of India we have been in. The people mostly don’t speak Hindi. They are a different religion, eat different food, and wear different clothing.

Kashmir is about 75% Muslim. We are lucky ( we guess…) to be here for a special Muslim holiday. Hundreds of thousands of people (we are told a million, but all figures we were given are highly suspect, as I will relate later) have made the pilgrimage to this mosque. The mosque’s most prize possession is being shown to the throngs for the first time in over a year. At first, we misunderstand our guide’s accent and think they will be displaying Mohammed’s ear, which seemed a bit macabre. We travel by boat to the banks of the lake in front of the incredibly crowded mosque, where Kim decided it really was a poor idea for us to disembark. We continued around to a small park to have a picnic lunch before the 2:30 prayer and the main event. As we sat to eat, we were surrounded by a large crowd of people, four deep, all staring at us. The mosque’s relic seemed a poor second draw to the Beattie Clan. We felt as though we were aliens, which in a way we were. My headscarf hadn’t fooled them into thinking we belong. So, we retreated to the safety of our boat and watched the event from a safe distance. Mohammed’s hair was hard to see from our distance, but the sound of thousands of voices chanting in quasi-unison was amazing.

While many in India are vegetarians, Kashmiri’s are dyed-in-the-wool carnivores. They eat lamb in countless ways, and live chickens line the streets. Kim’s birthday is during our stay and I shop to make him a non-Indian meal (we need a break from the Indian food). When the bag with the chicken is thrust in my hands, I am shocked, exclaiming, “It’s hot! Have you cooked it?” Duh. Had the seller understood this city girl’s English, the whole block would have been in hysterics; the bird was alive hardly 5 minutes before…

Unlike the rest of India, there are no bright colors in the clothing here. Most of the women wear headscarves, and we see a small percentage wearing black burkas covering their faces, and small percentage wearing no head covering at all. The men virtually all wear long woolen cloaks, of varying shades of gray. They look like something Clint Eastwood would wear to conceal some big weapon. Perhaps a bit too good an analogy considering the history of violence here.

Ironically, Kashmir is famous for its beautiful and colorful textiles. This is where the famous yarn (of the same name but different spelling) was first spun, and we are approached by many people selling cashmere sweaters during our stay. But, even more famous here are the pashmina shawls, made of the neck wool of a specific kind of goat that lives only in these mountains. Of course, we are not here to shop (although we do ; - )), and we spend our time hiking and for the ultimate treat, we go skiing in the Himalayas. On the way to the hill, our guide points out the 3rd and 4th highest peaks in the world. The mountain he claims is the 4th highest he says is 19,000’. Well, we know that wouldn’t make it anywhere near #4. Feeding us with misinformation and trying to take us for all we are worth seems like India’s national pastimes, and here is no exception. We are initially told skiing in Kashmir is cheap, and then quoted 2500 Rupees/person (~$50) because of the expense of renting equipment. They attempt to “fit” us with boots and skis as we stand in the middle of a snowy field. When we insist on going into the ski shop, the price of the rentals is revealed to be $5 for each adult and $2.50 for the kids. We walk about a mile from the rental location to the base of the cable car (great planning, huh? I’m just glad my kids can carry their own &*^% gear). Finally, we ride the cable car to the highest lift serviced location in the world—14,000 feet above sea level. The 5.2 K run down is awesome, although the snow conditions alternated between crust and slush depending on the sun. The views are fabulous and there was virtually no one else on the mountain skiing, despite clear skies and warm weather. There were a couple of crowds NOT skiing. There were at least 100 Indian tourists up on the mountain posing on top of skis, and Kim skied into an army troop, hiking up the mountain, with machine guns slung over their shoulders. I steered clear.

We had been looking forward to staying put for the full 8 days of our visit. Such a luxury to not have to pack and unpack for a bit! We stayed on a “houseboat” on Lake Dal. Although we had visions of floating in a pristine mountain valley, the reality was a bit different. We were taken by shakara (shallow canoe) to our boat, which was moored alongside hundreds of others, with trash floating occasionally by. The locals’ way of combating the litter is the throw it behind the boats, where the tourists can’t see it so readily. We were a bit isolated for our tastes, although, perhaps this was for the best considering the tension all around. When we leave, we go through no less than 11 security checks, including two separate pat downs and four metal detector/ baggage screenings. We have found India very interesting, but are happy to finally board our plane and leave.

Salaam Ma Lekum (a: hello-how are you-fine and you-take care-good bye multipurpose phrase in Kashmiri)
The Beatties

Indian Culture

India is just plain different from the rest of the world. Part nuclear power, part third world nation, part cutting edge science (here’s a guy doing oral surgery on the street, oh dentist friends!), part belief in witchcraft, part democracy, part corruption, India has it all. And has it in spades! To my Indian friends: I hope I get this information right! Our driver and guide book are limited and biased, although not necessarily at the same time.

The caste system is unique to India. Your caste is your level in society, which you inherit from your father. Originally, this denoted what job you could hold. The top caste were (are) the Brahmins, the caste of the priests. The lowest caste was the Untouchables—people so lowly others were not to touch them. There are thousands of castes between these two. You remain in the same caste until you die, no matter if you make millions, cure cancer or devote your life to charity. If you live a virtuous life, you might move up to a higher caste in the next life. Only the Hindus follow the caste system. Not surprisingly, a large number of people who convert to other religions, such as Islam, Jain, Sikh and Christianity, are those from lower castes. It is a much quicker path to salvation than in Hindu if you are from a low caste.

India is the birthplace of some of the world’s oldest religions. Hinduism is the religion of the majority. 75 and 90% of Indians adhere to this 3000 year old religion. One of the primary tenets of Hindu is reincarnation. All souls will be reborn after 13 days; depending on the karma or quality of their previous life, they might return as an animal or a person in a slightly higher caste. Some people put sand on the floor at night after the death of a loved one. Any footprints found may tell them if the person has returned as a person or an animal, and what kind of animal. It is an endless cycle of life, death and rebirth. Hindus believe in 3 main gods, Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu, and thousands of lesser gods, most of whom are reincarnations of the first three. Interestingly, in Hinduism, Buddha is the 24th incarnation of Vishnu. The Hindus, therefore, consider Buddhism to be a part of Hinduism. There is something a bit ironic that Buddha, who told his followers that he was not a god and should not be worshiped, is a god in Hinduism. Buddhism, which also started here, does not have much presence in India anymore, not after the invading Moghuls insisted on conversion or death. The Hindu gods are an interesting lot. The top god, Brahma, creator of the universe, has been meditating since his original burst of activity. There are almost no temples dedicated to this most powerful god. Apparently, Brahma had a bit of a marital tiff that prevents temples from being dedicated to him. His wife was supposed to meet him for a ceremony. She was late. Impatient, Brahma quickly married another woman so that he could continue with the ritual. His wife, arriving on the scene, was understandably pissed at her husband for marrying someone else rather than waiting for her. Being a god herself, she cursed him, preventing temples from being erected to him for all posterity. His only temple in India, a place of pilgrimage for Hindus, is in Pushkar. At the foot of the temple, lies a beautiful lake, considered holy. People come down to the lake’s ghats (steps down to the water) to bathe and cleanse their souls. We drop flowers into the water. Gandhi’s ashes were sprinkled into the lake at a nearby ghat.

Here is a huge temple to Hanuman, god of protection. This is our driver’s personal favorite god, and he prays to him whenever he starts the car. We feel we should be praying to him as well, which anyone who has driven on the roads in India will understand. Hanuman, as you can see, has the form of a very buff monkey. Our family likes Ganesh—the god of luck and prosperity. He is pudgy guy with the head of a baby elephant. Despite outward appearances, the gods of Hinduism are so human—they are late, impatient, jealous, spiteful. I gather they have gods for everything—including a god of plastic surgery.

We visit one of the most famous Jain temples in the world. Jainism has practiced since 500 BC. (about the same time as Buddha was born). It is part of Hindu, but this sect believe all life is sacred. Most Jains are totally vegetarian, and do not even wear leather. Their priest sweep the floor in front of them to prevent accidentally stepping on a bug. One minor group of Jain priests go naked (no pictures, friends, this is a G Rated Blog), so that they don’t kill any bugs inadvertently. There are only (only!) 24 gods in Jain, but 21 deadly sins. We saw ancient painting of each of the sins, and the resulting specific punishment for each. The temples are beautifully carved, with intricate patterns. This temple is one of the most famous. There are 1440 columns, each unique, although you’d be hard pressed to see the differences. The temple gives us the impression of being in a light filled forest. They may have decried violence, but extortion is apparently not a sin, as we were approached by various priests demanding donations. But, the beauty and serenity of the place more than offset this.

Although the county had a female prime minister twenty-five years ago and currently has a female president, the women are definitely second-class citizens. Until the 1950’s, many women didn’t to show their face in public. Even traveling today, many women outside the big cities wear their saris over their faces. Arranged marriages are very much the norm. Girls used to marry when they were only 12 or 14 years old. Even now they will marry at 18, sometimes after meeting their husband only once or twice. The bride’s family must pay a suitable price for her to be married. The wife then goes to live with the husband’s family and is responsible for taking care of his parents. Working is considered unusual for married women, unless their husband’s job is so poorly paying that she must work. Daughters are considered far less desirable than sons. Today, the birthrate of females is lower than males, in some areas frighteningly lower. We are told selective abortions are fairly common.

On a happier note, I feel up to talking about the food now! Indian food is fantastic. The tastes are so unusual. We have wonderful dishes, spiced with cardamom and cinnamon. Cilantro and saffron flavor others. Instead of the meat or vegetable being the focus, the sauce is everything. They blend colorful and aromatic spices with chicken, mutton or vegetables and it is all delicious! In fact, the sauces are so good, Ethan and Siena, who have to be threatened to eat their requisite 3 bites of veggies at home, have gone days eating no meat. The flat naan and chapati breads are great, too, served piping hot out of the oven. We have lassies every day. This is a yogurt drink, flavored with fruit, or sometimes, nuts and spices. Our favorite is one with saffron, cardamom, raisins and cashew nuts. The only problem with the food being so good is that it is easy to fill yourself near the point of explosion. I will not finish my time in India with a Gandhi-esque physique, that’s for sure!

The clothing is unique as well. Men’s clothing is not so unusual. There are some turbans, and an occasional person wearing the dhoti—a diaper like white thing, but most men wear ordinary pants and shirts. But the women almost all wear the traditional garb. The saris and the silk long shirts over coordinating pants are gorgeous. No one wears neutral colors here. Yellows, bright reds and greens are woven into beautiful patterns, some with mirrors and metallic thread in them. Colors you couldn’t imagine in the same room are together in the same scarf, to wonderful effect. It is especially spectacular when a group of women are together.

Despite the Rajasthani outfits we wore in the last blog, we do not blend in easily here. In fact, we are getting a crash course in how to be a rock star. Today, outside a temple, I had a throng of more than 40 young girls, all wanting to say hello to me and shake my hand. Kim literally had to clear a path for me to get through. Every one wants to take a picture with their arm around us. Or, have us in the middle of their formal family portrait. We are told we remind people of movie stars, something we would be more willing to believe if the stars chosen had any hint of a resemblance to us. One salesman told Kim he could be Al Pacino while on the same day I was thought to look like Nicole Kidman. With my dark hair and Kim’s red hair and fair skin, I’m afraid I look more like Pacino and Kim like Kidman!

To end our time in this area of India, we went to the iconic symbol of India. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? Yes, this is an easy one. This building was erected for the memory of a man’s dead wife. She died after giving birth to the couple’s 14th child in only 18 years. Kim says the chances of him building me this kind of mausoleum are about the same as of my bearing 14 babies. Despite the hype and all of the images we had seen before, the Taj Mahal does not disappoint. It is beautiful and graceful, perfectly proportioned, enormous but balanced. It is a wonder. We stay for hours, watching the colors on the marble surface change as the sun started to set. Even with thousands upon thousands of visitors around us, it is an incredibly romantic place.

May we all have everlasting love,
The Beatties

India Part 1

We arrive in Delhi and quickly arrange a tour of Rajasthan with a car and driver. This is a completely different experience for us. Our transportation and accommodation, and even some of our restaurants, have been arranged. We have been persuaded not to take the public transportation as the cost will be similar and the delays more than we will be able to stand! Off we leave on a 2000 kilometer adventure into an Indian state known for its forts, the desert and its fierce inhabitants. Each of the major stops is associated with a specific color.

Our first major stop was the Golden City named for the sandstone used in all the buildings. Jaisalmer sits at the western edge of Indian civilization. On top of the highest hill around, the Jaisalmer fort sits like a giant sand castle. Jaisalmer reminds us of the medieval walled cities of Europe, especially Carcassone, without the turrets. But this is distinctly Indian flavor. Or, should I say aroma. India has more
smells than the other places we’ve visited both good and bad. On one street, we might smell wonderful Indian spices, but, as we turn a corner, there can be an overwhelming smell of urine. The cows wander everywhere,and many places smell like the barnyards of home. Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? This is another frontier. The Thar Desert stretches as far as we can see in all directions. Here, only camel paths connect the towns. We venture out into the dunes on top of four comely camels. Kim decides camels are his favorite animal of our trip. They are obedient, moderately comfortable, regal looking and cute! Mine was nicknamed “Michael Jackson”, but judging by the astonished looks of the camel drivers with my moon walking impersonation, I’m not sure they are really familiar with the notorious performer. The hills beyond the dunes in the distance are actually Pakistan. In 1948, when Britain granted independence to India, the land was partitioned into Hindu India and Muslim Pakistan. This turned out to be ill advised. After the initial killing of a million people, as each group fled to their new “homeland”, the hatred and mistrust between the two sides now intermittently flares up with murders and retributions. We are reminded of the tension as fighter jets fly low overhead. On the ground, though, we feel no such tension. Our camel drivers are 2 Muslim, 2 Hindi, and the spice store we visit is jointly owned by gentlemen from the two religions.

Our second major stop is in Johdpur, of riding pants fame. This city is called the Blue City, and the narrow streets are lined with blue buildings. The buildings were originally painted blue to show the residence of a Bramin, the highest cast in India. Now the blue color is more widely used as it rumored to keep the homes cooler and repels insects. We learned from our driver that the Maharaja of Johdpur has bad karma as his daughter is yet unmarried and his son , following a polo accident, is partially paralyzed. A temple in the fort above town was the sight recently of the violence between religions I mentioned earlier. A bomb last year in October killed over 200 people.

Udiapur, the white city is the city of love. There are wedding processions clogging the streets with load music and dancing. The groom is riding an elaborately decorated horse in the middle. Earlier, he was texting in the midst of the revelry. Last post I had a picture of Ethan playing soccer in Myanmar. Here, Ethan is playing cricket, the national obsession, with a group of local boys. I almost got gored by a "naughty" cow when I retrieved an errant ball.

If you asked me yesterday, I would have said the food is fabulous –some of the best yet. Today with a bad stomach ache and frequent trips to the toilet, the food is less appealing. We have a split decision on the Beattie Beer Index. Kim likes the Kingfisher while I find it too bitter. The cost is $1.20 on the street and $2- $2.50 in a restaurant for a liter.
The country here is brown and dusty (hey, we're in a desert, right?), but the clothing is incredibly vibrant. Here we are dressed in Rajasthany garb.
Yesterday marked the end of eight months traveling. Thanks to all we have met on the trip and our family and friends back home who have stayed in touch with us.

Jamatadi! (a word they use for cheers and also a name of a god, we think.)
The Beattie Clan

A Different Kind of Country

Where in the world are Ethan and Siena?? We get up really early to leave fly to this country. We are worried about clearing customs as we’ve heard it is difficult to enter the country. Not an issue! We breeze through, with the people at passport control as nice as they can be. Although the country is ruled by a military dictator with an iron fist, we see very little evidence of troops or police anywhere (unlike Russia or Egypt). This country has done a nomenclature switcheroo in recent years, changing not only the name of the country, but the name of the capitol city. The former we can understand; it was called Burma because of a mistake of understanding by the British colonialists, and difficulty with pronouncing the real name. As for the capitol, we never heard a real explanation why they changed from calling it Rangoon. They are in Yangon, Myanmar. Myanmar, and earlier Burma, do not usually make the international news for good reasons. Last year, Myanmar was hit with a huge cyclone (a hurricane that originates on the Indian Ocean), with an estimated 1 million people killed in the river delta. (Reports vary wildly.) Several years before, Myanmar graced world headlines when the government quelled a rebellion by shooting and arresting those pernicious Buddhist monks who were lobbying for democratic changes. For centuries, Burma was known for growing poppies—and selling opium. The last democratically elected president is currently living under house arrest, having never served a day as president.

Why did we choose to come here, you may be asking yourselves at this point. Well, two main reasons. First, Myanmar has been relatively isolated from outside influence and so the local culture is almost entirely intact. Also, one of Kim’s oldest friends in the world (not that he’s any older than Kim, but whom Kim has known the longest,) is teaching and living in Yangon. It turns out to be an amazing place to visit! Other than in the capitol, it is a bit like being in the early twentieth century.

The people all wear longyis—tubes of fabric that are wrapped and knotted into long skirts. At least 90% of the men and all of the women wear them. Ethan had a distinct advantage over his fellow soccer players. He didn’t have to continually re-tie his longyi and he was the lone wearer of closed toed shoes. The Burmese (the people and the language are still referred to as “Burmese”, not Myanmarese) prefer light skin and the woman and children wear a tree bark extract, a yellow salve, on their faces to prevent their skin from darkening. At first, it looks like there are bandages on people’s cheeks, but shortly we grow accustomed to the new in “look”.

The food here is like a combination between Indian and Chinese, but with more grease and less taste. Not so good. In fact, this is the first country we’ve not stuck with the local cuisine for our visit. We ended up going out for Japanese once, and had burgers at our friends’ house and out once. The beer and wine, on the other hand, are quite good. There are several different brands of local beer, and Scott has them all ice cold in his fridge in preparation for our visit (he’s been following our blog). We tried Myanmar brand beer—a nice lager, Mandalay, Dagon, Tiger, all decent, and, our favorite, Spirulina, an “anti-aging beer”. I gather it has some herbal supplement that’s supposed to make you look, act and feel younger (and get a healthy buzz at the same time). Now does that sound too good to be true or what?!! It is even delicious. We have no desire to find out if this doesn’t work, so: Nay Sayers, hold your tongues, please. The beer came in 20 oz bottles—can’t tell you why—that cost about $1.50. We also tasted the red wine. Pretty good, actually. Not worth importing, mind you, but nice with a burger.

We spend a few days up at Inlay Lake, about 500 miles north of Yangon. This is an unusual culture, based on fishing and hydoponic agriculture. There are acres and acres of vegetables grown in the middle of the lake, on mounds of seaweed, tethered to the lake bottom. The houses are all on stilts, and the local people have developed a technique to row their boats, standing, using only one leg, so that they had both hands free for fishing. The people were unbelievably friendly and so happy to have us in their country. Tourism, apparently, is virtually non-existent. We took hikes into the hill villages and people would literally come running out of the fields and out of their houses to greet us, offering us cups of tea and to visit in their homes. Few spoke any English, but our hiking guide would translate and smiles are a universal language. The people here are really off the grid. They run their own schools and health clinics. We passed 40 people from one village working together to repair their road. Everyone is responsible for working on common projects one day a week. They collected money from each family to buy a generator, which they hook up to a nearby stream to provide the village with all of its electrical power. We were told the government approached the village a few years ago about taxes. The villagers replied that the government gave them nothing, and they would give nothing in return.

There are several temples in the area. Some are surrounded with “stupas”, tall, pointy structures built by wealthy families to gain an in with Buddha (kind of like donating a pew in a church). This one here has hundreds of stupas, spilling down the steep hillside towards the lake’s edge. The stupas nearest the temple had been restored, but the rest had a wonderful, ancient feeling of eternity, with nature slowly reclaiming each one, thick vines climbing up and obliterating some, storms causing others to crumble. It looks like the opening scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

The most important temple in the country is in Yangon. Shwedagon, located in the center of the capitol, is nothing like the rural temples. It is gilded in, according to an official guide at least, 7500 kilograms of gold. Some of the Buddhas have flashing neon halos, and bright strobe lights. We joked that it was like “Buddha does Vegas”. The night we visited, the whole town seemed to be there. Everyone got a real kick out of our wearing the local longyi, loaned to us by Sandy. On our way in, we watched what we estimated was a million bats stream out of the top of one building, creating a black river of bats, extending for miles. It was an unbelievable sight, although I would recommend an umbrella for anyone considering watching from close by.

We visited Scott’s classroom and spoke to the students about our trip. They had as many questions as you’d think 30 eighth graders would have: none. Scott assigned Siena and Ethan each a book to read and a report to write. It was wonderful having someone else be their teacher—and a real teacher, too.

Since the Buddhists do not drink, there is no Burmese word for “cheers”. In the hill village we visited, though, they do have a word in their language-
Tan-to! (Pa-o for Health!)
The Beatties

Thailand, The West

Well, our plans got foiled a bit as our visas to Myanmar required an "interview". Without our passports, we couldn't go as planned to Cambodia, and rescheduled it for after the next two or three countries.

Because we didn't want to spend much more time in Bangkok, we trained over to Kanchanaburi. I loved this picture from the train. Unlike traveling in first class, third class is like a rolling party. There were no livestock on the train, but that's about all there wasn't. There must have been 10 different people offering various foods for sale, including ice cold beverages, grilled meats and unknown concoctions in plastic bags. One woman, returning from a farm, was tying together different vegetables, in packages for resale at her local market. She sold about a half dozen before her stop.

Where in the world are Ethan and Siena? Although it is normally the river that is the "Where", in this case it is the bridge and the railway that are. During the Japanese occupation of Thailand in WWII, prisoners of war and forced labor were driven like slaves to complete this railway. The bridge was built and shortly afterwards damaged. The railroad stretched for 405 kilometers, connecting Bangkok to Yangon, an area with such mountainous and jungle covered terrain that the engineers said a rail connection couldn't be built. 38 prisoners of war died for each kilometer of track laid. As for the bridge, it was memorialized in a highly fictionalized movie, with William Holden and Alec Guiness. This is the Bridge on the River Kwai. We visited the war cemeteries and walked part of the track, where it clung to the cliffs on rickety trellises. The railroad was dubbed the Death Railway--over 100,000 people died building it.

This mountainous region is also home to some beautiful waterfalls. We spent the better part of a day climbing up the 7 steps of Erawan Falls. Our favorite, level 4, has a natural slide. What a rush! After searching eagerly for a glimpse of the local Macque monkeys, one hit Kim and grabbed Siena's shirt before making off with another tourist's bag and throwing his camera in the river. This is what I call wildlife.

Riding on the roads in Thailand reminds us how different this country is from our own. How do you think these guys would go over in the states? We frequently see people dressed like terrorists, either on top of a truck, as pictured, or driving motorcycles. I have heard it is to protect them from the fumes. A piece of fabric over your face does exactly what to keep out fumes? Anyway, here, no one gives them a second glance, where as at home, we'd be running for cover.

The other sight that was everywhere was the image of the King of Thailand. At 82, he is the longest reigning monarch in history. Talk to a Thai citizen and somewhere in the first 3-4 sentences the phrase, "We love our king" is spoken. There are pictures of him lining the roads, in every restaurant and store we visited, plastered 20 feet high on buildings. Either he is truly beloved by his subjects, or the people want to be seen as incredibly supportive of him, as dissenters are not always treated kindly.

We have learned more of the Thai language, including being able to count to a 99. We like the numbers 7--Jet and 8--Bad. Unfortunately, as soon as we become comfortable with the language, it is time to move on.

So, Chock Dee, which means cheers, good luck, bon voyage, and just a general phrase for a positive vibe.

The Beatties