Full Moon Festival

I timed my trip to Bagan so that I could attend the annual Ananda Pagoda Festival, one of the biggest such temple fairs in the country. Ananda is one of Bagan’s most revered pagodas, and the famous festival draws people from all over the country. The date for this festival, as is the case for other similar events in Myanmar, falls on – or in the case of this multi-day festival, around - the night of that month’s full moon.

Trucks and buses packed full of party-hearty folks from the countryside can be seen riding around Bagan during festival week; the passengers clapping, laughing and singing songs. Festive is certainly the appropriate term for the atmosphere. Bullock carts pulled by white water buffaloes camp out for several days on the festival grounds. Visually, it’s a nice sight, but you have to be careful where step; it becomes a minefield of cow patties.

The surrounding grounds of the temple are occupied by a sea of vendors, selling merchandise and food of every imaginable type. Frankly, it gets a bit junky, resembling a gaudy Asian flea market, but the locals seem to love it. In addition, there are song and dance performances (and always frightening spectre of shrill karaoke), puppet shows, and on the outskirts of this shopping eyesore are traditional amusement rides such as merry-go-rounds and a Ferris wheel. The latter is quite a sight: it’s propelled by human hands (and feet) as opposed to electric means. All of which makes a spin on this Ferris wheel more than a bit of an adventure. When they want it to stop, a group of four or five young men will jump up and grab onto one of the carriages and pull it back to earth. It sometimes takes them several tries before they are successful.

The morning of the actual full moon day is dedicated to a colorful ritual where the pagoda’s monks are given offerings. The donations become a deluge; thousands of people bringing a variety of items (food, money, toiletries, etc.) for the monks. These are normally placed in bowls or small baskets and then displayed on a long stage outside the pagoda.

After the early morning ceremonies (sadly, I didn’t get up early enough on the big day to see the start of it) have finished, the monks, nuns, local villagers, and foreign tourists all mingle around the pagoda compound, snapping photos, chatting, and receiving blessings. Some of the young novice monks could be seen playing games or enthralled by the sight of vendor blowing up helium balloons.

I made two daytime excursions and one nighttime visit to the festival, making the multi-kilometer journey from New Bagan on bicycle with Tun Tun and Min Min each time. My legs survived the semi-hilly ride in pretty good shape, but the hard, wobbly bike seat absolutely tore up my posterior. Each time we were in the area we paid a visit to the nearby Misan Restaurant in Old Bagan for some good eating. Run by the personable U Soe Tin, Misan offers a variety of inexpensive Burmese dishes, most of them accompanied by a spread of vegetable dishes. I’m always stuffed when I leave the place. For a restaurant in a very touristy area, the quality of the food and service at Misan is surprisingly high.

09:43 PM PST Permalink |

Books for Bagan

Bagan native Win Thuya decided that the youth of his hometown needed a place to study and have access to reading material. Even though he is now living in Yangon, where he works for the Gulliver Travels tour agency, Thuya found time to open the Kuthodaw Library late last year. Thanks to assistance from friends and his employer, Thuya was able to rent a vacant building, put in some bookshelves and tables, and stock a small selection of magazines and books.

During my recent trip to Myanmar I finally got the chance to meet Thuya. He dropped by my hotel in Yangon to pick up a bunch of books for the library; some that I had brought with me from Bangkok (mostly children’s titles), as well as another big bagful that local writer Ma Thanegi had donated. Thuya is an earnest, thoughtful young man who is dedicated to this library project. He admits to getting discouraged at times, lamenting that many young people in New Bagan only want to read fashion magazines or sports newspapers. Currently, Kuthodaw has over 30 members, but they are trying to encourage more local students to learn about and use the library. Eventually, they want to add computers for a proposed multimedia room. “I will not give up,” Thuya promises.

A few days after I met Thuya I visited the library in New Bagan. It’s located just off the main road (on a side street, next to a teashop) near the town’s morning market. I went there one afternoon with two local boys I know; Tun Tun and Min Min. They had not been to the library yet, so this trip was enlightening for them as well as for me. The library doesn’t yet have electricity so they are only open during daylight hours. Thuya’s sister, along with a few other volunteers, help to run the library. They told me that most patrons visit on Sundays, when students don’t have to attend school.

The library is just starting and they need more English language books in a variety of categories. Currently, most of the books are in Burmese and come from Thuya’s personal collection. If anyone is interested in donating books or money for the Kuthodaw Library project, you are welcome to contact Win Thuya directly, or drop off books at my shop in Bangkok. You can find the link to the Kuthodaw Library website (which includes Thuya’s e-mail information) under the “Favorites” list on this page.

01:06 AM PST Permalink |

Move on Over!

A letter to the editor in Bangkok’s The Nation newspaper this week suggested that both the BTS Skytrain and MRT Subway operators should make announcements and urge passengers to stand on the far right-hand side of escalators at all stations. By doing this, the letter writer said, riders that are in a rush to reach their destination sooner would be able to “safely bypass” the slowpokes that prefer to stand in one place, “rather than the current situation whereby many users are blocked throughout the system from making any headway.”

An interesting idea, but I doubt anything will come of it. For one, it requires the cooperation and attention of those that like to stand in the middle of escalators (and stairs). These folks are, and will remain, oblivious to the presence of the other commuters surrounding them. Most of these zombies are usually doing one of the following activities: chatting on their cell phone, sending text messages on their cell phone, starting at photos on their cell phone, or singing along with their iPod. Regardless of the diversion, it prevents them from noticing that other commuters are attempting to use the same escalator/stairway/path.

Another factor that will prevent such an organized system from being implemented: this is Thailand, and most locals are not in a hurry whatsoever. They do not rush around with the same breathless abandon that is exhibited by many of us foreigners. Moving quickly equates to sweating, and that is simply not done here. “Easy does it” could not be a more appropriate motto for Thai pedestrians. But even the term “Thai pedestrian” is somewhat of a contradiction in terms. Most Thais hate to walk anywhere. They would rather hop on a bus or motorcycle to journey the equivalent of one city block rather than walk that same distance.

Since I returned to Bangkok this week I’ve been subjected to bag checks by security guards at the station entrance each time I have used the subway. This new security measure is no doubt in response to the New Year’s Eve bombings in Bangkok. I don’t mind these very quick bag checks but I have to wonder if they are effective. Are these security guards trained to know what to look for? And can these cursory checks really prevent someone from bringing dangerous devices into the stations? Curiously, there have been no similar security changes at BTS Skytrain stations.

08:40 PM PST Permalink |

Oh, Yangon!

While not as noisy, polluted, or chaotic as Bangkok, the streets of Yangon are becoming increasingly full of traffic, and the sidewalks are overflowing with vendors hawking all sorts of merchandise. But unlike their comrades in Bangkok, the street sellers in Yangon are very vocal, loudly proclaiming the virtues of their products as pedestrians continually stream past. For some strange, wonderful reason used books can be found in abundance; both in proper shops and out on the sidewalks. But don’t go expecting to find any recent best sellers. At one shop I entered there wasn’t a single book on the shelf that was published in the past 30 years.

I discovered some good new restaurants this visit, thanks to recommendations from a couple of hospitable and knowledgeable Yangon residents. Ma Thanegi introduced me to Monsoon, a delightful restaurant on Thein Byu Road, only about a block from the river. Not only does Monsoon serve excellent meals (in addition to Burmese cuisine they also have Thai, Lao, and Vietnamese dishes), displayed throughout their attractive three-floor building are artwork, glassware (from the famous Na-Gar Glass Factory), books, paper umbrellas, and other native handicrafts. They even stock Ma Thanegi’ book about Myanmar Cuisine!

Myriam Grest, the owner of Myanmar Travel Ltd., took me to the brand new branch of L’Opera, located in a refurbished old home on the lakeshore next to the Dusit Inya Lake Resort. Scrumptious Italian food served in an attractive outdoor garden. Being in the company of the vivacious Myriam, her personable daughter (who attends ISB in Bangkok), and her industrious office manager made for a splendid evening.

I returned one afternoon to Happy World, an amusement park located in the vicinity of Shwedagon Pagoda. I had promised the staff photographer at the park that I would bring him some of the photos that we took together last year, plus I wanted to take a dip in one of Happy World’s large swimming pools. Thankfully, the weather was warm enough to permit such indulgences. A couple of boys at the pool befriended me and after a swimming session (I passed on joining them for a plunge down the giant slide) they invited me to a bumper car duel, and later a round of darts (the game involved picking a number and then trying to aim your dart at the corresponding number on a nearby wall). And to top it off, these two kids, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, paid for it all!

I also paid a couple of visits to the Mandarin Restaurant, my old reliable dining spot near Mahabandoola Park and Sule Pagoda. The couple who run the place always remember me, greeting me like a long lost relative. The food is nothing fancy, but it’s consistently good, and the prices are affordable. And if you’re lucky the electricity won’t go out during your meal.

01:28 AM PST Permalink |

Smiling Faces … sometimes

As much as I love visiting the many historic sights and beautiful places around Myanmar, it’s the people that make each trip so memorable and rewarding. I enjoy taking photos of them and looking at those pics again and again: lots of delighted smiles, a few puzzled expressions, and some looks of total wonder. When I’m lucky the camera helps to capture and preserve those fleeting magical moments.

12:09 AM PST Permalink |

Discovering Bago

Bago is only about a 90-minute drive from Yangon, making it an ideal destination for a half-day trip, or as a place to break up the journey to or from Kyaiktiyo (Golden Rock). There are several pagodas of historical interest in the town, including Myanmar’s tallest pagoda (114 meters high), Shwemawdaw Paya. There is also a very long reclining Buddha (longer than the famous one in Bangkok), and the huge four seated Buddha figures at Kyaik Pun Paya.

Bago is also home to Kha Khat Wain Kyaung, which is one of the largest monasteries in the country. If you wake up early enough you can witness the spectacle of hundreds of the resident monks making their alms rounds in the pre-dawn hours. Visitors are also welcome to stop by the monastery during the day to observe the monks studying or having their late morning meal.

My motorcycle driver in Bago was a friendly fellow that knew all the best places to go. Besides the usual bevy of pagodas, he found a nice hilltop sunset spot, and a good restaurant, the Three-Five, where I enjoyed a delicious meal and a much needed cold beer.

But the thing I found most interesting in Bago was the lively morning market. Located on a side street near the Bago River, the market is full of vendors selling everything from flowers and fish to pepper and vegetables. The morning I strolled around the premises there were no other tourists around, making me more the center of attention.

04:52 AM PST Permalink |

Heart of Golden Rock

During my Myanmar trip I posted one story about my visit to Kyaiktiyo, more commonly known as Golden Rock, but to do this spectacular site proper justice, here are some of the photos from that journey.

Gazing upon the rock itself is an awesome experience, but taking in the view from the top and watching the spectacle of the legions of Buddhists as they make the exhausting pilgrimage to the mountaintop is also a rewarding sight to see.

For a small fee porters will carry your bags up and down the hill. But it’s not the foreign tourists that make use of this service as much as the tourists from Myanmar, who pile as many bags as they can into the porters’ baskets.

Using stretchers, a team of porters will also carry people up and down the mountain. Normally, the only ones that make use of this special service are the physically handicapped or elderly.

Once you have reached the top, there are observations decks on several levels that enable visitors to view the rock and the surrounding mountain ranges.

It’s also quite common to see groups of monks, including novices, making the pilgrimage to the top.

Bathed in light at night, the rock glows with a brilliant radiance.

Offerings of food and flowers are given and sticks of incense are burned throughout the day and night.

People of all ages, from all over Myanmar, make the trip to Kyaiktiyo.

Children sell homemade horns. The sound the horns make is very loud!

At times the narrow road gets jammed with porters and pedestrians, and once in a while a truck will join the fray.

Pilgrims can approach the rock and apply more gold leaf to its surface. Women, however, are not allowed to touch the rock.

There are a few other interesting stupas along the trail to the top.

09:11 PM PST Permalink |

On the Soi again

Back in Bangkok today, strolling past the busy sois, chaotic traffic, and vendors selling all sorts of crap on the sidewalk. I was happy to see my regular fruit vendor on the way to the bookshop: a sure sign that life is back to normal as I return from my latest trip to Myanmar.

I woke up at 5:30 this morning at the May Shan Hotel in Yangon. Started to finish packing my bags and then the electricity went kaput at about 5:45. Not an uncommon occurrence in Myanmar. If you get through a day when the lights do NOT go out, it's pretty much a miracle. I finished packing by flashlight and then rushed downstairs to get the taxi that was waiting to take me to the airport. The Yangon airport is a weirdly organized building with baffling systems for checking in and, when arriving, claiming your baggage (especially, for some reason, on domestic flights). My Air Asia flight left only slightly late and we arrived in Bangkok pretty much on schedule.

But oh, this new Bangkok Airport, the one they call Suvarnabhumi (pronounced: "Soo-wanna-poom"): I don't like it whatsoever. Actually, it's not as horrible as I had feared. Getting to and from this airport, at least at five in the morning and on a Sunday, is fairly painless. More expensive than the trip to Don Muang, but not as bad an ordeal as I had expected. But I detest the long check-in lines and congested areas inside the terminal. Because there is not enough room, you run the risk of being run over by the dudes that are pushing long trains of baggage carts through the terminal. The layout design of the terminal appears to be the work of a blind person. Did no one think of the term "user friendly"? The interior is also dim and spooky, especially in the pre-dawn hours. There is more lighting outside the terminal than inside the building. Very weird. And the P.A. system they use is virtually useless: the murky sound gets lost in the cavernous reaches of the roof. Really, it's almost impossible to understand anything that is being announced. Good things to say about the airport? Umm, let me think. Well, the immigration process was very fast and efficient, and claiming my baggage didn't take too long either. Other than that, poor signage and all those damn shops selling expensive merchandise make want to spit. In fact, I think I did. Several times.

I went straight from the airport to my bookshop, only stopping at Subway for a sandwich (my first meal of the day), and a few bags a fruit from my vendor pal. I've spent the rest of the day catching up on book arrivals, wondering what to do about our leaky air conditioners, and downing several cups of good fresh coffee. Ah, it feels good to be back home again. Myanmar was great - and this was an especially amazing trip - but I love being back and feeling the familiar rhythms of Bangkok.

04:37 AM PST Permalink |

Let's Get Lost

Getting lost can lots of fun. In fact, when it comes to travel, wandering around a strange new city - or village - and losing your way can provide for some memorable and magical moments.

Two days ago I took a boat ride on Inle Lake, the majestic body of water in Myanmar's Shan State. The huge lake is surrounded by a ring of green mountains, but it's most famous for the unique "leg rowers" on its water; local fishermen that use one of their legs to help navigate the boat. There are many small villages dotting the lakeshore, one of which is Maing Thauk. In this particular village there is a lively market, several monestaries (including one "Forest Monastary" at the foot of the hills) and an orphanage for both boys and girls. The orphanaged are run by a very nice man named U Tet Tun. All the children that attend the Maing Thauk orphanage are not necessarily orphans. Some live in nearby villages (many of which belong to the Pa-O minority group) but are either too poor to attend school or live too far from the town itselfto be able to go to classes on a regular basis. So they are allowed to stay at this orphanage and attend school in Maing Thauk.

I had visited Maing Thauk when I was in the area last year and wanted to go back again and make a donation to the orphanage. Chatting with U Tet Tun is also a rewarding experience. To do what he has been doing requires boatloads of dedication and patience. On this day tThe boat driver dropped me off at the lakeshore and gave me vague directions to both the orphanage and nearby monastary. Somehow, after passing the market and the secondary school, I made a wrong turn and got myself totally disorientated. I turned around, to what I presumed to be the correct direction, and looked towards a range of mountains, hoping that orientation would set me straight. Just up the dirt road I spotted two monks walking, but before you know it they disappeared somewhere off to my right. Monks equal monastaries, so I figured if I could follow them, I'd get to where i wanted to go. Forget the yellow brick road; I'll follow the saffron robes.

When I reached the spot where I had last seen them, I noticed a narrow path winding through dense foliage. I saw the two young monks - novices obviously - up ahead and walked quickly to catch up with them. One was munching a bunch of sunflowere seeds and seemed startled when I greeted him in Burmese. I asked him and his partner if this was the road to the monastary, and they applied in the affirmative. I thanked them and continued on my way. A couple of minutes later I passed a village woman who was carrying a basket of produce on her head. I also asked her about the monastary and orphanage, and she directed me onwards. Not only that, she stayed with me (no small feat, seeing as how I'm a very brisk walker) and gave me more exact directions. I thanked her, slipped her some money (which brought a big smile) and within two more short minutes I was at the entrance to the orphanage. I don't think I would have found it - certainly not without making more wrong turns - if it hadn't been for the help of the basket lady and the two monks.

I'm back in Yangon today, hoping to catch up with a few friends, enjoy more fine meals (no matter what you hear, there is some excellent food to be found in this country) and see a new sight or two before I return to Bangkok on Sunday. More stories - and tons of photos - will be coming shortly.

11:49 PM PST Permalink |

The Robes to Mandalay

On the road again today; flight from Mandalay to Heho and a bumpy road into Nyaungshwe. The weather is a bit chilly here, but it's not nearly as frigid as it was three nights ago in Pyin U Lwin. Damn close to freezing. Not the sort of weather that I am used to, and I was glad to return to Mandalay where I didn't have to wear three layers of clothes to bed.

I am almost positive that Myanmar has more monks per square kilometer than any place on earth. The men (and boys) in robes are everywhere! Some monks, the novices, appear to be as young as six-years-old at some monastaries. I spent a good portion of my stay in Mandalay visiting pagodas and active monastaries, and struck up conversations with dozens of curious monks. I brought a book to one of them, a fellow named Sittila, whom I had met last year. Sittila, who is in his late twenties, is a voracious reader and teaches English to the younger monks at his monastary. The first day I arrived, he was not around, having gone to visit Mandalay Hill (a good spot for monks and students to practice their English with foreign tourists), but I caught him the following day.

Earlier today I stopped by a monastary just north of Nyaungshwe, the town closest to famous Inle Lake. This particular monastary has funky looking circular windows and lots of old teakwood carvings. The monks there, most of whom are novices, are very friendly, if not a bit silly. One crew had been assigned "sweeping the grounds" duty, but several of them were taking playful swats at one another with their brooms, and one little kid was playing air guitar with his broom. Hey, who can blame them: they are just kids.

I continue to be overwhelmed by the generosity and hospitality that people here have shown me these past two weeks. I've been invited to homes of trishaw drivers, postcard sellers, and others; most of them offering me a lavish feast that I am sure is not an everyday occurence for them. At one monastary in Mandalay, I was even invited to sit down for a meal with a council of head monks and teachers. I was the only foreigner there on the morning that they dished out food to 2,734 monks. One man at our table told me that he felt lucky to have met me, after I told him that I would get him a book that he had been looking for. But I'm the one that feels lucky for having met this generous man and so many others.

Being on the road in this country also cuts you off from the "real world." This is the first time I've gone online in ten days. Needless to say, I have not kept up with e-mail or current events as much as I normally do back in Bangkok. But through word-of-mouth, and a few glimpses of CNN, I have heard about the bombs in Bangkok, Saddam Hussein's hanging, and Vijay Singh's latest victory. Tomorrow I hit the big lake for an all-day tour, then back to the monastary before sundown for a chat with some of the monks I met today. More soon!

05:09 AM PST Permalink |

Golden Rock Around the Clock
Greetings again from Myanmar! Mingala Ba!

I'm back in Yangon today after a whirlwind tour of Kyaiktiyo (Golden Rock) and Bago the past two days. Amazing sights and scenes, and truly wonderful people along the route. This country continues to impress me in so many ways.

The trip to Golden Rock was especially memorable. I would say that making a trip to this site - a gold leaf-embossed rock that is perched on top of mountaintop, looking as if it might tumble over the cliff at any minute - is the Buddhist equivalent of a trip to Mecca. Pilgrims from all over the country, and overseas, flock to the mountaintop to both gaze at its majesty, as well as to pray and make offerings. I saw hundreds, probably over a thousand people going up and down the mountain during my stay there.

Many Myanmar people trek up the top and spend the night. Foreigners like myself, however, aren't allowed to stay with the locals and must get a hotel room on the mountain or in the nearby town of Kinpun. I chose to splurge for an overpriced room on the mountain rather that take budget accommodation in town for the simple reasong that this enabled me to stay on the mountain and see both the sunset and sunrise. If you stay in Kinpun you must board a horribly packed pickup trek and endure a 40-minute ride either up or down the mountain. And that last truck leaves before sunset and after sundown, so that nixes those plans if you stay in Kinpun.

And even after the truck drops you off at the the mountain base camp, you still face a very steep and exhausting climb to the very top, one that can take an average of 40-60 minutes. You can pay porters to carry your bags, or even lay on a stretcher and have them take YOU all the way to the top. And some elderly or disabled pilgrims do just that. But I saw one man, an amputee on crutches, making the climb by himself. Just thinking about the effort that took brings tears to my eyes. These people are incredible.

When I was coming down the mountain on Friday morning, a Thai tour group was seated behind me. We were all clinging for dear life as the truck slashed and shimmied its way down the mountain road. In between dangerous curves we struck up a conversation and found out that we all live in Bangkok. The group invited to give me a lift to Bago on their way back to Bangkok. The kindness of strangers strikes again. That was a really nice gesture. I accepted their invitation and enjoyed the ride and their company.

Bago wasn't as amazing as Kyaiktiyo, but it did have its share of enormous pagodas (the tallest one in Myanmar), oodles of monks walking around town, and a very long reclining Buddha (longer than the one in Bangkok). It also has more dogs than any place I've seen in Myanmar. But, thankfully, they aren't the menu of local restaurants. Fried goat testicles, yes; but dogs, no.

I'm off in the morning (an insanely early 6:15 AM flight) to Bagan, where I'll ring in the New Year with friends, and attend the annual Ananda Pagoda festival. The adventures continue! And on that note, I wish a very Happy New Year to all of you that have read my blog during 2006. Let's hope for more peace, love, and understanding in 2007.

01:26 AM PST Permalink |

Foreign Phrases

I just picked up the latest album by Yo La Tengo. Great stuff, as always, with material that ranges from sweet melodic gems to feedback-spiced guitar jams. This one also has my pick for best album title of the year: I am Not Afraid of You and I will Beat Your Ass. Ira Kaplan, you are a genius!

I was upstairs in the bookshop on Sunday, trying to fit some more Ian Rankin books on a shelf in the Mystery section. And then my cell phone rang. A chorus of voices speaking something that wasn’t Thai or English greeted me. It took me about ten seconds to realize the call was coming from Cambodia. But who was calling? It was Huot, one of the kids that used to help clean my bookshop in Siem Reap. Since I returned to Bangkok I have continued to help him and his younger brother, giving them money for school and family needs. He had never called me before, so I guessed something was up. Sure enough, the family has had to relocate to Phnom Penh and they need more money to keep the kids in school. No problem, I assured him, expcept that I’m leaving for Myanmar in two days and don’t have enough money to send right now. Wait until next month, I promised, and then I’ll get something to you. But how? There is no way to contact him or his family. No bank account, no phone number, and maybe no fixed address at the moment. Huot will have to either call me direct or go through our mutual friend So Peng Thai (a tour guide in Siem Reap who also used to work at my bookshop) to arrange any further assistance. Not sure what I’ll end up doing, but we’ll have to wait until next month to cross that bridge.

Speaking with Huot brought back those seemingly long-lost Khmer phrases. It was slow going at first, but after the language “kicked in” I started spouting melodic Khmer phrases ever-so-smoothly. Or so I’d like to think. It didn’t help that I’ve been studying Burmese every day for the past six months. All these various phrases and words kept bouncing around in the craters of my cerebellum; Khmer, Burmese, and Thai all threatening to emerge from my mouth at any second. Luckily, I made it through the conversation without confusing the kid too much. But I do enjoy speaking Khmer; there’s something about the breathless cadence of the language that really appeals to me. It’s just all those damn vowels that trip me up.

It just hit me: I didn’t make any trips to Pattaya this year. That makes it the first time since 1992 that I haven’t visited the nearby beach resort at least once during the year. Not that I have any regrets. The appeal of Pattaya’s sandy beaches and seedy bars has long since vanished for me. I used to visit Pattaya frequently when I was a tourist back in the early 1990s, but after moving to Bangkok I found myself venturing over there less and less with each succeeding year.

11:05 PM PST Permalink |

Cool Weather, Cool Taxis, Cool Tunes, Cool People

The weather continues to be cool here in Bangkok, resulting in most of the locals donning jackets and coats for those chilly mornings and evening outings. And I’m about to join them: when I take my morning motorcycle ride I don’t enjoy shivering. Yes, I am that much of a cold weather wimp. I have no desire to see snow or climb every mountain. Even the air-conditioning in most local shopping centers is too cold for my blood.

Taxi drivers in Bangkok are mostly very agreeable and friendly fellows (and for some reason it’s a very, very rare thing to find a female driver). It’s rare that one won’t strike up a conversation and talk to me, usually in Thai, when I am in their cab. This goes against “conventional wisdom” that they are all sullen, shady characters that enjoy taking advantage of tourists. Sure, there are some creeps in the batter, but most taxi drivers (I’ll exclude tuk-tuk drivers from this analysis; they generally ARE crooks) are really nice, polite guys. Earlier this week I had a particularly pleasant conversation with one taxi driver about temples. He talked about how much he liked visiting the old temples in nearby Ayutthaya and other places around Thailand. I concurred, and in turn mentioned the wonders of the pagodas of Bagan in Myanmar and the temples of Angkor in Cambodia. I have a strong distaste for organized religion, yet there is something very magical about Buddhist temples, especially the ancient ones. I never get tired of visiting them and soaking up the history.

It’s rare that I receive actual mail from the postal service. When something arrives it’s usually a telephone bill or coupons from Pizza Hut. But this week the postman brought me a most wonderful package: the new CD, Even if I Fall, from my friend Reina Collins. I’ve known Reina for many decades; going back to our high school days in Orlando (she’s not quite as ancient as I am, having graduated a few years later). Since her days of singing in various clubs around the Tampa-St. Petersburg area, Reina has lived – and sang - in Idaho, California, and now Oregon. For this album she teamed up with Rob Barteletti (who wrote most of the songs) to create a sparking collection of folk-rock tunes. You’ll also hear bits of blues and country weaved into the original material. Supporting the fine songs is a stellar instrumental foundation; bits of dobro, banjo, fiddle, piano, slide guitar, and even cello spicing up the mix. To my ears Reina’s voice has a warmth and tone similar to that of Mary Chapin Carpenter. You can hear samples of her songs on her MySpace site or at CDbaby.com. Links to those sites and for information can be found at:
http://www.reinagcollins.com/

One of my new heroes is Rick from San Diego. I was fortunate to meet this fascinating man when he visited Thailand last month. Rick is 84-years-old and still going strong: traveling the globe, reading books, and playing golf several times each week. “And I still work,” he adds. Further proof that rust never sleeps: got to keep moving!

10:17 PM PST Permalink |

Foods for Thought

I was doing an online check of hotels in Yangon this week when I noticed that one offered its guests “instant laundry.” I can’t wait to see what that service is all about! It reminds of yet another hotel in Yangon that listed “Food Massage” among its guest services. Sounds sort of kinky, doesn’t it?

Speaking of food, Myanmar writer Ma Thanegi asked me to check Bangkok bookshops for a cookbook that she has been looking for. The book she wants, The Cradle of Flavor: Cooking from the Spice Islands of Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore was written by James Oseland, a longtime resident of Singapore. On Monday I popped into the Emporium and checked out the Cookery selection at Kinokuniya, but they didn’t have The Cradle of Flavor in stock. I walked over to the nearby Asia Books outlet but they didn’t have the book either. The next day I went to two more Asia Books outlets, but still no sign of the cookbook. My last try was at the Kinokuniya branch at Siam Paragon, where lo and behold, there was one remaining copy left. I snatched that book off the shelf and clutched it in my arms like a lost kitten, making sure it didn’t get away.

I haven’t met Ma Thanegi in person yet (I’ll rectify that situation when we meet for lunch – and give her the cookbook - next week), but she has answered a barrage of Myanmar food questions that I’ve thrown her way. Clearly, this woman knows her noodles, curries, soups and more. And it’s no wonder; she has written a cookbook of her own, An Introduction to Myanmar Cuisine. In addition to that, she has penned several other books, including the travel tale The Native Tourist, and The Illusion of Life: Burmese Marionettes.

While in Kinokuniya I saw a new paperback on the shelf by Barry Eisler called Blood From Blood. Or at least I thought it was new. A quick perusal of the first page revealed that this was the UK version of an older title that I have already read, called Hard Rain. I was hoping that this "new" book was the UK version of The Last Assassin, Eisler’s latest novel which is still only available in the US as a hardcover. But no such luck. This is the second time I’ve found an Eisler book with an alternate title. I picked up Choke Point earlier this year and realized later that it was actually a re-titled version of Rain Storm. Why do publishers do this? Different covers, different titles; it all gets confusing for us diehard readers. An online check revealed that the trend of re-titled Eisler books is continuing: One Last Kill is the same as Killing Rain. I wonder if there are any authors that are being subjected to this dual-title dilemma.

I had a surprise visit last week from Sochiet, a friend that lives in Phnom Penh. When I first got a message that he had called me, I assumed that he was calling from Cambodia. It was only later that I found out he was actually here in Bangkok! This was Sochiet’s first trip outside of Cambodia, so he was understandly excited and bewildered by the spectacle of all things Bangkok. He found time one day during his multi-day visit to drop by the bookshop and chat for a while. Sochiet, the author of the Phnom Penh Page blog here at Things Asian, was in town to serve as an interpreter and help his mother with some paperwork she needed to file at the US Embassy. She is hoping to get a visa to visit one of her daughters that is living in the USA. Why they came to Bangkok instead of going to the US Embassy in Phnom Penh remains a mystery to me. But I suppose Sochiet will give us more information when he updates his blog soon.

08:33 PM PST Permalink |

Sizing it Up

Size matters. Even in the seemingly sedate business of bookselling, the size of the product is important, yet the choice of sizes is baffling. Most readers are familiar with the popular “pocket size” paperbacks. These are also known as mass-market paperbacks; the sort of titles you see sold at airport shops and in department stores. You want your John Grisham and Danielle Steel; this is the format to expect. Then there is “Trade Size”, an oversized paperback that normally has bigger print and is easier on the eyes. Normally, more “serious” fiction is published in this format. Most new books are still released as a hardcover at least a year before the paperback version appears in stores. This inevitably frustrates some readers who hate waiting a year or longer for the more affordable option ($6-8 as opposed to $20-30) to appear on bookshelves.

Recently, however, some new hardcover books in the UK have been released simultaneously along with jumbo paperback versions. As you would expect, the price is cheaper than the hardcover, but more expensive than that of a pocket-sized book. American publishers haven’t gotten hip to the “jumbo alternative” yet, opting instead for their own bizarre option. This new paperback is the same width as the standard pocket-size paperback, but it’s a few inches longer. What’s the purpose of this new elongated version? Hell if I know. The font size is no larger than that of the pocket size, so it’s certainly not going to benefit those who struggle to read small print. And many readers complain that it’s more difficult to hold in their hands. Let’s hope this new size is a short-lived experiment that soon disappears, ala “New Coke.”

From a retailer’s perspective, this dizzying array of sizes makes shelving the books a headache-laden challenge. There is simply no easy or “right way” to organize them all. In my shop we end up shelving some of the books horizontally and some vertically. The hardcovers are often relegated to the very top shelf. They are just too big to mix with their tiny pocket book peers.

There are many English language books published here in Thailand, but the vast majority of these titles are sold in the large trade paperback size. One exception is the new Bjorn Turmann book, The Karaoke World of Courtous Haire. I haven’t read it yet (but it’s sitting there in my “Read Soon” pile), but the book is set in Thailand, Laos, and Singapore. In fact, Bjorn was just in Vientiane for a book signing, his first such event in Laos. I can’t wait to hear how that went.

Another Thailand-themed book breaking the oversized paperback mold is the new version of Jake Needham’s Laundry Man, which now comes in a handy pocket size. After reading Needham’s popular The Big Mango several years ago, I had neglected to read his other novels, but I liked this one so much I won’t make that mistake again. Laundry Man is also set in Bangkok (expect for a few chapters that take place in Hong Kong) and gives readers excellent literary glimpses of our fair city. It’s refreshing to read a book about Bangkok that doesn’t dwell on go-go bars and drug dealers, but instead offers intelligent and thoughtful looks at Bangkok’s many other pleasures and diversions. The story in Laundry Man is damn good, too. I look forward to reading the follow-up, Killing Plato, and his brand new novel, The Ambassador’s Wife.

More surprises: just the other day I found out that a friend of mine from Orlando, Joe Jervis, has had one of his short stories published in an anthology called From Boys to Men: Gay Men Write About Growing Up. Joe was a customer of mine when I worked at Record Mart and Record City, and later when I opened Murmur Records in Orlando. We became good friends, always staying on top of the latest music trends. During one wild week I think we saw both the B-52’s and Prince in concert. Joe is now living in New York City where he writes the popular blog Joe.My.God. I clicked on Amazon.com and saw the following description of the book:
“More than an anthology of coming out stories, From Boys to Men is a stunning collection of essays about what it is like to be gay and young, to be different and be aware of that difference from the earliest of ages. In these memoirs, coming out is less important than coming of age and coming to the realization that young gay people experience the world in ways quite unlike straight boys. Sometimes the result is funny, sometimes it is harrowing, and often it is deeply moving.”

My fellow Scrooge, Gene Johnson, continues to experience the Christmas music blues. In his latest e-mail Gene reports: “Today I made the mistake of walking through Robinson's looking for a birthday gift for my adopted daughter. The Xmas carols finally drove me out! Humbug.” I’m with you, Gene. I’ve about reached my Christmas music threshold, too. I can’t seem to escape the holiday tunes no matter where I go. But yesterday, when I stopped in a Family Mart outlet, I was treated to the sounds of Mor Lam (Northeastern Thai country music) on the sound system. It was so refreshing I just wanted to stay and hang out there for a while.

09:55 PM PST Permalink |