While enjoying our time on a tropical island in the Gulf of Thailand, we came across an opportunity that I couldn't pass up - to volunteer to teach English to local Thai students. Despite limited information on the details, I figured what the hell, it's not for a long time and I've been wanting to do something other than be a backpacker, wandering over the surfaces of people's lives. I ached to delve deeper, off the beaten path, stay in a community, and work with a purpose, even if it's just for a week. I was gung ho, and eventually Tyler came around and agreed to volunteer.
The school was not on the island we were staying at, so we took a ferry to where we were met by three teachers from the school - Pat, Sudarat, and Drink. From that point on, we were treated like special guests to unrivaled hospitality. We got a house all to ourselves. It was a rudimentary house with sparse furnishings, but we got new pillows, a fridge brought into the house on our arrival, and a table cloth for the table...what else can you ask for?
The day of our arrival also happened to be Teacher's Day, and we got to attend a banquet party for the teachers sponsored by the local Sheriff's dept. We met our school's head master and teachers from other schools. Everybody had a good time, especially with the singing, dancing, raffling of gifts, and flowing whiskey although it was Sunday with school the next day. I enjoyed a dance with the head master and won a gift as a result. (Everyone who had the nerve to get up to dance was rewarded to a gift. It wasn't due to any other special skill or anything.)
The first day of school, we woke bright and early, didn't want to be late for our first day of school. I slept lightly anyway because I was so excited. Sudarat (nicknamed Rat) came by early to make sure we were awake. Drink came by a little later to lend us her motorbike, so we could ride to school, even though the school's right next door and took only 5 minutes to walk there.
Every morning the uniformed students show up before classes to clean the school campus and then line up on the field to sing the national anthem, raise the flag, and say a buddhist prayer. After this ritual, we were introduced to all the students in Thai, and then we introduced ourselves to the students in English. There were lots of chattering and excitement from the students. I was excited to be there, but I think the students were even more excited for us to be there. The school is out in the countryside of the main town, so they don't get to see nor interact with foreigners. It's good Tyler went since it's obvious he's a foreigner, as opposed to me who is mistaken for a Thai all the time. The students would have been disappointed with just me, just another Asian and all.
Tyler and I joined Rat to her first English class of the day, and it was a Level 3 class. The school has kids aged from 12-18, level 2-6, equivalent to our grades 6-12. All the students were scattered about, chattering excitedly, but when we walked into the classroom, the students quickly went to their seats.
"Stand up please," one student stood up and announced.
"Good morning, Teacher!" They all stood up and recited loudly together.
"Good morning, how are you?" Tyler and I answered back in slow enunciation.
"We are fine, thank you! How are you?"
"We are very well, thank you. You may sit down."
"Thank you!"
That's how every class began. The students are extremely respectful towards the teachers. Outside of class the students will greet you in the traditional Thai way with hands raised to the chest, palms together while bowing slightly. At first we would return their greetings in the same manner, but then we were corrected by Rat that teachers don't return greetings in the same way, just with a nod is fine. I thought our little faux pas was why there was so much giggling accompanying the greetings, but after a while I realized the girls just giggled whenever we were around because they were shy and/or found us amusing. But this never took away from their shows of respect. Sometimes when they walk past the teachers, they will scrunch down while passing as a sign of respect too. Martin, aren't you jealous?
For the first few classes, Tyler and I went to them together, more for the moral support I think than for any logistical reason. Later when we were more comfortable, we split up and went to different classes to cover more ground, allow the students more exposure. There wasn't a whole lot of structured teaching since we were just there for one week. Almost every class we went to, we allowed the students to ask us questions about ourselves, and we asked them questions about them to get to know each other and practice conversation. Typical questions - "What's your name?" "Where do you come from?" "How old are you?" "What's your job?" "How many people are in your family?" "What's your favorite Thai food?" "Do you like to sing?"
In every class, they wanted us to sing a song for them. Singing is a popular activity there. But as singing is an embarassing activity for Tyler and I, we would turn it around and get one of the students to sing a song instead. Most of the time, they would sing a Thai song, but one girl sang a Britney Spear's song with perfect accent and everything. I was impressed.
One night Tyler told me that a girl in one of the classes that was quite excited and rowdy (for Thai students) and spoke better English than other classes had professed her love for him. He thought it must have been his good looks. But I thought it quite funny because a girl in one of my classes the day before had professed her love for me too! She was really shy about it, but that's how sweet those kids are.
Everyone was amazingly sweet and nice to us. They really made us feel very welcome. The other teachers were curious about us too, but some of them couldn't speak English very well. So during breaks, the English teachers, Pat or Rat, would translate for us. We were given gifts of fruit from the students every day. After school some of the teachers would take us out. One evening we went to a waterfall for a dinner picnic. Another evening we got to visit a shrimp farm of one of the students. They export king size shrimp to other countries, including the U.S., so we may have eaten shrimp from their farm before. Another night we took a boat to a wooden stilted house that's rented out to visitors in the middle of clam farms, and the teachers brought a pot luck of various seafood dishes for a grand feast. We had a really good time.
On our last day of school, all the students gave us home made cards and flowers. It was really touching, and we were sad to have to leave so soon. Even though we were there for such a short time, I felt everyone had made a strong connection with us and us to them. When we were leaving the next day, we were given gifts of more food and clothes. It was a tearful good-bye, and I hope we get to visit them again someday.
After the tsunami disaster we found ourselves in a Bangkok rut. Upon our return to Thailand we had planned to spend a month tooling about the southwest coast of Thailand. It was to be a holiday from our holiday during the holidays, you know, Kwanza and New Years and all that jazz. In our previous jaunts through Thailand we had avoided the southwest coast not because it is unpleasant-by most accounts the southwest is supposed to have some of the most beautiful places in Thailand. We had put off visiting the southwest because the weather is supposed to be best in December and January. Well as it turns out the tsunami wiped up our plans to visit the southwest as this was the region of Thailand hardest hit by the tidal wave. Where do we go now?, that was the question MoWenck got stuck asking ourselves.
We had spent 2 enjoyable weeks on the island of Koh Phan Ngan in July 2004 and decided to head back to the island on our way to Malaysia. Koh Phan Ngan is in the Gulf of Thailand and therefore was unaffected by the tsunami. Koh Phan Ngan offers many activities including lounging on the beach or in a hammock, swimming, snorkeling, hiking, and meditation. We had even enrolled in a 10-day meditation retreat at Wat Kao Tam on the island beginning 17Jan04, just in case we decided to pursue that route. Koh Phan Ngan is known as the party island--and it is on the southeastern coast of the island (google Hadd Rin)--but it is also close to the regions two other premiere islands: Koh Samui the upscale resort island and Koh Tao world renowned for its snorkeling and diving. If we got tired of Koh Phan Ngan we could easily jump a ferry to one of the other islands. So we set off, like a bull with gas.
We broke out of the Bangkok rut on 05Jan05. I was a little weary of going to Koh Phan Ngan because the tsunami had displaced so many tourists; most of them just changed their location or destination to Koh Samui or Koh Phan Ngan or Koh Chang (in the Trat province near Cambodia). So, before we hopped on the 9 hour bus for Surat Thani where we would then embark on a 3 hour ferry ride to Koh Sumui and finally Koh Phan Ngan, I decided to call my favorite bungalow operation from our previous visit and make a reservation. I found myself in front of the 7-11 on Khao San Road using a pay phone, no simple task in Thailand. When I finally completed my call and secured a bungalow at Coral Bay I hung up the receiver and took a look around at the madness that is the Khao San. For those of you unfamiliar with Bangkok, Khao San Road or the Khao San, is the center of farang* activity in the city and the country. The Khao San is like Barcelona’s Las Ramblas (without the theatrics) and San Francisco’s Haight Street combined with a distinctly Thai style. The Khao San is where you go to find travel bargains or travel partners. You can find all kinds of curios and a million pairs of fisherman pants. It is the place to buy, trade, sell used books. Shaman bookstore (not to be confused with the Shaman Bookstore on Telegraph Ave. in Berzerkeley-no relation) on Khao San is easily the best bookstore in the city. The Khao San offers the cheapest accommodation in Bangkok and for all of these reasons it is over run with farang. The Khao San is many things to many people. To me it is a personal hell. I am so happy to stay across the city in the Sukumvit and I only visit the Khao San to arrange travel or buy/trade books. Otherwise, blah! Anyhow, as I hung up the phone I took one last look around and was a little bit sad to be leaving Bangkok-even the Khao San. I don’t know when or if I will get back to Bangkok, a city I absolutely loathed after my first visit but came to appreciate for its creature comforts (western comforts). Mo and I gathered up our belongings and bid Bangkok a merry farewell.
The overnight bus ride to Surat Thani was uneventful and I even managed to get some rest before we hopped on the ferry. I went straight onto the deck where I was able to feel the cool sea breeze and enjoy the scenery of the gulf. It was a delight to watch the flying fish jump out of the wake of the ferry and lead us to Koh Phan Ngan. Amy opted for the comfort of the air-conditioned cabin and to enjoy Tom Cruise’s performance (if that is possible) in the Last Samurai. We finally made it to the island and managed to get away from the bungalow touts and taxi men that surround Thong Sala pier. If you make reservations with Coral Bay you are supposed to receive a free ride to the bungalows located some 15 K to the north, that saves you 150-200 baht/person. Unfortunately we were unable to locate the Coral Bay posse. I became a little bit concerned. The last time we visited Coral Bay my only complaint was the service. Not that they were impolite but that the staff was absent minded and a bit lazy. I naturally attributed it to the fact that the staff was normally stoned to the 9’s and now I was worried that nothing had changed. As we wondered around the pier we met an another couple (Scottish-English mix) who were also headed to Coral Bay. Then we ran into a guy who had worked at Coral Bay in July, a real pot-head and we subsequently assumed he was there to pick us up. As it turns out he was no longer employed at Coral Bay (what a relief). He was working for another bungalow operator. He tried to convince us to come to his new bungalows but as we declined he was kind enough to let us use his mobile to call the competition, Coral Bay.
Mo finally got a hold of them and within minutes the owners of the resort picked us up (along with the other couple) and whisked us away to the resort. It was a good thing I had called from Bangkok as Coral Bay resort was hopping. They were not even sure if they could accommodate the Englishman, Simon, and his travel partner, Scottish Louise. Amy and I got one of the nicest bungalows—only fitting, since I called and made a reservation—with tile floors, clean bathroom, many windows, a huge porch with a hammock (that I had to repair) and a view to the west, all for 300 baht/night. You can get cheaper accommodation on the island, especially if you are staying on for ‘awhile’, but you are unlikely to be set up as nicely as we were at Coral Bay. Also worth noting, many of the cheap bungalow operators require you to eat at their restaurant, 3 meals a day. The bungalow may only be 100 baht/night but the cost of food will crush you and it might not taste to good. And, if you don’t take your meals with them they might throw you out! Coral Bay asks you to try to take at least 1 meal a day with them, fair enough ‘cause the food is good.
Anyway, it did not take us long to settle into a new rut although it was a much nicer rut than Bangkok. Our days were spent like this: wake up about 0730 and practice yoga and meditation for an hour or two. Have a light breakfast before heading to the small fishing village of Cha Lok Lam (a 20 minute walk or 2 minute scooter ride) to run errands, shop for things, or check email. The afternoons were generally spent pursuing the perfect beach and surf to suck up the sun’s rays (successfully I might add). We would race the afternoon thunder storms back to Coral Bay—sometimes getting caught in the rain—and relax with a book in our hammocks or take a nap before watching the sunset. We spent the evenings eating in the company of Simon and Louise (not quite Thelma & Louise but a nice couple none the less). Or with Hans the 70 year old Austrian ski instructor, Steffan a kind German bloke, Jon and Lucie and their 1 year old son who took his first steps at Coral Bay and always had a smile on his face. Or the other French peeps: Jean-Phillip, and the two Antoins and their female companions. Hans would weave his tales of living in the states for the last 40 years. He made his living as a ski instructor, professional gambler or dealer in Vegas, Tahoe, and Reno. My favorite stories of his were: Meeting Miles Davis at a party in 1956 with a ski student of his. Hans was completely unaware of who Miles Davis was…and I still don’t think he knows; or the times he has run into Arnie in Sun Valley, Idaho--these stories made me ashamed to be a Californian, the womanizing Govenator is a real shit head. Late nights we usually had a night cap with Simon and Louise while listening to music on our deck. One night at 0200 we decided (Jon and the other Frenchmen along with Amy and Tyler) to give fishing a try. It was low tide and we had a few beers in us and failed to recognize the futility of fishing. The shallow water exposed many rocks and some coral and all we could catch were snags and head ache.
Most people who have been to Koh Phan Ngan have the scars to prove it. There are three main ways to get scars on Koh Phan Ngan. 1) Going to the Full Moon Party or any variations there of (Half-Moon Party, New Moon Party, black moon, blah, blah, blah) and ingesting a beverage that has been *spiked* with illicit hallucinogenic drugs thus incurring serious mental scars. 2) Swimming to far out into the sea where the big jellies wait to sting the living piss out of you (note: this can result in drowning). 3) Riding on a motor scooter. The latter is probably the most common. Just about everyone who visits Koh Phan Ngan rents a motor scooter to explore the island. It is convenient and cheaper than paying the land/sea taxi mafia. By now most of the island is accessible by road—sure there are a few remote beaches (Bottle Beach, Haad Tien, Haad Yuan) that are only accessible by sea but there are even tracks to these locations. However, the roads on the island can leave something to be desired. Many are not sealed and the ones that are have pot-holes and loose gravel everywhere and all of them climb steep grades and include hair-pin turns. When the rain comes the roads become especially dangerous. The cheapest and most readily available scooter is the 125 cc Honda Dream, a motorcycle clearly not designed for off road riding. Combine this with the fact that most farang have little to no experience on a motorcycle and that the helmuts provided are only good to catch your brains as they ooze out of your skull and you have a recipe for disaster. Everyone is tempted to ride, it is so convenient and cheap, as I have already mentioned and you see the local kids as young as 8 years old cruising around. Well, like I said, if you meet someone who has spent time on Koh Phan Ngan you can ask them to show you their scars, they probably have some. Simon and Louise wiped out. One of the Antoins ate it. MoWenck? Well we survived without any incidence or scars. Oh sure, there were some harry moments on the ride to Thong Nai Pan and even Haad Rin but I remained calm and managed not to wreck. I really enjoyed cruising on my little Honda Dream, I named him Haukeem the Honda Dream! It was a blast and like I said no scars to show! Woo Hoo!
There was a sign at Coral Bay requesting volunteers to teach conversational English at a boarding school in Surat Thani (back on the main land) and Mo was interested, Tyler was indifferent and was even contemplating the 10-day meditation retreat. Mo talked with Ms. Nee, the owner of Coral Bay, and got the scoop about teaching. They could not pay us but we would receive free room and board in exchange for teaching the kids. Other details like what was expected of us, how we would get there, what the facilities would be like, etc. were vague at best. Mo wanted to go, I was hesitant. If we did the 10-day retreat we would be over-staying our visa and face fines at the boarder. At the teaching gig they wanted us for months, we only had about a week left. After much discussion we finally decided to give the teaching thing a whirl but agreed to staying on for only 1 week (with the caveot of staying longer if desired). We made the necessary arrangements and in the mean time enjoyed our last full day on the island with a couple of hours of fishing. It was certainly Thai style with a drop line and all but it was fun. Mr. Mee took us out just off shore and Tyler was able to land the days biggest fish, a modest red snapper, along with a bunch of other little guys (white snapper and groupers). That night after cleaning the fish (pictures forthcoming) we had ourselves a mini feast and enjoyed Hans, Simon, and Louise’s company again. It was quite pleasant.
Early the next morning we woke up and packed our bags. I finished first and retired to the hammock with my book for one last time. I was reading my book when in mid sentence, “Politics disgusted him and he distrusted politicians: you had to watch them like hawks;” the rope snapped on one end of the hammock. I hit the floor with a thud and completed the sentence, “they were liars by the nature of their profession, and nothing but liars. Ouch!!!!”** I laid there in agony. I thought I had broken my coccyx and my elbows were exploding with pain. As it turns out the brunt of the impact was absorbed by my lower back. I had not landed on my tail bone. My back was instantly out of whack though. I may not have any visible scars from Koh Phan Ngan but I think I fused a few vertebrae with that fall. It sucked because here we were getting ready to go off and teach for a week and I’ve gone and hurt my back. Did you ever try to carry a 15 K bag with a bad back? It sucks! Anyway, Mo finished packing and we reluctantly settled our tab and we headed back to Thong Sala pier to catch a ferry back to Surat Thani and the complete unknown of teaching English at a rural school in Thailand.
We were lucky and the sea was calm for our journey back to the mainland. By the time we reached the port at Bansok my back was feeling better-still not great-and my spirits in turn were on the upswing. A welcoming party from the school was supposed to greet us at the port but when we arrived we did not immediately recognize them. Amy put in a call to Ms. Nee back at Coral Bay and we soon found Patcharapan (Pat), Sudarat (Rat) and Drink (IDontKnow). They helped us load our bags into the car and away we went for the 30 minute ride to the Tautaepittaya School and our new accommodation. Pat and Rat are English teachers at the school and we chatted and got to know each other on the way. Drink is very shy and not very confident in her English but she managed to ask some questions about us through Pat. We also learned that we would be working with the kids on their pronunciation and conversational English skills (thank goodness it wasn't spelling!). We would be working with all six levels of classes, ages 12 to 18. We also learned right away that our hosts were very kind and that we would want for nothing while we were there.
There are several homes about a 2 minute walk from the school owned by the school that many of the teachers live in and we settled into one of the vacant houses. It was a spartan place with cement floors and a Thai style bathroom (squat toilet and mandi#). The home was sparsly furnished with two matresses (on the floor-but we had clean sheets and new pillows), an old desk as a nightstand, a fan and downstairs a refrigerator and table set up with some dishes. The place was crawling with ants--I'm pretty sure there was a nest in the walls--but in all the time we were there the ants never bothered us. The ants didn't even get into our food or garbage--strange! It was not five star but it was better than nothing and probably better than what some of our students had at home. Once we were all settled in Amy and I bathed in preparation for the teacher appreciation dinner scheduled for that evening.
Pat, Rat, and Drink collected us at 1800 and whisked us away to the gathering of local teachers (from all the schools in the area). It was quite a pleasant introduction to our new environment. We were greeted by the head master of the school, a very reserved but kind gentleman who immediately offered me whiskey (who am I to say no?). We sat down to a huge Thai meal and enjoyed the company of our new friends. Everyone was very interested in us and came over to find out our story. Inevitably they would ask us to come to teach at their school next. After dinner there was dancing and I even got up and did a little Thai-style boogie. Eventually there was kareoke and the head master got up and proved to have a good voice singing a thai song. There was a raffle and Amy made off with a new towel. All in all it was a swell evening and we were quite relieved and happy to be there.
I would like to take a moment here to describe the Tautaepittaya School. It is located in a rural part of Surat Thani province Thailand. As it is a rural school many of the students are not wealthy but what they lack in material wealth they make up for in kindness, friendliness, and happiness. Many of the students can look forward to a life of toil on the local palm or rubber plantations and therefore English is not necessarily a favorite subject--it is difficult after all and many of the students do not have need for English (not many farang come to these parts as was evidenced by the looks I got from the locals). Over the next week this would prove to be the biggest challenge for me, keeping the older students, the ones who knew what was in their immediate future, interested in studying English. All of the students, young and old, weather they liked English or not, treated us (and all their teachers) with the uptmost respect. The students bow their heads whenever their path crosses a teacher on campus. The students are very respectful of the campus and their country as well. They show up at 0700 every day to clean the campus before they assemble at 0745 for singing of the national anthem, the flag raising ceremony, and prayer. It was quite an amazing environment to find oneself teaching in, especially for a kid who matriculated in public schools in California.
On the first day Amy and I arrived in time to catch the entire assembly. The campus was buzzing with excitement about the recently arrived farang teachers. After prayers were completed Amy and I introduced ourselves to the students before the assembly broke for classes. Assembly breaks in a very orderly fashion as the students file off the football field and into their respective classrooms. The first two periods Mo and I went with Rat to the lower level classes and we taught together. After that, we split up in order to maximize our exposure to the students. Rat stayed with Amy and I was thrown to the wolves, on my own with a class of 16 year olds. The lesson plan for the first few days was for the students to ask us questions to get to know about Amy and I. The students were always very shy at first. Embarrassed to make mistakes they would be hesitant to ask questions and when they did it was in such a soft voice as to render them almost inaudible. The students would ask about our age, our families, and where we were from. Once they realized we understood them they would start to ask what foods we liked, for our telephone number and address, what we liked about Thailand, how we felt about the tsunami, what we did for a job, etc. Inevitably they would ask if we could sing and then ask us to sing something for them. Usually I turned it around and got them to sing for me and only once, on the last day, did I sing (a sad performance of You've Lost That Loving Feeling). I usually tried to introduce new vocabulary and work with the students on the difficult sounds to pronounce. The last few days we worked with the students on lesson plans from their English books. When we did not have classes to teach Amy and I would spend time on-line or the students would seek us out and try to teach us Thai (I learned more Thai in that 1 week than I did in 2 months in the rest of Thailand). For lunch we would go with some of the teachers to eat. One day we went to a wedding party of one of their former students.
When we were not at the school Rat and Pat made sure to keep us entertained and very well fed, some nights we would get 2 or 3 meals. We went to a local waterfall where only Pat was brave enough to go swimming. We visited a local shimp farm (a very lucrative business apparently) of one of our students. Another night we went with many of the teachers to have dinner out on the sea. We generally had a good time together. On our last day, after only 5 days of teaching, we found ourselves in front of the morning assembly thanking the students and faculty for having us at the school. One of the students read a message (in English) and then all of the students started falling out of ranks to bring us cards and flowers of thanks. It was a really special moment and of course Mo started to cry. That whole day the kids continued to shower us with flowers, cards and fruit. It was very touching to know what our short visit meant to the students. The teachers, who had been so kind to us all week, also thanked us. Shuda, one of the English teachers, gave us football jerseys from her husband's shop. It was a great experience and Mo and I were sad that we could only stay for 1 week (our visa was expiring and we had travel arrangements (flights) for our time in Malaysia).
The next morning we woke up early and ate breakfast with heavy hearts. Rat and Pat brought us more clothes to take with us as a parting gift. We finally said goodbye to Rat and climbed into Pat's car along with Drink and Yam. It was another 30 minute ride to the city of Surat Thani where our bus for Georgetown, Malaysia departed from and we talked with Pat, Drink, and Yam. They wanted us to stay longer and or to come back. We wanted to stay longer and we may well go back. After they bought us more food-of course and we gave them farewell wishes, cards of thanks with some money to spend on the school and kids, we hopped on the bus. Of course the bus zipped around town picking up additional passengers. Before the bus was full Pat tracked us down and gave back the money we had tried to give them to show our appreciation of their hospitality.
They just would not accept the money despite our plees with them to spend it on the students and the school. I think we may have insulted them by offering them money. Amy wanted to give gifts of thanks but we were in such a remote place with no shops for an appropriate gift so we impervised and gave the cash we would have spent. After thinking about it even more I realize that it was such a typical Western idea to give them money. "You have a beautiful school, but here's some money, do something with it." The West is always throwing money at the world's problems--people are starving, give them money (but you can't eat money)--rather than trying to actually solve the problem. It is more difficult to get involved, to do something, to take action. We feel guilty if we do nothing so we give money which is the equivalent of doing nothing. Our conscience seems clear if we have given money. We convince ourselves that we have made a sacrifice for the good of others. What the world needs is people of action who act out of compassion not pitty. Our volunteering to teach English at the school, even if it was for only one week, did more to inspire those kids to study and work at their English than any amount of money ever could. We took action and I saw what it meant, I know what it means. Another experience, another lesson learned.
Before we made it to Hat Yai on the boarder where we would change buses, Pat managed to track us down again-this time by mobile phone, she called the bus driver's mobile-just to thank us once more. Eventually we made it across the boarder into Malaysia. As our bus headed south towards the island of Penang, the sun was setting to the West and the sun had already set on my experiences to the North in Thailand. I reflected on my experience at Tautaepittaya and smiled to myself at everything I learned as a teacher.
NOTES:
*Farang: The sometimes derogatory, sometimes affectionate Thai term for Westerners.
** From Jorge Armado, Tereza Batista Home From The Wars; Ouch!!!! Added to the sentence mentally by me.
# In SEAsia the mandi is used for bathing. It consists of a tiled tub and a water spicket. You fill the tub with water and scoop the water from the tub with a small pail pouring the water over yourself to bath.
So, in all the excitement of the holiday season and in wake of the tsunami disaster, I have yet to blog-on about our second month in India. The second month of travel in India was as good, if not better*, than our first month’s travel experiences. Let’s see, I concluded my previous India travel blog in Ahmedabad where we failed to visit the “world’s greatest” textile museum and Ghandi’s ashram/museum. From Ahmedabad we jumped a train to Junagadh in the southern heart of Gujarat.
The journey was supposed to take 7 hours and MoWenck figured we could handle this day trip in second class unreserved, *The Hard Seat*. Of course the journey actually took about 9 hours but was entertaining enough-I was surprised that every time we passed a village or hut and the kids would run out waving to the train as if it were the first time it had ever passed (we were on a ‘daily’). Eventually we arrived in Junagadh as the sunset on the city. Junagadh is nestled in the hills just below mount Girnar about 50 miles from the coast of the Arabian Sea. It is an ancient city with all the charm of a modern Indian metropolis (ie. Traffic, smoggy gritty grimy air, pollution, cow dung, etc.). Seriously though, the city is interesting in that its streets remain as they have been (plus all the pollution) for hundreds of years. There are some architectural gems and the city has character as do the city’s citizens. We stumbled our way around town checking out the limited accommodation facilities-Junagadh is not so much a tourist destination-until we finally stumbled into the Relax Inn. The friendly and helpful manager (the guy is on a personal crusade to protect tourists and promote his city) allowed us to do just that, relax. He told us where we could get a good meal at reasonable prices, no small feet in Junagadh a city that is not surprisingly lacking in restaurants, and what to see around town. After a good meal and a good night’s rest we started to explore Junagadh (there are pictures, see the photo gallery for India). We wondered around to the Maqbara, through the winding streets past vendors of all sorts, up to the crumbling city fort and Jami Masjid-Friday Mosque, having a generally good time. We decided the next day we would climb to the top of mount Girnar to visit the Jain temples located on top of this mount.
There are some 5000 steps to the top of mount Girnar and it usually takes a person of average fitness 2.5 hours to make the hike up (as with any religious site in India, you can always hire two blokes to carry your arse up there-it’s pretty cheap I would imagine). Mo and I left our guest house at about 0600 for the half hour ride to the start of the stairs. The walk is quite pleasant early in the morning when the air is still cool and you wind through the forest. Eventually you wind up climbing stairs on a granite faced peak until you come to the Jain temples. It is well worth the climb. The Jain Temples on mount Girnar are about 1000 years old and like most Jain temples possess exceptional architecture and art. Inside the temples are intricately carved marble statues and shrines. The ceilings and walls are also carved with amazing bas relief stories on par with, if not better than, anything you see at Angkor Wat. You are unable to take a camera inside the temples so we were unable to take photos of the carvings; photography is only allowed outside the temples (see photo gallery for unjust pictures of Girnar).** It is quite impressive how well maintained these temples are considering the age and the relatively small number of Jainists there are in the world. We had a great time exploring the temples and snacking on our picnic.
The next day we got up supa’ early to catch the public bus to the island/city/Indian territory of Diu. The bus ride was good enough-we got there in record time and our driver was pretty safe. On the way we passed through the world’s ugliest and smelliest city (“smelly is such an ugly word” -Homer J.) Verval and I was relieved when we finally got out of the place-and that we decided not to stay there despite the fact that it is the place to stay if you want to visit Ghandi’s home. Diu, Daman (Gujarat) and Goa were once all part of the Portuguese Empire and until fairly recently (1961) remained under Portuguese control. The island of Diu is just off the southern coast of Gujarat and is very popular with Gujarati men as a place where they can get alcohol (Gujarat is dry!). Diu itself is quite pleasant, the southern part of the island has cliffs and beaches stretching for the entire 12 K of coast. Diu town has many Portuguese influences including several Catholic churches-although only one of them continues to function as a church, the others have been converted to guest houses and one into the local high school. Amazingly, Diu is not on most foreign tourist itineraries (Goa is) and therefore the beaches are deserted-the Indian men are there for the booze, not the beach. In Diu we found a great place to stay (with TV for the Simpsons each night at 1800, 1830 on Sundays) with a fabulous restaurant where we could buy fresh fish at the market and have the chef prepare it to order. All of this combined to make Diu an ideal place for us to spend a week. So we did. The days were spent exploring the island and villages on the back of a scooter, roaming the streets of Diu Town proper exploring the markets and shops, visiting the beaches and checking out the Diu Fort (see photos). It was a very relaxing place to be but a great place to recharge and prepare for the return to Delhi.
We planned to leave Diu and head North back to Ahmedabad directly from Diu. From there we were headed back to Delhi via Rajasthan (Udaipur, Pushkar, Jaipur). We decided to splurge and take an overnight sleeper bus to Ahmedabad. We booked train tickets to leave Ahmedabad for the next evening figuring we could catch up with the Textile Museum and Ghandi Ashram while we were in Ahmedabad for about 24 hours. The bus ride was all right but there was no way in hell I could sleep on this bus so when we got back to Ahmedabad I had to crash for the day and it looked like once again a trip to the Textile Museum would be crushed (oh darn!). Alas, our train did not leave for Udaipur until 2200 the next day so Mo pointed out that there was plenty of time to check out the museum and ashram, oh joy! So, early the next day we checked out of our room-checking our bags into storage-and made our way to the Textile Museum that operates on better than banker’s hours (1030-1230, 1430-1630). If you ever find yourself in Ahmedabad (maybe on a business trip or whatever) I would highly recommend checking out the Textile Museum-even if that is not your thing. It was amazing and brilliant! Seriously, the textiles on display are awesome. Rugs, wall hangings, clothes. There is a whole royal tent preserved from the 17th century that is crazy! The embroidery is extraordinary. The tie-die is top notch and remember I listen to the Dead and have seen 20 Phish shows). The museum is situated in a vast botanical garden (you have to arrange tours of the garden separately) and housed in an old preserved havoli. The hole thing was cool despite all my reservations. Credit to Mo for dragging me to the Textile Museum. After the museum we still had plenty of time to kill and despite being a little bit hungry we pushed on to the Ghandi Ashram/Museum. In case you didn’t know it Ghandi started an Ashram in Ahmedabad in 1915 when he returned from South Africa. Ghandi lived at the ashram for the next 18 years of his life. From the ashram Ghandi organized some of his greatest achievements-including the ashram itself a functioning communal living place of worship. A visit to this Ashram-closed since 1933-is well worth your time. The ashram has been converted into a museum in tribute to its founder, Mohondas Ghandi, one of the world’s most remarkable figures past or present. We spent several hours revisiting the life a Ghandi and despite the fact that I had forgone lunch, I didn’t want to leave the place#.
That night we left Gujarat and made our way to Udaipur, Rajasthan. Udaipur is this city situated on a lake and famous for its palaces (not for that popularly titled James Bond flick Octopussy. Oh Roger Moore, what ever happened to you?!?!?) and amazing views. The city is nice and you do get to see a lot of the sites made famous by the movie-heck if you want you can catch one of the 15 or so daily screenings of the movie, which might be better considering the current state of things in Udaipur. You see the area is in a drought, a 7 year drought and the lake is drying up. While it is convenient to be able to walk across the green fields that were once the lake, it is not very aesthetically eye pleasing. We found a great guest house called Lake Star and the family hosts were very kind to us. Each night we took our meals with them-Amy even learned to cook with Farida, see photo gallery. I amazed them with my loose scalp hair trick (it looks like I’m wearing a wig) and one of the sons was very impressed with my ability to make flatulence sounds with my hand and arm pit*#. We played cards, enjoyed meals, shopped ‘til Tyler dropped, and explored Udaipur for 7 days. We realized we were running out of time in India and that we needed to get back to Delhi to complete some errands before we flew back to Bangkok. So, we didn’t have time for Pushkar and Jaipur this time around-but hey, you have to save something for the next trip, right? Right!
So we did just that, got back to Delhi where we finalized our plans and made arrangements for the coming travel and holidays. It was exciting to be back in Delhi where we made a few more trips out of the Main Bazzar to take in some sites and shop. While I was sad to be leaving India with so much of this wonderful country unexplored I was equally excited to return to Thailand and our holiday plans. Of course, you all know how that turned out.
Following the tsunami we remained in Bangkok caught in a travel funk. We could have been there for the tsunami but we were saved by dumb luck. It was inspiring to hear some of the stories of survivors but a downer at the same time because for every good story there were 500 bad ones. Bangkok became a solemn place to be-as much as Bangkok can be solemn-I mean the sex shows didn’t stop and the lady boys were still in top form but the city was different. Flooded with injured tourists and Thais. New Years Eve parties across the city were canceled and we ‘rang’ in the new years with a sushi dinner (only $7 and I was stuffed!) and then a party at our guest house, the Suk 11.## We had a hard time deciding what to do next in wake of the disaster. Our plans were to be down there for the next few months. I’m sure your not crying for us***. Currently we are back on the island of Koh Phan Ngan where we plan to stay for the next few weeks. We might go to Koh Tao (just a little bit north) or do a 10-day meditation retreat, we have not decided. After that we plan to head down to Malaysia (mainland and island of Borneo) for a few months on our way to Australia. You are all invited to meet up with us anywhere along the way, just pop us an email to let us know what your plans are. Now then, this blog is over, get back to work. LOL!
NOTES:
* Consider this: We had some genuine Indian travel experiences while meeting interesting people and visiting some excellent tourist spots that were off the path.
Neither of us got violently ill (what’s a little irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) anyway?). I was able to gain back 8 K after losing 12 K-that’s 17.5 and 26.5 pounds, respectively. We stayed safe and didn’t have any problems. I would have to say the second 2 months of travel in India were *golden*.
** The reason is to show respect for the Jain religion. So, if you want to see these impressive structures first hand you will have to get away from your computer and hop on a plane to India. There are Jain temples all over India and by all accounts they are all equally impressive so you can visit anyone-or several if it catches your fancy. Women should note: you are not permitted into a Jain temple while menstruating.
# Sort of ironic when you consider all the times Ghandi went on hunger strikes to settle conflicts in his homeland and I have to leave his museum to grab lunch. What a great man. You know sometimes people ask that crap question…”if you could talk with one person, living or dead, who would it be?” well I like to think how I would answer that question and now I know I would answer Ghandi. I would even learn Gujarati to talk to him in his native language. Really and truly. It used to be Guatama Buddha or Jesus Christ or William the Conq or Leonardo (DaVinci not Dicaprio) or Einstein or Lennon (John not Vlad) or His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama but now its just Ghandi.
*# I know, I know, I know! It doesn’t sound like responsible tourism if you go around teaching the 12 year old boys how to make flatulence sounds with their hands and arms but hey, it’s better than the real thing right?
## We had a good time in our 10 days at the Suk 11 despite all the tragedy. It was fun to hang out with the resident Italian Stefano whom we have seen at the Suk 11 off and on since June. The guy knows where to eat in the area and can help with just about everything. Also there was Christoph from Germany, Jon from the UK, Alester from Scotland, Sarah from USA, Don from Florida who I enjoyed watching bowl games with and many others including Kev & Nate the SpanIrish girl (from Spain but with an Irish accent, LOL!) with whom we had a good time.
*** If you are crying for us then stop! Don’t cry for us, don’t even worry about us, we are having the time of our lives where the hardest thing to do is decide where we want to go next. What beach do we want to play on next? Doesn’t Borneo sound nice? What about Samoa, I’ve heard good things!?!? New Zealand is where it’s at. Oh man, it is tough, maybe you should shed a tear, but just 1 all right?