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I saw my first scratched/dented vehicle yesterday. I’ve been looking, ever since I arrived, for the typical scratches and dents that seem endemic to New York City vehicles. It’s been intriguing, especially because the driving in Bangkok puts New York City to shame in terms of its density, speed and closeness of corridors. It’s like New York City traffic, with the addition all sorts of small vehicles– motorcycles, tuk-tuks, etc– and about half the laws. Lanes are more like guidelines– if an oncoming lane is empty, it suddenly becomes anybody’s lane, regardless of where the yellow line is. Last night wasn’t the first time that a bus I was in nearly ran over an over-eager taxi that had made an extra turn-lane out of the bus’s lane. But the operative word here is nearly. Never once have I actually seen an accident, despite the countless times that vehicles have come within, literally, inches of each other.

Really, though, it kinda makes sense. Thailand is very much a Buddhist country (80%+, or so I’m told), and included in the Eight-fold path is right-mindfulness, which entails being aware of yourself and the things around you at all times. I have yet to meet a clumsy Thai. I can only imagine that this right-mindfulness extends into whatever a Buddhist is doing, including driving a car. As such, I think many Thais may have better spatial awareness, both inside their vehicle and without, simply due to their belief systems.

Speaking of traffic, though, I really must comment on the smog. In Bangkok, at the very least, the government at made attempts at emissions control by heavy taxation on cars with engines larger than 1.6L and motorcycles with engines larger than 150cc. As such, it’s exceedingly rare to see a vehicle with a large engine (honestly, I think 3.0L may be the largest engine I’ve seen!–). Although this is good (I can only imagine what things would be like without the existing laws) it’s far from sufficient. Buses, boats and tuk-tuks emit plums of black, lung-killing, environment-destroying exhaust. Many of the people who work in the street (tuk-tuk drivers especially) wear masks, and it’s easy to understand why. Sometimes, when riding in a tuk-tuk, I’ll open my mouth and be able to taste the millions of black particles in the air, and feel them coating my throat and teeth and my tuk-tuk driver carries us between passing busses and down on-coming lanes… Eventually, everything in Bangkok seems to get coated by a layer of black– fine at first, but eventually a suffusing, choking black. I sat down at an outside desk yesterday, and wiped off a section of the glass top with a napkin. The napkin turned black. Not a this-table-has-been-outside natural brown, but a charred-forest black.

Which brings me to academics. I have some concerns about the quality of education at Thammasat. Ultimately, it seems the classes are a blend between actual content and English-language instruction. I sat down and talked with my one of my professors yesterday (another outrageous Brit!), and I think he summed things up well. He said “I don’t know how to teach here. I can’t do a proper lecture, because the students in the class are of such varying ability– some speak English just fine, and some hardly understand a thing I say. Frankly, you’re probably going to be bored a lot, as the lectures are largely going to be spent making sure people understood the reading.” When expressing my concern that studying in Thailand would place me behind in my studies at home, Dr. Ball put it quite plainly, “if you study for a year here, you will be behind when you go home.”

Troubling. Of course, academic education is only part of the reason why I’m here. There’s also the cultural education– the personal education, the experience of being here with these wonderful but confusing people, a world apart from the home and customs that I’m used to. And perhaps that’s all the more valuable– more than anything I could gain from a book or the most learnèd of professors.

We’ll see how things go. I’m only a week into this venture. Eleven days, it’s hard to believe that it’s been that long, and it’s hard to believe that it’s only been eleven days.

I slept through my 12:30PM class this morning.

No, actually I didn’t, but I dreamed that I did. When I finally got up, my thought process was something to the effect of “I’d better get up so that I don’t sleep through my 2:00 class as well. Wait… I couldn’t have slept that long. I wonder if I just dreamed that. Where’s a clock… 11:05. Oh, thank goodness! …”

So now I’m sitting in my room in my wonderful, air-conditioned room in my boxers listening to David Bowie and eating a mad horticulturist’s experiment gone strange. Here. The facts are these:

1) I bought a cantaloupe at Makro for 47 bhat.

2) I waited a full week for it to ripen. It never did.

3) When I cut open the cantaloupe, the flesh was distinctly green.

4) It tastes rather like honeydew.

5) On the outside, it is definitely a cantaloupe. Not a honeydew.

Maybe I’ll take a picture so you don’t think that I’m insane. (I’m not, mind you!–)

By any measure, it’s not especially good, and I need to shower and eat lunch and make it to campus by 12:30. Ta ta!

This is so strange. I’m here 11 minutes before the class is scheduled to start, and the classroom is empty. Not because it’s the wrong classroom, but rather because the students and teachers here operate on “Thai time.”

My History of Western Art class is going to be great. My prof is the quintessential high-energy Brit– speaks a dozen words a second, throws in lots of subtle, dry humor, and is generally a riot, as most high-energy brits are.

Five minutes before class begins, the first student (myself aside) shows up.

I’m very concerned, though– the class is 100% lecture. Although there is “suggested reading,” there isn’t a book for the course. For a guy who likes to go to 50% of the class and do 100% of the reading, this is going to take some adjusting. Additionally, my grades will be determined entirely by a mid-term and a final. Since I won’t have any nightly homework, I’m going to need to somehow force myself to sit down and study… and that’s going to be difficult. But I’ll manage.

Ah. Two minutes before class is scheduled to begin, and the four students at came in three minutes ago have disappeared. They left their stuff, but I still can’t help but wonder– did the room get changed? Did the meeting time get changed? Oh, good. 3:29, and here come some more.

Mmm. Ice cream. The Green Tea ice cream here is… amazing. Amazing that something could taste that good.

(five hours later)

It rained like crazy this afternoon. Well, it rains here like crazy most afternoons; it’s monsoon season, after all!

Here’s a picture of the mall I mentioned in my last post:

It’s kinda a fish-eye effect… because I’m tricky like that. In actuality, everything is quite square and flat.

This is the river that I take a ferry across every morning on my way to class:

I’ve been re-working my schedule a little tonight. I’m having a hard time finding 18 credits of classes that are going to transfer back to MSU within my major, which is a little troubling.

William… you’re going to laugh at me. I had signed up for a “Basic Business Communication” class, which, you’ll be relieved to know, after one class period, I’m dropping. Honestly, I’m thinking about picking up a business minor, but maybe I’ll discuss that at some other time. It’s ironic and it’s not. I’ll explain. But later.

Anyhow. As the prof is introducing the course, she’s explaining that “the purpose of this course is to teach you how to use words to make you sound more powerful, simply by using proper business terminology. Some of you may ask, ‘isn’t that lying,’ but it isn’t– it’s just making yourself look as good as you possibly can, Because, at the end of the day, it’s a dog eat dog world out there. It’s difficult. You need to be able to get ahead, to stand out.” Ug. Somehow this is exactly what I expected a business class would be like. After the intro, we spent the entire class working on exercises where we would take a modest sounding resume item, “Five years of babysitting experience,” for example, and (by using the correct business terminology) make it sound more impressive. Thus, our example became “Five years of coordinating and supervising activities for small children.” (no joke!) “Did volunteering at battered women’s shelter” became “Actively volunteered at a community battered women’s shelter.” “Seven years as a housewife” became “Planned, administered and controlled the household budget for seven years.”

I kid you not.

Anyhow. At the end of the class, the prof decided that I was sufficiently proficient at over-inflating my resume (c’mon– I’ve been doing this for years. Even in Jr. High, when I mowed lawns, we weren’t just some lawn boys, we were “landscape engineers” or “lawn care professionals.” Ke ke ke) and she advised me to find a more challenging class.

Sheesh. Makes one wonder how people like Jade could turn out to be so cool. =)

on, no. just peachy. yeah, that’s right. just p-e-a-c-h-y.

i’m going to bed.

i hope i don’t have class in the morning.

God, blogging and email seems to take such a long time… Eesh. Oh well.

So… last night was pretty crazy. I went out with Mehran and Steven to see a Muay Thai match– Thai boxing. Boxing isn’t necessarily … “my thing,” but I’m here for the experience, and Muay Thai is a large part of Thai culture. Anyhow, being marked as tourists from the moment we stepped out of the cab, we were … escorted and talked into buying ring-side seats, which were pricey but probably worthwhile. The boxing itself is was just plain crazy (google it for some pictures–). It’s like American boxing, except the Thai fighters use their feet and knees as well. As a matter of fact, the feet and knees were probably used more than the gloved fists, although the knockouts were invariably from a well-placed punch. The fighters themselves were tiny– most of them were 18, and probably not more than 120lbs. It was also surprisingly good natured– one fighter using his technique against the other– and the fighters would often slap gloves or hug briefly after the matches. Although violent, I don’t think that anger ever entered the ring last night.

Needless to say, the boxing match was fabulous. There were actually seven matches of five rounds each, three minutes per round. Live musicians provided traditional Thai music that the boxers, more often than not, would move to– almost as though dancing.

Often, I’ve been the kid that’s been do drunk I’ve needed someone to look after me, but last night the tables turned a bit. Steven, a new acquaintance from Seattle, drank entirely too much before and during the match last night. Of course, he was hitting on everything with legs last night. Our waitress, Kung, got the worst of it– “will you go on a date with me?” “you’re beautiful…” “I love you…” and a lot of broken French that Kung, who barely spoke English, didn’t understand any better than the rest of us. As a pleasant bi-product (ha– no pun intended) of this, Mehran got to talk with Kung a little during and after the match.

I’m consistently surprised by the Thai’s generosity (not so much in terms of material goods, but with their time, friendship). To make a long story shorter, after the match we couldn’t find Steven, despite numerous cell phone calls (mostly consisting of “where are you?” “I don’t know!” “what can you see?” “I see a black car.” “Yeah. That helps. Can you see a bridge..?”). We were about to abandon Steven to his own devices, when he called my phone.

“You guys gotta help me, I’ve been arrested.”

Maybe I should preface this by telling you a little about Steven first. He’s bi, and about my height and build– a little taller and skinnier, with dark brown hair. He studied for a year in France, and is, from the little I know him, a pretty intelligent and cultured guy. Although admittedly a little dorky, he seems soft-spoken and well composed. With that in mind…

Beer makes people do strange things. Apparently, after the match, Steven had seen a bicycle on the street. It’s unclear whether the cops/area security were already chasing him at this point, but once he took the bike they after him like white after rice. It’s all a little fuzzy, but apparently he, while riding the bike, he saw a motorbike, which looked faster. He dropped the bike and jumped on the motorbike, and managed to ride it for nearly twenty feet before, having never driven a motorbike before, he crashed into the cement.

When we found him, thanks to Kung talking to one of Steven’s guards on my phone to find out where he was, he was being held by the security/police. Kung did some interpreting, and, laughingly, they gave Steven to us (who had been frantically using the ATM machine, trying to pull enough money from his bank account to bribe the security guys into not sending him to Thai prison…) and told us to make sure that he was better behaved in the future.

And that… was my adventure last night.

Yesterday was spent wandering through … more malls. I’ve ceased to be impressed, although the Paradise mall’s six-story, multi-tiered waterfall that cascaded into a pool at the bottom with six foot long catfish was pretty cool. I’ll probably go back and check out the water-park on the top of the mall before I leave.

Of more interest was an older mall that I found. It was obvious that, at one point, this mall had been as clean and prosperous as the other malls I’ve seen. At only five stories tall, it had a Ferris-wheel on top, but half its booths were empty, its fountain wasn’t running, and a large part of the mall was boarded off all together. I guess that it just serves as a good example of the seeming transient nature of Bangkok (and other big cities). The money moved to a newer part of the city, leaving behind dilapidated monuments to former affluence.

Here’re a few pictures:

This is the King Rama XIII bridge (well, you can’t see the bridge– I’ll get a picture of that later, perhaps), built in honor of the last king who reigned until 1947, Rama XIII. Taken from my apartment.

New Bangkok skyline, taken from the same place.

Josh at dinner last night:

A few blocks from our apartment, this restaurant, called Nite, is a do-it-yourself Mongolian grill, of sorts. When we were seated, an an oven (of sorts)– a pot with coals in the bottom and a cooking surface on top with a ring of water around the edge– was brought to our table (on the right). There was a large buffet table with various meats, vegetables and sauces that we filled our plates from, and then brought the food back to the table and cooked it (you can see some meat on top of the oven). It was, all at the same time, tasty, a(n?) unique experience, and a lot of fun.

Where to begin?

Today… well, wasn’t especially… productive.

As a matter of fact, my day’s accomplishments are two:

1) I managed to purchase sheets for my bed (whoo!) and 2) I was able to charge up my pre-pay cell phone for the next three and a half months (for the equivalent of ~$17).

I did make it down to the Pinklao Central Mall, which was probably about the size of the Mall of America (Bangkok has three of these, the other two of which are bigger, or so I’m told). Although it didn’t have a roller coaster inside, it was seven stories tall, and filled with clothing stores, cell phone vendors, tech stores, coffee shops on every floor (including a Starbucks– I’ve lost count of how many I’ve seen) and everything else that you find in an American mall. If you can imagine, it was just as clean, if not cleaner…

I don’t even want to think about how much time and money was spent in various busses, taxis and boats today… but it seems like that’s how most of the day was spent. Fortunately, I’m starting to get a little better acquainted with the area, so hopefully the time spent in mass-transportation will be greatly reduced in the future.

Tonight was spent with Gun, Sarah (probably misspelled, pronounced sah-raa), Takesh, Masako, and a few other of Gun’s friends. After dinner and hanging out at Gun’s apartment for a while (the squirt, squirt game strikes again! bwa ha ha!), we headed down to Siam Square, which is another affluent and well-developed part of Bangkok. Unfortunately, I was barred from the bar (yeah, pun intended… yeah, lame, I know… what-ev…) because I’m only nineteen (most of the exchange students I’ve met are 22 or 23– I’m the only sophomore exchange student… Ar. I’m really kicking myself for not bringing my fake… why I didn’t, I couldn’t tell you, other than the fact that Thailand doesn’t have a state-enforced drinking age, and I read that most foreigners aren’t carded… what-ev… But anyhow, the rest of the group stayed at the bar, and Josh and I headed off and met up with some other students who were in another part of Siam square.

Eventually we made it back to our apartment, where I met Elise and Linda– two of the French exchange students. Ha– all I can say is that they’re French, and … both wonderfully and terribly so. Of course, I can’t but agree with most of their snide and derogatory comments about Americans, and they provided me with a lot of good laughs over the hour or so we stood in the hall outside their doors.

Off of a tip from Heinrick (sp?!) and Lowry, two other students staying at my apartment (German and Finnish, respectively), Josh and I discovered the open roof on our apartment tonight. Although it’s only eight floors high, it’s fabulous– a huge, open area, with a 360 view of Bangkok’s skyline…

And oh, my goodness, was that an experience… so, I went out to go find some food and an internet card (because, apparently, someone caught on to the fact that I was stealing internet…). On my way back, I stopped off at a random street vendor, who gave me a cup of steaming soup for 20 baht. It was very tasty, but… there were large chunks of a dark, red meat in it, with a almost tofu-esque texture. In the dim light, I told myself that it was just some sort of soybean thing, like tofu. When I made it back to the Indra (my apartment), I couldn’t help but unequivocally identify what I was eating as… meat.

Of course, if I hadn’t been raised in a western country, I’m sure that I could have just enjoyed the rest of my soup, without a second thought. For the record, I did finish the rest of my soup… but not without a slight sick feeling in my stomach. =)

Speaking of experiences… Josh and I were walking by the Royal Palace around 2:00AM yesterday, and I noticed a Thai girl, presumably a hooker, making a b-line for me. What caught me off guard, however, was when I heard his voice– it was deeper than mine. Goodness.

I hate how limited my Thai is, and I can’t wait until I start taking the language class.

This post could be titled “jetlag is killing me.” Or “don’t these people ever sleep?” Or “god, this is NASTY!” Or “god, this is GOOD!” Or “wow… this is … interesting?” Or “Skype rocks.”

I guess I’ll attempt to placate the masses, and begin with a few photos (if/when I get broadband, I’ll start uploading hoards. In the mean time, this will have to do.).

This is a picture taken from the New World Lodge, where I stayed for the first two nights. It has rained off and on over the last few days, but apparently it has been unseasonably sunny.

This dog is taking a nap in a random phone booth. Stray dogs and cats are surprisingly common– some of which are friendly, some of which are skiddish, but all of which look like they’re well fed. Speaking of which, Josh (my roommate from Mansfield, Penn.) and I saw some NYC-sized rats tonight as we were walking through a poorer part of Bangkok. Not only were they huge, but they were surprisingly bold– making me wish for some good, thick shoes so I didn’t feel as though my toes were potential rat-food.

This is a picture from Thammasat. I’ll make a point of tracking down more to give you a better idea of what the campus looks like.

Approximately 31,000 students attend Thammasat, spread across four campuses. My campus is the oldest of the four, and is perhaps half the size of Montana State.

I will be wearing a uniform, consisting of a white dress shirt and black dress pants every day while on campus. On balance, Thailand is highly conservative– in dress, in mannerisms, in politics… Although not strictly “required,” the uniforms are encouraged, and many professors will not allow students to take their final exams if they are not dressed properly. Even off campus, shorts are considered only appropriate for beaches and for playing sports, which is going to kill me (assuming that I buckle down and conform). Similarly, one may be turned away from Wats (monasteries) and other tourist attractions like the Royal Palace if one isn’t dressed appropriately.

This is Josh and I moving in to our apartment. We’re on the 6th floor, have air conditioning, and a balcony. Although not much by American standards, it’s about twice the size (common room included) of what I was living in last year. Unlike the hotel we were staying at, however, this is not a tourist-y part of the city, which is nice in its own right. English is much less prevalent here, as are American brands, chains and companies. There seems to be an almost direct correlation between the number of 7-Elevens and the tourist attraction of an area– there was a 7-Eleven on every corner by the hotel I stayed at, whereas I don’t know where the nearest 7-Eleven is from my apartment.

This is looking out from my balcony. Immediately below is a private elementary school and soccer club. Unfortunately, things like open-space and green grass are not available to Bangkok’s public.

Many of the more poor areas don’t have streets– just small sidewalks like this one, winding in and out of decaying shacks. Little motorcycles are everywhere, and are driven anywhere that can be walked to.

Random vendor, stray dog.

Even the poorest of houses seem typically to have a miniature Wat with figurines inside, usually accompanied by flowers and incense.

Typical power-pole. And yet, so far, the electricity has been rather stable.

That’s all for photos, right now. Surprisingly, I haven’t taken many, but I’m in no hurry.

I bought a cellphone yesterday. It’s about the size of an iPod mini, and theoretically should only need to be charged once every week or two. God, America is SO far behind at the cell-phone game– Bangkok doesn’t have drinkable water, but their cell technology puts America to shame.

I still don’t have reliable access to the internet, but that seems forthcoming.

On a positive note, Skype seems to work just fine on my current dial-up connection, so I’ve been able to make a phone call or two. Now I just need to be awake at the same time of day as the rest of you…

Ya-hey!!

Hello from … Bangkok. How weird. Apparently I made it. The local time is… 1:50AM, and I’m wandering around the streets of Bangkok, drinking a strage Thai beer, with my roommate to be, Josh.

I think the first thing that strikes me is that… it’s 1:50AM and there are a LOT of places open, and people walking down the streets, and little tuk-tuks (death on three wheels, to be sure) darting down alleys. I had heard that Bangkok has great night-life, and already I’m getting strong indications that this is true.

This Internet Cafe is in a little better shape than the last– this actually has a clean, professional look, and the computers even have fully-assembled cases.

The flights over were… long, but shortened by my uncanny ability to sleep anywhere at any time. Go me!

On balance… things are significantly more Americanized (or westernized) than I expected. I recognize all the brand names, and there’s a Seven-Eleven on every corner. Half the TV channels are in English, and we get both CNN and ESPN.

And that’s all for now.

Zero.

Ke ke ke. I just played NES and SNES games for a half hour. Unfortunately, that’s all the longer that they were able to hold my attention. Amazing– I used to be able to play those games for hours. Hell, I used to make time to play those games. Now

I’m sitting on an airplane, just trying to pass the time, and I can’t seem to find the attention span to play Zelda for more than five minutes, or Z-Racer for more than a few laps. Sad.

It’s so strange to be in this monster airplane (a Boeing 747-400). In terms of space, it’s probably 1.5 times the size of my house, and it’s flying through the air. What’s more (except for a little turbulence that we’re going through right now) it’s outragously steady. Like… a house. It’s just strange. It’s additionally strange because all the shades have been closed for the last few hours, so it feels like we’ve been flying at night, despite it being… 2:00PM (with respect to our current

time zone) outside. It’s also strange that I’ve been on the plane for five hours and, despite having boarded at 1:45PM, it’s probably only 2:00PM. Yeah. Time is illusory. It’s a thief, a robber. Designed to devalue our lives and to turn our lives into quantifiable, marketable commodities. Eight to five. Eight to five. Five days a week. Punch the clock. They own you. The clock on the wall owns you. The atomic clock, keeping time precise within a few milliseconds over a few milleniums… unbending.

Unflexible. Steel bars that you can see life flowing past on the other side…

Ha ha. Random angst. =)

I’ll be in Tokyo in four hours, and Bangkok eight hours after that. How cool. I can’t even begin to explain how stoked I am.

The more I read about Thailand, the more I excited I find myself…

Twenty hours into this venture, I miss people, though. I see AOM and Counter-Strike on my computer… but who do I have to play them with? Who do I have to share a seat with, that won’t be annoyed at the American who fell asleep and fell on her shoulder?

Once I’m on the ground, however, I think that’s all going to be behind me. It’s just this damned plane ride– the seats are such that I don’t have any option except to gaze at my navel.

Hence the random-ass “time” angst, I suppose. Hmm. Back to my book. And Beethoven’s 5th. GOD I wish I had my headphones. These earbuds are TERRIBLE. By the same token, however, everyone around me, although they don’t know it, is very glad that my headphones (hopefully!!) are stowed in my duffle bag somewhere below us.

It is currently negative 63 degrees centigrade outside the cabin.

Speaking of which, I’m really curious now– I wonder if its possible to go downstairs into the cargo area from up the seating area, like you can in Rogue Spear. I’m half tempted to investigate, but doubtless someone would think that I was a terrorist (despite my obviously lack of a Walter WA-2000!) and I would get gunned down by an elite team of H&K MP5-weilding special ops units. Mmm. I miss Rogue Spear. I haven’t played that game in … forever. And I think it may still the title of “Mark’s favorite game of all time.”

Again, this is random, boring rambling. But it’s more entertaining than SNES games. Sad. I’m really going to go read my book now…

(posted from Narita International Airport, Tokyo, Japan)