My apologies in advance for any typos, as I think the majority of this post will be typed with my eyes closed since I am literally too tired to exert enough effort to keep them open. Or maybe I'll just squint.
It's about 10:45pm here and I just got back from dinner - watching/listening to the US-Spain basketball match now and there's only about 8 minutes left, at which point I hope to be done typing this...we'll see how that goes.
I know last night's post was probably a bit raunchy and too much information, so I'm going to try to provide a more PG version of today's activities. When I spend every day with American Red Cross people, it's hard to remember that not everyone lives in our weird little world with suggested content behind every phrase and the most liberal-based conversations known to mankind. Today was a REALLY fun and interesting day! I woke up early, around 7:30am (even though I ended up sleeping around 3:30am last night - four hours of sleep is plenty). I received a wake-up call from the front desk, but even better, I also received a wake-up call from my parents!I hadn't talked to them since I left for my trip, so it was really nice to hear their voices and catch up with them. After a brief chat, I got dressed and Vanessa called to head down to the gym. I'm usually not a fan of ellipticals, but today I joined Vanessa and gave it a shot. I don't know why it takes more energy to go slower on the elliptical than it takes to go faster? I feel like when I do more rpm, I'm less tired and I can keep going, but going slowly just drains my energy so much faster - what's up with that?
Anyways, after our gym time, we came upstairs, showered, and went down to breakfast. Vanessa's friend Katie, who used to work with ARC on the Tsunami Recovery Program and now works in Bangkok, joined us and Maya for a delicious breakfast of scambled eggs, hashbrowns, fruit, and a million other yummies before heading out for our adventures at the ancient ruins. Ryan, another co-worker who had just flown in last night, was also up and running and decided to join us too. We wanted to go to Ayutthaya, otherwise known as the "old Thai kingdom" which is about an hour north of Bangkok and full of so many ancient monestaries and temples, many of which had been destroyed by moguls and the Buddha statues had been beheaded.
Our original plan was to take the train to get there, but after checking out the train schedule and some haggling around and last-minute planning, we decided it would be better to take a taxi - which also ended up being cheaper. The five of us piled into a mid-size cab and were on our way. On our way, we played games, such as reading from our guidebook in different accents (actually, that was just V), adding inappropriate words in front of the make/model names of cars to see which is more raunchy, and telling stories regarding information that no one ever needs to know. Oh how I love my co-workers. :)
On our way there, I kept thinking how crazy it is to be spending time with my co-workers so easily like this, and even to have co-workers at all. Everyone I work with is at least several, if not many more, years older than me. Right now I'm pretty sure I'm the youngest person working in the International department, which is quite a large feat, but at the same time can be really intimidating and scary.
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...and that's about as far as I got before my eyes closed for the night yesterday. Whoops. I don't have much time now either since I need to leave for a night out in 30 minutes, but let's see how far this goes.
Yesterday we finally arrived in Ayutthaya with a driver who hardly spoke any English and a guidebook that had information on everything except what we needed to tell him. We made it to all the temples okay, but as for trying to find Tony's Place - an amazing food spot that also lets you rent bicycles - we had some trouble. Nevertheless, we eventually made it there for lunch of delicious Thai food. This time I tried fried rice with vegetables, which was amazing when spruced up with the right spices. There's no doubt in my mind that spices just taste better in Asia. I don't care if they're the exact same thing in the states - there's a certain quality they have to them that can't be replicated anywhere else. The five of us enjoyed our meal with a side of hilariously awkward and personal conversations, but those will stay at the table.
As much as I love the countries of Asia, exploring them and immersing myself in its cultures, one thing I cannot wrap my head around is the poverty and terrible conditions that people are subjected to. Beggars missing limbs crawl along the sides of the street with such hopeless eyes that I literally want to cry when I see them. I don't know how someone could end up in such a condition without suffering from violence from another person or inanimate object, whether machinery in a factory or a forgotten landmine. It truly breaks my heart, and it's something I don't think I will ever get over. The quality of life and value for life in certain areas of any country can be so demoralizing. I used to think it was our value for a person's work that correlated with the way they were treated, which triggers my emotional uneasiness, but after a conversation at lunch earlier today with Kendall (our delegate from Vietnam) I realized it's not a person's occupation that determines how well they are treated by society, but rather the value of their life in general, since a person's occupation is very much tied to their life. I don't know if I'm making any sense - I'll rewrite/reword this later.
This whole conversation started a few days ago when we were talking about getting our teeth whitened here since everything is so much cheaper - and then we realized it's not the cost of the whitening itself that is expensive (since this place used the same tools, technique, and standards as in the states) but rather what's different is the cost of labor, or the value of labor, and therefore, the value of the person who is providing this service. The value for human life is less here than it is back home, and you have to ask yourself why. Kendall also told me a story at lunch today about how when he was volunteering with the Peace Corps in Ghana, there were so many sweatshops and factories there, and none of the local workers wore any sort of protective clothing, even though they were breathing in hazardous fumes and working around sharp objects. Yet, then some homeless bohemian frenchman came along looking for work in order to make money to go back home, and because of the color of his skin, his nationality, and whatever else made him special - he was suited from head to toe with protective gear before he was put to work. These kinds of stories really make you think about how we treat each other and what justifications we have behind it.
I know I go off tangent a lot, but I guess I was just trying to preface what I wanted to talk about next, which was our driver. He was a very nice Thai man who hardly spoke any English, yet wore a nicely ironed blue shirt and was more than happy to chauffer us around for the entire day, from monument to temple, to the monestary to restaurants, yet we didn't really have a true connection to him - he was part of our group, but not part of our group - he was just there. I know this happens a lot in India with drivers and other hired help too, but it's something I don't understand. When we eating at Tony's Place for lunch, I kept thinking about the driver and for probably the first half of our meal, all I could think about was what he was going to eat, where he was going to eat, who he was going to eat with, if we should pay him to eat, if we should invite him to eat with us, etc. I just felt wrong that we were enjoying this delicious meal while someone who was on this journey with us was left out. I also hate when people are left out, regardless of if they're hired help or my best friend. It felt wrong to me and I wanted to invite him to our table, even though he wouldn't contribute to the conversation or anything and might even make things awkward, but that's just not socially acceptable here. It's like how in India if you have a servant, the servant has to eat on the floor in the kitchen or something while the family can sit on chairs at a proper table and enjoy their meal. Even if the table is empty and the family has gone upstairs or something, they'll still go back to their quarters and eat there. What is that all about anyway? I was under the impression that all people were created equally, regardless of their race, gender, socio-economic status, occupation or whatever. I know I am beyond naive but I bet if we took the time to listen to the stories and engage in conversations with people who are "beneath" us, we'd realize that the struggles they overcome every single day and the hardships they've endured could prove they're not so "beneath" us afterall. Just. Saying.
Anyways. Back to yesterday. We visited probably five or six different monestaries/temples, each of which are huge and I could go on to tell an entire story about, but I'll just pick a couple of them. All of them were in ruins, ruined by the Burmese, but still fascinating nonetheless. One of my favorites was where I actually conquered a huge recent fear of mine - heights and steep stuff that make my feet tingle, my hands shake, and my palms sweat like a donkey in the middle of a desert. The temple is called Wat Ratchaburana, and was built in 1424 by the seventh king of Ayutthaya. As my guide book says, it was a memorial to his brothers who died as a result of a duel for the throne. If you climb up the monestary, you reach the very top landing where the temple sits, and inside, you can find a very narrow, dimly lit, steep staircase that looks as though it descends into the oblivion, or you know, to your death. Tourists went up and down a few at a time but I was absolutely petrified. They all came out with bewildered impressions, so glad they took the plunge. My friends were busy taking pictures at lower landings, so I was the only one up there having a near panic attack. Not only was it a terribly steep staircase, accompanied with brass railings that any slippery hand can easily let go of, but there was one way in and one way out of the crypt that laid below. So, not only did I have to make my way down these terrifying steep steps, but I also had to climb my way out. My toes are going numb as I replay the images in my head. I chatted with a group of Swedish tourists who said it was definitely worth it and I should conquer my fears and just go for it - they were sweet. Maya and Ryan eventually made their way up and without hesitation just went for it, but I couldn't follow them. When they came back up and told me how cool the crypt was down below, I could hear my dad's voice in my head (as I often do when I'm unsure of situations or scared) - "What are you scared of? If everyone else can do it, so can you!" Now in retrospect, I think if he actually saw this nauseating, claustrophobic space, he probably would have told me to forget it. But in any case, I knew I would regret it if I didn't, and how often would I get a chance to come back here? Ryan said he would go first to make sure I didn't fall, but I wanted to conquer this by myself. (I really need to add pictures to this blog asap.) When he saw my hands shaking as I reached for the railing, he told me later that he almost stopped me from going, but I'm glad he didn't. I made my way down the stairs - literally one step at a time - as I nearly cried from the humidity/exhaustion/nervousness. I eventually made it down to the bottom, and I'm so glad I did. The crypt was absolutely beautiful with the most stunning artwork along the walls - I have no idea how they did it. It was truly an incredible sight, as narrow and small as it was, but I was able to crawl into the crypt actually and stand up to see the art along the walls. I'm not entirely sure if I was allowed to do that but...whatever. It was SUCH a cool experience and I can't wait to post pictures.
The other temple I wanted to mention really quickly was Wat Phra Sri Sanphet. Before we got to the temple, we stopped by a market on the way, which was a complete maze. Since it's the rainy season, they've basically created a huge network of stalls with food and trinkets for tourists, all canopied over in beautiful tarp. You have sizzling foods that add a spicy aroma to the bazaar, in addition to the sweet scents of mango, sugar, syrup, and countless other delicious foods. We all tried a bunch of different kinds of food, none of which I really remember the names of, but I really admired the way they were cooked in such tight quarters. I stopped to get a present for a friend that I know is going to perfect for her (I love when I have those moments). While the artist was working on it, Katie stopped by to let me know everyone was going to go ahead to one of the temples beyond the bazaar, which was fine with me...until I realized how long the artist was taking and how much distance was accumulating between me and my group. After he was done with the gift, I tried to find my way out of this crazy labyrinth of stalls, none of which were pointing the right direction. The stuffy air started suffocating me, and not being able to see sunlight wasn't helpful either. I eventually got out of the maze, but on the wrong side from the temples - which meant I had to go back in and try to find my way to the other side. Panic mode was starting to set in. Remember that scene from Moulin Rouge where Nicole Kidman is spinning around and sees a million colors all blurred together, and eventually passes out? I was getting there. I began reciting the mul mantra in my head, hoping and praying that I would find my friends among this chaotic and neverending parade of tourists and locals - all of this for that for one gift. Just when I was starting to lose hope and my heart was beating out of my chest, I decided to turn around to at least try to find our driver. I emerged out of the canopy of colors to find Maya, who appeared out of nowhere, having come back for me, knowing that I would never be able to find the group again, let alone the right temple.
I don't think I have ever believed in God more than I did in that moment she appeared, staring right at me, as if just waiting for me to get there. I'm not an enthusiastically religious person, but it was quite a poetic moment.
We visited more temples and got a few great pictures, including this one below: our version of the three wise monkeys at Wat Phra Sri Sanphet.
It's about 10:45pm here and I just got back from dinner - watching/listening to the US-Spain basketball match now and there's only about 8 minutes left, at which point I hope to be done typing this...we'll see how that goes.
I know last night's post was probably a bit raunchy and too much information, so I'm going to try to provide a more PG version of today's activities. When I spend every day with American Red Cross people, it's hard to remember that not everyone lives in our weird little world with suggested content behind every phrase and the most liberal-based conversations known to mankind. Today was a REALLY fun and interesting day! I woke up early, around 7:30am (even though I ended up sleeping around 3:30am last night - four hours of sleep is plenty). I received a wake-up call from the front desk, but even better, I also received a wake-up call from my parents!I hadn't talked to them since I left for my trip, so it was really nice to hear their voices and catch up with them. After a brief chat, I got dressed and Vanessa called to head down to the gym. I'm usually not a fan of ellipticals, but today I joined Vanessa and gave it a shot. I don't know why it takes more energy to go slower on the elliptical than it takes to go faster? I feel like when I do more rpm, I'm less tired and I can keep going, but going slowly just drains my energy so much faster - what's up with that?
Anyways, after our gym time, we came upstairs, showered, and went down to breakfast. Vanessa's friend Katie, who used to work with ARC on the Tsunami Recovery Program and now works in Bangkok, joined us and Maya for a delicious breakfast of scambled eggs, hashbrowns, fruit, and a million other yummies before heading out for our adventures at the ancient ruins. Ryan, another co-worker who had just flown in last night, was also up and running and decided to join us too. We wanted to go to Ayutthaya, otherwise known as the "old Thai kingdom" which is about an hour north of Bangkok and full of so many ancient monestaries and temples, many of which had been destroyed by moguls and the Buddha statues had been beheaded.
Our original plan was to take the train to get there, but after checking out the train schedule and some haggling around and last-minute planning, we decided it would be better to take a taxi - which also ended up being cheaper. The five of us piled into a mid-size cab and were on our way. On our way, we played games, such as reading from our guidebook in different accents (actually, that was just V), adding inappropriate words in front of the make/model names of cars to see which is more raunchy, and telling stories regarding information that no one ever needs to know. Oh how I love my co-workers. :)
On our way there, I kept thinking how crazy it is to be spending time with my co-workers so easily like this, and even to have co-workers at all. Everyone I work with is at least several, if not many more, years older than me. Right now I'm pretty sure I'm the youngest person working in the International department, which is quite a large feat, but at the same time can be really intimidating and scary.
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...and that's about as far as I got before my eyes closed for the night yesterday. Whoops. I don't have much time now either since I need to leave for a night out in 30 minutes, but let's see how far this goes.
Yesterday we finally arrived in Ayutthaya with a driver who hardly spoke any English and a guidebook that had information on everything except what we needed to tell him. We made it to all the temples okay, but as for trying to find Tony's Place - an amazing food spot that also lets you rent bicycles - we had some trouble. Nevertheless, we eventually made it there for lunch of delicious Thai food. This time I tried fried rice with vegetables, which was amazing when spruced up with the right spices. There's no doubt in my mind that spices just taste better in Asia. I don't care if they're the exact same thing in the states - there's a certain quality they have to them that can't be replicated anywhere else. The five of us enjoyed our meal with a side of hilariously awkward and personal conversations, but those will stay at the table.
As much as I love the countries of Asia, exploring them and immersing myself in its cultures, one thing I cannot wrap my head around is the poverty and terrible conditions that people are subjected to. Beggars missing limbs crawl along the sides of the street with such hopeless eyes that I literally want to cry when I see them. I don't know how someone could end up in such a condition without suffering from violence from another person or inanimate object, whether machinery in a factory or a forgotten landmine. It truly breaks my heart, and it's something I don't think I will ever get over. The quality of life and value for life in certain areas of any country can be so demoralizing. I used to think it was our value for a person's work that correlated with the way they were treated, which triggers my emotional uneasiness, but after a conversation at lunch earlier today with Kendall (our delegate from Vietnam) I realized it's not a person's occupation that determines how well they are treated by society, but rather the value of their life in general, since a person's occupation is very much tied to their life. I don't know if I'm making any sense - I'll rewrite/reword this later.
This whole conversation started a few days ago when we were talking about getting our teeth whitened here since everything is so much cheaper - and then we realized it's not the cost of the whitening itself that is expensive (since this place used the same tools, technique, and standards as in the states) but rather what's different is the cost of labor, or the value of labor, and therefore, the value of the person who is providing this service. The value for human life is less here than it is back home, and you have to ask yourself why. Kendall also told me a story at lunch today about how when he was volunteering with the Peace Corps in Ghana, there were so many sweatshops and factories there, and none of the local workers wore any sort of protective clothing, even though they were breathing in hazardous fumes and working around sharp objects. Yet, then some homeless bohemian frenchman came along looking for work in order to make money to go back home, and because of the color of his skin, his nationality, and whatever else made him special - he was suited from head to toe with protective gear before he was put to work. These kinds of stories really make you think about how we treat each other and what justifications we have behind it.
I know I go off tangent a lot, but I guess I was just trying to preface what I wanted to talk about next, which was our driver. He was a very nice Thai man who hardly spoke any English, yet wore a nicely ironed blue shirt and was more than happy to chauffer us around for the entire day, from monument to temple, to the monestary to restaurants, yet we didn't really have a true connection to him - he was part of our group, but not part of our group - he was just there. I know this happens a lot in India with drivers and other hired help too, but it's something I don't understand. When we eating at Tony's Place for lunch, I kept thinking about the driver and for probably the first half of our meal, all I could think about was what he was going to eat, where he was going to eat, who he was going to eat with, if we should pay him to eat, if we should invite him to eat with us, etc. I just felt wrong that we were enjoying this delicious meal while someone who was on this journey with us was left out. I also hate when people are left out, regardless of if they're hired help or my best friend. It felt wrong to me and I wanted to invite him to our table, even though he wouldn't contribute to the conversation or anything and might even make things awkward, but that's just not socially acceptable here. It's like how in India if you have a servant, the servant has to eat on the floor in the kitchen or something while the family can sit on chairs at a proper table and enjoy their meal. Even if the table is empty and the family has gone upstairs or something, they'll still go back to their quarters and eat there. What is that all about anyway? I was under the impression that all people were created equally, regardless of their race, gender, socio-economic status, occupation or whatever. I know I am beyond naive but I bet if we took the time to listen to the stories and engage in conversations with people who are "beneath" us, we'd realize that the struggles they overcome every single day and the hardships they've endured could prove they're not so "beneath" us afterall. Just. Saying.
Anyways. Back to yesterday. We visited probably five or six different monestaries/temples, each of which are huge and I could go on to tell an entire story about, but I'll just pick a couple of them. All of them were in ruins, ruined by the Burmese, but still fascinating nonetheless. One of my favorites was where I actually conquered a huge recent fear of mine - heights and steep stuff that make my feet tingle, my hands shake, and my palms sweat like a donkey in the middle of a desert. The temple is called Wat Ratchaburana, and was built in 1424 by the seventh king of Ayutthaya. As my guide book says, it was a memorial to his brothers who died as a result of a duel for the throne. If you climb up the monestary, you reach the very top landing where the temple sits, and inside, you can find a very narrow, dimly lit, steep staircase that looks as though it descends into the oblivion, or you know, to your death. Tourists went up and down a few at a time but I was absolutely petrified. They all came out with bewildered impressions, so glad they took the plunge. My friends were busy taking pictures at lower landings, so I was the only one up there having a near panic attack. Not only was it a terribly steep staircase, accompanied with brass railings that any slippery hand can easily let go of, but there was one way in and one way out of the crypt that laid below. So, not only did I have to make my way down these terrifying steep steps, but I also had to climb my way out. My toes are going numb as I replay the images in my head. I chatted with a group of Swedish tourists who said it was definitely worth it and I should conquer my fears and just go for it - they were sweet. Maya and Ryan eventually made their way up and without hesitation just went for it, but I couldn't follow them. When they came back up and told me how cool the crypt was down below, I could hear my dad's voice in my head (as I often do when I'm unsure of situations or scared) - "What are you scared of? If everyone else can do it, so can you!" Now in retrospect, I think if he actually saw this nauseating, claustrophobic space, he probably would have told me to forget it. But in any case, I knew I would regret it if I didn't, and how often would I get a chance to come back here? Ryan said he would go first to make sure I didn't fall, but I wanted to conquer this by myself. (I really need to add pictures to this blog asap.) When he saw my hands shaking as I reached for the railing, he told me later that he almost stopped me from going, but I'm glad he didn't. I made my way down the stairs - literally one step at a time - as I nearly cried from the humidity/exhaustion/nervousness. I eventually made it down to the bottom, and I'm so glad I did. The crypt was absolutely beautiful with the most stunning artwork along the walls - I have no idea how they did it. It was truly an incredible sight, as narrow and small as it was, but I was able to crawl into the crypt actually and stand up to see the art along the walls. I'm not entirely sure if I was allowed to do that but...whatever. It was SUCH a cool experience and I can't wait to post pictures.
The other temple I wanted to mention really quickly was Wat Phra Sri Sanphet. Before we got to the temple, we stopped by a market on the way, which was a complete maze. Since it's the rainy season, they've basically created a huge network of stalls with food and trinkets for tourists, all canopied over in beautiful tarp. You have sizzling foods that add a spicy aroma to the bazaar, in addition to the sweet scents of mango, sugar, syrup, and countless other delicious foods. We all tried a bunch of different kinds of food, none of which I really remember the names of, but I really admired the way they were cooked in such tight quarters. I stopped to get a present for a friend that I know is going to perfect for her (I love when I have those moments). While the artist was working on it, Katie stopped by to let me know everyone was going to go ahead to one of the temples beyond the bazaar, which was fine with me...until I realized how long the artist was taking and how much distance was accumulating between me and my group. After he was done with the gift, I tried to find my way out of this crazy labyrinth of stalls, none of which were pointing the right direction. The stuffy air started suffocating me, and not being able to see sunlight wasn't helpful either. I eventually got out of the maze, but on the wrong side from the temples - which meant I had to go back in and try to find my way to the other side. Panic mode was starting to set in. Remember that scene from Moulin Rouge where Nicole Kidman is spinning around and sees a million colors all blurred together, and eventually passes out? I was getting there. I began reciting the mul mantra in my head, hoping and praying that I would find my friends among this chaotic and neverending parade of tourists and locals - all of this for that for one gift. Just when I was starting to lose hope and my heart was beating out of my chest, I decided to turn around to at least try to find our driver. I emerged out of the canopy of colors to find Maya, who appeared out of nowhere, having come back for me, knowing that I would never be able to find the group again, let alone the right temple.
I don't think I have ever believed in God more than I did in that moment she appeared, staring right at me, as if just waiting for me to get there. I'm not an enthusiastically religious person, but it was quite a poetic moment.
We visited more temples and got a few great pictures, including this one below: our version of the three wise monkeys at Wat Phra Sri Sanphet.
After spending nearly the entire day at the temples in Ayutthaya, we took our cab back to Bangkok. On the way, we saw the city light up for the Queen's birthday/Mother's Day. The royal family here is quite revered, and we were advised to not really talk about any of them in public, since it might land us in jail. Nonetheless, the city lights in celebration were gorgeous.
When we got back, we all (plus Sonia) ended up going back to the same place Vanessa and I went the night before - a restaurant/bar down the road from our hotel called Cheers. As we ate, we noticed an odd threesome in the corner - an old man, a young girl (maybe around 18-20 years old), and what appeared to be the girl's mother. The trio was incredibly quiet, hardly saying anything, and the girl just continued getting drinks at the bar and bringing them back to the table. Vanessa informed us that the mother could be there to "supervise" as in, make sure the old fart of a perv that her daughter is about to make nice with is willing to pay enough. Something like that.
We ended our evening with the most amazing banana pancakes at Cheers - I don't even like bananas but now I know exactly what Jack Johnson is singing about. They're definitely the best pancakes I've ever had EVER, and I can't wait to go back and get more!
Okay, done with Sunday (which I ended up finishing to write on Wednesday). Now time to catch up on more blog writing...
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