Chiang Mai Vs. the rest of Thailand

In a post Hangover 2 world, I feel people only think of Thailand as a hot, smoggy Bangkok. And while early posts of mine talk the world of this City of Life, I can boast with confidence to future Thailand travelers to skip this bustling city of scam artists, tourist traps and more Europeans than the world cup and fly right into Chiang Mai. This crafty, quiet city has the charm of an old country city and somehow still the convenience of an international city. It's streets are littered with little massage boutiques, open air cafes and the occasional tattoo parlor and aside from the few touristy sites, less foreigners than most Thai cities. During the day, mopeds and pedestrians flood the simple streets and at dusk most venture to the colorful night bazaar or local lady boy cabaret show. The city hosts several elaborate wats (buddhist temples) and the only large buildings are resorts or hotels. Just outside metropolitan Chiang Mai lies stunning mountains and lush jungle. There is a tiger "kingdom" which is easily accesible by tour trips but I recommend renting a motor bike and following a map. The scenic drive is only a little hectic when first leaving the old city and soon becomes easier and peaceful once you pass the main highways. The whole trip seems to take about 45 minutes to an hour but is worth the time. Plus, when you find a place yourself and aren't accompanied by fellow tourists, the trip seems to be that much better! The tiger kingdom is worth the visit. Not overly expensive to pet and play with the debatably drugged felines and take trillions of pictures. The staff is incredibly friendly and the tigers don't seem to be treated poorly, with the exception of an obvious heroine addiction to keep them from mauling the tourists. Many times the tiger would snap out of his high and move a little to brisk for my

comfortability and I would quickly feel like a guest at Jurassic Park, but the staff knew how to bring the tiger back down so nobody was eaten that day.

Yangmei Ancient Town

 

          After waiting for other Yangmei destined passengers, our typical-of-a-day-trip bus finally takes off out of metropolitan Nanning and into China's countryside. The moment tires touch sand and banana trees and farmland creep around us, I am instantly transported 15 years into provincial China. The bumpy, yet incredibly scenic trek was a bit scary. The day was rainy and the sand roads wet and muddy. I knew our rickety bus would at any moment be the victim of tragic mudslide but still hoped for the best. Occasionally, we'd drop off a passenger in the middle of nowhere and I had to wonder where the hell they might be going.
            Finally after our two hour imminent-landslide journey, our bus arrives in what appears to be a brick-laden ghost town. The rain has stopped but there is still that mystical fog that hangs low like you see in ancient Chinese paintings. Walking into the town center, we see locals selling homemade pickled and spiced vegetables and they are kind enough to offer a sample! Which for those of you that know me, samples are one of my guilty pleasures :)

          You can't help but feel history seep from the dirt roads and through the brick walls that encase this centuries old town. This town was created in the time of the Ming dynasty and many of the sites were lodgings or meeting places for it's members. Free range chickens roam the streets and stray dogs wrestle in front of vendors. People still inhabit this village but live a much more simpler lifestyle than modern Chinese. Unlike most of China's "ancient towns," this one is not commercial and still operates as a legit town. We checked out several little temples and old buildings and then had lunch. We had a famous local dish of pork with the skin and fatty strip under the skin still attached, seaweed soup, and an egg, tofu, tomato dish. Lunch was lovely, hearty and fulfilling.  We walked around for another hour or so and boarded our death trap transportation back to Nanning. On the way, I kept telling myself that if these large construction trucks didn't slide in the mud and tip, the bus would be fine, that the driver was controlling and capable. Of course, 15 minutes into the journey, we see a giant truck tip over on its side that apparently slid in the mud! Great. Anxiety sets in and I try to divert my attention by talking to my friend.
        The town was absolutely lovely and truly historic. The ride there, although scary, was equally pleasant. It's important to get out of the bustling city limits and take a little time to reflect in a quieter and more humble setting.

Good Morning Vietnam

            Upon exiting a snug, yet somehow comfortable sleeper train, I am met with a slight cool, not quite crisp   and still polluted air. The streets are silent and empty with few wandering stragglers, us included. We trek away from the train station, carting only our backpacks in search of cheaper transportation. It's 5 am. Only the few street lights whisper dirty, run down roads and buildings. My first glimpse into Hanoi, this ancient and debilitated city, is it's quite quintessentially beautiful. The city feels venerable and exhausted, years of history taking it's toll.

           We grab a cab and head to a more lively part of the city. Even at 5 am, few shops are beginning to open, Pho is being served and is that coffee I smell??!! We duck into a place my traveling mates only know as "Mama's house," but I can only imagine this Pho cafe has a lovely Vietnamese name. Finally, the moment I've been holding my breath for! Actual Vietnamese food and Pho! Back home I easily spend 10$ for a bowl of these magical rice noodles, bean sprouts, lime and cilantro and now I can have it for 2$. Both delicious and economical!Mama is an amazing cook and extremely hospitable. She figures out the wifi for me on my phone and when I spend to much time on the interwebs and not enough on my soup, she pantomimes to my phone down and scolds me in Vietnamese to eat my soup. After my internet and Pho indulgence, she brings me the most fabulous and strong cup of coffee, necessary to be awake at 5 am.
     

          As I check one thing off my Hanoi list, we head into the old quarter, just kind of wandering around as I snap pictures of everything. I love going to a new country. Nothing is like that first time. The new smells on every corner, different writing on each sign, the inability to communicate with anyone, and of course the new food! The thing about being American and eating in other countries is we eat almost everything from every inch of the world in America. We can access just about any dish! So when you actually try a favorite culinary genre in it's motherland, your mind is blown. While you can enjoy that particular something while your visiting, it most likely is ruined for you when you go home. So I was a little hesitant to eat all my faves.

         The more we stroll, the more people fill the streets. The park near the lake becomes a recreational circus with older people dancing, younger people stretching, and strange people doing a bunch of weird exercises. Motorbikes angrily rampage the streets as if waking up from months of cave hibernation. Dodging them is a true art. There really are no little green men lighting up the cross walk telling you to follow them, assuring you its okay and promising you the world on the other side. You really just have to time accordingly, hold your breath and make a run for it while bobbing and weaving.

         We follow our feet into a busy corner where the foreigners seem to be multiplying, I can only guess that we have stumbled into some sort of tourist breeding ground and a new litter may hatch at any moment, we must find that nest. The streets are littered with t-shirt stalls and other kitschy "Vietnamese" wares. Ladies selling fruit and other things while performing a very tricky scheme to get you to buy there crap. If they put it on you, it's yours, give me money. Genius.

        Managing to escape these fruit cons with only a bag of pineapple, we land in our next guilty pleasure eatery...

Drowning

As I rapidly approach 30, I see my dreams gradually diminish into shadows, equally as fast. I am kicking hard to stay afloat but am only sinking further and further into cold darkness. It feels like  someone has me by the ankles and is pulling me deeper. I can no longer hold my breath! I open my mouth as if to gasp for air only to get a mouth full of water. I gasp again. The icy water has made its way down my throat and into my lungs. If only I had gills to separate the water and oxygen.
10 years ago, if you asked me "Where do you see yourself at 30?" I would have said a prominent editor in New York, married, perhaps with children...living the dream.
5 years ago, "Where do you see yourself at 30?" Just finished my first novel, married, some big city, probably still New York, no kids, but a booming career.
Now ask me. Gainesville, maybe at UF maybe not. Working at Outback, hopefully not.
Granted I have some really cool experiences, and I love everything I've done. I wouldn't change a thing. But if you want to know why I'm drowning....
Some days my own pressure suffocates me, I struggle to loosen its white-knuckled grip from my neck and try to think of something else. Today I slipped under a thick layer of ice and fought the resistance to knock on the ice to get out or get someone's attention. No one heard me and the pulling began. This time no surface in sight. Just ice and water and darkness.

I've been 29 for 2 months now. Of my 3 before 30 goals, I've completed one and a half and a tenth.
Teach in another country. Check!
Finish school (4 years). Half done. 2 years to go.
Write the next great American novel. Started, far from finished.

So in an effort to find some peace of mind and perhaps swim to the surface, I've revised these goals.
Finish school before I turn 32.
Finish the next great American novel before 35.

And if I never get married, I must not become a crazy, cat lady (redundant?) The good news, I hate cats!

Okay, enough of this pity party! Thanks for listening :)

Back on that China grind

Readers, however few but awesome you are,

I do apologize for my inability to stay focused and dedicated. As my only Chinese New Year resolution, I promise to write more. And it's not that I lack dedication, but that I lack inspiration. It's not even a case of severe writer's block, but my mood and just my being as of late. Maybe even the weather. Oh well, time to stop dwelling on what is or was and focus on what will be....

    So people, here I am again, back in the Middle Kingdom. Despite its name, this place is not overrun by hobbits and elves but by tuk-tuks and food stands of stinky tofu. Yes, I am back in China, the middle kingdom, a place that has buildings older than my country. And while I am in a different city, it seems to mirror all the other Chinese cities. Nothing about any particular city really stands out to me. No real special character, only different sights and sometimes culinary specialities. The people are the same, the sounds in the street are the same and even the food is generally the same. Maybe because America is so vastly different that I expect something new from every Chinese city I go. Well, I guess that isn't entirely so. This city lacks foreigners so I am gawked at a lot more than usual. The last city we lived in last year had plenty of Lao wai (foreigners) so we weren't really anything too special there but here! I see so few and the ones I do see are usually much older than myself and my entourage. Mostly businessman and future investors, not so many teachers, which is great for me because it increases my worth :) Additionally, this go-round we have multiplied as Floridians. Apartment dwellers of E1905 consist of myself, Chris, Bradley, Caitlyn, and Mike. So when people see our Anglo-modsquad marching down the street decked out in orange and blue, I think we may be a little frightening. I imagine the people that live in our complex saying, "there goes the neighborhood..."

My goal is to blog atleast once a week but to write everyday, whether it be for my novel (that I WILL finish!) or just for myself. Atleast one hour of uninterrupted, writing me-time daily is required both for my sanity and to sharpen my skills. So Readers, thank you for your attention and dedication, I promise to work on mine. Interesting stuff to come!

Here is a map of China...
The blue circle is where I live now. Black circles are where I have lived before and the green circles are  the bigger cities I've been to. Still have lots to cover!

Looking through saved and incomplete drafts...

From sometime in January 2012...


Breakthrough. Robert has begun to speak English! Its amazing. I'm actually getting through to him. He hasn't been ignoring me this whole time. Just because he isn't mindlessly repeating me like many other students or interacting with me, he's still listening. Absorbing in silence. Is he onto something? Has he discovered a new technique to learning a new language. When we first started our 3 times a week sessions, I thought for sure he was autistic. When we weren't sword fighting or blowing each up with imaginary guns, he quietly played with blocks and listened to me talk.

Yesterday, he really opened up. We've been reading a book he really likes about robots. One picture in the book is of a mouse standing on a stool about to fall off. Robert pointed to it and said "be careful," a phrase I often say to him when he's doing something that makes me nervous.

I mean, why would this 4 year old child rather study than play? Why would he want to talk to this strange girl that shows up (usually late) to his house every other evening and asks him stupid questions?

Preparing for Reverse Culture Shock

Having traveled abroad previously has made this recent excursion "easier" than before. Perhaps knowing what to expect and the luxury of having a kitchen, has made this trip seem almost less like traveling and more like taking a step away from US life and into my alternate life that is China. What I call easier, apparently is defined by "reverse culture shock." I certainly experienced these symptoms last time I went home, and believe it is a more painful process than actual culture shock. Of course, being home with my family and friends is really nice and its great to catch up on all the lost time but after the initial stun of being home and hearing stories, you face a lull. Depression sets in, rebuilding your life is difficult, picking up is impossible; one must start from scratch. Last time I went home, I was also faced with several heavy situations, so I partly blame that and hope this time will be different. Also, its always a little embarrassing when you randomly speak Chinese to a sales clerk or waitress. Screaming "Fuyuan!" at the top of your lungs and waving your arm incessantly at your server, is not how you get your check, just dirty looks. Finding a job that will hire a 28 year old that has been out of work for 8 months is also a challenge. But I do not blog to gain sympathy, just to share. Preparing for these symptoms of depression; feelings of "what am I doing with my life" and the inevitable constipation (American food is so bonding!), I brace myself and go into American borders less blinded than before and more with the knowledge that this will happen and I'm not just a singled out mess. I go home with hope and the mind set of new beginnings. Although, I also think back to when I went home last time and remember how happy my grandma's were to see me. Nana in her hospice bed and slipping into delirium, remembered I told her I'd be home soon. And Grandma was so happy to me she cried! I will miss wandering home and into their arms, but I still have my mommy and my daddy! That will also probably cry upon my return. And of course Joey and Haley, who won't cry but will take me out drinking instead! Despite the dreaded reverse culture shock and all the things it brings, I can't wait to be with my family again, and of course, Millie!!