It wasn't easy saying goodbye to Stefan and his daughters when they left for Germany last week. "I'm gonna miss you guys," I told Stefan.
"We feel the same way about you, " he said.
After they left on Tuesday I had just two more nights to wrap up my affairs in Chiangmai--not that I had a lot on my plate, but there was some shopping to do, some food to eat, some TV to watch, and some visiting with Pik.
I also picked up a new friend, Yuriy from Perm, Russia, who is on his first trip to Thailand and this is only his second trip outside of Russia.
He's an IT guy ("I hate it!") who sold all his belongings in Moscow with the intention of "looking for myself" in Thailand.
I remarked that Thailand can be a good place to do that. "Or it can be a very bad place to do it if you're not careful." This observation cracked him up.
Yuriy wants to try to make a go of it in Chiangmai, maybe sign up for Thai courses so he can get a year-long student visa.
He seems like a decent guy, and he's a music fan, so I took him to Tiger Kingdom and introduced him to A and Sakhorn. Yuriry is very impressed with the bands, and especially with the excellent women singers.
I also helped him to find a "hong phak", a room for rent by the month. Within a day we got him set up with something suitable for 2500 baht monthly on a three month minimum lease.
Pik and I had a final dinner together on Wednesday night, then I met her and Yuriy again Thursday morning before I flew back to Bangkok that afternoon.
Of course Pik wants me to move back to Thailand. "We can help you get situated again," she says. She says this every time she sees me.
We've been talking about how to help Peppo get a tourist visa for the U.S., and on Wednesday I went to a specialty travel agency that handles most visa situations for Thais and farang. The travel agent was very helpful with the info, and I wrote it all down and gave Pik a copy so we can begin strategizing.
Pik and I hope that maybe we can sponsor Peppo for a U.S. visit in 2015.
It's sort of sad to be leaving, but I also feel it's about time to get out of Chiangmai--I was getting way too comfortable there.
By late Thursday I was checked into the S1 Hostel on Soi Ngam Dupli off Bangkok's busy Rama 4 Road. The S1 Hostel is a nicely renovated hotel which used to be my regular first stop in Bangkok back when it was called "Honey House".
I was happy with the renovations and with the fact that the price--at 700 baht for an aircon room with bathroom, fridge, and TV--is only 100 baht more than it was in 2007. This is really a bargain for only $22. Does anyone really wonder why I love Thailand?
I've said goodbye to old friends in Chiangmai, but now I'm saying hello to old friends--from the States--in Bangkok.
Sharon is a friend from the old-time music scene in America. As an ethno-musicologist and professor in the field, she has studied--among other things--the contest scene at the National Old-Time Fiddlers Contest in Weiser, ID that I attended each year from 2002 to 2005. This is where we first met, and I still have a copy of her dissertation on the subject.
But what a small world it is! She's also done some extensive study of Thai classical and folk music, and she knows a lot more than I ever will about the instruments they play in Thailand and in other musically influential Asian countries such as China. Indeed, one of her mentors is an expert on Thai music, and he keeps his second home here.
In the most serendipitous manner possible, Sharon's husband Michael--an engineer of state of the art packing machinery--was offered a two-year contract with Bangkok company, and Sharon's summer visit to him coincided with my own trip to Thailand.
We've agreed to meet at the McDonald's at Rama 4 and Silom to do some tourist stuff and maybe take in a museum.
After all, she and I both are supposedly on vacation--even if work from home seems to intrude upon us in that way that it seems to do . . .
Saturday, June 28, 2014
That Old Visa Run
I had to do a "visa run" to Mae Sai on the Thai-Myanmar border to extend my stay in Thailand sufficiently.
Ah! The visa run. . .so definitive of the expat experience in Thailand.
I've had every type of "easy access" visa that Thailand offers: the ordinary two-month tourist visa, the three-month non-immigrant visa, the six-month double entry visa, the six-month double entry with work permit visa, and the 15-day visa on arrival at Bangkok's airports.
Now the Thais give 30 days on arrival for citizens of about 25-30 countries including the U.S.
In Thailand, you need a visa to stay for longer periods of time. And if you want to stay even longer, you have to do a visa run.
I've done every type of visa run imaginable: I've run to Penang, Malaysia too numerous times to count; I've run to Vientiane, Laos probably at least five times; I've also entered Laos from the north, not too far from Chiangmai, and taken the slow boat down the Mekong River to the ancient Lao capital Luang Prabang; and I've even used a dodgy service that sent my passport to a northern Thai border post with Laos and arranged all the visas and stamps--in other words did all the paperwork--while my person continued to stay and work in Chiangmai.
The latter service was definitely some type of corrupt enterprise endorsed by fairly high Thai/Lao police commanders--the equivalent of regional chiefs rank.
I've extended my stays at the Chiangmai Immigration office, at the Bangkok Immigration office, and at the Mae Sai Immigration office. These types of extensions are very limited--only 5-10 days or so--and they cost money in the range of 500 to 2000 baht.
I've also overstayed my visa, but you can never do too much of that; the fine for each day of overstay used to be 100 baht (four dollars back then, three dollars now), but now it's a steep 500 baht per day. This is what they will charge you at the Bangkok airport whenever you finally leave the country. And if you can't pay the fine, you will be detained and held in an immigration police lock-up--with 150-200 mostly Burmese and Cambodian illegals--until you can do so.
I've also done the run to Mae Sai--the northern-most point in Thailand, about 1000 km north of Bangkok--probably at least half a dozen times that I can remember now.
When Burma (Myanmar) started cautiously opening up in the early 2000s, they allowed farang tourists to visit the border town Tachilek, just opposite Mae Sai, on a day pass only. I remember the whole process being exceedingly tedious with one official checking the passport, another taking your photograph, another collecting the 500 baht fee (though they preferred to be paid in dollars), and yet another stamping the passport and handing over a receipt.
Now the Burmese have really got their act together with the streamlining: just two officials collect the 500, stamp the passport in and out, and you can even have the option of overnighting in Tachilek.
I couldn't take advantage of this welcome hospitality because I was on a day-long mini-bus run from Chiangmai and back again the same day. For 550 baht I booked a place on the 14-seat van with maybe half a dozen other farang from England, Holland, Australia, and the U.S. The service picks you up at your hotel at around 7.00 a.m., departs Chiangmai at 8.00 for the four hour trip through Chiangrai to Mae Sai, and returns you to your hotel at about 5.00 p.m.
In Mae Sai we had just an hour to stamp out of Thailand, stamp into Myanmar, and stamp back into Thailand. I expected, and received, an additional 30 days. But there were other people on my run who received only 15 days for any number of reasons.
The word in the expat community lately is the Thais are cracking down on people who do the visa run too often. They are tightening visa requirements for some people while trying to ensure that long-staying farang aren't doing so as a tourist--because that would be illegal.
But I hear the Thais are also tightening up on the non-immigrant type visa requirements. More than ever, the Thai government seems to prefer farang who have bigger money--one or two million baht--to invest in a Thai business before they will approve one of the more coveted visas.
The next best option is to marry and have children with a Thai.
Ah! The visa run. . .so definitive of the expat experience in Thailand.
I've had every type of "easy access" visa that Thailand offers: the ordinary two-month tourist visa, the three-month non-immigrant visa, the six-month double entry visa, the six-month double entry with work permit visa, and the 15-day visa on arrival at Bangkok's airports.
Now the Thais give 30 days on arrival for citizens of about 25-30 countries including the U.S.
In Thailand, you need a visa to stay for longer periods of time. And if you want to stay even longer, you have to do a visa run.
I've done every type of visa run imaginable: I've run to Penang, Malaysia too numerous times to count; I've run to Vientiane, Laos probably at least five times; I've also entered Laos from the north, not too far from Chiangmai, and taken the slow boat down the Mekong River to the ancient Lao capital Luang Prabang; and I've even used a dodgy service that sent my passport to a northern Thai border post with Laos and arranged all the visas and stamps--in other words did all the paperwork--while my person continued to stay and work in Chiangmai.
The latter service was definitely some type of corrupt enterprise endorsed by fairly high Thai/Lao police commanders--the equivalent of regional chiefs rank.
I've extended my stays at the Chiangmai Immigration office, at the Bangkok Immigration office, and at the Mae Sai Immigration office. These types of extensions are very limited--only 5-10 days or so--and they cost money in the range of 500 to 2000 baht.
I've also overstayed my visa, but you can never do too much of that; the fine for each day of overstay used to be 100 baht (four dollars back then, three dollars now), but now it's a steep 500 baht per day. This is what they will charge you at the Bangkok airport whenever you finally leave the country. And if you can't pay the fine, you will be detained and held in an immigration police lock-up--with 150-200 mostly Burmese and Cambodian illegals--until you can do so.
I've also done the run to Mae Sai--the northern-most point in Thailand, about 1000 km north of Bangkok--probably at least half a dozen times that I can remember now.
When Burma (Myanmar) started cautiously opening up in the early 2000s, they allowed farang tourists to visit the border town Tachilek, just opposite Mae Sai, on a day pass only. I remember the whole process being exceedingly tedious with one official checking the passport, another taking your photograph, another collecting the 500 baht fee (though they preferred to be paid in dollars), and yet another stamping the passport and handing over a receipt.
Now the Burmese have really got their act together with the streamlining: just two officials collect the 500, stamp the passport in and out, and you can even have the option of overnighting in Tachilek.
I couldn't take advantage of this welcome hospitality because I was on a day-long mini-bus run from Chiangmai and back again the same day. For 550 baht I booked a place on the 14-seat van with maybe half a dozen other farang from England, Holland, Australia, and the U.S. The service picks you up at your hotel at around 7.00 a.m., departs Chiangmai at 8.00 for the four hour trip through Chiangrai to Mae Sai, and returns you to your hotel at about 5.00 p.m.
In Mae Sai we had just an hour to stamp out of Thailand, stamp into Myanmar, and stamp back into Thailand. I expected, and received, an additional 30 days. But there were other people on my run who received only 15 days for any number of reasons.
The word in the expat community lately is the Thais are cracking down on people who do the visa run too often. They are tightening visa requirements for some people while trying to ensure that long-staying farang aren't doing so as a tourist--because that would be illegal.
But I hear the Thais are also tightening up on the non-immigrant type visa requirements. More than ever, the Thai government seems to prefer farang who have bigger money--one or two million baht--to invest in a Thai business before they will approve one of the more coveted visas.
The next best option is to marry and have children with a Thai.
Friday, June 27, 2014
World Cup Fever
From his sister's home in Germany, Stefan will be able to watch the Fifa World Cup final group G match between powerful Germany versus up and coming United States as both teams would appear to make it to the next round of 16.
In their first group match, the U.S. beat Ghana in a vengeance match as payback for the latter's rousting of the Americans at the 2010 event in South Africa, and the Americans came very close to besting Cristiano Ronaldo's Portugal side last Monday (Tuesday morning at 5.00 a.m. Thai time).
I was able to watch most of that match while readying myself for a visa run to the Thai-Burmese border. The American side at first were unable to answer the early goal by Portugal's Nani as the match broke for halftime. But American midfielder Jermaine Jones evened things up with a goal in the 64th minute.
In the 84th minute, forward Clint Dempsey put the U.S. ahead with a beautiful goal that had me screaming at my TV at 6.40 a.m. I thought, all you guys have to do is hold on for this victory!
Unfortunately, I was screaming again 11 minutes later when, in the 90th minute plus 5 minutes injury time, Silvester Varela evened the score 2-2, barely a minute before the referee whistled the match to a close. It was quite a disappointing end to a match that featured a very strong American team.
There have been surprises galore in this year's World Cup finals as some of the "beautiful game's" biggest contenders have been eliminated from the tournament, including former world champions Spain, Italy's famed Azzuri, and now Portugal as well.
Poor England, a perpetual also-ran since it won the World Cup final it hosted in 1966, was shut out of the final 16 with a miserable draw and two losses in group D.
Meanwhile, some of the "minnows" of the sport have delivered major happiness to their supporters with their stunning upsets and ferociously determined play. These teams include Costa Rica at the top of group D, Chile second in group B, Algeria also in second in group H, and Greece in second in group C.
Colombian fans are thrilled to see their team topping group C with their best World Cup performance in history.
And Uruguay surprised some with their second place in group D as they eliminated Italy in their final group match. Unfortunately the celebration was marred by Luis Suarez's biting of Giorgio Chiellini's left shoulder. It was the third biting incident in Suarez's checkered career, and Fifa has banned him for four months which means he will miss Uruguay's next nine games.
All this--the thrilling matches, the heartbreak, the controversy--is personally reminiscent of the
2010 World Cup which I was able to watch during my seven week tour of Central America in June and July of that year.
And I am reminded also of my experience in 1994 when the United States hosted the World Cup for the first time.
At that time I was living and working in Bangkok, and often I would stay up late--at times until 3.00 or 5.00 a.m.--and go out to watch the matches at the Malaysia Hotel, near my room in the Soi Ngam Dupli neighborhood.
I discovered then that I enjoy watching this level of "soccer" play, even though I was never a huge sports fan. There is something really compelling about the World Cup. It's similar to the excitement generated by the Olympics, but I think it's more exciting than the Olympics, and I'm not sure I can explain why.
In 1994 I was proud, too, to see the U.S. make such a good international impression with its outstanding hosting of the event. That year, the world famous Brazilians came out on top against Roberto Baggio's Italy in an overtime penalty shootout.
This year, the Brazilians are the hosts and they are also the favorites to win their sixth World Cup.
I'm just thrilled to see the U.S. make the top 16 with Germany in their group G. Can the Americans advance to the next round?
In their first group match, the U.S. beat Ghana in a vengeance match as payback for the latter's rousting of the Americans at the 2010 event in South Africa, and the Americans came very close to besting Cristiano Ronaldo's Portugal side last Monday (Tuesday morning at 5.00 a.m. Thai time).
I was able to watch most of that match while readying myself for a visa run to the Thai-Burmese border. The American side at first were unable to answer the early goal by Portugal's Nani as the match broke for halftime. But American midfielder Jermaine Jones evened things up with a goal in the 64th minute.
In the 84th minute, forward Clint Dempsey put the U.S. ahead with a beautiful goal that had me screaming at my TV at 6.40 a.m. I thought, all you guys have to do is hold on for this victory!
Unfortunately, I was screaming again 11 minutes later when, in the 90th minute plus 5 minutes injury time, Silvester Varela evened the score 2-2, barely a minute before the referee whistled the match to a close. It was quite a disappointing end to a match that featured a very strong American team.
There have been surprises galore in this year's World Cup finals as some of the "beautiful game's" biggest contenders have been eliminated from the tournament, including former world champions Spain, Italy's famed Azzuri, and now Portugal as well.
Poor England, a perpetual also-ran since it won the World Cup final it hosted in 1966, was shut out of the final 16 with a miserable draw and two losses in group D.
Meanwhile, some of the "minnows" of the sport have delivered major happiness to their supporters with their stunning upsets and ferociously determined play. These teams include Costa Rica at the top of group D, Chile second in group B, Algeria also in second in group H, and Greece in second in group C.
Colombian fans are thrilled to see their team topping group C with their best World Cup performance in history.
And Uruguay surprised some with their second place in group D as they eliminated Italy in their final group match. Unfortunately the celebration was marred by Luis Suarez's biting of Giorgio Chiellini's left shoulder. It was the third biting incident in Suarez's checkered career, and Fifa has banned him for four months which means he will miss Uruguay's next nine games.
All this--the thrilling matches, the heartbreak, the controversy--is personally reminiscent of the
2010 World Cup which I was able to watch during my seven week tour of Central America in June and July of that year.
And I am reminded also of my experience in 1994 when the United States hosted the World Cup for the first time.
At that time I was living and working in Bangkok, and often I would stay up late--at times until 3.00 or 5.00 a.m.--and go out to watch the matches at the Malaysia Hotel, near my room in the Soi Ngam Dupli neighborhood.
I discovered then that I enjoy watching this level of "soccer" play, even though I was never a huge sports fan. There is something really compelling about the World Cup. It's similar to the excitement generated by the Olympics, but I think it's more exciting than the Olympics, and I'm not sure I can explain why.
In 1994 I was proud, too, to see the U.S. make such a good international impression with its outstanding hosting of the event. That year, the world famous Brazilians came out on top against Roberto Baggio's Italy in an overtime penalty shootout.
This year, the Brazilians are the hosts and they are also the favorites to win their sixth World Cup.
I'm just thrilled to see the U.S. make the top 16 with Germany in their group G. Can the Americans advance to the next round?
Miriram and Her Violin
Pik and Stefan have raised their kids to study some music. Peppo and Miriam both have some experience with the violin and Tara has become quite accomplished on the piano. Her parents invested an enormous sum of money for a very good second hand Yamaha upright.
Most of the kids and Pik can play some guitar and there are two decent ones at hand.
Miriam has a suitable full size violin, but her bow is in terrible condition.
It's a cheap wooden stick with long-worn out hair, and I tell Pik it would be better to buy a new one since it would be cheaper than a rehair unless she can find someone who works with the saw duang or saw u (Thai fiddles) who can probably rehair a conventional bow for cheap.
I considered buying Miriam a replacement bow but the problem is she's never really had a steady teacher so she remains rather unmotivated. Occasionally she will tool around with the instrument, reading from Suzuki book 1 and other materials (all the kids can read music).
I've identified a couple key areas which might help Miriam if she wants to spend half an hour with me. I leave it up to her.
Meanwhile, the family is readying for the big trip to Germany. It's Stefan's first trip "home" in six years, and it's Tara's second trip to Germany. She will stay with Stefan's sister and mother and attend school for one year.
This is Miriam's first trip abroad. (Casper made his first trip to Germany with Tara and Stefan six years ago.) She really doesn't want to go.
"She complains almost daily about having to do this, " Stefan says. "She doesn't want to miss any school here with her friends. But I tell her it will be good for her to see something different (apart from Thailand), and anyway it's only for two weeks."
Stefan himself is ambivalent about the trip. In his 20 years in Thailand, this will be only his second trip to the country of his birth. He knows from experience that that makes him an oddity there.
"I'm not even sure how to talk to people there; here I never speak German, only English or Thai all the time. When I go home it takes a real effort for me to process what people are saying and asking me, and it's a headache for me to make sure I reply in proper German."
Three hours before Stefan and the girls are due to depart for Chiangmai Airport, Miriam finally takes me up on my offer. I use the A part of Khang Khao Kin Kluay (Bats Eating Bananas), an old Thai favorite, to help her with first finger anchoring, standing up straight, and learning from "listen and play" since she's fallen into the trap of only using notated music whenever she plays.
By the end of the half hour she is drilling one of the tricky bits. "This is what she needs to do, " I remark to Stefan.
"She's never worked like that before, " he says.
"Really she needs a teacher, " I say, and we agree that I shouldn't invest any money into a new bow until it becomes clear that she might want to continue with it.
"I would really like for her to do this, but she's at an age where it has to come from her, otherwise it's as if I'm forcing her, " he says.
Most of the kids and Pik can play some guitar and there are two decent ones at hand.
Miriam has a suitable full size violin, but her bow is in terrible condition.
It's a cheap wooden stick with long-worn out hair, and I tell Pik it would be better to buy a new one since it would be cheaper than a rehair unless she can find someone who works with the saw duang or saw u (Thai fiddles) who can probably rehair a conventional bow for cheap.
I considered buying Miriam a replacement bow but the problem is she's never really had a steady teacher so she remains rather unmotivated. Occasionally she will tool around with the instrument, reading from Suzuki book 1 and other materials (all the kids can read music).
I've identified a couple key areas which might help Miriam if she wants to spend half an hour with me. I leave it up to her.
Meanwhile, the family is readying for the big trip to Germany. It's Stefan's first trip "home" in six years, and it's Tara's second trip to Germany. She will stay with Stefan's sister and mother and attend school for one year.
This is Miriam's first trip abroad. (Casper made his first trip to Germany with Tara and Stefan six years ago.) She really doesn't want to go.
"She complains almost daily about having to do this, " Stefan says. "She doesn't want to miss any school here with her friends. But I tell her it will be good for her to see something different (apart from Thailand), and anyway it's only for two weeks."
Stefan himself is ambivalent about the trip. In his 20 years in Thailand, this will be only his second trip to the country of his birth. He knows from experience that that makes him an oddity there.
"I'm not even sure how to talk to people there; here I never speak German, only English or Thai all the time. When I go home it takes a real effort for me to process what people are saying and asking me, and it's a headache for me to make sure I reply in proper German."
Three hours before Stefan and the girls are due to depart for Chiangmai Airport, Miriam finally takes me up on my offer. I use the A part of Khang Khao Kin Kluay (Bats Eating Bananas), an old Thai favorite, to help her with first finger anchoring, standing up straight, and learning from "listen and play" since she's fallen into the trap of only using notated music whenever she plays.
By the end of the half hour she is drilling one of the tricky bits. "This is what she needs to do, " I remark to Stefan.
"She's never worked like that before, " he says.
"Really she needs a teacher, " I say, and we agree that I shouldn't invest any money into a new bow until it becomes clear that she might want to continue with it.
"I would really like for her to do this, but she's at an age where it has to come from her, otherwise it's as if I'm forcing her, " he says.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Thailand Story
From about 1985-1989, when I lived in
New York, I spent most of my springs and summers hanging out in the
international busking scene in Europe. From Paris and Zurich, I
would join various bands forming up to play the summer season on the
circuit. The money was actually quite good back then--good
enough to fly to London or Paris 2-3 times a year.
One of my friends, a Dutch one-man band named Thomas van Nes, had relocated to Chiangmai and fallen in love with Thailand and with a young Thai woman. He later married her and they had two sons, now grown.
The band I was playing with at the time, the Rhythm Pygmies, bumped into Thomas in Switzerland during the summer of '89, and he urged us to pay him a visit. The four of us in the band--me, my running buddy Marc from New York on guitar; Gilles,a Canadian bassist; and Christian, a French-Spanish gypsy singer/guitarist; took Thomas up on his invitation just a few days before the Berlin Wall fell in November of '89.
One thing led to another and we started getting gigs in Chiangmai, so we decided to stay indefinitely, or at least for the winter. In the end, the Rhythm Pygmies celebrated its swan song with a lengthy run in Bangkok's Brown Sugar jazz club in May of 1990, and then we split up more or less permanently with Marc and me staying in Thailand while Gilles and Christian returned to Europe.
Marc and I found ourselves hooked on the Thai people, the food, the culture, and the ease of getting paid gigs in Chiangmai. Marc later married a Thai citizen, Pik, and eventually they had a daughter, Peppo.
One of my friends, a Dutch one-man band named Thomas van Nes, had relocated to Chiangmai and fallen in love with Thailand and with a young Thai woman. He later married her and they had two sons, now grown.
The band I was playing with at the time, the Rhythm Pygmies, bumped into Thomas in Switzerland during the summer of '89, and he urged us to pay him a visit. The four of us in the band--me, my running buddy Marc from New York on guitar; Gilles,a Canadian bassist; and Christian, a French-Spanish gypsy singer/guitarist; took Thomas up on his invitation just a few days before the Berlin Wall fell in November of '89.
One thing led to another and we started getting gigs in Chiangmai, so we decided to stay indefinitely, or at least for the winter. In the end, the Rhythm Pygmies celebrated its swan song with a lengthy run in Bangkok's Brown Sugar jazz club in May of 1990, and then we split up more or less permanently with Marc and me staying in Thailand while Gilles and Christian returned to Europe.
Marc and I found ourselves hooked on the Thai people, the food, the culture, and the ease of getting paid gigs in Chiangmai. Marc later married a Thai citizen, Pik, and eventually they had a daughter, Peppo.
Long story short, Marc and I
eventually went our separate ways and I joined a Thai country band,
Banjoman and Friends, whose members were mostly from Phrae province.
We enjoyed a very well-paid run at Chiangmai's Mae Ping Hotel, and
this led to other gigs including private engagements in Thailand's
"Hi-So" scene: Army and police generals (including a
former prime minister and leader of the 1991 coup that ousted
Chatichai Choonhaven), aristocracy including the King and Queen, and
other various and assorted rich and powerful figures.
This experience--roughly from 1992
through 1998--culminated with several Banjoman recording sessions and CDs and
at least one appearance that I recall on national television. So I was
fortunate enough to be hooked up with Thai musicians who were sort of
C- or D-list famous. But these led to other gigs for me with a
few A-list people including Ad Carabao and Nga Caravan.
Perhaps most importantly, all this was happening as Thailand was in the midst of an economic boom which ended only with the so-called Asian currency crisis in July 1997. In other words, Thailand in the mid-'90s was the right place and the right time for me.
Along the way I also met a Thai woman, and we ended up together for about three years--no children--and it was from her that I learned the bulk of my Thai language skills. Meanwhile, my colleagues in the Banjoman group were the ones who introduced me to phlaeng luk-thung and Thai classical music. Banjoman ultimately disbanded in '98 but since then there have been many imitators in Chiangmai and Bangkok--indeed, probably in every major city in Thailand.
Perhaps most importantly, all this was happening as Thailand was in the midst of an economic boom which ended only with the so-called Asian currency crisis in July 1997. In other words, Thailand in the mid-'90s was the right place and the right time for me.
Along the way I also met a Thai woman, and we ended up together for about three years--no children--and it was from her that I learned the bulk of my Thai language skills. Meanwhile, my colleagues in the Banjoman group were the ones who introduced me to phlaeng luk-thung and Thai classical music. Banjoman ultimately disbanded in '98 but since then there have been many imitators in Chiangmai and Bangkok--indeed, probably in every major city in Thailand.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Junta Ends Curfew Just As Niece Arrives for a Visit
Bangkok's military rulers earlier this week eased curfew restrictions in several provinces, including Mae Hong Son, but left the midnight-4 a.m. restriction in the capital, in Chiangmai, and several other areas.
However, in a surprise move, the junta finally scrapped the curfew in all remaining areas effective last night (Friday June 13).
The move comes just in time for the second day of Fifa's World Cup in Brazil. Thais are pretty crazy for football and will watch as many broadcast matches as possible, but many of the live broadcasts will be late at night. Last night there were three matches at 10 p.m., 1 a.m., and 4 a.m.
Businesses with big screen HD and plenty of food and drink are expected, as usual, to cash in on the biggest sports event in the world apart from the Olympics.
While the curfew hasn't really cramped my own earlier-to-bed-at-this-age lifestyle, most Thais and farang are sure to welcome the news. This morning I overheard some Thais talking about how they'd gone out partying in the wee hours. In fact, they were only just returning home, at 10.30 a.m., to get some sleep.
Meanwhile, I had just slept through the entire canceled curfew following a somewhat difficult motorbike journey yesterday from Pai to Chiangmai. While I made excellent time in the first hour of my trip, once I passed the provincial border, I started getting hit by intermittent rain. In fact, the rain forced me to stop half a dozen times in the last 80 km (50 miles) of the trip. It took me about five hours to cover the entire 80 mile journey.
So I was fairly pleased to be back in Chiangmai today, and thrilled to find out that my Thai "niece" Pepo, daughter of my friend Marc, has arrived for a three-day weekend with her family. Pepo looks great and seems very happy and content with life. She was bubbling with enthusiasm about things in general, and she filled me a bit about her PR job with the Bangkok film company.
Her entry level salary is okay, but she also gets paid for overtime. The catch, however, is that she has to put in a lot of overtime. In fact, it seems as if she's expected to put in 16 hour days--everyday.
On the bright side her weekends are free, and she has friends to hang out with as she begins to settle into the work life routine.
This morning I ate northern style food (with sticky rice) with Pepo and her sister Miriam. This kind of food isn't for everybody (for many farang it involves acquiring a taste), but for northern Thais it is an integral part of their culture and home life.
I asked Pepo if she misses northern food in Bangkok. "For sure!" she said, adding that she's far too busy with work to seek out the cuisine in the capital.
However, in a surprise move, the junta finally scrapped the curfew in all remaining areas effective last night (Friday June 13).
The move comes just in time for the second day of Fifa's World Cup in Brazil. Thais are pretty crazy for football and will watch as many broadcast matches as possible, but many of the live broadcasts will be late at night. Last night there were three matches at 10 p.m., 1 a.m., and 4 a.m.
Businesses with big screen HD and plenty of food and drink are expected, as usual, to cash in on the biggest sports event in the world apart from the Olympics.
While the curfew hasn't really cramped my own earlier-to-bed-at-this-age lifestyle, most Thais and farang are sure to welcome the news. This morning I overheard some Thais talking about how they'd gone out partying in the wee hours. In fact, they were only just returning home, at 10.30 a.m., to get some sleep.
Meanwhile, I had just slept through the entire canceled curfew following a somewhat difficult motorbike journey yesterday from Pai to Chiangmai. While I made excellent time in the first hour of my trip, once I passed the provincial border, I started getting hit by intermittent rain. In fact, the rain forced me to stop half a dozen times in the last 80 km (50 miles) of the trip. It took me about five hours to cover the entire 80 mile journey.
So I was fairly pleased to be back in Chiangmai today, and thrilled to find out that my Thai "niece" Pepo, daughter of my friend Marc, has arrived for a three-day weekend with her family. Pepo looks great and seems very happy and content with life. She was bubbling with enthusiasm about things in general, and she filled me a bit about her PR job with the Bangkok film company.
Her entry level salary is okay, but she also gets paid for overtime. The catch, however, is that she has to put in a lot of overtime. In fact, it seems as if she's expected to put in 16 hour days--everyday.
On the bright side her weekends are free, and she has friends to hang out with as she begins to settle into the work life routine.
This morning I ate northern style food (with sticky rice) with Pepo and her sister Miriam. This kind of food isn't for everybody (for many farang it involves acquiring a taste), but for northern Thais it is an integral part of their culture and home life.
I asked Pepo if she misses northern food in Bangkok. "For sure!" she said, adding that she's far too busy with work to seek out the cuisine in the capital.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Cashing in on Pai
Stefan warned me that there has been a lot of new development in Pai, but I wasn't prepared to hear stories of prices doubling or even tripling during the high season.
Pai is the first major town on the road from Chiangmai once you've passed the border of Chiangmai and Mae Hong Son provinces.
Pai has long been a popular destination, especially with young backpackers and independent travelers, but for me it's usually been just a rest stop on the way to and from Soppong or Mae Hong Son town, the provincial capital.
I didn't have a clue where I was going to stay in a town that must have a couple hundred guesthouses, hotels, and resorts, but I knew I only wanted to spend 200-300 baht per night ($6-10). This seemed to be an easy enough mission since I'd already seen many signs offering "Rooms Starting At $300."
I was almost set to check out a place across the street from the Be Bop Bar when an older gentleman rolled up to me and my parked motorbike on his three-wheeled motorcycle and side car. We chatted for a bit, he wondering where I planned to stay, me lying at first that I'd already booked a room, so that I could get a better feel for him and his angle.
He revealed that he worked as a three-wheeled taxi driver and that he could direct me to good accommodations ("Just name your price and preferred type of room") for which he'd be able to claim a 5% commission from the owner. "I have this arrangement with many owners here in Pai," he explained. "If you like the room, I collect from them. It will cost you nothing directly."
I liked his manner, so I agreed to follow him to TaYai Guesthouse where the woman owner set me up with 200 baht room.
She and her husband are originally from Chiangmai, and they entered the guesthouse business in Pai only three years ago to escape the Bangkokization of their native city.
"The air is better here, it's nice and quiet, and there are no thieves. There are so many thieves in Chiangmai! Do you see all this stuff here?" she asked, referring to the kitschy ceramic animals and other tchotchkes decorating her very well-kept garden. "In Chiangmai, this stuff would be gone in one night."
I shared some of my story with her (used to live here for eight years, had a Thai girlfriend, how I learned Thai, played in a Thai country band) and remarked upon how affordable Thailand still is even after some of the most rapid economic development in Asia.
"Ha! Not anymore, at least not in Pai," she said. "If you visit during the high season (November through February), I would have to charge you much more than 200 baht. In fact most places here will charge at least 600 for the room you have, and that means no air conditioning.
"It's so busy here, with farang and Japanese and Chinese tourists, that most places are full. You have to reserve rooms in advance. Just the other day, someone reserved a room here six months in advance!"
This was all easy enough for me to understand: Pai is popular with a certain set (youthful, "alternative", neo-hippie, etc), there are only a certain number of rooms available, market forces dictate these prices, and so forth. And I'd (barely) come to accept that restaurant prices were about double from those of Chiangmai. But then my landlady dropped a real stunner.
"In the high season it gets so full that now they've opened up camping down by the river," she said. "One tent spot is 600 baht! Now they have hundreds of these camping spots, and still the tourists keep coming, Thai tourists, too. Everybody wants to come here, it seems like."
Even now, with the low season, the rainy season now in full swing, she seems to be doing okay. On the couple nights I've stayed here, she 's had at least 8-10 of her 15 or so rooms filled with farang, Thai, and other Asian customers.
Pai is the first major town on the road from Chiangmai once you've passed the border of Chiangmai and Mae Hong Son provinces.
Pai has long been a popular destination, especially with young backpackers and independent travelers, but for me it's usually been just a rest stop on the way to and from Soppong or Mae Hong Son town, the provincial capital.
I didn't have a clue where I was going to stay in a town that must have a couple hundred guesthouses, hotels, and resorts, but I knew I only wanted to spend 200-300 baht per night ($6-10). This seemed to be an easy enough mission since I'd already seen many signs offering "Rooms Starting At $300."
I was almost set to check out a place across the street from the Be Bop Bar when an older gentleman rolled up to me and my parked motorbike on his three-wheeled motorcycle and side car. We chatted for a bit, he wondering where I planned to stay, me lying at first that I'd already booked a room, so that I could get a better feel for him and his angle.
He revealed that he worked as a three-wheeled taxi driver and that he could direct me to good accommodations ("Just name your price and preferred type of room") for which he'd be able to claim a 5% commission from the owner. "I have this arrangement with many owners here in Pai," he explained. "If you like the room, I collect from them. It will cost you nothing directly."
I liked his manner, so I agreed to follow him to TaYai Guesthouse where the woman owner set me up with 200 baht room.
She and her husband are originally from Chiangmai, and they entered the guesthouse business in Pai only three years ago to escape the Bangkokization of their native city.
"The air is better here, it's nice and quiet, and there are no thieves. There are so many thieves in Chiangmai! Do you see all this stuff here?" she asked, referring to the kitschy ceramic animals and other tchotchkes decorating her very well-kept garden. "In Chiangmai, this stuff would be gone in one night."
I shared some of my story with her (used to live here for eight years, had a Thai girlfriend, how I learned Thai, played in a Thai country band) and remarked upon how affordable Thailand still is even after some of the most rapid economic development in Asia.
"Ha! Not anymore, at least not in Pai," she said. "If you visit during the high season (November through February), I would have to charge you much more than 200 baht. In fact most places here will charge at least 600 for the room you have, and that means no air conditioning.
"It's so busy here, with farang and Japanese and Chinese tourists, that most places are full. You have to reserve rooms in advance. Just the other day, someone reserved a room here six months in advance!"
This was all easy enough for me to understand: Pai is popular with a certain set (youthful, "alternative", neo-hippie, etc), there are only a certain number of rooms available, market forces dictate these prices, and so forth. And I'd (barely) come to accept that restaurant prices were about double from those of Chiangmai. But then my landlady dropped a real stunner.
"In the high season it gets so full that now they've opened up camping down by the river," she said. "One tent spot is 600 baht! Now they have hundreds of these camping spots, and still the tourists keep coming, Thai tourists, too. Everybody wants to come here, it seems like."
Even now, with the low season, the rainy season now in full swing, she seems to be doing okay. On the couple nights I've stayed here, she 's had at least 8-10 of her 15 or so rooms filled with farang, Thai, and other Asian customers.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Striking Development of Remote Areas in Northern Thailand
Today I write this from Amphoe Bang-ma Pha, Mae Hong Son Province, my favorite area of Thailand. Bang-ma Pha town (Soppong) is about 180 km northwest of Chiangmai but 4-5 hours by bus because of the mountainous roads.
I did the trip on motorbike, stopping in Pai (44 kilometers southeast of here) on Sunday to overnight, and I arrived here yesterday morning.
Whenever I think about visiting Thailand, this is where I ultimately want to be.
I first visited the area during Christmas of 1989. At that time, the roads from Soppong up to the caves at Tham Lot and Ban Mae Lanna were strictly dirt and quite treacherous even with 4WD. Electricity was by expensive gasoline-operated generator, but most people used candles and flashlights for light after sundown.
Now both those routes are paved all the way, and both villages have electricity on Thailand's grid.
I can't say that I had a front row seat to these developments, but I've visited here countless times over the years, so every new thing that's built--from government offices to schools to hospitals (all the things we take for granted in the west)--is quite memorable to me.
The iconic 7-11 convenience store, for me, rather defines and epitomizes the development of Thailand over the past couple decades since there wasn't even one such store in Thailand in the late 1980s.
Beginning roughly 20 years ago, the gigantic CP Group of Thailand started to open 7-11 stores in Bangkok and Chiangmai, Thailand's second-largest city. Before long, there was a branch or two, or more, in every town and city in the land. (There are at least four in tiny Pai alone.)
So I couldn't believe my eyes when I drove into Soppong village yesterday and saw that 7-11 has arrived here, too. My first thought? "Amphoe Bang-ma Pha has joined the world." My second thought? Hard to describe, but it was something of a mixture of sad and wistful.
Soppong has long moved past being the definitive one-horse town it was in the '90s. It's at least three or four "horses" and gaining more by the day.
There are more guesthouses than before, and some of them--like mine--are a little more upscale. There are many more coffee shops and restaurants, and where there used to be only two or three mom and pop stores selling all types of general goods, now I see perhaps twice that many.
To the best of my recollection, there were no shops selling brand-new motorbikes, even a decade ago. Now there are at least two.
And the building boom continues. I see a multi-story behemoth--probably shophouses--going up just 100 meters from my room.
With "development" of a relatively remote area come new types of problems. For example, now that it's the rainy season, the late afternoon rains that come like clockwork every day also bring high winds that cause trees or mountain debris to fall on power lines, bringing temporary electric outages just at the time of day when demand is highest. This happened both nights I spent in Soppong, so people still rely on candles and generators.
The owner of my resort told me that in the old days when the power went out, the electric company didn't care too much about getting things up and running again quickly because "there wasn't so much development as now and not nearly as many customers as now."
But with the growth of Soppong over the last 10-15 years, more people demand that the work crews get out there and restore power as soon as possible.
The 3-4 outages I witnessed over two nights lasted from about 15 minutes to as much as 90 minutes or so. My first night here I saw one of the work crews working almost right outside my door.
Yesterday I saw a very large crew, perhaps two dozen strong with five or six trucks, working on a stretch of downed power lines about five miles west of Soppong.
While development has undoubtedly brought numerous benefits to the mostly hilltribe peoples who live here, I can't help but feel--from my privileged farang perch--that part of the charm of this place was that it presented certain challenges, that it took some gumption to get here and a certain resilience to stay.
How strange to feel so ambivalent about development! The locals benefit a lot, of course, but how much will they lose in the long term? Farang who have seen post-Communist economic wreckage, post-manufacturing "rust belts" in the West, and a massive Chinese economic powerhouse becoming one of the world's major-league polluters may be right to ask such questions.
But do we have the right to demand that China clean up its act, or that certain developing countries forgo certain kinds of developments?
I think the best we can do is try to set an example to the world with careful, sustainable development models that developing countries can eventually emulate.
I did the trip on motorbike, stopping in Pai (44 kilometers southeast of here) on Sunday to overnight, and I arrived here yesterday morning.
Whenever I think about visiting Thailand, this is where I ultimately want to be.
I first visited the area during Christmas of 1989. At that time, the roads from Soppong up to the caves at Tham Lot and Ban Mae Lanna were strictly dirt and quite treacherous even with 4WD. Electricity was by expensive gasoline-operated generator, but most people used candles and flashlights for light after sundown.
Now both those routes are paved all the way, and both villages have electricity on Thailand's grid.
I can't say that I had a front row seat to these developments, but I've visited here countless times over the years, so every new thing that's built--from government offices to schools to hospitals (all the things we take for granted in the west)--is quite memorable to me.
The iconic 7-11 convenience store, for me, rather defines and epitomizes the development of Thailand over the past couple decades since there wasn't even one such store in Thailand in the late 1980s.
Beginning roughly 20 years ago, the gigantic CP Group of Thailand started to open 7-11 stores in Bangkok and Chiangmai, Thailand's second-largest city. Before long, there was a branch or two, or more, in every town and city in the land. (There are at least four in tiny Pai alone.)
So I couldn't believe my eyes when I drove into Soppong village yesterday and saw that 7-11 has arrived here, too. My first thought? "Amphoe Bang-ma Pha has joined the world." My second thought? Hard to describe, but it was something of a mixture of sad and wistful.
Soppong has long moved past being the definitive one-horse town it was in the '90s. It's at least three or four "horses" and gaining more by the day.
There are more guesthouses than before, and some of them--like mine--are a little more upscale. There are many more coffee shops and restaurants, and where there used to be only two or three mom and pop stores selling all types of general goods, now I see perhaps twice that many.
To the best of my recollection, there were no shops selling brand-new motorbikes, even a decade ago. Now there are at least two.
And the building boom continues. I see a multi-story behemoth--probably shophouses--going up just 100 meters from my room.
With "development" of a relatively remote area come new types of problems. For example, now that it's the rainy season, the late afternoon rains that come like clockwork every day also bring high winds that cause trees or mountain debris to fall on power lines, bringing temporary electric outages just at the time of day when demand is highest. This happened both nights I spent in Soppong, so people still rely on candles and generators.
The owner of my resort told me that in the old days when the power went out, the electric company didn't care too much about getting things up and running again quickly because "there wasn't so much development as now and not nearly as many customers as now."
But with the growth of Soppong over the last 10-15 years, more people demand that the work crews get out there and restore power as soon as possible.
The 3-4 outages I witnessed over two nights lasted from about 15 minutes to as much as 90 minutes or so. My first night here I saw one of the work crews working almost right outside my door.
Yesterday I saw a very large crew, perhaps two dozen strong with five or six trucks, working on a stretch of downed power lines about five miles west of Soppong.
While development has undoubtedly brought numerous benefits to the mostly hilltribe peoples who live here, I can't help but feel--from my privileged farang perch--that part of the charm of this place was that it presented certain challenges, that it took some gumption to get here and a certain resilience to stay.
How strange to feel so ambivalent about development! The locals benefit a lot, of course, but how much will they lose in the long term? Farang who have seen post-Communist economic wreckage, post-manufacturing "rust belts" in the West, and a massive Chinese economic powerhouse becoming one of the world's major-league polluters may be right to ask such questions.
But do we have the right to demand that China clean up its act, or that certain developing countries forgo certain kinds of developments?
I think the best we can do is try to set an example to the world with careful, sustainable development models that developing countries can eventually emulate.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Phrae Boys at the Tiger Kingdom
Tuk and Pik both sent me to Tiger Kingdom in Town, part of the larger Tiger Kingdom franchise.
"You will find the Phrae boys there, " Tuk said.
The "Phrae boys"--from Phrae province--are some of the guys I used to play with in the Banjoman Band during the early 1990s.
Sure enough, I found A, another one of my oldest friends here, leading a group of much younger players which included a fantastic young female singer who sang with such energy and enthusiasm, I was completely mesmerized.
A didn't recognize me at first, but when he did it was all hugs and laughter.
A started out as a founding member of the old Chiangmai Beatles cover band at the Riverside and he became a much sought after bassist. Much more than a bassist, however, he can play just about any stringed instrument on the map. Over the years he followed his heart through many musical incarnations and traveled widely in Thailand, Laos, and Vietnam.
More recently he returned to Chiangmai to teach and help develop new local talent.
I was so impressed with his group, called Ba-leng Phlaeng, that I felt he's done much more than mentor the next generation. He's actually developing the music itself, bringing the Chiamngmai restaurant/pub music scene to a newer and exciting level.
Lek "Mandolin" was also nearby last night. Another crucial player in the Banjoman group, he's a thoughtful, quiet man who has facial features similar to the Native American. Like A, he was very surprised to see me. We talked about some of our mutual friends including Sakhorn "Mr Action" ("Wait a little bit, he'll be here soon," said Lek), Moo "Bass" (retired from his public school teaching job and now building and repairing guitars), Prasat (leader of Banjoman--still living in Phrae with his wife and now teenage son), and others.
Perhaps the most joyful encounter for me was with Sakhorn--Mr Action himself--whose jaw seemingly dropped to floor when he saw me there. Hugs! In Thailand! Where they really don't do that sort of thing!
He and I had a chance to chat for about half an hour. He was the oldest player in Banjoman (about eight years older than me), and he really looked great and seemed to be doing well. His job last night was to play and sing solo the last set of the night before curfew.
Everywhere in Chiangmai I've been so far owners/proprietors are complaining about the slow, low season and the bad effect of the military's curfew on business.
But Tiger Kingdom was nearly full of customers enjoying fine food and drink and exciting new music, and I was happy to be part of that crowd.
"You will find the Phrae boys there, " Tuk said.
The "Phrae boys"--from Phrae province--are some of the guys I used to play with in the Banjoman Band during the early 1990s.
Sure enough, I found A, another one of my oldest friends here, leading a group of much younger players which included a fantastic young female singer who sang with such energy and enthusiasm, I was completely mesmerized.
A didn't recognize me at first, but when he did it was all hugs and laughter.
A started out as a founding member of the old Chiangmai Beatles cover band at the Riverside and he became a much sought after bassist. Much more than a bassist, however, he can play just about any stringed instrument on the map. Over the years he followed his heart through many musical incarnations and traveled widely in Thailand, Laos, and Vietnam.
More recently he returned to Chiangmai to teach and help develop new local talent.
I was so impressed with his group, called Ba-leng Phlaeng, that I felt he's done much more than mentor the next generation. He's actually developing the music itself, bringing the Chiamngmai restaurant/pub music scene to a newer and exciting level.
Lek "Mandolin" was also nearby last night. Another crucial player in the Banjoman group, he's a thoughtful, quiet man who has facial features similar to the Native American. Like A, he was very surprised to see me. We talked about some of our mutual friends including Sakhorn "Mr Action" ("Wait a little bit, he'll be here soon," said Lek), Moo "Bass" (retired from his public school teaching job and now building and repairing guitars), Prasat (leader of Banjoman--still living in Phrae with his wife and now teenage son), and others.
Perhaps the most joyful encounter for me was with Sakhorn--Mr Action himself--whose jaw seemingly dropped to floor when he saw me there. Hugs! In Thailand! Where they really don't do that sort of thing!
He and I had a chance to chat for about half an hour. He was the oldest player in Banjoman (about eight years older than me), and he really looked great and seemed to be doing well. His job last night was to play and sing solo the last set of the night before curfew.
Everywhere in Chiangmai I've been so far owners/proprietors are complaining about the slow, low season and the bad effect of the military's curfew on business.
But Tiger Kingdom was nearly full of customers enjoying fine food and drink and exciting new music, and I was happy to be part of that crowd.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Tuk "Pepsi" at New Chiangmai Brasserie Location
Last night Tuk turned up at Pik and Stefan's place. I think he was surprised to see me.
Tuk and his wife Jit run the Brasserie in Chiangmai which has relocated from its excellent riverside location to a smaller spot just outside the eastern side of the old city walls.
Two decades ago Tuk had a reputation as the best rock and roll guitarist in Chiangmai and his specialty was Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, and early Eric Clapton covers, and he was always backed by a powerful rhythm section.
These days there's some downsizing happening, and he's playing mostly acoustic guitar now, and mentoring a new generation of younger, hungry local musicians.
Tuk is widely traveled for a Thai, having been to Europe and Japan several times over the years, and there was a period in the mid-nineties when he secured a sponsorship deal from the Pepsi corporation. Since "Tuk" is a somewhat common nickname in Thailand, he was known as Tuk Pepsi for awhile.
He and I had a falling out at one point, but later I realized I had pushed something a little too far, and so I sought to mend fences with him, and today that story is water long under the bridge.
My friend Marc and I were musical partners in the early '90s, and often Thai people couldn't tell us apart, they calling me "Marc" and calling him "Dave".
Apparently Tuk's wife Jit mixed up the two of us again last night. After chatting with her for awhile, she said: "So are you here to see your daughter?"
I explained to her that Pepo isn't my daughter but "she's Marc's daughter", and Jit apologized, but I assured her that of course "I'm here to see her too."
Tuk and his wife Jit run the Brasserie in Chiangmai which has relocated from its excellent riverside location to a smaller spot just outside the eastern side of the old city walls.
Two decades ago Tuk had a reputation as the best rock and roll guitarist in Chiangmai and his specialty was Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, and early Eric Clapton covers, and he was always backed by a powerful rhythm section.
These days there's some downsizing happening, and he's playing mostly acoustic guitar now, and mentoring a new generation of younger, hungry local musicians.
Tuk is widely traveled for a Thai, having been to Europe and Japan several times over the years, and there was a period in the mid-nineties when he secured a sponsorship deal from the Pepsi corporation. Since "Tuk" is a somewhat common nickname in Thailand, he was known as Tuk Pepsi for awhile.
He and I had a falling out at one point, but later I realized I had pushed something a little too far, and so I sought to mend fences with him, and today that story is water long under the bridge.
My friend Marc and I were musical partners in the early '90s, and often Thai people couldn't tell us apart, they calling me "Marc" and calling him "Dave".
Apparently Tuk's wife Jit mixed up the two of us again last night. After chatting with her for awhile, she said: "So are you here to see your daughter?"
I explained to her that Pepo isn't my daughter but "she's Marc's daughter", and Jit apologized, but I assured her that of course "I'm here to see her too."
Monday, June 2, 2014
Pik and Stefan and Their Kids
Pik is my oldest Thai friend. She and I have known each other for almost 25 years (I am slightly older than her). She married my friend Marc in 1990, and their daughter Pepo was born in May 1991.
Although their marriage didn't last long, Marc sent money regularly for Pepo's education, and recently she earned her bachelor's degree in film studies from Rajabhat University in Bangkok.
A month ago Pepo found an entry level position in Bangkok with the Kantana Film Company with a decent starting salary.
Stefan, a young man from Germany, met Pik in the hills of Mae Hong Son Province in 1994 where they were both working--Pik as a trekking guide and Stefan as a silversmith. They fell in love and Stefan became Pepo's surrogate father.
In 1995 Pik gave birth to a son, Caspar. I remember Caspar when he was only two or three years old at the time I returned to Thailand in 1997 following a year in the States. At that time Pik and Stefan and the kids were living high in the hills of Mae Hong Son outside a Shan village overlooking a spectacular view of the bordering area of Burma. Their compound became a regular stop for me in my travels in northern Thailand in 1997-98 and early 2001, partly because it was a remote kind of paradise.
In 1999 their daughter Tara was born, followed quickly by another daughter, Miriam, toward the end of the year 2000. Tara was only two or so and Miriam just a baby when I visited the family in early 2001.
They were--and still are--perhaps an unusual family by Thai and even by Western standards. Never very affluent but always hard-working, they believed in a living philosophy of closeness to nature, limited materialism, healthy food, and a "balanced lifestyle" incorporating both work and and plenty of leisure.
This lifestyle was never easy for them. For example, soon it became clear, as the kids grew older, that the school in the Shan village would not be able provide an adequate education for their children. As the kids grew older, it became necessary for the family to move closer to the cities of the north, and away from their homemade paradise in Mae Hong Son.
By the time I returned again for annual visits in 2005-2007, Pepo was living with Pik's parents in Doi Saket, a town just a half hour's drive east of central Chiangmai. Later, Caspar joined Pepo there, and the kids began attending school in Chiangmai.
Around this time, the family acquired a house in Doi Saket while keeping the property in Mae Hong Son. It was here that I last saw everyone during my last trip in August 2007. Pepo was 16, Caspar 11, Tara just 8, and little Miriam only six years old.
Now Pepo is 23 and succeeding in Bangkok while her younger brother and sisters are fast-growing teenagers: Caspar is 18 and attending a technical school, Tara's15 and preparing for a year's exchange study in Germany, and little Miriam is already 13 and just starting the new school year as a high school student in Chiangmai.
While still keeping the Doi Saket house, the family began moving piecemeal but more or less permanently to Chiangmai about 2-3 years ago.
Currently they rent a 2 1/2 story shophouse not far from my hotel, and Stefan also rents a small shop in a heavily touristed lane in Chiangmai's old city where he sells his silver jewelry and custom-crafted silk screen t-shirts.
Life hasn't gotten any easier for them. Though solidly middle class, they have never been as affluent as the typical Thai-farang couple. Every baht they make is hard-earned. The combined rent of their shophouse and store is about 14,000 baht per month ( a little less than $500) which seems very cheap by Western standards but which I know from my own experience can seem quite expensive under the circumstances.
As the kids grow older, the family faces different kinds of problems. Today Pik and Stefan complain about having to pay so much for the IT gadgets the kids desire: the laptops, cellphones, and other items that most Thai youngsters seem to require (and take for granted) in this wired new millennium.
They worry that their teens are wasting too much time in front of their own individual screens, and that this type of activity will negatively impact their education.
Certainly these kind of worries will sound familiar to Western parents, too.
Although their marriage didn't last long, Marc sent money regularly for Pepo's education, and recently she earned her bachelor's degree in film studies from Rajabhat University in Bangkok.
A month ago Pepo found an entry level position in Bangkok with the Kantana Film Company with a decent starting salary.
Stefan, a young man from Germany, met Pik in the hills of Mae Hong Son Province in 1994 where they were both working--Pik as a trekking guide and Stefan as a silversmith. They fell in love and Stefan became Pepo's surrogate father.
In 1995 Pik gave birth to a son, Caspar. I remember Caspar when he was only two or three years old at the time I returned to Thailand in 1997 following a year in the States. At that time Pik and Stefan and the kids were living high in the hills of Mae Hong Son outside a Shan village overlooking a spectacular view of the bordering area of Burma. Their compound became a regular stop for me in my travels in northern Thailand in 1997-98 and early 2001, partly because it was a remote kind of paradise.
In 1999 their daughter Tara was born, followed quickly by another daughter, Miriam, toward the end of the year 2000. Tara was only two or so and Miriam just a baby when I visited the family in early 2001.
They were--and still are--perhaps an unusual family by Thai and even by Western standards. Never very affluent but always hard-working, they believed in a living philosophy of closeness to nature, limited materialism, healthy food, and a "balanced lifestyle" incorporating both work and and plenty of leisure.
This lifestyle was never easy for them. For example, soon it became clear, as the kids grew older, that the school in the Shan village would not be able provide an adequate education for their children. As the kids grew older, it became necessary for the family to move closer to the cities of the north, and away from their homemade paradise in Mae Hong Son.
By the time I returned again for annual visits in 2005-2007, Pepo was living with Pik's parents in Doi Saket, a town just a half hour's drive east of central Chiangmai. Later, Caspar joined Pepo there, and the kids began attending school in Chiangmai.
Around this time, the family acquired a house in Doi Saket while keeping the property in Mae Hong Son. It was here that I last saw everyone during my last trip in August 2007. Pepo was 16, Caspar 11, Tara just 8, and little Miriam only six years old.
Now Pepo is 23 and succeeding in Bangkok while her younger brother and sisters are fast-growing teenagers: Caspar is 18 and attending a technical school, Tara's15 and preparing for a year's exchange study in Germany, and little Miriam is already 13 and just starting the new school year as a high school student in Chiangmai.
While still keeping the Doi Saket house, the family began moving piecemeal but more or less permanently to Chiangmai about 2-3 years ago.
Currently they rent a 2 1/2 story shophouse not far from my hotel, and Stefan also rents a small shop in a heavily touristed lane in Chiangmai's old city where he sells his silver jewelry and custom-crafted silk screen t-shirts.
Life hasn't gotten any easier for them. Though solidly middle class, they have never been as affluent as the typical Thai-farang couple. Every baht they make is hard-earned. The combined rent of their shophouse and store is about 14,000 baht per month ( a little less than $500) which seems very cheap by Western standards but which I know from my own experience can seem quite expensive under the circumstances.
As the kids grow older, the family faces different kinds of problems. Today Pik and Stefan complain about having to pay so much for the IT gadgets the kids desire: the laptops, cellphones, and other items that most Thai youngsters seem to require (and take for granted) in this wired new millennium.
They worry that their teens are wasting too much time in front of their own individual screens, and that this type of activity will negatively impact their education.
Certainly these kind of worries will sound familiar to Western parents, too.
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