Of the many excellent dishes of Thai cuisine's thousands of degustatory concoctions, one of my favorites is phad kra phao or fried basil leaves and hot chili peppers.
Typically served on rice with pork or chicken (but sometimes with shrimp or other seafood), you can also order it with a fried egg on the side, as the Thais often do.
There's also a version of the dish served with fried wide rice noodles, instead of the usual white rice, called phad khee mao (drunkard's noodles) which I've happily ordered instead.
When I began doing my annual revisits to Thailand in 2005 and 2006 one of my favorite pastimes was ordering this tasty and often spicy dish.
By the time of my last visit in 2007, my lust for phad kra phao had evolved into something of a quest to find the best of its kind in Thailand.
Without any real desire to find a definitive winner, however, I noticed after a time that I was ordering the dish at least once, sometimes twice, per day.
I ordered it from typical sit-down restaurants, from the smallest of street stalls, from air-conditioned food courts in shopping malls, from five-star hotel coffee shops, from fancy mountain resorts, from the humblest of village food shacks, from 20-30 baht menus (60 cents to 90 cents) to 300-400 baht menus ($9 to $12).
My friend Pik would often make it, and anytime I visited other friends at home there was a good chance phad kra phao would be on their own extensive, family-style meals as well.
Did I ever find the best one? I'm fairly certain I never had a bad one, with one remarkable exception.
In 1997 I was working the Phrae gig with the Banjoman Band. The venue was a typical restaurant/pub job (owned by the same owner of today's Tiger Kingdom in Chiangmai), and band members were entitled to one free rice dish per night.
The chef was aware that phad kra phao was one of my favorites, and he would ask me: "Dave kin phet dai mai?" ("Can you eat spicy?")
When I assured him that I could eat it spicy "baep Thai" (Thai style) it became something of a game for him to find my limit of phrik khee noo (hot chili peppers). Gradually his version of the dish became ever more spicy. After the meal he would smirk and ask me how it was: "Phet mai? Dave yang kin phet dai, reu?" ("Was it spicy? You can still eat spicy?") Always I would assure him: "Kin dai nae nawn! Arroi maak maak luhy" ("Of course I can eat spicy! It's very delicious")
One night, possibly in frustration at my unwillingness to blink, he went all out and just loaded up the dish with as much crushed chili pepper as he could manage. I forget now if I ordered it with pork, or chicken, or shrimp, or what, because it hardly matters: his creation was so spicy that it was virtually inedible. I went through the motions, but I conspicuously didn't clean my plate that evening.
As always, he was near the door as I was on my way home for the night, and he didn't waste time cornering me with: "Khuen-nee arroi mai? Dave yang kin phet dai, chai mai?" ("Was it good tonight? You can still eat spicy, right?") What a smartass!
Still, I refused to bend: "Arroi maak, kheun-nee man phet nit-noi tae arroi muean deum" ("Very tasty, tonight it was a little spicy but delicious all the same")
At this my culinary torturer roared with laughter as I walked out of the joint. I never ordered the dish from him again.
So did I ever find a "best" one? Who knows, but one occasion sticks out for me.
I recall that I ordered a standout version of the dish from a hole in the wall, outdoor-seated, food shack outside the so-called Fish Cave on the winding mountain road from Soppong to Mae Hong Son town.
If I remember correctly, the mae khrua (owner/chef) recommended the shrimp version, so I said okay. It absolutely blew me away with its flavor, subtle spicing, and overall naa-kin (extraordinarily delicious) quality.
How do I remember this occasion after having tried phad kra phao hundreds of times over 25 years?
Because on that day I said to myself:
"I think I might have found the best phad kra phao in Thailand!"
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Friday, July 4, 2014
Highlights of Five Weeks in Thailand
1.) This year's "place that sticks" is without a doubt my former home-away-from-home Chiangmai, where I spent about three of my five weeks in Thailand. It was great simply to hang out there as an informed ex-resident, now tourist, and surprising some of my old friends along the way.
2.) Hanging out with Pik and Stefan and their kids.
3.) Seeing Peppo, my niece, after seven long years.
4.) Although I didn't seek out as much live music as I would have even 10 years ago, discovering the bands at Tiger Kingdom in Chiangmai was definitely a highlight of this trip. The younger generation of singers and musicians here is very impressive, and though their older mentors--some of them contemporaries and friends of mine--have obviously helped with their development, I can tell that older musicians in Thailand can also learn a lot from their younger sisters and bretheran.
5.) Revisiting Soppong Town, Bangma Pha District, Mae Hong Son Province.
6.) Visiting the old 16th century Ayutthaya City ruins.
7.) Playing fiddle tunes with Sharon and Mick and others at Finnegan's Pub in Bangkok.
8.) Best $12 hotel room: The Rest Bull Bed and Bar in Chiangmai had everything I needed: clean sheets and bathroom, hot shower, fridge, air conditioning, cable TV, free coffee and tea, and relative peace and quiet.
9.) Best $22 hotel room: a toss-up between the S1 Hostel in Bangkok's Soi Ngam Dupli--with most of the same amenities listed above, and Hanoi's Serenity Hotel--also with the same amenities plus an excellent, free American-style breakfast and a desktop with internet access in my room.
10.) Best coffee: Vietnam wins this by a large margin with its strong black coffee sweetened with condensed milk. Thailand tries very hard with its many small espresso machines and $1 lattes, but at heart it's still a Nescafe nation. On the rare occasions when I found kafe boran, the Thai version of Vietnamese coffee, I ordered it in anticipation of my return to Hanoi.
2.) Hanging out with Pik and Stefan and their kids.
3.) Seeing Peppo, my niece, after seven long years.
4.) Although I didn't seek out as much live music as I would have even 10 years ago, discovering the bands at Tiger Kingdom in Chiangmai was definitely a highlight of this trip. The younger generation of singers and musicians here is very impressive, and though their older mentors--some of them contemporaries and friends of mine--have obviously helped with their development, I can tell that older musicians in Thailand can also learn a lot from their younger sisters and bretheran.
5.) Revisiting Soppong Town, Bangma Pha District, Mae Hong Son Province.
6.) Visiting the old 16th century Ayutthaya City ruins.
7.) Playing fiddle tunes with Sharon and Mick and others at Finnegan's Pub in Bangkok.
8.) Best $12 hotel room: The Rest Bull Bed and Bar in Chiangmai had everything I needed: clean sheets and bathroom, hot shower, fridge, air conditioning, cable TV, free coffee and tea, and relative peace and quiet.
9.) Best $22 hotel room: a toss-up between the S1 Hostel in Bangkok's Soi Ngam Dupli--with most of the same amenities listed above, and Hanoi's Serenity Hotel--also with the same amenities plus an excellent, free American-style breakfast and a desktop with internet access in my room.
10.) Best coffee: Vietnam wins this by a large margin with its strong black coffee sweetened with condensed milk. Thailand tries very hard with its many small espresso machines and $1 lattes, but at heart it's still a Nescafe nation. On the rare occasions when I found kafe boran, the Thai version of Vietnamese coffee, I ordered it in anticipation of my return to Hanoi.
Provoking Memory at the Hanoi Hilton
Having decided after much research to forgo a trip to World Heritage site Halong Bay, I narrow my focus to a few tourist attractions in Hanoi.
Perhaps a natural first stop for an American is the notorious Hoa Lo Prison. Also known as the Hanoi Hilton, this was the prison used to house American pilots and other U.S. prisoners captured during the Vietnam War. U.S. Senator John McCain is just one of the many notable inmates who resided here in the late '60s-early '70s. One of the many display cases in the museum shows McCain's flight suit and parachute.
Wikipedia's entry on the subject, despite an understandable pro-U.S. bias, is very informative and has this to say:
Most of the prison was demolished in the mid-1990s and the site now contains two high-rise buildings, one of them the 25-story Somerset Grand Hanoi serviced apartment building.[3] Other parts have been converted into a commercial complex retaining the original French colonial walls.[28] Only part of the prison exists today as a museum. The displays mainly show the prison during the French colonial period, including the guillotine room, still with original equipment, and the quarters for men and women Vietnamese political prisoners.[29] Exhibits related to the American prisoners include the interrogation room where many newly captured Americans were questioned (notorious among former prisoners as the "blue room") is now made up to look like a very comfortable, if spartan, barracks-style room. Displays in the room claim that Americans were treated well and not harmed (and even cite the nickname "Hanoi Hilton" as proof that inmates found the accommodations comparable to a hotel's). The museum's claims are contradicted by former prisoners' published memoirs and oral histories broadcast on C-SPAN identify the room (and other nearby locales) as the site of numerous acts of torture.
An English language Vietnamese publication Hoa Lo Prison: Historical Relic, published in December 2013 by the Administration Board of the museum, has this to say about the "American War" period:
From August 5, 1964, when the US started the war of destruction against North Vietnam to 7 a.m. on December 30, 1972, when the US had to declare an end to all bombing raid activities from the 20th Parallel northwards, the North Vietnamese army and people shot down 4,181 US craft, killed and captured hundreds of experienced American pilots.
In particular, during the 12 days and nights of December 1972 (the so-called "Christmas bombing"), North Vietnamese army and people shot down 23 B52 and 2 F11 aircraft, captured alive many American pilots, smashing the large-scale strategic surprise B52 attack by the US Air Force against two Vietnamese cities of Hanoi and Hai Phong, winning the "Dien Bien Phu Victory on the Air" (sic), defeating the supremacy of the US Air Force and forcing the US to sit at the negotiating table at the Paris Conference that led to an end to the war (sic) and restoration of peace in Vietnam.
According to the museum administration board, the U.S. pilots
were given sufficient personal belonging including smallest things to meet their daily needs...captured pilots were created (sic) favorable conditions for entertainment, cultural and sports activities, chess playing, listening to Voice of Vietnam radio (English broadcasts), watching films and enjoying music. Parties were organized for them during New Year festivals amd holidays, what were impossible (sic) for the Vietnamese at that time.
For the Vietnamese this museum provokes historical memory of the 100-year colonial experience under the French, so most of the site is dedicated to those years from the mid-1890s until the 1940s-1950s.
The solitary confinement cells are the most harrowing for today's visitor. The smallness of the cells combined with the unbearable heat and humidity illustrate the barest glimpse of the misery of countless political prisoners many of whom awaited execution by guillotine.
Two rooms, the only air conditioned ones on site(!?), are dedicated to the U.S. prisoners. Each room has a video monitor running propaganda videos on loop over the various display cases of artifacts and photographs from the period.
Book lovers will like to know that inside one of the museum courtyards there is a pretty good used book shop (mostly English language) with Vietnam-themed postcards for sale as well.
Perhaps a natural first stop for an American is the notorious Hoa Lo Prison. Also known as the Hanoi Hilton, this was the prison used to house American pilots and other U.S. prisoners captured during the Vietnam War. U.S. Senator John McCain is just one of the many notable inmates who resided here in the late '60s-early '70s. One of the many display cases in the museum shows McCain's flight suit and parachute.
Wikipedia's entry on the subject, despite an understandable pro-U.S. bias, is very informative and has this to say:
Most of the prison was demolished in the mid-1990s and the site now contains two high-rise buildings, one of them the 25-story Somerset Grand Hanoi serviced apartment building.[3] Other parts have been converted into a commercial complex retaining the original French colonial walls.[28] Only part of the prison exists today as a museum. The displays mainly show the prison during the French colonial period, including the guillotine room, still with original equipment, and the quarters for men and women Vietnamese political prisoners.[29] Exhibits related to the American prisoners include the interrogation room where many newly captured Americans were questioned (notorious among former prisoners as the "blue room") is now made up to look like a very comfortable, if spartan, barracks-style room. Displays in the room claim that Americans were treated well and not harmed (and even cite the nickname "Hanoi Hilton" as proof that inmates found the accommodations comparable to a hotel's). The museum's claims are contradicted by former prisoners' published memoirs and oral histories broadcast on C-SPAN identify the room (and other nearby locales) as the site of numerous acts of torture.
An English language Vietnamese publication Hoa Lo Prison: Historical Relic, published in December 2013 by the Administration Board of the museum, has this to say about the "American War" period:
From August 5, 1964, when the US started the war of destruction against North Vietnam to 7 a.m. on December 30, 1972, when the US had to declare an end to all bombing raid activities from the 20th Parallel northwards, the North Vietnamese army and people shot down 4,181 US craft, killed and captured hundreds of experienced American pilots.
In particular, during the 12 days and nights of December 1972 (the so-called "Christmas bombing"), North Vietnamese army and people shot down 23 B52 and 2 F11 aircraft, captured alive many American pilots, smashing the large-scale strategic surprise B52 attack by the US Air Force against two Vietnamese cities of Hanoi and Hai Phong, winning the "Dien Bien Phu Victory on the Air" (sic), defeating the supremacy of the US Air Force and forcing the US to sit at the negotiating table at the Paris Conference that led to an end to the war (sic) and restoration of peace in Vietnam.
According to the museum administration board, the U.S. pilots
were given sufficient personal belonging including smallest things to meet their daily needs...captured pilots were created (sic) favorable conditions for entertainment, cultural and sports activities, chess playing, listening to Voice of Vietnam radio (English broadcasts), watching films and enjoying music. Parties were organized for them during New Year festivals amd holidays, what were impossible (sic) for the Vietnamese at that time.
For the Vietnamese this museum provokes historical memory of the 100-year colonial experience under the French, so most of the site is dedicated to those years from the mid-1890s until the 1940s-1950s.
The solitary confinement cells are the most harrowing for today's visitor. The smallness of the cells combined with the unbearable heat and humidity illustrate the barest glimpse of the misery of countless political prisoners many of whom awaited execution by guillotine.
Two rooms, the only air conditioned ones on site(!?), are dedicated to the U.S. prisoners. Each room has a video monitor running propaganda videos on loop over the various display cases of artifacts and photographs from the period.
Book lovers will like to know that inside one of the museum courtyards there is a pretty good used book shop (mostly English language) with Vietnam-themed postcards for sale as well.
Doing the Hustle in Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia
My two "visits" to Cambodia over the past 25 years were limited to a 2001 trip to the Aranyaprathet-Poipet border towns and to the disputed temple ruins in Phra Viharn, a World Heritage site which is technically in Cambodian territory but accessible only from the Thai side of the border.
I did both these excursions with my artist friend K who at the time was documenting a large photo project of Khmer ruins sites in Thailand as part of a much bigger multi-continental conception of religious-cultural exploration in Europe, Asia, and Latin America.
So my personal experience of the Indochinese "dominoes" of the '60s-'70s is limited to 7 or 8 trips, mostly of the "visa run" variety, into Laos between 1991 and 2001, and to my current visits to the capital of (formerly North) Vietnam.
In Indochina the French colonists left behind a number of things, most notably their churches and colonial-era architecture, but they also left their taste for fresh crispy baguettes, strong sweetened coffee, crafted beer and wine, and world-class cuisine.
Even the French language lingers here as many older people can speak and understand at least a little French. This morning at breakfast in my hotel I overheard a young woman, almost certainly a French-Vietnamese, in conversation with her farang French boyfriend. On TV here I have seen young Vietnamese translating for French journalists in travelogue pieces for French television.
Like Thai people, the Lao and the Vietnamese are quick with the broadest of smiles for foreign visitors. But I've noticed that many people I meet on the street in Hanoi are also aggressively on "the make", looking to hustle the tourist out of her hard-earned dollars, euros and yen.
In my few days here I've been overcharged for a moto taxi (motorcycle taxi) service and for cold bottles of water or Coke. In the larger scope of things, these are minor irritations, but travelers know that this kind of hustle isn't sustainable over the long term. Tourists quickly grow weary of getting charged $2-3 for a $1 Coke or a 50 cent bottle of water. Then they often become wary of many impromptu interactions with locals on the street.
In Hanoi I've been approached by a few young people claiming to be students who want to "help" me by becoming my temporary guide around town on their motorbike, for a fee of course, or so I've assumed.
Now I don't mind paying a reasonable fee for a reasonable service, and I've been quoted a price of $20 for a half day, or $40 for a full day, of guided moto service to museums and other city landmarks. This price seems reasonable, but it depends partly upon the guide's facility with English. And another big question is: will (s)he stick to the agreed upon itinerary, or will (s)he be looking to upsell additonal services into the bargain? ("My wife will go shopping at the market and cook lunch for you; pay what you like!" or "My niece owns a store selling Vietnamese handicrafts; shall I call her and say we will visit this afternoon?")
What really gives me pause, however, is the person who says "Pay what you like." That seems to me to be an open invitation to serious conflict later in the day.
All the guidebooks I've checked out warn about the friendly hustle going down in Hanoi, which--compared to Thailand or Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon)--is relatively new to the Southeast Asian tourism game. And they warn about the airport taxi scams, aggressive moto drivers, fly-by-night tour operators, fake guesthouse scams (where crooks steal the name of a reputable hotel or tour company and cash in quickly before closing down the enterprise), and other tourist pitfalls in Vietnam generally, and in Hanoi in particular.
I understand all this: I know that farang tourists are going to pay a premium--whether in Thailand, Laos, or Vietnam--and I also know that my comprehension of the Thai language and Thai social customs is often rewarded with a 30%-50% discount on a wide array of goods and services in Thailand. I also know that I'm not entitled to the same sort of discounts in Vietnam.
And I'm not saying that the farang premium is always bad--indeed, I will gladly pay more for a service that I want, when I need it, and as long as it's within my often-limited budget.
But I object to touts who insist "we must go now, today" before one can get his proper bearings, or others who persist in advancing their paid agendas despite several obvious, emphatic "No's!" on my part.
Whenever I've said "No, not today, but what are you doing tomorrow morning?" (after I've had a chance to do a little more research), almost invariably my interlocutors lose interest in me and are off to corner their next tourist prospects.
I did both these excursions with my artist friend K who at the time was documenting a large photo project of Khmer ruins sites in Thailand as part of a much bigger multi-continental conception of religious-cultural exploration in Europe, Asia, and Latin America.
So my personal experience of the Indochinese "dominoes" of the '60s-'70s is limited to 7 or 8 trips, mostly of the "visa run" variety, into Laos between 1991 and 2001, and to my current visits to the capital of (formerly North) Vietnam.
In Indochina the French colonists left behind a number of things, most notably their churches and colonial-era architecture, but they also left their taste for fresh crispy baguettes, strong sweetened coffee, crafted beer and wine, and world-class cuisine.
Even the French language lingers here as many older people can speak and understand at least a little French. This morning at breakfast in my hotel I overheard a young woman, almost certainly a French-Vietnamese, in conversation with her farang French boyfriend. On TV here I have seen young Vietnamese translating for French journalists in travelogue pieces for French television.
Like Thai people, the Lao and the Vietnamese are quick with the broadest of smiles for foreign visitors. But I've noticed that many people I meet on the street in Hanoi are also aggressively on "the make", looking to hustle the tourist out of her hard-earned dollars, euros and yen.
In my few days here I've been overcharged for a moto taxi (motorcycle taxi) service and for cold bottles of water or Coke. In the larger scope of things, these are minor irritations, but travelers know that this kind of hustle isn't sustainable over the long term. Tourists quickly grow weary of getting charged $2-3 for a $1 Coke or a 50 cent bottle of water. Then they often become wary of many impromptu interactions with locals on the street.
In Hanoi I've been approached by a few young people claiming to be students who want to "help" me by becoming my temporary guide around town on their motorbike, for a fee of course, or so I've assumed.
Now I don't mind paying a reasonable fee for a reasonable service, and I've been quoted a price of $20 for a half day, or $40 for a full day, of guided moto service to museums and other city landmarks. This price seems reasonable, but it depends partly upon the guide's facility with English. And another big question is: will (s)he stick to the agreed upon itinerary, or will (s)he be looking to upsell additonal services into the bargain? ("My wife will go shopping at the market and cook lunch for you; pay what you like!" or "My niece owns a store selling Vietnamese handicrafts; shall I call her and say we will visit this afternoon?")
What really gives me pause, however, is the person who says "Pay what you like." That seems to me to be an open invitation to serious conflict later in the day.
All the guidebooks I've checked out warn about the friendly hustle going down in Hanoi, which--compared to Thailand or Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon)--is relatively new to the Southeast Asian tourism game. And they warn about the airport taxi scams, aggressive moto drivers, fly-by-night tour operators, fake guesthouse scams (where crooks steal the name of a reputable hotel or tour company and cash in quickly before closing down the enterprise), and other tourist pitfalls in Vietnam generally, and in Hanoi in particular.
I understand all this: I know that farang tourists are going to pay a premium--whether in Thailand, Laos, or Vietnam--and I also know that my comprehension of the Thai language and Thai social customs is often rewarded with a 30%-50% discount on a wide array of goods and services in Thailand. I also know that I'm not entitled to the same sort of discounts in Vietnam.
And I'm not saying that the farang premium is always bad--indeed, I will gladly pay more for a service that I want, when I need it, and as long as it's within my often-limited budget.
But I object to touts who insist "we must go now, today" before one can get his proper bearings, or others who persist in advancing their paid agendas despite several obvious, emphatic "No's!" on my part.
Whenever I've said "No, not today, but what are you doing tomorrow morning?" (after I've had a chance to do a little more research), almost invariably my interlocutors lose interest in me and are off to corner their next tourist prospects.
Rainy Season in Hot, Muggy Hanoi
The weather is starting to get to me, but it's not the welcome late afternoon rains that are doing me in; it's the almost unbearable heat and humidity.
The old cliche "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" was never more true than it is here in Hanoi. An ordinary late morning walk of 30 minutes or so has my shirt soaked through to the skin and my brain crying out for some air-conditioned relief.
But AC is expensive here, and although I have an ACd hotel room, the hotel's management keeps the thermostat locked in at about 80 degrees Fahrenheit. This is a welcome respite from the muggy streets of the old city neighborhood, but in my room in the daytime I can't wear much more than a pha khao ma, the Thai version of the men's sarong. This is a popular garment for men of all ages, in many countries of the region, for when they're simply hanging out at home.
Unlike in Bangkok, the Vietnamese capital city doesn't have nearly as many centrally-cooled shopping malls, fast food restaurants, and other oases of tropically-located, electrically-powered cool zones.
So it's best to get out early--seven or eight in the morning at the latest until 11.00 or 12.00 noon--then take a long siesta after lunch before going back out again at 5.00 p.m. as things begins to cool down a little, hopefully with some rain to help things along.
These past few days, however, we haven't seen much rain either--even though the skies have remained cloudy for much of the day.
The old cliche "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" was never more true than it is here in Hanoi. An ordinary late morning walk of 30 minutes or so has my shirt soaked through to the skin and my brain crying out for some air-conditioned relief.
But AC is expensive here, and although I have an ACd hotel room, the hotel's management keeps the thermostat locked in at about 80 degrees Fahrenheit. This is a welcome respite from the muggy streets of the old city neighborhood, but in my room in the daytime I can't wear much more than a pha khao ma, the Thai version of the men's sarong. This is a popular garment for men of all ages, in many countries of the region, for when they're simply hanging out at home.
Unlike in Bangkok, the Vietnamese capital city doesn't have nearly as many centrally-cooled shopping malls, fast food restaurants, and other oases of tropically-located, electrically-powered cool zones.
So it's best to get out early--seven or eight in the morning at the latest until 11.00 or 12.00 noon--then take a long siesta after lunch before going back out again at 5.00 p.m. as things begins to cool down a little, hopefully with some rain to help things along.
These past few days, however, we haven't seen much rain either--even though the skies have remained cloudy for much of the day.
Back in Post-Vietnam War Hanoi
I arrived in Hanoi on Tuesday July 1 and was almost the first in line to present my extraordinary health declaration to Vietnamese officials--now required of all visitors flying from Qatar, Saudi Arabia and other middle eastern countries--amidst a swarm of news cameras and media spotlights.
My declaration was only a formality since technically I spent the last 30-some days in Thailand, but I flew in on the regular Qatar Airways Bangkok-Hanoi flight, and the news crews were on hand to document the first 200 passengers to arrive in Hanoi under the new regulations.
The form I filled out never mentions the deadly MERS-CoV which has lately been in the news, but I knew I'd guessed correctly about its purpose when I googled the whole episode later the next day.
It's always an adventure when I visit a country new to my own experience--especially when it's a country that's been on my "to go" list for three or four decades, as is Vietnam.
I grew up with the Vietnam War, the first TV war in America's checkered history of international interventions, and somehow I was profoundly affected by the experience of seeing so many American boys return from this mysterious Southeast Asian land, which looks like a serpent on the map and which always seems to have had such colorful postage stamps, in body bags and caskets.
Although I was only six years old at the time of the February 1968 Tet Offensive I distinctly remember being frightened at the prospect of getting drafted for the slaughter of a long-running quagmire that I was sure--deep down--would see Americans and Vietnamese killing each other well into the 21st Century. When I was 10 years old I was already planning my trip to Canada or Sweden to avoid that prospect.
My uncle was stationed in Hue, not so far from the DMZ marking the border between North and South Vietnam, but his 1965-66 tour was relatively early in the conflict, before the Lyndon B. Johnson administration began its upsizing from a few thousand military "advisors" to the eventual 500,000 troops that were stationed in the south at the peak of the war.
In retrospect, the U.S. attempt to prevent the Soviet-backed, Red Chinese-inspired Viet Cong from toppling the corrupt, inept South Vietnamese government was obviously doomed to failure. But at the time it may have seemed reasonable to most Americans that if South Vietnam fell to the "communist monolith" it would necessarily be the first of several Indochinese "dominoes" to topple, perhaps bringing Thailand, Burma, and Malaysia down with them.
In fact, American involvement in the war inevitably spread to Cambodia where the murderous Khmer Rouge for several years was battling the right-wing Lon Nol regime for control, and to Laos where another low-level "communist" insurgency--similar to that taking place in northeastern Thailand--was also brewing.
It bears mentioning that these Indochinese wars were taking place in three of the poorest countries on earth.
When the U.S. and North Vietnam finally agreed on a peace accord in January 1973 that would see a complete American withdrawal in exchange for the return of all American POWs held by Hanoi, it was only a matter of time before the Indochinese insurgencies bore fruit. By the end of April 1975 Vietnam was reunified under Hanoi, and communist regimes were in control in Phnom Penh and Vientiane as well.
But Thailand successfully crushed its own low-level insurgency in the 1970s and 1980s, as Malaysia had done in the 1950s-1960s.
My declaration was only a formality since technically I spent the last 30-some days in Thailand, but I flew in on the regular Qatar Airways Bangkok-Hanoi flight, and the news crews were on hand to document the first 200 passengers to arrive in Hanoi under the new regulations.
The form I filled out never mentions the deadly MERS-CoV which has lately been in the news, but I knew I'd guessed correctly about its purpose when I googled the whole episode later the next day.
It's always an adventure when I visit a country new to my own experience--especially when it's a country that's been on my "to go" list for three or four decades, as is Vietnam.
I grew up with the Vietnam War, the first TV war in America's checkered history of international interventions, and somehow I was profoundly affected by the experience of seeing so many American boys return from this mysterious Southeast Asian land, which looks like a serpent on the map and which always seems to have had such colorful postage stamps, in body bags and caskets.
Although I was only six years old at the time of the February 1968 Tet Offensive I distinctly remember being frightened at the prospect of getting drafted for the slaughter of a long-running quagmire that I was sure--deep down--would see Americans and Vietnamese killing each other well into the 21st Century. When I was 10 years old I was already planning my trip to Canada or Sweden to avoid that prospect.
My uncle was stationed in Hue, not so far from the DMZ marking the border between North and South Vietnam, but his 1965-66 tour was relatively early in the conflict, before the Lyndon B. Johnson administration began its upsizing from a few thousand military "advisors" to the eventual 500,000 troops that were stationed in the south at the peak of the war.
In retrospect, the U.S. attempt to prevent the Soviet-backed, Red Chinese-inspired Viet Cong from toppling the corrupt, inept South Vietnamese government was obviously doomed to failure. But at the time it may have seemed reasonable to most Americans that if South Vietnam fell to the "communist monolith" it would necessarily be the first of several Indochinese "dominoes" to topple, perhaps bringing Thailand, Burma, and Malaysia down with them.
In fact, American involvement in the war inevitably spread to Cambodia where the murderous Khmer Rouge for several years was battling the right-wing Lon Nol regime for control, and to Laos where another low-level "communist" insurgency--similar to that taking place in northeastern Thailand--was also brewing.
It bears mentioning that these Indochinese wars were taking place in three of the poorest countries on earth.
When the U.S. and North Vietnam finally agreed on a peace accord in January 1973 that would see a complete American withdrawal in exchange for the return of all American POWs held by Hanoi, it was only a matter of time before the Indochinese insurgencies bore fruit. By the end of April 1975 Vietnam was reunified under Hanoi, and communist regimes were in control in Phnom Penh and Vientiane as well.
But Thailand successfully crushed its own low-level insurgency in the 1970s and 1980s, as Malaysia had done in the 1950s-1960s.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
A Tour of Historical Thailand
My weekend in Bangkok with Sharon turned out to be action-packed with activities. On Friday morning we met in the Silom area and had a brief look at the Patpong district in daylight. This is the heart of Bangkok's world (in)famous nightlife, and both Soi Patpong 1 and Patpong 2 are normally packed with tourists and vendors in the huge night bazaar. Without the neon lights, however--and in the unforgiving late morning sun--the neighborhood appears even seedier in the daytime than it is at night.
We then set out for Siam Square, an old haunt from my youth, on Bangkok's BTS Skytrain, and I was quite confused by all the changes in the neighborhood since my last visit about 20 years ago. The Mah Boon Krong mall is still there, but now it's rebranded as MBK. I was gratified to see that the old Lido and Scala movie houses are still in the same place.
The Siam Square mall itself remains basically unchanged, albeit spiffed up, but there are many new buildings surrounding it, and these are all rather tall-- 20 stories or more in some cases.
From this point, roughly about halfway between Silom and the Chao Phraya River, we picked up a local city bus for the long trip out to the Banglamphu area which is the location of all the big Bangkok tourist attractions such as the Grand Palace, the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, Khao San Road, Sanam Luang, Thammasat University, and the National Museum, our ultimate destination.
Although the 200 baht admission fee is a little bit on the high side for a Thai museum ticket, the entire compound is huge with a very thorough and informative historical exhibit hall to kick things off before one enters the numerous buildings with their display galleries. We spent about three hours on the site but I doubt if we covered even a third of it.
The next day Sharon and I met on Sukhumwit Soi 61 to watch the latest installment of the Thai historical film series King Naresuan 5. King Naresuan was a hero in 16th century Thailand because he fought the hated Burmese and sought vengeance for the latter's sacking of the old Siamese capital city Ayutthaya . As part of the current Thai army junta's program to "Bring Happiness Back to the Thai People", the military government promoted a nationwide ticket giveaway earlier in June so Thais could see the film for free.
Although we paid for our tickets, we thoroughly enjoyed the movie since we were planning to visit the ruins of Ayutthaya with Sharon's husband Michael on the following day, and the historical subject matter of the film piqued our interest in the Ayutthaya story.
Unfortunately, Michael was called back to work on Sunday, so Sharon and I rebooted the idea and made the trip on Monday morning with a hired car and driver, Uncle U.
It's difficult to describe the sheer scope of the ancient ruined city which is full of temples, numerous Buddha images (some of them gigantic including a famous reclining Buddha), many large jedi (stupas), and more.
We started out with a list of about 10 sites and we probably visited 6-7 of them over a six hour period.
On Monday night Sharon helped organize a jam session at Finnegan's Pub on Soi Nana and there was a pretty good turnout of expat players (bodhran, banjo, guitar, mandolin, and fiddle) and Thai/expat listeners.
Sharon did an excellent job helping to clear the cobwebs from my memory of American and Irish fiddle tunes, and at one point the host of the session asked me to play something from Thailand.
Of course I played Khang Khao Kin Kluay (Bats Eating Bananas). By the time I hit the third time around the form, this excellent pickup band of the aged, the middle-aged, and the young, was backing me up so solidly it attracted the attention of the Thai waitstaff and barkeeps.
It also caught the attention of Father Joe Maier, a Bangkok icon of many years for his work in the Khlong Toei slums, who just happened to be in the audience that night.
We then set out for Siam Square, an old haunt from my youth, on Bangkok's BTS Skytrain, and I was quite confused by all the changes in the neighborhood since my last visit about 20 years ago. The Mah Boon Krong mall is still there, but now it's rebranded as MBK. I was gratified to see that the old Lido and Scala movie houses are still in the same place.
The Siam Square mall itself remains basically unchanged, albeit spiffed up, but there are many new buildings surrounding it, and these are all rather tall-- 20 stories or more in some cases.
From this point, roughly about halfway between Silom and the Chao Phraya River, we picked up a local city bus for the long trip out to the Banglamphu area which is the location of all the big Bangkok tourist attractions such as the Grand Palace, the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, Khao San Road, Sanam Luang, Thammasat University, and the National Museum, our ultimate destination.
Although the 200 baht admission fee is a little bit on the high side for a Thai museum ticket, the entire compound is huge with a very thorough and informative historical exhibit hall to kick things off before one enters the numerous buildings with their display galleries. We spent about three hours on the site but I doubt if we covered even a third of it.
The next day Sharon and I met on Sukhumwit Soi 61 to watch the latest installment of the Thai historical film series King Naresuan 5. King Naresuan was a hero in 16th century Thailand because he fought the hated Burmese and sought vengeance for the latter's sacking of the old Siamese capital city Ayutthaya . As part of the current Thai army junta's program to "Bring Happiness Back to the Thai People", the military government promoted a nationwide ticket giveaway earlier in June so Thais could see the film for free.
Although we paid for our tickets, we thoroughly enjoyed the movie since we were planning to visit the ruins of Ayutthaya with Sharon's husband Michael on the following day, and the historical subject matter of the film piqued our interest in the Ayutthaya story.
Unfortunately, Michael was called back to work on Sunday, so Sharon and I rebooted the idea and made the trip on Monday morning with a hired car and driver, Uncle U.
It's difficult to describe the sheer scope of the ancient ruined city which is full of temples, numerous Buddha images (some of them gigantic including a famous reclining Buddha), many large jedi (stupas), and more.
We started out with a list of about 10 sites and we probably visited 6-7 of them over a six hour period.
On Monday night Sharon helped organize a jam session at Finnegan's Pub on Soi Nana and there was a pretty good turnout of expat players (bodhran, banjo, guitar, mandolin, and fiddle) and Thai/expat listeners.
Sharon did an excellent job helping to clear the cobwebs from my memory of American and Irish fiddle tunes, and at one point the host of the session asked me to play something from Thailand.
Of course I played Khang Khao Kin Kluay (Bats Eating Bananas). By the time I hit the third time around the form, this excellent pickup band of the aged, the middle-aged, and the young, was backing me up so solidly it attracted the attention of the Thai waitstaff and barkeeps.
It also caught the attention of Father Joe Maier, a Bangkok icon of many years for his work in the Khlong Toei slums, who just happened to be in the audience that night.
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