degrees of frustration

flavor: sour-ish

I’m going to be flogged for saying this, but I wish it weren’t so hot. Most people I know are in the midst of winter or just wishing that they had a few degrees more to get them to Spring. However, I’m just not a hot weather person. I’ve tried, I really have. So, now I am gleefully awaiting a trip to NY for the chance, among other reasons, to reacquaint myself with pants and sweaters.

Somehow, I feel that we were cheated out of a cool season this year. It’s really not long enough to be called a season. It’s three or four weeks – tops. Here it’s called the hot season, by some. The other two are hotter and hottest. Perhaps I am just forgetting that we had a glorious few days around Thanksgiving when I was wearing a fleece to bed. It was short, but very, very sweet.

We do not have air conditioning in our bathrooms (or our kitchen, for that matter). And the spaces that are graced with that heavenly gift of chill are rarely used, as we are careful about electricity (I am trying to be a good environmentalist, here)!

I’ve worked on relaxing and breathing and somehow (knowing my character, you’d understand), it just doesn’t make it any cooler. The air is thick. It’s wet. It’s sticky. It’s the kind of sticky that you don’t even have to move to sweat. Taking a shower has taken on new meaning. It’s not just the ritual of getting clean (which is desperately needed here), but it’s really the most comfortable place to be. The BEST feeling. Getting out, however, is another story. I’m not one to waste water, but I honestly could stay in the shower all day, prune-y hands and all. The minute you get out, you feel like you need to take a shower. There is no cooling off. It’s a lucky day if there’s a breeze. In this weather, you don’t dry off if there is no breeze.

My days are spent looking for cool places. Not hip places, cool places. Walking to get lunch at work (i.e.: taking the elevator downstairs), can work up a sweat equivalent to a full-on workout. So, if I want to take the stairs or walk a little further afield for lunch, there must be an air conditioned space at the end of the rainbow. Otherwise, I wouldn’t do it. Not worth the sweat. Really, the effort is minimal, but the payback is horrifying. I’ve even deliberately planned ¼ mile walks to pass through three very cold shopping malls.

Staying cool when working outside is quite literally impossible. Luckily, the building where I work (like many here) is heavily ‘open’ to allow breeze to come through. The roof even opens up! However, when spending a marathon 12 hour review session outdoors (in the shade, even) critiquing one student after the other, It just doesn’t cut it. Did I mention that I’m in full work attire?

I call my newest trick, the Darth Vader. It’s my low tech way of getting the cool when I need it. As water or beverage (of the non-alcoholic genre, unfortunately) is always necessary and ice is a large component of said refreshment, you might as well use all of the drink’s resources to your advantage. So, when my liquid refreshment is gone, I simply hold the cup of ice up to my face (similarly as you would with a gas mask at the dentist) and breathe in and out. It does make a ‘haw-per’ kind of noise as did its namesake in the Star Wars films. And, I’m sure it looks quite ridiculous. But, it makes THE coolest breeeeeeze. Whatever gets you through, right?

I’ve cut my hair shorter, switched to open shoes and learned how to walk with an umbrella, even on the sunniest of days. I am trying, I really am.

On the bright side, I do drink more water and I don’t need a sauna.

doors in the 'hood

flavor:  salty

It's hot.  really hot.  I know most of you can't believe it with all that winter going on, but, believe me, it's hot here.  So, despite the large doses of caffeine, I am unable to stay awake to pen a post and will retreat to my air conditioned bedroom.

flavor:  sweet

So, instead of words upon words, I give you another stop on the tour of my neighborhood.  The doors and gates that make up our street.

This last one is good.  It's a dog house.  Literally.  Until very recently, a pack of stray dogs (who are not so stray if they have a home...) had inhabited this small piece of land/pieced together home (roof and all).  I sometimes wonder if the dogs built it themselves.... The door has since been boarded up and the dogs have disappeared.  The note now reads something like...."keep this door closed or else you'll die..."  I'm not touching it.

welcome to the neighborhood

flavor: neutral
I am amazed at the size of this city. When driving (because we don’t walk here – no one does) along a busy main street, you really have no idea of what labyrinth lies behind that initial wallpaper of shops and street vendors. But, turn into a small street or make a wrong turn, and you’ll realize that you are in another hidden neighborhood – a mix of makeshift living quarters alongside obviously well planned and often, horribly designed, houses of the upper crust. It makes me realize that, if I can find this hidden neighborhood here, how many others lurk behind the facades of the countless busy streets of this city.

A tour is in order. It’s not your typical neighborhood. In fact, it’s quite the opposite of what I imagined as my future place of residence, when I first came here 10 years ago on my first visit. To be honest, I was a bit scared after being led here for the first time. Really, you live here? It’s just not like anyplace I’ve ever lived. I have since adjusted (or, let's say: i'm working on it).

It’s easy to find our street off of the main road, since it is signaled by a typically Thai, large ornamental gate. Also read as: beyond here lies a temple (our neighbor). Another way to find it is to turn right at the mango and sticky rice, continue on past the satay, northeastern style sausage and fish noodles and straight on until the Pad Thai. Another 15 feet (when you see the mangosteen), turn left and you’ve arrived. If you haven’t guessed, we are lucky to live in a food-rich neighborhood, smells and all.

Still a bit to go, though.  You'll need to navigate the small bridge over the canal, but don't worry, the neighbors are all out in their places, watching you carefully to make sure you clear it.

Our street is, maybe, 5 feet wide. Yes, I may exaggerate a bit, but really, it’s quite narrow. It’s back alley kind of narrow. It’s one car at a time, please. If you’re lucky, no one will be coming out while you are coming in. There is laundry hanging out to dry in the street (it cleans my car as I brush past). There are densely packed houses on either side, luckily, each with a distinct character of its own (which I didn’t notice, at first, since I was too focused on my side view mirrors practically grazing the walls on either side of the street). One story, two stories, four stories - we’ve got it all. Brown and yellow are favorites, and add a splash of bright blue for good measure. All houses are surrounded by walls with only a gate signaling the entrance to each property. Some are colorful, others rusted and in need of attention. They may be fully closed, wide open to what lies behind or sometimes just slightly ajar, offering only a peak into the lifestyle beyond.

If you were to look at an aerial view of our compound you would notice many things, but two stand out: we are not alone and we are never alone. First, we live next to my in-laws. Our house is part of a three pronged compound: our house, grandma and grandpa's house and an office (for the family biz). This insures that we are always in the company of a number of full and part time inhabitants, including one who is four legged, white and brown, and walks with the limp of a dog who has been around for a while. Second, we are surrounded in all directions (other than the one-way in) by a network of those aforementioned makeshift houses. Disturbing in the sense that we are, at times, without privacy, backed up against piles of fire kindling awaiting a stray spark, yet comforting in the sense that there is always help nearby (from the in-laws, that is, and not from the drunk, karaoke singing, loogie hocking neighbor over the wall).

So, here we are, nestled deep inside the endless maze of Bangkok, living with our extended family on a small invisible street, surrounded (closely) by the smells and noises of Thai life, and some of the tastiest food in the city. (To be continued….)

fasten your seatbelts

I live in a city of many flavors and emotions.  A single day here can easily take me from an unparalleled high to a frustrating low and then back up again to the sweetest, most happy place.   One could say that it is the perfect scenario:  a balancing act, that, if you get it right, can leave you perfectly calm and peaceful and on even ground at the end of every day.  

I have never lived anywhere so unpredictable, yet so regular in its rhythms.  Street vendors regularly set up shop on the same spot, at the same time, every day.  Yet, on the one day that you are craving the best Pad Thai, they just happen to be missing.  Neighbors never fail to hold court on the bridge over the small canal that signals the entrance to our street.   Yet, when you need someone to help you make that turn without scraping the bottom of the car on that concrete bridge, no one is around.  The legendary traffic is ever-present.  Yet, when you finally decide to leave early, it is nowhere to be found.

I often feel that I really have no control.  It is this wonderful, crazy city that is in charge.

So, it is now, on the night of my 37^th birthday, that I finally begin to put it all down in writing.  I have promised these tales to so many, who have patiently waited to hear all about our life here in Bangkok .  I have a list of stories that I feel the need to tell to someone, just so I can prove that they have really happened.  They are crazy and beautiful and sometimes, just a little bit too much to handle.  Hopefully, just the fact that I’m ‘saying it out loud’ will make it all seem a bit more real.

I cannot promise that this will be a regular occurrence (these posts, that is), but one thing is for sure:  you will wish you were here and wonder why anyone would want to be here, at the same time.   You will see that my adopted city of Bangkok can be so many flavors and emotions – all in the same day.