Cooking Ruins Restaurants

One of the things I try to do when I travel is learn to cook something.  Bronte helped to nurture this in me - about halfway through my first year in Korea I asked her if she knew somewhere I might learn some Korean cooking, and she volunteered to do it herself.  I'm pretty sure the time we spent together in her kitchen, cooking sundubu, cucumber kimchi, mandu, and many other things cemented our friendship.

Since then, I've taken cooking courses in Jordan, China, Nepal, and here in Mongolia, as well as picking up Greek dishes from Bronte after she moved to Piraeus.  In fact, not learning to cook any Thai cuisine when Curly Sue and I went in 2006 was one of my great travel regrets, and I decided that I really needed to rectify it when I went to Chiang Mai last winter.  Baan Thai was recommended by Lonely Planet and had brochures at my guesthouse, and when Dougie Poo spoke glowingly of the cooking lesson he once did, I decided I had to go for it.

 It was heaven.  I learned to make pad thai, spring rolls, tom ka gai, panaeng gai, and fried bananas.  They also gave us a cookbook with all our recipes, all the other ones that were offered, and ones that weren't offered but that I'm incredibly grateful for.  Once upon a time I went to the Thai place in Yuldong and ate bananas in steamed coconut milk, and thought it was a dream, because I'd never seen them anyplace else.  I now know how to cook them.

However, there's a caveat to this story.  When I was younger my cousin used to talk about how she could make alfredo better than any restaurant she knew.  I found this obnoxious because - hello! - it's a restaurant.  If it wasn't good at what it serves, it wouldn't remain open.  I didn't get it until after I came back from Thailand, and considered going to Bangkok for dinner, until I realized I could make a better pad thai than they could.

It stopped me in my tracks - I had become that food snob who didn't want to go to a restaurant because my food is better.  The ironic thing is, I don't really "like" to cook.  About once a month I invite my friends over so that I have an excuse to thoroughly clean my apartment, but if I don't have someone to tell me how delicious everything was, all the effort of getting ingredients and putting them together only to have to clean it all up seems like too big a hassle.

And that thought helped me to get over my food snobbery.  In the end, my laziness is my redemption.  I may be able to cook a better pad thai, but on any given day, it's less work to order on Songo.

WHICH REMINDS ME!  Sorry, I haven't been much of a blogger lately, but ohmygosh, one of the bestest things to happen in UB in a long time is the arrival of our own Sherpa's!  In Shanghai, Sherpa's was a company that delivered food from a variety of restaurants, and it kept my lazy ass from starving on more than one occasion when it was too cold (haha) to be bothered going outside.  Well, here in UB it's Songo, but the fact that I can get lunch delivered to the school from somewhere other than Round Table0 is a lifesaver.  Apparently Pizza Hut and KFC are both coming to Zaisan, but why would that matter when someone will bring me sushi from Miko?!?

Day Tripper

I'm not a big believer in guided tours.  At best, they're the most expedient way of getting from point A to point B.  At worst, they're misinformative and don't give you enough time to see the things you really want to see.  However, (as I've said before) sometimes they are the only way to see what you really want to see, so I found myself getting in a minibus with 12 other foreigners Wednesday morning, bound for Chiang Rai.

I did not care about seeing the hot spring along the way.  You know I love hot springs, probably more than a lot of you, but a quick foot soak doesn't begin to cut it for me.  I had a look around at all the shops, used the loo, and ate a banana pancake (because someone didn't have time for breakfast) but it wasn't doing it for me.

I was similarly unimpressed with the Myanmar border and the Golden Triangle, a place on the Mekong River where Myanmar, Thailand, and Laos meet up.  I've crossed land borders before and I saw Israel on the other side of the Dead Sea, and besides, I was going to Myanmar the next day.  Those two stops were two hours of my life I would have rather spent differently.

The Black House, on the other hand, was an interesting surprise.
Thawan Duchanee, the recently deceased Thai artist, designed the place as an interpretation of hell (this is even more interesting when you realize that his teacher was Chalermchai Kositpipat, who designed the real reason I signed up for this tour).  There are actually a lot of buildings on the grounds, all of them painted black with red tiles on the roof and filled with all sorts of pointy bits.  It also has a lot of dead animals.  Like, a LOT.  Supposedly the all died of natural causes, but still.  I have a dog skull given to me by Fire Marshall on my desk - I teach Georgia O'Keeffe, it works - and it still makes me a little squeamish if I think about it too much.  The buffalo horns, crocodile skin, and even elephant skeleton definitely help you to feel like you've landed yourself in hell...as do the carvings on the doors of human-ish creatures with a stranger assortment of penises than you'll find in a Korean bathhouse...

There were two things I actually went into this tour for - hill tribes and the White Temple.  Sadly, we didn't spend too much time with either or them.  On our way to the Myanmar border, we turned off onto a dirt road, which we followed a way between rice paddies.  Up here the bright red clay used to be poppy country, although Thailand was successful in promoting other crops.  The people we visited are the Kayan Lahwi, and were originally from Burma (which I've been calling Myanmar because that's what it is now), but many now hold Thai passports.  For a variety of reasons the practice is fading out, but we still saw plenty of children wearing them.

I probably don't think as hard as I should about things before I do them - Heaven knows it's something my Dad's complained about for a good three decades.  At lunch (which we finally got to eat around 3 o'clock!) I was talking with some of the other women on the tour, one of whom hadn't gone to see the Kayan in protest to the fact that they were somewhat exploited.  I can see what she's saying, although I don't know what the truth is.  Are they happy to be a tourist attraction?  Do they have choice in their lives?  I'm not sure.  I tried to be respectful, and I made sure to buy some of their handicrafts.  Whether or not that's enough, I'm not sure, but I'm still glad I got to see them.

And that, good friends, brings me to the absolute highlight of my tour: Wat Rong Khun, or the White Temple.  (By the way, if you were wondering, no, this is not the order we did things in - just the arbitrary way I'm writing about it).  I'd seen pictures of the White Temple before and thought it was just about the most amazing thing I'd ever seen.  And then I got there and got to actually see it.

Wat Rong Khun is Chalermchai Kositpipat's interpretation of the rebirth cycle, including Heaven and Hell.  The amount of detail on this monster is just unbelievable.  The front of the temple has this installation, which seems like a pond, but has no water, just about a billion grasping hands.  Around the sides of the pond are a variety of demonic creatures gnawing on whatever they got, 'cause demons don't give a ----.  You go over the bridge leading to the actual temple, and find yourself in a much calmer place, closer to enlightenment.

Pictures aren't allowed in the interior of the temple itself, which continues the external themes in a much more colorful way.  It was damaged earlier this year by an earthquake, but fortunately was open and in the process of restoration.  It was interesting to see the artists working on repairing the murals inside the temple.  I was particularly intrigued by the Hell portion, which was on the side with the door you enter through, as it had a variety of pop culture icons - a Minion, Neo from the Matrix, Superman, and Ben Ten, among others that I can't remember now.  I think I could have spent all day there, but I only had thirty minutes.

All that said, I think the best moment came when we were on our way back to Chiang Mai.  Night was fallen and it was dark as we hurried back along the roads, when we passed a typical, Northern Thai temple.  It was not lit up, but all the mirrors used to decorate it were catching light from everywhere - street lights, car lights, moon light.  As we zoomed past, it sparkled, like a mirage, like fragments of a dream.  And this is the worst thing about tours: the fact that you can't just demand that they stop the car, let you get out and take a look, take a photo - there are 11 other passengers (not counting the guide's sister who had her hands all over the driver, ewww) who are ready to get back to their hotel for the night.  Bummer.  But if I'm lucky when I get back to Chiang Mai on the 28th I'll be able to track down one to shoot.  There's certainly enough that I should find one if I persist...

Ohhhh Maiiiii!

Well, my brain demanded it, demanded that instead of going to bed early like I probably should, I get started writing about my trip.  When I bought my tablet netbook thing I justified it by telling myself how easy it would be to bring on trips and I'd never need an internet cafe again!  Well, it hasn't exactly worked out that way.  Here I am on this trip, and while I should have been updating faithfully - the computer is all systems go, I have the right memory card, blah blah blah - I have another piece of writing I've been working on, and that's been like pulling teeth.  So.  Ahem.  On with the blogging.

Monday night I finally made it to Chiang Mai.  It was not exactly the smoothest...well, I guess I can't call it a start since I'd already been out of Mongolia three days at that point.  I didn't arrive on a good note, I guess.  The flight was delayed about a half hour and when my luggage FINALLY appeared on the carousel, I was done.  Brand-new Carlos Ruiz-Zafon book in hand, I grabbed it and rushed off to get a cab to the guesthouse I was staying at for the first night.  He took me to the place Dougie-Poo had suggested, a guesthouse he'd stayed at way back in the day called Julie's.  I'd emailed ahead of time and they said they had a single room with shared bathroom available.  However, when I got there, that was not the case.  The guy I'd talked to said I should have contacted them in advance, that they didn't check their email that often, and although I was livid that they made it MY fault in spite of the fact that they had a room that morning (not to mention the fact that they told a single woman to go wandering looking for different digs at 11 at night), there was not much I could do except go to their next-door competitor, JJ Guesthouse, where - once I managed to drag someone out of sleep long enough to ask - they were happy to put me up.  It was only when I was settling unto my room that I realized I'd left Marina, my brand new book, behind at some point.  Damn.

When I finally got up and started wandering the old city, I found Chiang Mai very much to my liking.  It doesn't have that unmanageable, hectic feel to it that Bangkok does; it's much more laid back.  I wandered around in a loop from JJ's, stopping into temples and keeping an eye out for someplace to eat.  Eventually I made my way back to where I started and sat down to eat basically everything on the menu at the Mickeybunny cafe, which had smelled appealing when I first got going.  While I ate ALL THE FOODS! I spent some time trying to figure out where I was going until 3, when I was set to meet Dougie-Poo, and eventually made a plan to get out of the city the next day.  Dougie-Poo and his wife were still working (like pretty much everyone in education except us), and I decided if I wanted to get out of the city for a day - and I kind of did - that it would be better to do it the next day rather than waiting until I came back through, when they were off work.  I saw a few more temples, then came back to the guesthouse, booked the next day's trip, and caught a tuk-tuk to Dara Academy, where I met up with my friends.

Dougie-Poo and I worked together back in Korea.  He's been living in Chiang Mai for about a billion years, minus a couple of stints in Korea to save money.  As we talked that evening, we both agreed that there was something about GDA - I've seen more of the people I worked with there since leaving than I have anywhere else, although that could just be the Stockholm Syndrome working its magic.  At any rate, Dougie-Poo and his lovely wife were gracious enough to put me up and feed me and take me back to the guesthouse at oh-dark-hundred the next day, and I'm looking forward to seeing them for realz when I get back to Chiang Mai on the 28th.

Bang-COCK!

If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you've probably already got a good idea of the fact that I am not a luxury traveler.  I have a hierarchy of traveling needs when booking hotels:
1. Safety
2. Cost
3. Cleanliness
4. Convenience
Here's the thing - why would I spend a hundred dollars on a posh hotel when I could stay five nights in a basic guesthouse for the same price?  It doesn't add up.  And people who talk about "pampering" themselves make me cringe.  I hate that word - I'm not a big baby.  I prefer the term indulge.

Well, my hierarchy of traveling needs led me to choose to indulge on this, my day in Bangkok en route to Chiang Mai.  I've done Khao San Road - in a former, non-blogging life with my friend Curly Sue - and while it's a fun place, I chose to go all out with a night in the Swissotel.  It's possible that it was because the idea of staying here appealed to the blood of Swiss ancestors flowing through my veins...but it's more likely due to the fact that the Chao Mae Tuptim shrine is in their parking lot.

Either way, I was delighted with my choice to indulge when I got in from the airport last night at 11:30 (thank you, delayed flight).  The room was impeccable, the bed was softer than my own, the towels were fluffy, and the internet was fast.  After a shower and a nightcap of coke (which I did NOT drink out of the can like a barbarian for the first time in forever, and it actually tasted fine), I got to sleep.  This morning I decided to splash out on their breakfast buffet.  It was not included in the price of my room, but what the hell did I care?  I am on va.  Ca.  Tion.  I am choosing to indulge.

After breakfast I wandered through the lush green grounds on the way back to the shrine.  It's a little hard to find but here's a good video on YouTube that shows you how to get there from the lobby of the hotel.  It's quite small compared to some of the other shrines I've been to - I'd make a joke about how this is Asia, but then, the other two were in Korea and Japan...

The little house is meant to hold the spirit of Chao Mae Tuptim, which may or may not have something to do with a large ficus tree in the shrine.  The details on the sign were vague, and had only the barest allusion to the huge wooden penises strewn about.

I was particularly intrigued by the lingams sitting between the tiny, doll-like shrine attendants.  I know enough about Hindu symbolism to recognize Shiva's schlong.  I've always connected Thailand with Buddhism, which has its roots in Hinduism, admittedly, but apparently there are still a fair number of believers in Thailand, mostly in the cities.  I thought about bringing an offering, but couldn't convince myself to hit InsaDONG (where I've seen phalli for sale before) yesterday, and only thought of the candle I brought back from the Kanamara Matsuri when I was on the flight here from Korea.

The Chao Mae Tuptim shrine may not be the biggest penis shrine I've been to, but we all know it's not the size that matters, but how you use it, right?  In this case, I used it for a good excuse to stay at a posh hotel.  I'm going to need to go check out in a minute, but I have the rest of the day to laze by their pool, which is beautiful and with all the trees has plenty of shade for us vampiric ginger types.  Indulge?  Indeed.