death cab ride home

yo man...again, sorry for the delay but we have been humping it of late. traveled back up to the big mango that is bangkok and then had got hijacked on my day off (hahahaha) to get zee papers and then a press conference that was actually just a dog show (jim brolin and spencer and some other bitch in this movie who has no credits were told to sit still while the thai press grilled us on thailand and how great the movie we have yet to finish/see is). anyway, it was all a build up to traffic. we think we have it bad in la la land. man. if i complain about only getting a bit slow on the ten, i will remember my commutes here. an hour and a half this morning to go just about 35 kilometers. granted, we did end up in a riot zone. i think the international press is all over the story, but there are giant demonstrations going on in bangkok at the moment (thai's are crazy about the king-i mean, hitlerian levels of devotion-more on this later). this morning on the way to work, we managed to drive directly through the protest and right past the police lines. we were the only "civilian" vehicle around for a mile. nice work guys. literally, right in the middle of about 200 cops, we just drove right in (obviously) without the proper identification. all of this was a great lesson in how things work around here with traffic and cops (also, fyi sean, the cops wear really tight trousers. i mean, really tight. kind of weird and femme. and brown.) while the cars are stopped. you think things would mellow out when they get moving but not at all...i actually saw a guy riding a bicycle down the highway. the wrong way. in the fast lane. wow. and it wasn't just a bike, it was actually some type of storefront cart. and no one cares. this was a major six laner, too, not some version of sunset. we are talking the 101 here man. and on our way home, spencer and i were just cracking our chang beers (yes, it has come to getting beers for the ride home and i learned tonight that i can open a beer with a razor-spencer called me macgeyver!!) when the driver actually stopped on the highway. from about 90 k/hour to a dead stop in about 500 feet. i don't think the tires squeeled, but they may have. we held our brews tight and wondered what we had just avoided hitting. the answer: nothing. he simply had missed his exit and rather than doing all those pesky safe things like taking the next exit and turning around, he just put on the hazards and went in reverse. down the highway. we clutched our giant bottles and said, repeatedly, it was a nice life, nice to have met you, etc. we, of course, were turned around watching the oncoming headlights careen our way. they all just kind of feathered around us. nary a honk was heard. we were in reverse sean. on the highway. the wonders never cease here.

the jungle

Sean:

Sorry to belie the title of your blog but since I am taking you on this tour of southeast asia, it would be almost impossible not to talk about the power of the jungle in this place. It is everywhere here, doing what jungles do-taking over the roads and throbbing into the cities and being dense and green and powerful. They are unimaginable. When I have been hiking around (whether at work or play-tons of scenes of the movie have been shot in the coffee fields south of krabi and “coffee field” actually means jungle with coffee trees in it ((by the way, coffee trees are kind of cool and only grow about 9-10 feet. Quite pretty. And the coffee harvest here lasts only 3 weeks a year, so for the other 49 weeks, they just do their thing and the farmers grow palms (for oil) or rubber (for rubbers))), one has some of the same feelings when surfing, “I am in nature’s hands,” or “ I am soooo small.” Something like this. The sun is blocked out and the earth is always sweating and pulsing and air is suffocating. Another thought that comes to my head is what the hell this place would have been like if someone had been shooting at me. Maybe because we were boys who played war and are just old enough to have never really had to deal with one, it is easy to slip into that mindset. You feel the 60 pound pack. You hear dick ritter yelling at you (well, I guess not him since he was sipping mai tai’s in the city). You can’t help but raise your umbrella to the “ready” position. What our boys must have gone through. I am not getting political or patriotic, but man, we were fucked. Not in the wrong (read another blog for that shit), just fucked. You could train for a thousand years in the states but until that first wave of jungle grabs your ankles, you have no idea. These people have been here for thousands of years and it is deeply in their blood. They take the heat and the effort and the secrets of the place to heart. It is theirs. We had no business trying to take it (again, not in the political sense, just the actual sense) because we could not possibly get it away from them. If you could just hear the jungle hum and zip as you simply pound through it. The way the logs look sturdy and then explode under your foot-the termites the size of your big toe. The things that slither off as you round a corner. This place is remarkable on so many levels but you cannot help thinking of how foreign it is on so many levels. A million of our boys came over and felt that same thing just 40 years ago. Our mother’s friends. Just one generation off. I am sorry they died here. I am sorry they had to hate this place. i am sorry they never got the chance to just glide through the jungle and memorize the patterns of the falling leaves and the centipede trails. To the Vietnamese, it was just a part of their long history of war. No better or worse than any other. But to Americans, it looms large in our heads and hearts. I kind of think I know why now, even if most Americans don’t.

finally some real waterfall pics

the pictures are working.  sort of.  mutiny is on the bounty around here.  bad internet.  long hours.  no days off.  seriously, seven days a week and 15 hours days.  not a good combination.  there is a distinct "you are not selling xerox copiers" feeling in the air.  guh.  also, the little people in the previous shot are full grown adults.  not kids.  good times.

big small things/small big things

pone

Sean:

Man. It has been hectic around here. Thais don’t like hectic. They kind of panic and forget things. It is not in their nature. In so many ways, I feel like this is the Italy of Asia. Without all the yelling and the lip hair. And good fashion. Oh, and they kind of don’t have any major works of art that matter to me. But other than that, just the same. They have a slow, lackadaisical approach to life, especially when it comes to eating. They take their time and enjoy every bite. We seem to live by this motto in the states and it is nice to see it as a countrywide practice over here. Every girl knows the best dish on the menu and they always finish their plates. They tend to like beer. And spicy food. That makes every meal kind of fun. But when things pick up, like on a movie set, they tend to forget some major things. When I put my shoes on this morning for a nice little scene in the airport, I felt a bit of something in the front of my loafers. i took it off and gave it a good shake and into the heal plopped a rather large portion of corn bread. Or possibly corn pone. There was certainly some weight to it-the fat content must have been higher than usual. Maybe some of my sweat had congealed things a bit. But man. Corn bread? In my shoe? I just lolled over to the director and made him hold his hand out and dumped the contents into his palm. He kind of freaked and then laughed…the night before, there was a lovely bit where a dog was supposed to “eat” my shoe. The corn bread was the bait. And the thais just kind of forgot it. Huh. They like things a bit slower around here I guess.

Blog Hijack #3 / Lucky #17

In case you were wondering what the future holds, Sean, Thailand knows. Fortune telling is conveniently located in your neighborhood temple. And, so you know, Buddha doesn't go in for any of that tea leaves/palm reading malarkey. Buddha is efficient. He uses a bulletin board. Its 28 fortunes correspond to numbered lacquered sticks, one of which you have drawn from a cup. And you can re-pick if you don't like your lot in life. I liked mine, #17, just fine so no need to double dip:

"Bright future and success is yours. Never in a lifetime that you'll be wretched. You'll be loved and kind by all. You'll always have good fortune like a fruitful plant never lack of fruits. Asking of a spouse, you surely will find one. If you're expecting a child, it's certain that a baby will be born. Your cousins and escaping debtors will be in touch. For you who are involved in a lawsuit, you're likely to win the case."

Hear that, Sean? Never in a lifetime that I'll be wretched. I am like a fruitful plant that never lack of fruits.

Never.

don't go chasing waterfalls

Hey man…

Hope you are enjoying the east coast and your family…you should have your own blog. And it better be funny, damnit.

Things are getting a bit busier around here. Working the looooong days. 15 hours easy and none of those pesky sag rules that keep me in the sleep and trailer. Just a chair (if I am lucky) and 5 hours off or so for the weekend. We pulled a hard night on Saturday until 5:30 am which basically killed our day off Sunday. The call for Monday: a dreadful 6 am. Guh. I tried to make myself sleep and then tried to make myself wake up on Sunday so I could get to bed that night and have a decent night’s rest. Spencer and I decided to hit up one of the islands just off the coast here but the rains had a different idea. The sky was dark and turning and we were beat down. Our driver, kwan, recommended we go to the waterfall just 50 k away and we begrudgingly agreed. Sometimes it is easier to just say yes than to try and have things translated, especially things like I am not able to hold my eyes open or riding in the back of this van on these less than paved roads is hurting my neck. But alas, we made it. And man. It changed the whole of my (minute) weekend. Turns out this waterfall is a national park and is a seven tiered wonder spanning almost 600 meters. Spencer and nueng (one of the wonders that is Thailand) climbed up past kids doing back flips into the shallow pools near the bottom. We thought that was kind of it but then noticed the idea of a path into the jungle. I am not sure when the last time you hiked in the jungle was, but I am sure you did not wear flip flops and shorts. It does not make the climbing any easier. And I say climb because that is what it turned out to be for much of the way up. Hand over hand, tight, winding path that just disappeared into the clouds overhead. The three of us stopped about 30 minutes up the way and spencer made a dash for the pool at the base of the third tier. Nueng joined him. I had to press on. Buy stock in rainbow flip flops. Man, they held their own up there. Slipping and sliding and dripping sweat for another 30 minutes I up, I was beat and, honestly, a bit scared of the jungle. By now, it was not the tame, friendly place near the bottom. Dark, loud, and buggy as fuck. I kept stepping onto logs that just burst from my weight, the insides ravaged long ago by some termite hoard, each one the size of you thumb. By the time I reached the pool where spencer was, he was almost ready to get out. He jumped right back in thought when I learned we could jump off the cliff over looking the pool. Then he jumped. Then he made me climb higher and jump. Then we gave the camera to nueng and did flips for her. The sweat from the climb and the mineral water rejuvenated us in so many ways. We ended up staying for hours.

We thought our day was over, but it only got better on the drive home when we learned our new driver was also a local cop. And as you know, sean, cops always get the best deals and know “the praces wit da best taste.” After a quick swim in the hotel pool and shower, we headed to his local joint (he carried his police walkie and his gun) for some southern thai food. As I think I have said, southern thai food is spicier, heartier, and more seafood oriented. We hit all three of these. Dish after dish of amazing flavors. fried fish with crispy garlic. Prawns the size of small birds floating in coconut milk which we grabbed with our hands and sucked to the shell. Spencer was consuming ice cubes whole to cool the fire. That is when I got the nickname “pha lang mahasachan,” or miracle foreigner. The owner of the restaurant came out (he is a driven fan?!) and gave me a house special he wanted me to try. Before I knew it, my first real fear factor food was there: sautéed cricket pods from the coconut tree. They were fried with garlic and thai chilis (natch) and looked every bit the part. But, when in Rome…I was first up and after the initial explosion of juices, I was actually quite pleased. Kwan, the cop driver, hit his. Spencer tried to wriggle his way out, but I was not having it. He said he does not have to it again but was not totally turned off. None of the thai gals got involved. I think we drank 700 chang beers (elephant in thai, malt liquor) and finished with a street bought coconut to end the night. I slept like a child. Another thai day that just brought the unexpected and surpassed any of my wildest thoughts…


nb: spencer is old. therefore, he has not figured out how to work the interweb in this country and has yet to email me pics. they will be up soon. in the meantime, i pulled this waterfall pic from the web to whet your appetite. i could not find pics of the bugs to whet it even more.