We arrived to the capital of Vietnam mid-afternoon on the 12th, and drove the 45 minutes south into the heart of the city. If Saigon is the business capital of Vietnam, Hanoi (Hanoi to us, but Ha Noi in Vietnam as each syllable is a word in Vietnamese) is considered the political and cultural capital of the country. 35% of its citizens work directly for the government (and many more work for government-owned businesses). We were surprised to learn that since most everyone goes home for lunch, there are 4 rush hours per day --- we couldn’t really tell the difference, as the traffic seemed heavy (and crazy) all the time.
The next morning we headed out for the three hour drive to Ha Long Bay. One of the country’s five UNESCO World Heritage sites, the 3,000+ limestone islands (or karsts) sticking straight up out of the Gulf of Tonkin are beautiful and majestic. Once arriving at the Bay’s busy harbor, our tour was 24 hours on the Bay, starting at noon; it seemed like most companies operated on this schedule, as the place was packed with boats and disembarking/embarking passengers.
We cruised south on the Jewel of the Bay II (that's it to the left) into the heart of the islands. Other than the four of us, there were three other couples onboard, and all of whom spoke German. Thankfully, they spoke English while in our presence. Our first stop was a grotto, through which you could climb to the top of a small rock outcrop.
In late afternoon, we stopped at the floating fishing village of Cua Van. With 126 families living on floating houses or boats, our quick kayak trip through the village showed us another different way of life (complete with the floating school that was just letting out for the day). Children learn to swim almost before they learn to eat. That evening we found a quiet cove and moored for the night, with the karsts rising up all around us.
After breakfast the next morning, we were on our kayaks again by 8:15 for a memorable experience. First, we paddled through what is called the Bat Cave (I got bat pooped) into a wide lagoon. The cave was about 2 meters off the water, so a small
motor launch (carrying the rest of our passengers) could also go through the cave. Our guide who was kayaking with us asked us if we wanted a somewhat more dangerous adventure, and we of course said yes (Claire was out of earshot J). He took us through another cave where twice we had to lay flat on our kayaks (the clearance was less than a foot in one spot). Again, we exited the cave into another lagoon, and our guide
said “welcome to wonderland!” He was spot on; the lagoon was untouched, and it was cool that the only way into both of these small bodies of water was through the caves. We were sad to have to head back to the boat; since the kayaking was easy (no wind, no tide), we felt we could have paddled along all day. A few hours later we were back in the harbor, passing other passengers who were headed out for probably the same experience as ours. Later that afternoon we arrived back at our hotel in Hanoi. After a walk around the Hoan Kiem Lake (girls) and a hacky sack game at a nearby park (boys)(the Vietnamese call it “Cao”), our kids almost fell asleep during dinner after a very full day.
Hanh (our guide) and Coung (our driver) collected us the next morning (Saturday the 15th) for a full day of being tourists in Hanoi. Our first stop was Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum, which with all of the surrounding buildings (Presidential palace, HCM’s House on Stilts, botanical gardens, etc.) is equivalent to the Mall in Washington, D.C. Passing by HCM’s body lying in state, Scott, Carson and I got in trouble for not having our hands by our sides (Nervous Nelly was a quick study, and of course didn’t cause problems); the guards at the mausoleum take their jobs quite seriously, and the subsequent tone is quite reverential.
As we were walking through the sites, we passed the national ceremony commemorating the 35th anniversary of the Battle of Hanoi. In 1972, the U.S. bombed Hanoi for 12 straight days with B-52 bombers, destroying as much as 75% of the city. Although I am sure that there were others there, it felt like we were the only Americans (and we wondered what the many war veterans in the crowd thought of us). Our questions led our guide to give us a little history on HCM, which was fascinating when viewed in the perspective of the immediate post-WWII times. Suffice it to say that the Vietnamese view their quest for independence with much pride, and as we have found, it is so interesting to learn the other side of a story.
As an aside, throughout our visit here we had many discussions about the meaning of communism. It clearly used to have both a political and economic meaning in this country, but today, the term applies mainly to the governmental structure. While Vietnam is still a one-party government, and certain freedoms are limited, its economy is “free market” based (i.e., it’s heading toward capitalism). Entrepreneurialism is fast-growing, opportunity seems to abound, and the government is steadily “securitizing” (issuing IPO’s in) many governmental-owned enterprises.
In addition to the above-mentioned celebration, Saturday the 15th was also important because it was “helmet day”. As you will recall, we had marveled at the number of scooters in every part of the country; before the 15th, probably 10% of the riders wore helmets, a luxury that ended with helmet day. As we toured around the city on this day when a national helmet law went into effect, we were honestly surprised to see almost uniform compliance (and early in the day we saw a lot of shops selling helmets!).
After a few more tourist stops, we had a wonderful grown-up lunch at Cha Ca Long (i.e., the kids weren’t too happy). The well-known restaurant only serves one dish, a table-prepared fried fish dish over greens, sprouts, herbs, peppers and rice noodles (and one can only find the fish in Hanoi’s Red River). Claire and I had anticipated the meal and we were not disappointed (and Scott and Carson were very patient). We then found cyclos for a tour around the Hanoi Old Quarter, streets
jam-packed with people, traffic and merchants of all kinds (with specific streets for specific types of products). Not satisfied yet, we did some walking-shopping, and our touring day finally ended with a water puppet show.
The video to the right is from our cyclo tour (and is just a taste of the Ha Noi traffic). Note the guy on the white scooter talking on his phone in the middle of the intersection, and the small (and common) bump with the girls in orange.
We are now onboard the flight from Hanoi to Beijing, from where we will fly to Chicago and then on to North Carolina. Obviously, by the time you read this, we will be in W-S, trying to get used to the cold (we’ve not worn socks in four weeks). We leave again on January 4th for Phase III through Central and South America. One big time bummer is that while we were in Thailand, I learned that it is time for my plane’s engines to get rebuilt. Once per year, airplanes have to go through an “annual” maintenance inspection, and during this year’s annual, the engines failed compression checks. After scrambling over the Thanksgiving holiday, my mechanic Brian found that we couldn’t get the re-build job completed in time for our trip. After pouting for a few days, we resigned ourselves to changing around the trip somewhat (thank you Alice) and flying commercially.
We hope to see many of you over the next few weeks. Happy Holidays!
We arrived into Vietnam on December 7th. As we drove from the airport into the city, it was rush hour on Friday afternoon, and we saw everything and more that we had heard about Vietnamese traffic and driving. 12 years ago, before the lifting of the U.S. trade embargo, bicycles were the primary vehicular traffic in this city and in most of the country. As the economy has boomed over the last decade (and after the SE Asia financial crisis around 1997), motorcycles and scooters have taken over, and the view from within the traffic is arresting. We wondered how they never hit each other, and we discussed the “swarm theory” relative to flying birds, insects, etc. However, by the end of our stay, we had seen that this theory didn’t always work, as even one of our vans sideswiped a scooter (and both kept driving).
We were only in Saigon one night before heading north. That afternoon, we made fast stops at the National Reunification Palace (formerly called the National Independence Palace), Notre Dame Cathedral, the main Post Office, and a craft shop specializing in lacquer products. The effects of 100+ years of French colonization are unmistakable in Saigon, with wide and beautiful streets, French colonial buildings, the above-referenced cathedral, and a Post Office designed by Gustav Eiffel that opened in the same year as his more famous tower. We also learned that like in our country, there are some north-south differences, with the ardent pro-government and nationalist citizens calling the place Ho Chi Minh City, while those possibly remembering an older time, favoring more of a free market and/or western ideals refer to the city as Saigon.
We got a great history lesson at the Reunification Palace, which was the place that the south ceremonially lost the war on April 30, 1975, as northern tanks crashed through the gates of the then capitol of the South Vietnamese government. Coming from Cambodia, we remembered that this date was only two weeks after the Khmer Rouge conquered Phnom Penh, and what a dizzying time this period must have been for Southeast Asia.
Saturday morning we headed for the airport and Danang. Our final destination, the coastal fishing village of Hoi An, is 30 km south of the Danang airport. As our taxi drove south, we saw that the attitudes of the city drivers carried out to the country, as our driver was honking and passing constantly; he literally could not go more than 10 seconds without blowing his horn at something (at least until Claire told him to slow down and ixnay the horn).
Hoi An is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and is commonly described as an ancient village where Chinese, Japanese and Vietnamese cultures intersected and then stood still --- the village remains like it was many, many
years ago, and was a great place to explore. It was much larger than we anticipated, with our now favorite market going on forever. We were stayed out at the beach, which was a 5 minute taxi ride into town (notice how they rake the beach). From our room, we looked out on the South China Sea to the Cham Islands. Like Phuket, even though we were at a beach resort, we kept pretty busy, and didn’t spend as much time hanging out around the pool or beach as we might have.
On Sunday, we headed north to visit the Marble Mountains, five appropriately named mountains representing the five elements of the world. Climbing to the top of “Water”, we overlooked the (in)famous China Beach, where U.S. soldiers R&R’ed during the war while the North Vietnamese used these same mountains (just hundreds of meters away) as hideouts, field hospitals, etc. We then visited a Cham Museum, the Chams being the native settlers of the southern part of the country. As we discovered during our Phase One trip, there was lots of western purloining of natural artifacts, this time by the French.
We gave the kids a history lesson on this country’s fascinating and troubled history (including French domination followed closely by our country’s involvement). The more we learned about what is here referred to as the American War, the crazier it seems in retrospect. However, we also discussed how confusing it must be for a country to decide to intervene in the affairs of another, for as we learned last week, the only thing that stopped the Khmer Rouge slaughter next door was the Vietnamese invasion in 1978.
One morning, we got up early to go fishing with a local guide. Khoa, his father and his uncle took on us a drizzly but great lesson through the arts of cast fishing, basket fishing and what can only be called huge net fishing. For the latter, Scott and Carson hopped up on a riverside platform with a wheel that looked like a catapult winch from years ago. As they rolled it in, this gigantic net in front of us rose from the water like something out of a James Bond movie. We maneuvered in the basket
boat underneath bringing in the meager fish that we found (unfortunately, we evidently brought the Tuttle fishing luck to this fisherman). At the end of our morning, we enjoyed a fantastic lunch aboard the boat. We wondered how the best meal we have had in a while could have been prepared on a fishing boat, and we learned that this family also operates the “End of the World” restaurant in a tiny fishing village at the far southern end of the beach peninsula where we were staying. As you might expect, we had a fantastic meal there our last night; as we were their only customers, it felt like we were dinner guests in their home.
In addition to shopping the markets, we visited an orphanage, took another cooking lesson (more like a demonstration) followed by dinner (
we still marvel at the uses of banana leaves!), went to a cultural music and dance performance, stopped in on some museums, visited a shop where they grow silkworms (did you know that 500 – 1,000 meters of thread come from one silkworm cocoon?), and rode around the village a few times with cyclo drivers #19 and #54 (cyclos are “taxis” that look like a wheelchair bolted to the front of a bicycle). The girls got a little beauty treatments, and I got in a great walk on the beach.
During this walk, instead of strolling by resort properties, I walked through the sand in front of fishing villages. Each morning these fishermen get up before daylight, walk over the dunes by their grazing billy goats, paddle their basket boats out through the surf and spend the day just off the coastline laying their nets. It feels like this is the way that they have always done it, riding the waves back to shore at sunset with their catch for the day. I tried to help one fisherman bring in his boat, and was embarrassed to find out that I wasn’t strong enough to do so (and yet he was, although he was a foot shorter, and many pounds lighter, than me). I would grade it an “A” for the attempt and an “F” for the result, other than I probably gave some local family (village?) a good laugh that evening.
Hoi An is a special place, and we enjoyed our time there. It is renowned for tailors and great food, and although we passed on the former, we indulged plenty in the latter. In fact, we were lucky to do so, as just two weeks earlier, the town was flooded by torrential rains, with the Hoi An River reaching to the second floor of many of the old village buildings (some of the businesses had only opened two days before our arrival).
We are now on our way to Hanoi, where we will also hop out to Ha Long Bay for an overnight on a junk, and cruising and kayaking through the majestic limestone mountains karsts sticking up out of the water.
As we flew north from Phnom Penh, we crossed the Tonle’ Sap Lake, the largest lake in Southeast Asia. As we looked down on the lake before landing in Siem Reap, we noticed the “bushes” that were really tree tops in the highly flooded areas along the lake, something that we would learn about a few days later.
Arriving in mid afternoon on the 3rd of December, we didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day. As we rode into town, we were told of how just ten years ago, Siem Reap was a quiet agricultural town. Even with the fantastic Angkor period monuments just to the north, there was virtually no tourism due to the unstable political situation. With Pol Pot’s death in 1998, and the accompanying defeat of many of the Khmer Rouge loyalists, the tourism business in the area came back to life. Construction is now booming, with many gaudy touristy hotels being built along the main drag.
From 800 to 1200 AD, the kingdom of Angkor controlled most, if not all, of Southeast Asia. Its capital was 7 km from present day Siem Reap, and when London was a mere town of 50,000 people, Angkor had more than 1 million inhabitants. Its leaders were god-kings, who built fantastic monuments that were combination temples-shrines-tombs. More than 3,000 were built throughout Southeast Asia, but by far the largest and the most elaborate (not to mention the greatest number) are concentrated near Siem Reap.
We began the next morning with Ta, our guide, and Seng, our driver. We headed straight to the most famous temple, and the largest religious building in the world: Angkor Wat (wat meaning temple). Before entering the site, Ta pulled a no-no for our kids --- he set us down for a talk. It was important and fascinating for us to hear the background on all of these temples, and how the god-kings used deep symbolism in their construction, but the Tuttle kids were getting a little antsy. Then a miracle happened, and as we entered the huge Angkor Wat compound, Carson began taking detailed notes (and we will post her report on the blog shortly)
Surrounding Angkor Wat is a moat, but probably unlike what you are visualizing. Over 5.5 km around, and at 200 meters wide, it looked like a very large river with 90 degree corners. Later that afternoon, we would visit Angkor Thom, where the moat is 12 km long. The Angkor kings believed that god ruled the heavens, that the king ruled the earth, and that these temples were the meeting place for the two. Buildings for humans were made from wood, those for god were made from stone, and the latter is all that survives.
Within Angkor Wat, we found one small room that captured our attention. We called it the Echo Room. If you stood like these three did and hit your chest, the thump sound on the other side of the room was very loud and amplified. However, if you moved to the center of the room (just three feet from the thumpers), the sound completely changed to only the beat of the chest. This of course had no religious or historical significance, and in one of the modern wonders of the world, it was naturally one of our takeaways. We had fun showing the trick to a few American ladies who followed on our heels.
Unfortunately, we could not climb to the top of Angkor Wat (they are putting in stairs). We got to the middle level, and stared up for awhile (and received a thorough explanation of many of the sandstone carvings). After three hours wandering around Angkor Wat, we headed for lunch and a siesta, and then it was off to Angkor Thom.
Many of the early Angkor kings were Hindu, and the Hindu gods of Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma, Garuda, Naga, etc. are throughout the temples. The later builder of Angkor Thom, Jayavarman VII, reintroduced Buddhism to the
kingdom, but he and his architects did it cleverly. His Buddha statues could also be considered as Hindu figures, so when later Hindu warriors destroyed all signs of Buddhism in
Angkor, the Jayavarman VII Buddha’s remained. Jayavarman VII’s temple, Bayon, has hundreds of Buddha-esque
statues in all facial expressions. It was captivating.
Wanting to see the “changing light” of Angkor Wat at sunset, we stopped by the way back to town. While I was snapping photos, the kids and Claire were introduced to a hacky sack like game called Say (pronounced “sei”). Sort of like a badminton cock, but with a feather on top and a spring on the bottom, you play it just like hacky sack. This has turned out to be our favorite activity and a great ice breaker to play with others; we played it everyday.
The next morning came early, as we got up at 4:45 AM so that we could climb to the top of a wat and watch the sunrise. Less than an hour later, we
had ascended to the tip top of Pre Rup. From there we watched a beautiful but relatively quick sunrise, before the sun headed into low lying clouds.
We then drove north to Bantey Srei, a very small temple
by comparison to some of the big daddies, but one whose engraved art is very well preserved. The engravings
in these temples served much of the same purpose as other religious art, that being to teach religious lessons to worshipers who were probably illiterate. After Bantey Srei, we had breakfast (and quick game of Say) and then headed back toward Angkor Thom for a special treat.
The Cambodian jungle is an impressive growth machine. From the Angkor decline in the 1200’s to the so-called discovery of the place by the French in the 1860’s, the
jungle covered up many of the shrines.
The Cambodians have cleared the vegetation from most of the temples, but the temple of Ta Proem is one where the vegetation had taken over; in the battle of man versus nature, nature won, and the result is fascinating. Again,
it was hard to capture in photos how the root structures of these trees, specifically the Sprung type of Banyon tree, merged in and around the stone, where removing the trees would have caused even further temple destruction. If you’ve seen Lara Craft in the Tomb Raider movie, you will recognize this place. Other than all of the tourists, it was great.
After Ta Proem, it was lunch time, and we called it a touring day, spending the afternoon doing homework by, and swimming in, the pool.
Siem Reap’s downtown area has come a long way in just a few years, and there is a central area with closed off streets, strolling visitors, and restaurants galore. We ate in and/or visited downtown every night (via tuk tuk all the time). Next door to the restaurant row is one of the many Southeast Asian outdoor markets, where strolling and haggling are great fun. Although the Cambodian currency is the Riel, the U.S. dollar is the de facto currency, and all bargaining is done in the dollar. The ATM’s give dollars, and the only time you see a Riel is when your change is less than $1 (there are 4,000 Riel to the dollar, so you quickly learn that 1,000 Riel is a quarter).
On our third day in the area, we decided to get away from the tourists and their buses. Ta’s family was visiting, so we all decided to head 30 minutes to the southeast, to the floating fishing village of Kampong Khleang. During the drive through the countryside, it was wonderful to see the everyday Cambodians (i.e., those not involved in the tourism industry), and how they lived and worked. Almost all homes were on stilts, few had power, but many had TV and lighting (from car batteries).
Kampong Khleang is on the Tonle’ Sap Lake; during monsoon season, the level of the lake regularly rises by as much as eight meters (!), so of course, every building in the village is built on tall stilts, and some are floating.
As the road that takes you to Kampong Khleang approaches the village, there are houses and buildings on each side of the road. As we were there in the “receding” season, with the level of the lake was still pretty high, this road just disappeared into the water. Yet, the buildings on either side continued, now with a waterway between them.
Everything, every aspect of life, is conducted on
the water. In our boat, and as we went south toward the lake to find fishermen, we came upon boats tied up to the top of a tree sticking out of the water. This was the fish market, where fishermen would come in with their catch and sell it to middlemen who would take it on to market. We
bought fish, prawns, etc., went to the home of the boat driver, and his mom
cooked us a delicious and fresh Cambodian lunch (after another game of Say with the local school children; I just hope they were not tardy for school). Scott especially liked the whole fried minnows, where other than the head, you eat everything in one bite. Later on, we did see some food that we decided not to try --- fresh grilled snake (yep, supposedly tastes like chicken).
After lunch and the boat trip back to dry land, we said goodbye to Ta’s family and headed for our last adventure in the area. Driving 45 minutes to the north, we finally reached the tomb of Boeng Mealea. If you will recall the overgrown tomb called Ta Proem, well, on this day we
learned that Ta Proem had been prettied up a little, with just the big trees remaining. At Boeng Mealea, we felt like we were the original discoverers, as vegetation was everywhere, and we could climb all over the
toppled stones of the temple ruins. Nervous Nellie did her best to control herself, as her kids took the lead in guiding us over and under stone ruins, around trees and through passageways. This one was definitely a keeper, of memories, at least.
We were there late in the day with only one other family at the site. They happened to be local, and Carson got to feel like the star of the day this time. We had noticed over the prior few days how the locals were paying attention to the little American girl, with a few reaching out to touch her. This family wanted to pose with all of us for a picture, and then the grandmother had to spend some one-on-one time with Carson; I think she enjoyed the attention.
As the sun settled into the horizon, we began our journey back toward Siem Reap, tired and quiet. We were amazed at the traffic along the local farm road as dusk turned to dark, oxen-pulled carts of rice hay, school kids on bikes, merchants with loaded scooters, dump trucks, walkers, cows and goats crossing at their leisure --- in short, a hardworking day drawing to an end for everyone. As darkness slowly took over our view, we reflected that this day was a perfect end to our time in Cambodia. We saw history in its (almost) natural state, we saw Khmers practicing their trades as they have for centuries, and we saw the simple life along a rural farm road, a road that could have been anywhere in the countryside of Cambodia. Other than the coast, we saw and tasted in this one day what Cambodia is, and as we rode back toward town, we enjoyed the lingering flavor.
To be honest, a lot of visitors skip the capital of Cambodia, instead heading straight to Siem Reap, and its many wats and temples. We decided to do a stopover here to see Phnom Penh before heading north.
Since we have many different ages possibly reading this blog, I don’t know how much you know about the Khmer Rouge. I admit to only a peripheral knowledge up to a few months ago. Although this country has a rich past, including the dynastic reigns of the heyday Angkor period, the events of the late 1970’s utterly define everything about Cambodia today.
After fighting the civil war in the countryside in the early 1970’s, the Khmer Rouge captured Phnom Penh on April 17, 1975. The capital’s population of over 500,000 citizens was emptied almost overnight, forced out by the Khmer Rouge soldiers to the countryside to begin a supposed great agrarian society, free from western influence. Until 1979 when the Khmer Rouge was ousted from Phnom Penh, the capital’s population never exceeded 50,000.
In April of 1975, Cambodia had a population of 7 MM. By late 1978, the country had lost more than 2 MM people, either to execution, starvation or other horrendous outcomes. Many of those tortured and killed were deemed those most able or likely to lead rebellions against the Khmer Rouge; these were also the people with education and talent As my cousin said after visiting here, there is a lost generation of Cambodians, and we learned that the losses were some of Cambodia’s brightest minds and leaders. As we walked around the capital, we looked at people our age and wondered how they survived this period. We wonder how these generous people can not carry extreme bitterness. We wonder how these killing fields could have happened just thirty short years ago (and how they continue to happen throughout the world today).
We awoke on the morning of the 2nd and headed for the Royal Palace and the Silver Pagoda. It was honestly just one of those things you have to do as a tourist, and we breezed through pretty quickly (stopping only to listen to some children musicians). We ventured next door to the National Museum, and then it was off to meet Daniela Papi for lunch.
Like some other friends we have visited on our trip so far, Daniela made the visit to Phnom Penh so worthwhile, enjoyable and interesting; the kids connected with her immediately, and she was a pleasure to be around. Daniela runs Pepy Rides, a bicycling touring company with a cause. Pepy Rides organizes bike trips throughout Cambodia, and donates all its profits to children’s educational and support programs in the country. Its website is www.pepyride.org; please check it out, especially if you are interested in visiting Cambodia. The Cullinans from W-S introduced us to Daniela, and they are coming here during Christmas for one of the Pepy Rides. In addition
to lunch, Daniela introduced us to Tu, the tuk tuk driver, allowed us to accompany her and her friends to an orchestral concert of Cambodian music, and joined us for a great Khmer dinner (where we sat on mats around the table). Daniela also introduced us to our guide in Siem Reap (Ta), where we are now heading. She is a dynamic young lady (man, that makes me sound so old) who is making a difference for kids in this part of the world.
After lunch on the 2nd, we decided to head to Choeung Ek, more commonly known as the Killing Field. This is where many of the above-referenced Cambodians met their death in the late 1970’s. Claire and I thought long and hard about going, and the pros and cons of introducing our kids to this horror, and whether they could learn and hopefully remember. We did not go to the prison called S-21 (where prisoners were interrogated before being move to Choeung Ek), because of the graphic nature of its presentations. It ended up that the Killing Field was uncomfortable for us, and we didn’t stay too long.
During our tuk tuk rides throughout the crazy Phnom Penh traffic, we were amazed at the anything-goes attitude of the drivers. We especially liked the “wrong way merge”. Traffic is constant, and if you are turning left (across the traffic), you could wait for ever for a break in traffic. Instead, Phnom Penh drivers just turn left, heading into the oncoming traffic and weaving around oncoming vehicles until they get to the other side. Tu was an expert, sometimes (of course) talking on his mobile at the same time. I got a rather weak video example, but you can get
the gist. We later learned the two cardinal rules of Phnom Penh driving: (a) if you are the one who makes eye contact, then you are the one who has to yield (i.e., he who blinks loses), and (b) never ever stop, anywhere; just keep on movin’.
Our flight to Siam Reap was not until mid-afternoon on December 3rd, so after breakfast we strolled past the new U.S. Embassy to Wat Phnom, and then walked to the Central Market. We find the markets fascinating, a place where everything intersects, and you can buy just about anything. I was looking for a map, and found that I could have bought any number of locations and types, including detailed topographic charts of the entire country. We ended up buying some watches and a few videos (the photo below is of the kids right before the negotiation), and strolled through the many food aisles as the kids tried to hold their breath. The Cambodians are evidently not grossed out by “unique” foods; if it tastes good or is nutritious, why not? We especially marveled at the fried spiders, large piles of black tarantula-sized eight-leggers.
We have just arrived in Siem Reap, and tomorrow will begin three days of exploring the wonders of the Angkor god-kings.
For the Tuttles, the island of Phuket was a little break in the middle of a six week trip through Asia. Although the
island is more vacation-centric than historic or cultural, we still managed to fill up every day, and only really got to hang out on the beach our last day before heading to the airport (and the massage under the shade on the beach, for the equivalent of US $10, was pretty nice; Carson managed to get two of them).
The morning after we landed we decided to rent a car, and soon after the others heard me muttering “Left is Right, Right is dead” a few hundred times before feeling comfortable driving on the wrong side of skinny roads. Once I was comfortable, that’s when Claire started mumbling
(J). Our hotel was pretty isolated, so having the car freed us to explore as we wished (and check out this school bus taking kids home from school).
We ventured to Patong Beach (think Myrtle-esque) and Phuket Town, as well as many of the side and main roads of the island. We chartered a boat and head 50 km to the southeast for a day of snorkeling in the Phi Phi (“Pee Pee”) islands.
We went trekking through a jungle in the Khai Phra Thaeo Wildlife Park, visiting two waterfalls and a gibbon rehabilitation center. We visited the Thalang National Museum (Thalang was the second kingdom name of Phuket). We went to a Thai cooking school, where after visiting the market with Chef Pat, we went to her home and cooked some of the dishes we had been sampling for almost two weeks.
We went to a few obligatory markets, one of which was very local --- no Farangs (“foreigners”) in sight.
And yes, since Claire was at a beach with three kids, we had to do the Thai versions of go karts and jungle golf.
Scott and Carson also did research projects (local sources and the internet), and presented their findings a few days later. We all now know the details of rubber production (from Carson) and rice production (from Scott).
Phuket and the other islands around it are more vertical than we imagined, in many areas sloping straight up from the coastline. The beaches are all in (sometimes isolated) coves, with steep rocky shores elsewhere. As in the rest of this country, there is lush green everywhere, with a myriad of different tropical plants creating a canopy over much of the island. Somewhat unbelievably, we didn’t see very many signs of the tsunami. There was construction going on in a number of places, but for the most part it seems like, at least physically, the island has recovered. Our snorkeling guide Pete related his story of leading a trip the day of the storm (he was 3 km out from the biggest of the Phi Phi islands), and like many others who were in boats, he did not realize the magnitude of the destruction until he got back to shore.
On Saturday, December 1st, we headed from Phuket to Bangkok on Thai Airways, and then transferred to Bangkok Air for our flight to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The jumbo Thai Airways flight came in from Perth, Australia to pick up passengers in Phuket before heading to Bangkok, and it was an hour late. By the time we landed in Bangkok, we had just 30 minutes to make our connection (to a different airline in a different terminal), and like most of our flights, we disembarked on the tarmac to waiting buses. We thought we were sunk. However, at the bottom of the steps, there was a young Thai Airway’s employee holding up our name; she took us to a private bus where she whisked us to the terminal, and walked us straight to the other airline’s ticketing gate. It was wonderful service in that someone took the time to determine those passengers on the flight who had tight connections, and then personally insured that they made the connections (translating the language along the way) --- think of the times in the U.S. where you have had tight connections, and the service you have received from our carriers.
We have finished two wonderful weeks in Thailand, and now head east to Cambodia. We stay there for six nights, and then it’s on to Vietnam for ten nights before heading home. If all goes well, we will arrive back in NC late on Sunday, December 16th.
Simply put, Mahout training (pronounced “ma-hoot”) was indeed a hoot, and a highlight of our travels so far. We made great memories, and after “roughing it” for a few days, we relaxed at a fantastic resort in Chiang Mai. We were also lucky enough to experience one of the two big Thai holidays while in Chiang Mai.
Leaving Bangkok on Thanksgiving eve, we flew north to Chiang Mai, and immediately headed back to the southeast for a 1.5 hour drive to Lampang. Our only purpose in visiting Lampang was to be close enough to the elephant camp the next morning for an early start. Leaving the opulence of Bangkok, we were able to stay in the nicest hotel in Lampang; complete with mice poop on the table, lizards on the 10th floor window sill, and the pungent odor of what we hoped was just garlic. We were able to wander about the city, and in addition to walking, took a horse drawn carriage and a local cab (which was a small pick-up truck with bench seats in the back).
This particular week was also the Lampang International Cultural Festival, in a fairground-type field two blocks from our hotel. After dinner, we visited the festival to see the unique cultural intersection of Bulgarian folk musicians and dancers (20 in all) on an outdoor stage with high-tech Thai lighting and fog-making, the latter two being operated by local Thai’s who evidently had no inkling of when the fog and swivel strobe lighting should be added to the music. We also saw this unusual lantern-like light orb high up in the sky, and had no idea what it was; however, we figured out the answer in a big way a few nights later.
By 8:30 the next morning, we were at the Thai Elephant and Mahout Development College. Claire and I are big believers in “things happen for a reason”, and this philosophy was tested when we checked in for our training. We thought that we were going for the “tourist type” elephant training, where you “trained” elephants so that you and they could be in a show three times per day, along with 10-15 other tourists. Instead, we were signed up for the Mahout Development College, where those wishing to be real-live mahouts (full time elephant trainers) had to start out; as we were driven back into the jungle, we learned that there were no others signed up for this program other than us Tuttles. Our short stay would include one day of learning the elephant commands, and then an overnight trek into the jungle for more work. Things do happen for a reason, for our experience was wonderful, and probably much better than the program that we were expecting.
We received our initial orientation, our mahout suits (good looking, eh?), our commands, and were paired with our elephants and mahouts. Elephants live to be +/- 70 years, and are often with a mahout for decades. My 50 year old mahout had been with his elephant for over 20 years.
Before getting started, we watched one of the elephant shows (that we thought we would be in). At the show there were a few Thai girls who went crazy over Scott (we are not sure why unless it was the novelty of a foreigner. Scott was indeed the star of the moment, and probably had to pose for 10+ photos (blushing through most of them).
Back at training, here are the commands we had to master and make our elephant perform:
Song Soong Get on beside
Hub Soong Get off beside
Bai Go forward
How (pronounced howoo) Stop
Tack Long Get on and off in front (think about that one)
Map Long Lie down on their belly
Non Long Lie down on their side
Look Stand up
Ben Turn left or right (directing them with your feet)
Soke Walk backward
Bong Drink
Geb Bone Use their trunk to pick up and hand you things
Ma Phe (“pay”) Come here
Ya! No
Assignments
Mahout Elephant
Carson Jaran Yai (‘big”)
Scott Pun Tadawon (“sunflower”)
Claire Ta Wee Boon Me (“lucky”)
Randall Nu An Ta Daeng (“red eyes”)
Scott picks up the day one story:
The elephant I’m riding is a female; her name is Tadawon, which means sunflower. After we learned commands and walked around for a little bit, we went to the lake to bathe them. Boy, it was fun!
We were leaving camp. Our elephants walked up a road to get to the lake. Once we got to it, our trainers (called mahouts (ma-hoots)) hopped on behind us. The elephants waded slowly into the water. Once we were in it, we told them to lie down. The word for lie down is map long. Suddenly, my elephant plunged down into the depths of the water. I was under it too. My legs slipped off my elephant’s neck. My head broke the surface of the water. I swam back to shore. Everybody was laughing at me. I decided to try again. I hopped back on my elephant. She waded back out. I said “map long!” and patted her head. She lay back down. Again, I fell off. Everybody started laughing again. I was soaked!
Giving my elephant a bath was really fun. I’m so glad we get to give them another one tomorrow morning.
As Scott wrote this journal entry, he didn’t know how special Tadawon’s bath would be the next day. We have a fantastic video of Scott and Tadawon, the diving elephant that I will post to YouTube as soon as I can figure out how (I've tried 3 times to no avail).
After that evening’s bath, we walked our elephants out to the jungle, where we chained them to a tree with a long chain for the evening. Then it was time for Scott and Carson to do some elephant research --- since we were with African elephants just over a year ago, it was interesting for the kids to make a record of the many differences between African and Asian elephants
By 7 AM the next morning, we were back on our elephants. After the aforementioned bath and then breakfast for us, we packed our elephants and headed into the jungle (leaving camp below right).
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Carson writes:
Today we rode our elephants to go camping.
When we got to the camp, we took a rest time and then had lunch. The lunch was very delicious. After lunch, we all picked a card from Daeng (our assistant mahout). We showed it to our mahout. My card said “Get bamboo to make cups and shot glasses”. My mahout said that’s a piece of cake.
After we gathered the bamboo we met back at the camp site. Scott was working on making firewood, and Mommy was making sweet sticky rice. My Dad was cutting bamboo to make bowls and bench seats.
I learned a lot today, and also thought it was a very fun and interesting day at elephant camp. I’m glad we did the elephant trekking, and I liked our elephants and our mahouts. I also liked the food too. I liked to pet, ride and feed my elephant. I liked chaining it and giving it baths (I bet Scott especially liked the baths!).
As Carson alluded, it was fascinating to see how the mahouts used the local plant life in so many ways. From bamboo, we made serving bowls and stands, glasses, spoons and knives, bench seats, a grill to cook meats, cylindrical cooking pots, etc. Banana leaves were used like cling wrap on the tops of the cooking pots, and folded into plates.
That evening at camp we realized another aspect of being a mahout, and that is the grunge and grime. Elephants are pretty dirty, and the lake in which we gave them a bath had dung floating everywhere. We worked all day with the elephants, and then ate everything with our hands, with everyone eating communally out of everyone else’s bowls. Lots of Thai moonshine disappeared; it probably had a sanitary effect on all of the dirt!
There were 8 Thais (5 mahouts, 1 cook and 2 camp assistants) and 4 Tuttles, and only 1 of the Thais (Daeng) spoke English, but with hand signals, our translated elephant commands and some broken Thai-English, we had a blast. The food was great, although we confess to not trying everything. I did have some mole soup (yep, the rodent type complete with the head, not the Mexican sauce) followed by the obligatory moonshine. Scott caught some creek crab, and tried that as well (minus the moonshine). For dessert, it was a fantastic coconut milk/sticky rice/sugar/salt combo, cooked in a smaller bamboo cylinder, called Kowlom.
After dinner, the mahouts stayed up late playing all sorts of Thai songs on a drum set they leave in the camp (made from paint cans and other trash), plus a guitar, harmonica and bells. They sounded great!
Before our training began back at the college, we had paid homage to the God of the Elephants (see first photo with our offering), who has a small shrine there. Upon arriving at camp, we paid homage to the God of the Jungle (again at a small shrine at camp), and before each meal a plate was prepared and left at this shrine.
Carson and Scott also continued their tradition of learning how to write their name in the language of each country that we visit. Daeng also taught us a little about the very confusing Thai alphabet; 46 consonants, 30+ vowels, and 5 different tonal sounds. He asked us to listen to the five different tones of the language by saying “mai, mai, mai, mai, mai”. Each of the “mai’s” was said with a different tone, but unfortunately, they all sounded the same to us.
After a night on hard bamboo, we hiked back into the jungle the next morning to retrieve our elephants from their chained tree, gave them another bath, and then broke camp and headed back. Once we arrived back, we were officially amateur mahouts, and had the certificates to prove it.
A few hours later, we had another “contrast” moment, as we sank into a luxurious resort in Chiang Mai. Taking our second shower in a matter of hours, we finally felt clean.
That evening was the Thai holiday of Loi Krathong. Celebrated at the full moon and high water point of the month of November, it is a worship to the God of Water, thanking this God for the use of water throughout the year, asking for forgiveness for the pollution of the water, and asking for another year of water blessings. As we headed into Chiang Mai city center, it became obvious that what was once a sacred holiday had now been overrun by the desire to have a party. BIG fireworks were everywhere, and it sounded like a battle zone much of the night. We participated in the celebration in two ways:
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Lighting and setting afloat our Krotung on the river; the Krotung is a lotus leaf with a candle and incense.
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Lighting and setting aloft our lantern, a small hot air balloon whose lift is created by the small torch strung like the basket in a hot air balloon.
People and cars crammed the sidewalks and the roads, the Ping River was trashily filled with the Krotungs, the evening sky was majestically filled with the floating lanterns, and rockets red glare zoomed everywhere. After a few hours, we tried to call it a night by heading back to the hotel, but over an hour later, we were still stalled in the holiday traffic, sitting in a tuk tuk (3 wheel motorcycle taxi) breathing everyone else’s fumes.
The next day (November 25) we took a day off from touring, and lazed around the resort. Schoolwork and dad-real-work was interspersed with swimming, some games, some exercise and yoga for the grown-ups. It was a needed downtime day.
After some in-the-airport schoolwork, we are now on the plane from Chiang Mai to Phuket, the beach resort area of Thailand that many of us were unaware of until the fateful December 26th almost three years ago. We have read that the effects of the tsunami are behind Phuket, and we will find out in a few short hours.
Oh, and Tyson, the Mahout Camp dog, eveidently thinks we are more tourists than mahouts. How embarassing!
We arrived back into Thailand on Sunday, November 18 around 2 PM local. As we checked into our room, we think got a nice little upgrade from our travel agent’s Virtuoso network (thank you Alice). Our rooms were fantastic, looking out over the Cha Phraya River and on to the city (and once again, even though we were in Bhutan just a few hours earlier, it seemed a long time ago).
We headed out that evening to the Suan Lum Night Bazaar, which is an evening version of the famous Bangkok and Thai markets (the picture to the left is from a security video of Scott and Carson being goofy on the subway platform). Admittedly touristy, it was still fun wondering among the endless stalls, and learning that the best negotiation technique is to walk away. We had previously arranged tickets to the Joe Louis Theatre (not the boxer) for a traditional Thai puppet show, where the 2-3 feet puppets are carried onstage and controlled by three puppeteers for each puppet.
The next day was fantastic, especially for the biker in each of us. Claire had arranged a biking tour in conjunction with a visit to the famous (infamously touristy) Floating Market. On the way, we stopped off to see how brown sugar, drinks and raw coconut are all made from coconut palm trees.
Then it was off to the Floating Market, where vendors paddling along in flat boats sold you almost anything you wanted, especially in the food department. Carson the business person bought a combo fan/hat, and negotiated her way down from 300 Baht to 70 Baht (albeit shyly)($1 equals just over 30 Baht).
We took a long (and sometimes fast!) boat ride through the canals (check out the video to the left); it was nice to get away from all of the tourists, and see the villagers who live along the canal and river. We then arrived beside a parking lot, where six bikes (two guides) and two sag wagons awaited us. Once we got stated, it was quite the procession. It was also the first time for Carson on such a big bike with two sets of gears, and she did great.
We biked through villages, along canals, almost through a restaurant, across the river on a small ferry, and through green green plots of land
that I guess must be farm fields, but unlike any agriculture we have seen. Portioned off by irrigation canals, coconut palm, banana, pomelo, mango, lichee, papaya and guava trees were all interspersed in a huge-leaved, lush and wet canopy of different blooming colors. We also rode by large field of wispy green plants, 3 feet tall, that upon a closer look was a field of asparagus. Our 30 km ride was broken by a late lunch along the Mae Klong River, before finishing back at the now quiet Floating Market. That evening, we hung
around the hotel; the kids enjoyed a bath (watching TV from the tub, so it was a long bath) and room service while Claire and I had a date night downstairs.
Day 3 in Bangkok saw us back on a long boat, plying the Cha Phraya River on the way to the Grand Palace (and we saw a few monitor lizards in the canals).
Claire especially loved the detail of the buildings, 128 years in its making, and how the gold plating and imported glass made this huge complex literally sparkle before our eyes.
That afternoon we took some needed R&R back at the hotel; the pool was too cool for the kids to pass up. That evening we ventured out to Siam Niramit, a historical but high tech look into the ancient past of Thailand (with a little Cirque du Soleil thrown in). We laughed at ourselves relative to being tourists. We definitely fall into this category in Bangkok; everything is so hectic and frenzied, and the only places people speak passable English are those in the tourist areas. That evening for dinner, Claire and I bypassed some of the sidewalk vendors because we had no idea how to order; we resorted to a place that had plastic covered pictures. We have a long way to go to be local here.
This morning we were up early to take a ferry across the river, where a car zoomed us to the airport. Fearing traffic that was not present, we had lots of time at the airport to do homework, journal work and blogwork. We are now off to the northern Thailand city of Lampang, and Mahout Training Camp, where we will train to be a mahout and care for elephants for two days.
Happy Thanksgiving to all, and eat some extra turkey for us (we will be having some form of rice)!
OK, so we like the Thimphu hospital. Scott awoke with an earache, and it was Thimphu ER, round #2. This time, Carson and I waited in the bus playing cards, and in short order, Scott was back feeling better. We headed off for the drive back to Paro.
Upon arriving in Paro, we had another fantastic lunch (the Bhutanese eat three big meals per day, but of seemingly healthy dishes mixed with lots of rice). Again, everything including “fantastic lunch” is relative, as Carson’s opinion of the culinary options is not as glowing:
I want McDonald’s and the Chicken Sandwich at Chick Filet. I mean, they don’t even have chicken here. Here’s what I eat daily:
Breakfast: boiled eggs and toast, hot cocoa, apples
Lunch: rice, hot cocoa, apples
Dinner: Rice, French fries, hot cocoa
Snack: hot cocoa, crackers
Isn’t that just horrible?!? Rice …. Rice …. Rice ….No …. No …. Noooooooooo!
One of the tenets of Buddhism is reincarnation, and therefore the necessity of respecting every living life (i.e., you can’t kill anything (I’m glad they didn’t have bad mosquitos!)). Therefore, almost all the meat has to be imported from a country (India) where someone will kill an animal, so the availability of certain meats was sketchy.
After lunch, we visited the National Museum. Situated in a turret-shaped fortress above the Paro Dzong, it displayed a great overview of the history and current state of Bhutan; as museums go, it was a hit. We then visited the Paro Dzong, and walked into town to do a little shopping.
That evening, the Tuttle family reached a minor milestone. From early in Phase I of the trip, where our card games revolved around Crazy 8 and Go Fish, we moved to Rummy and Gin in Greece, and now to Spades in Bhutan. The kids picked up the game very well, complete with trash talking during the day. Scott/Claire versus Carson/Randall is 1-1; it is not pretty.
The next day, Friday November 16th was probably the highlight of our Bhutan trip, as we ventured to Tatshang Lhakhang (Tigers Nest). It’s clearly the most famous of the Bhutanese monasteries, and you can see why from the photos (look over Claire and Scott's head). It was a 5+ hour trek up and back, complete with a picnic lunch and fantastic views. Interestingly, the Tigers Nest suffered from a disastrous fire in 1998, and Tashi told us that each of the citizens of the Paro district had to contribute toward the re-construction, in either money or work (one month per year). Therefore, over the next five years, Tashi spent one month per year working on the renovation, and the pride and ownership that he and his fellow citizens take in this majestic shrine are obvious.
Afterwards, we had time to visit the ruins of the Dzong in the village of Drukgyel. While in the village, Scott and Carson played with some of the local village kids, and had great fun.
The next day, our last day in the country, we drove up to Cheli La, another pass from which we could see the mountains of Nepal. Hiking among prayer flags above the tree line, we saw some Bhutanese yaks on our trek to a nunnery. As we were complaining a little about being out of breath ( we were walking generally downhill), we realized that the 45 nuns who live there make the walk up all the time; in fact, as we were enjoying another picnic lunch, four young nuns carrying huge loads on their backs passed us on their way up to the nunnery.
Additionally, and this is not for the grandmother reading this, I reflected how blasé we have become walking along narrow mountain trails, with many-hundred-feet drops just inches off the trail. Again, we are not locals yet, but are possibly just a little closer.
That evening Tashi and Wandi did yeomen’s work figuring out how to box up bows, arrows, quivers and darts. We will attempt to ship them home from Thailand, but who knows in this day of heightened security (imagine what the x-ray technician will think at the airport). Climbing up through and between the mountains the next morning on a crystal clear day, we got to see the world’s number 3 and number 1 tallest mountains out to the west. Bhutan was behind us, and Thailand lay four hours ahead.
As we awoke to go camping, Carson was still sick, so we got to see the Bhutanese medical system in action (and on a national holiday, to boot). Picture a triage line stretching out the door to the parking lot, and the doctor sitting at the head of the line seeing patients (with the next patient 2 feet away, listening to all your maladies). However, it worked great, and was at no charge (and Carson’s medicine cost 35 Ngultrum (about $1)).
Our weather was fantastic, and during the day, the temperatures were perfect for trekking and sightseeing. However, at night in Thimphu, the mercury dropped to the 30’s, and it was cold. As we were going camping, Tashi assured us that it would be warmer, since Punahka is 1000 meters lower in elevation. As we found out, “warmer” is a relative term (especially being offered by a Bhutanese used to this weather).
Leaving Thimphu, we drove up to Dochu La, a 3500 meter pass through the mountains that offered fantastic views of the highest peaks in the kingdom, and to the Punahka valley 2000 meters below us into which we would descend. The roads throughout the Kingdom are pretty decent, but narrow, such that whenever you met an oncoming car, both have to slow and pull to the shoulder. This was especially interesting on the tightly curved road leading to the valley, combined with (probably perpetual) road construction being performed mostly by hand (i.e., to get gravel, they break up larger stones with hammers).
We headed to Wangdue Phodrang Dzong, the third oldest in the country. Dzongs were built in the 1600’s as religious fortresses, and have evolved to serve a twofold purpose; they house the primary monastery of the district on one side, and the governmental seat of power on the other. The physical proximity of government to religion in Dzongs is indicative of their relationship in everyday life. At Wangdue, we dropped in on a class of monks (around the age of 10) doing their lessons.
During our stay in Bhutan, we visited numerous Dzongs, monasteries, nunneries, lhakhangs, etc., all with Buddhist temples. We learned about Lord Buddha and his teachings, Guru Rimpoche (the second reincarnation of Buddha who came to Bhutan 1200 years after the original’s death), Zhabdrung (who united the country and built many of the Dzongs), and many other deities to whom the Bhutanese offer praise. We saw at the Dzongs images of the four kings (guarding the four points of the compass), the four brothers, the six worlds, the three sins of greed
(pig), ignorance (snake) and jealously (bird), and many other teachings of Buddhism. Additionally, we saw prayer wheels everywhere; Buddhist prayers are inside, and by spinning them (clockwise, of course), you send these prayers out to the world. Buddhism is a surprisingly complex religion, but one that is fascinating to learn about from the Bhutanese point of view; we will be interested to see the differences in Thailand, our next stop.
We arrived to our campsite by the river, and the kids immediately pulled
out the bows, arrows and darts. We had great fun trying to emulate the archers we saw the day before (complete with all the chants and dancing).
Scott writes:
Today we got to the campsite after a 3 hour ride. Finally, when we got there I got my new traditional bow and arrow to try them out. Our guide set up a target. We had a great campsite; our campsite was great because it was an archery range! Instead of shooting 120 meters I shot about a third of that. Our bus driver strung up the bow for me. It was about 30 pounds. I selected my longest arrow. I made sure that when I put it on my string I heard a faint click. You have to aim a little higher than you think. On my first shot I didn’t do that. I aimed too low and it only went halfway. I realized my mistake almost instantly. I pulled the next arrow out of my quiver and snapped it to the string. I aimed high, pulled back, and released. SO CLOSE!!!!!
Shooting the traditional bow 40 meters totally beats the backyard. I mean TOTALLY!! I can’t wait to shoot it again.
P.S. My dad was the only one to hit the target. (I think it was luck)
Now, back to that “warmth” concept. Please consider a few things: it gets dark at 5:30 PM, although we are at the relatively low elevation of 1500 meters, it is still the Himalayas, and by Bhutanese law, camp fires are prohibited. Although it was indeed warmer than in Thimphu, it was still only in the mid-40’s. We therefore had a great dinner around 6:30 PM, and afterwards, the only way to stay warm was to climb in bed. So by 7:30 PM each night, we were snuggled under 4 layers of blankets reading, catching only quick glimpses of what you can imagine to be startling bright stars in a moonless sky.
The cold of the night was mitigated nicely by the warm tea brought to our tent each morning. The next day, after the kids played morning darts, we were quickly on our way to a beautiful trek to the Khamsum Yuly Namgyal Chorten.
In addition to the shrine, it was nice to see the Bhutanese countryside, people in gho’s and kira’s (the national dress for men and women), children, farm animals, rice paddies stacked on rice paddies, and blazingly red poinsettias everywhere.
We also heard lots of salutations, as Scott writes:
On the way back from our hike, I think the only thing that we heard was “bye bye”. Every kid on the trail said that. Of course, we had to respond. We said bye-bye so much that we lost our voices.
The first kid we met was a boy who was about 3-4 years old. He was standing on his porch with his mom; our guide was showing us a machine that got the rice out of its shell. The little boy saw us and started screaming “bye-bye” at the top of his lungs. We waited until our guide stopped talking to respond and wave. We walked past his house while he was still screaming “bye-bye”. He kept on screaming even though we couldn’t see him anymore. Finally, he stopped screaming.
Literally ten seconds later we came to another house. Four 5 year old boys came running out. They too started screaming “bye-bye” but they were a little bit shyer. They didn’t say “bye-bye” as much as the other boy, just when you waved at them.
Right after that a little girl 3-4 years old saw us. She was standing in her yard screaming “bye-bye”. She screamed it even louder because she was about a football (American) field away from us. She stopped screaming when we were out of earshot.
The last “bye-byes” we heard were from a boy who looked about 7-8 years old. He was working in the rice field with his mother. When he first saw us he didn’t say anything. All he did was look at us. When we went behind a fairly big bush and emerged a couple of meters higher, he screamed “bye-bye” once for every person hiking in our group. Even though he meant it for one of us, we all responded.
I can’t believe how many kids wanted to say “bye-bye” to us. It made my throat sore.
After lunch back in the camp, we headed to the Punahka Dzong, the second oldest and reputedly the most beautiful Dzong in the country. It was magnificent, and in the main temple, Tashi walked us through a 3-walled mural of the life of Buddha. Although cameras are not allowed inside a temple, we will have the mental picture of the Punahka Dzong temple for a long time.
The next day we packed up and headed back toward Thimphu. Along the way, we stopped for a trek to the Temple of the Fat Lady (Chimi Lhakhang). Lama Drupka Kunley is the benefactor of this temple, and he is otherwise known as the Divine Madman. He was a very worldly saint, in that his romantic conquests were legendary, and his blessings are of virility and productivity. Everywhere throughout Bhutan, including hanging from the rearview mirror of our bus, is the remembrance of this inspiring deity, that being not just a phallic symbol, but the male member very obviously presented.
Back in Thimphu, we visited an arts and craft school, a cultural heritage center (that showed the architecture, construction and daily life of a typical Bhutanese farm house), and the national textile center, where Scott and Carson got to try on a gho and kira.
That night at dinner, we discussed with Tashi the idea of getting pizza for dinner. Being a true Bhutanese, I think this thought disgusted him, but he nicely went out early, got a pizza for the kids, and brought it to a proper Bhutanese restaurant, where we admittedly had the best meal of the trip (probably kids included J). The next day it was off to Paro.
As I write this, I am sitting by the Mo Chu (Female River) in the Punahka District, and the sun is getting ready to go down. Punahka is one of twenty districts in the Kingdom of Bhutan. We have just enjoyed hot tea and hot cocoa. Dubai seems like a long time ago.
Friday morning, November 9th, we awoke early and headed for the Dubai airport. To get to Bhutan, we first had to go to Bangkok (taking an entire day to do so), overnight at an airport hotel, get up at 4 AM on Saturday
for our flight back to Paro, Bhutan (with a stop in Calcutta, India along the way). Arriving in Paro, we then drove about 3 hours (less than 60 km, so you figure out the road conditions and twists and turns) to the kingdom’s capitol of Thimphu.
If you look at a map, you will see that Bangkok is way out of the way, and you may scratch your head why it takes over 1 ½ days to travel to Thimphu. Bhutan is hard to get to, but its isolation is part of the attraction. Since we were not familiar with Bhutan, and since many of our friends have also not heard of the country, please let me share some background info on the country. Bhutan is a kingdom, some say the hidden kingdom. It is tucked into a landlocked region of the Himalayas, bordered by Nepal, China (Tibet), Bangladesh and India. Seventy percent of it is forested, and undoubtedly more than this number is mountainous (and we are talking big mountains).
The charm of this country is that “western ways” and “development” have been slow to reach it. Automobiles did not arrive until the 1970’s; television not until the auspicious year of 1999 (imagine not having TV until then, and then all you hear about is “Y2K”). The business of tourism was only moved from government to private operators in 1991, and it is still tightly regulated. As an example, in Dubai, with a population of 1.4 MM, a multiple of that number will visit annually. In Bhutan, with a population of +/- 600,000, 3% (18,000 tourists) will visit annually. The only way to arrive in the country is through its only airport in Paro, on Druk Air.
The Wangchuk dynasty has been in power since 1907, and to celebrate the 100 year anniversary, the 4th King is abdicating power to his son, and moving the country to a constitutional monarchy. This King is also interested more in Gross National Happiness, than GNP; this is serious national policy that quite nicely fits this place. The 3rd King (father of the 4th King) was the ruler that began to bring Bhutan into the national community during the 50’s and 60’s, and Thimphu (left), its capital, didn’t exist until 1961.
As we have told some of you, it is the only nation’s capital (nation?) without a traffic light (see right), but if you didn’t have cars or roads until the 1970’s, …... We are told that to fully understand this country, you must understand Buddhism, so we are taking a crash course in both. The religion is infused into every aspect of daily life, and government.
Our guide was Tashi, and our driver was Wandi. They met us in Paro that Saturday morning, and stayed with us our entire stay. They were fantastic, and taught us about the country and its people. Upon arriving in Thimphu, we had lunch and then went to the local market. On weekend days, this is where everyone comes to buy produce, meat, etc (including all of the restaurants).
Carson writes:
Our bus was taking us to the market. I wondered what the market would look like. Big or small? When we got
to the market, we stepped out of our big van. The market had roof tents all over the place. The ground was dirt, and there were lots of fruits and vegetables scattered around the market, with some on tarps and some in baskets. I could name 20 things I’ve never heard of. It was an outdoor market. The closer we got, the more smells I smelled. The market had all different kinds of smells. The only thing we bought were some smells (incense). I liked the market today; it was fun and enjoyable.
The market definitely offered us an immediate introduction to local life. As we have discussed, our goal this year is to get local as fast as possible; I’m not saying that we are necessarily succeeding here, but there are no tourist traps, no tacky tourist promotions, no people trying to sell us something every twenty feet or so. It is a culture that until very recently was primarily agrarian, and is now dealing with increasing change in many different areas. Claire compares it to her time in Guatemala; my only comparison is to Kenya. Therefore, we found it important to look past some of the less than pristine things (like scattered trash, poor roads, sewerage in the gutters, the dust), and focus on the people, and the natural color of green everywhere. On our second day, we noticed the “negatives” less, and quickly moved to not even seeing them. What we did see is the beauty of the country, and that for good and bad, so called western ways have yet to fully arrive (and it could be a great debate if those western ways will be positive or negative).
After seven weeks of travel, illness caught up with our family on day two. Carson was out of action with a cold/sore throat combo, and I was/am still battling some lingering sinus problems. Scott and Claire headed out on a trek to a local Dzong while Carson and I slept. After their return and lunch, we headed to the Archery Tournament being held down the street. Archery is the national sport, and since Scott loves the sport and has all his own equipment, we thought we knew what we were going to see. Picture what you think of as an archery range; that’s what we were expecting.
Instead, we arrived to a loooong field, 120 meters in length. At each end was a target 3 feet by 1 foot, with one 10 inch circle in the middle.
Teams of 11 were competing against each other, with one-half of each team on each end. When one team member would shoot, his team members at the other end of the range would exhort him on, standing oh, just about 3-4 feet from the target (remember that the arrow is coming in from 120 meters!). Later in the day, driving back from seeing the national animal (the Takin, a goat-cow combo), we saw some locals shooting archery. Instead of compound bows, they were using traditional bows (less accurate), and they were still standing right next to
the targets (although they did move a few feet away for certain shooters J). At both fields, after each shot, they would chant and dance for the shooter’s good fortune, and offer encouragement on how to improve.
So, realizing that we were going camping the next few days, we bought some bows, arrows, string, quivers and some darts as well (another national sport --- think lawn darts).
Our hotel was right in the middle of the capital, and we need to mention that Sunday and Monday were national holidays (the 4th King’s birthday). I guess you would call it a Cultural Festival, but suffice to say that probably every 20-something Bhutanese living in the area was right outside our window, especially Sunday night, ending the evening with “Happy Birthday” to the King. We were all falling asleep about this time, getting ready to head toward Punahka, where we would trek and camp for two nights.
