Katie's closing thoughts

On Thursday when we arrived in Bangkok and got in the van with Martina and her two friends from Vienna, the first thing we mentioned (and actually what we raved about the most) was the Sukhothai aiport and flight. After all we had explored and ventured through, our minds could not leave that last luxurious experience (though Mom was definitely praising more than I thought neccesary). What about our homestay or the fabulous new foods we had or the fabrics we fell in love with or the crazy Thai's we met the past two weeks? Was all that meaningless now?

No, of course not. In fact, it was because of what all we had been through that we were able to appreciate the flight and all its amenities. I would never trade those crowded bus rides, long train trips, meals with the locals (especially those with Supijit), nights in the guesthouses, and all those moments of feeling lost, tired, and frustrated for comfortable, easy, and clean transportation and accommodations. It's not that I want to be uncomfortable or lost but I want to learn and explore a culture, and I have to do that by emerging myself within it and that requires getting out of my comfort zone. I did not come to Thailand simply to be pampered (though I have gotten plenty of it and I'm not complaining) because I could do that without having to travel 24 hours on a plane to get it.


This trip has been my first time in a "developing country" where I have first-handedly seen villages where people still make crafts and grow food the same way that their ancestors for generations have. I love seeing this but at the same time it makes me think a lot about this type of society. It's called "developing" because it is not what is supposed to be and needs changing. I personally struggle with this because it thrills me to see cultures that are still unique and not manipulated by a corporate matrix. But I always wonder what the people actually want. Do they really want what the "developed" world has or are they just brainwashed to think that is what they want and need?


Yes, I live in a "developed" country where I am beyond privileged to have the life I want, but does that mean that in order to have the life you want you must live in a society like I live in? I would argue definitely not and that Americans who are truly satisfied with their life are a minority. While I can't prove this, it seems evident that people always want something they don't have that they think would make their life better. When does it stop? If people aren't satisfied there then why should other societies seek that way of life? And how can you determine if what works in one part of the world will automatically apply somewhere else? and how can you possibly know what another culture- something foreign and so different from your society- could possibly want or need?

Rice is a very important part of Thai (and Asian, for that matter) culture. Central Thailand is considered the rice bowl of the world accounting for 30% of global exports and claims to be the original site of the first rice plants. Thais are very serious about their rice having it at least three times a day. As we traveled through rural areas of Thailand, much of what we saw was rice fields, and there was never a time that I didn’t see someone out working in the field. I personally can’t say that I would want to be bending over 12 hours a day planting rice, but there is something very special about the intense human involvement and time that the Thai’s put into growing, harvesting, refining, and cooking rice. I can appreciate this because we don’t have that in our culture. First of all, we don’t have a national food staple. The closest we have is corn, but most of the corn is not eaten as corn but processed into more things than I want to know about. Secondly, corn (or any other staple such as wheat) has little or no human connection. It is all done by machine. Many of those “farmers” will not walk the field, study the soil, anticipate the weather, or even taste the crop. They simply sit back and let the machine roll. Many people would look at the rice fields here and say if only they had machines people would be better off and they could produce more rice at a cheaper cost. But that is the problem with the “developed” world- people get left out. The human face is lost to the consumer’s pocket.

One of my favorite things that I observed about Thai culture was the way they did fast food. (Yes, they had fast food but not anything like what is in the States). Food joints and snack stalls line the streets all day long filled with freshly prepared dishes of all sorts. Most of the "restaurants" come out of people's homes, or at least the food is prepared at home and then brought to a street vendor. Some people just set up a table outside their door having hot rice and fried fish ready for any passerbys. It's just like the old fashioned lemonade stand- sell what you can make and what people want at a price that is fair for everyone. I don't know any numbers but I would estimate that a large portion of the small town population is occupied in the food business. And since Thai's seem to eat all the time and enjoy one another's company at the table it is much more than just a business

But what if one day the food joints and snacks stalls that line the streets and provide independent jobs for people will one day be replaced by fast food chains and if all those delicious freshly made tropical fruit juices are outrun by soda drinks and bottled, preserved juices (that aren't really made from fruit) or if the street side tailors are outsized by the incoming textile factories or if the rice fields are managed by John Deeres? Not only will many people lose their jobs and way of life, but even worse a culture will be lost.

That is why I wanted to come to Thailand and live with a Thai family because I could see and experience an authentic livelihood at work (of course, there are other countries that I could go to but Thailand also has my Aunt, Uncle, and two cousins!). Despite the authenticity, I was shocked at how much Western influence there was here- in clothing, food, brands, ideals, looks, etc. (By the way, I am mostly referring to the non-Bangkok areas of Thailand that we visited- Bangkok is very developed and westernized in my view but still has some of the unique Thai cultural aspects). And not everything I saw about this way of life was good. The towns were dirty, polluted, and smelly. They were overrun with stray dogs and shops filled with only junk. They used motorbikes extensively in places that were just right for biking and walking. There was always a TV on wherever we went- people were glued. There are not yet signs of the “epidemic” but they are already promoting after school aerobics classes and dance video games for those too sedentary kids. I even saw an advertisement for a weight loss program targeting Asian women (the “before” picture outdid many of the American “after” pictures). Plastic surgery is widely available (almost as much as Thai massages) promoting the image of the ideal white female model as what every woman should want to look like (since when do Asian females have bad figures?)

I know I have probably taken this much too far, but this is just a sample of my thoughts that arise as I look at this world. As a student in International Agriculture Development, I constantly face these predicaments. What is development after all and what should our (those with money and education) do about it? What is our responsibility and what are the boundaries? What is the goal of development, globalization, foreign aid? Is it to create a world of peace, joy, and justice or is it a selfish, political, economical ploy? And then I think where do I fit in with all of this?

I look forward to returning to school and my studies so that I can apply what I have learned through my experiences in this short time in Thailand. It's just a beginning for me but it was a great one. I am so grateful to have a mother that I can travel with so easily and can share similar interests with. This will not be our last. Stay tuned for future adventures and thank you for reading this far.

A tribute to our family in Bangkok!

Our trip ended in Bangkok—once again at the home of my brother Jim, his wife Martina and their sons Tom and Paul. They have been incredibly wonderful and we grately appreciate their generous hospitality and letting us come into their life. We have loved being with them and have some pictures to show their life in Thailand and our time together.

A surprise in Sukhothai

We read about the Sukhothai Organic Agricultural Project and wanted to see it. It was started by a 75 year-old woman named Vanli Prasarttong-osoth who has a food nutrition degree from a U.S. university and started out as an elementary school teacher. Her husband owns the Bangkok airways so when they bought the land for the airport in Sukhothai, they developed an agricultural experiment in the rice fields adjacent to the small airport. They developed three kinds of rice, all organic, but each designed for nutritional content-- brown, black and red.

We stopped by the Sukhothai Heritage Resort to taste the rice and then headed to the agricultural station, shown in the pictures.

The trip back on Bangkok Airways was as opposite of our trip to Sukhothai as you can get (see Getting There and Around). The attendents place a orchid corsage on every passenger. The small check-in takes so little time, that you can avail yourself of one of the complimentary bicycles to ride around the grounds and see the weaving and cermics demonstrations or just settle in the outdoor waiting area and partake of the complimentary fruits, drinks and snacks while reading one of the numerous free magazines or newspapers.

As we rode in an open-air van to the plane, a staff of several attendents stood and bowed bon voyage. The whole runway is landscaped in flowers and the flight was the smoothest ever, of course, with complimentary lunch and drinks.

If you are ever in the area--be sure to check it out--and while you are there you can see the Sukhothai historical park ( the capital before Bangkok) and the Sri Satchanalai Heritage site (ancient ruins of an early Thai city)--two of the most historical sites in Thailand. Here is an old wat at the Sri Satchanalai site. We rode our bikes there through a nice village with antiques and other various crafts and offerings.

Getting There and Around

My cousins Franklin and Tresa McCallie once bragged that they took buses in Beijing. They spoke about the advantage of “traveling with the people” as a way of getting to know the country. Since Franklin is almost as tall as Yao Ming, he also attracted a lot of attention. Well, Franklin and Tresa, Katie and I have a challenge for you.

Ok, you start in Vientiane, Laos, and you have to get to Sukhothai, Thailand, which is on the other side of the country in one day—by ordinary conveyance. This is a challenge for The Amazing Race.

First you have to get to the border and cross the Mekong River, going through customs on the Thailand side. Oh, I forgot to tell you that you have to stop in Nong Khai and pick up the bags and stuff you left there. So now you have 6 bags between you because you added a bag of fabric in Laos and Supijit gave you a bag of dried Kaffir lime leaves.

The bus leaves Nong Khai every hour. It goes as far as Udon Thani, about two hours away. The driver pulls over and lets everyone out, oh well, on the side of the road somewhere. You ask “Sukhothai?” and the driver nods and points.

Beware the pointing finger!

It looks like he is pointing across the street. But there is clearly no bus terminal across the street. You ask someone else,” Sukhothai?” You never know for sure what you are saying and what they are hearing. A tuk-tuk driver acts like he knows what you need and takes all your bags and off you go.

Passing numerous lotus ponds and rice fields, he drops you off at a bus terminal and leaves. Again, you ask “Sukhothai?” More nods and selling of tickets and a pointing finger over there. You sit and wait.

On the way to the bathroom, you discover that the man taking up 3 baht for the toilet speaks English and tells you that the bus leaves in two hours and you are sitting in the wrong place—it’s over there—and he points.

The toilet isn't worth the 3 baht you gave him but you hope his English is. You move. A monk is sitting there, too, under a sign warning not to smoke.

The bus is not a Mercedes bus, but it has AC, curtains, a blanket, and water. You are in for a 6-7 hour ride over the mountains and through a national park. You are right under the TV which is playing the equivalent of Thai Country Music TV. At one point the bus is so full that people are standing in the aisle and someone is sitting on your arm rest. But you are ok with that because you are the one sitting in the seat.

Night comes. The CMT stops. The arm rest is free. Your water bottle is empty and you’ve eaten all of the boiled peanuts and sliced green mango you bought on the way.

At last, the bus comes to a terminal—it’s 11 pm. But you’re not in Sukhothai yet. It’s 60 kilometers away. You have a room in a guest house in Sukhothai waiting for you. It’s pouring rain, thunder and lightning. The next bus to Sukhothai leaves at 1 AM. There’s a taxi driver available who seems a little tipsy and doesn’t speak English. You read in Lonely Planet that there are hotels with “decent” rooms in this town that you know nothing of nor can you see where you are. People are shouting and telling you things in Thai because they can tell you don’t know anything and need their help, but of course they aren’t helping much at all.

What do you do?

Laos- a new territory

The book says to pronounce it “Wien-chang”—but no one seems to. Vientiane is the capitol of Laos just across the Mekong River from Nong Khai. The new Friendship Bridge makes it easy to go back and forth. Laos’ colonial past as part of French IndoChina is evidenced in the wide, tree-lined boulevards with circular intersections and fountains that no longer have water and are overgrown with moss and weeds.

Mom and I arrived in Vientiane a little before noon. It was a long morning getting across the border- much slower than we expected. To our good fortune, our taxi driver just happened to drop us off at a Scandinavian bakery. Alas, we finally got the long awaited pastry shop. After indulging in bread, butter, jam, cheese, and cappuccino we were ready to explore this new country. (Earlier reference--Lonely Planet described the French pastry shops which we failed to find, see Overnight Train to Ubon Ratchathani and Traveler's Nightmare.)

It didn’t take us long to realize that this was a special place- at least for our interests. There was one boutique after the next beautifully displaying both new and old silk and cotton scarves, wall hangings, bags, and much more almost all made from Laotian villagers. We were in the meca of fabric. (You can see above with our displayed purchases just how much we were enthralled. It was hard to resist it all.) Going from one store to the next always keeping the store clerks busy with opening every piece and showing us some of their finest, we never got bored. And when we were tired (which came easily with some many fabrics to look at) we just got a massage- that is a Lao massage, one of the best things that has ever happened to me. We soon learned that this was the best deal in town- for just one hour it cost $4, and this was no shabby massage- we got a special outfits, a shower, tea, and deluxe relaxation. And once again we found a nice little guesthouse to stay in.

Here is Mom enjoying a foot massage- one of the three we had in two days.

One thing we were not expecting in Laos was all the tourists. For the past week and a half we had been one of the few foreigners around always blantantly standing out. You would think after being surrounded by unfamiliarity we would embrace these fellow Westerners, but in fact it was the opposite. We observed that tourists rarely socialized with other foreigners, and we were no different. I have to admit I didn’t like being amongst all the tourists, but one benefit was the good restaurants. They had better cafes and sandwich shops than we can find in the States. We never saw one Lao restaurant, which was a shame for me. I was ready for street food again when we got back to Thailand.

Oh yeah, and if you ever go to Laos be sure to brush up on your basic math skills. Though they do take dollars and baht in many places, you will need to use some Kip and it does not come in small quantities. A meal will cost around 50,000 kip. And bargaining does not come easy, but it is well worth it to be prepared because they can get away with selling items at higher prices. With bargaining and converting between kip, dollars, and baht it is no wonder we needed a massage (at least that is what we told ourselves).

Democratic Convention in the morning

Although we got to see the Olympic ceremonies live at night, we have the opposite situation with the Democratic National Convention—it comes on live on CNN—in the morning while you are seeing it at night. The only problem is finding a TV with CNN. Almost impossible.

Most unexpected--one night in Vientaine, Laos, we went to a Japanese restaurant and the TV was on--I saw on the tape at the bottom of the screen that Obama had picked Joe Biden as his VP. It was CNN breaking news. We asked the owner if he could turn up the sound. He was delighted to have people watch it so we had a great sushi dinner and went back the next night to watch the closing ceremonies of the Olympics.

Then a couple days later we were in Sukhothai, Thailand—really small place. We went to have breakfast and the restaurant was closed. So the "tuk-tuk" driver took us somewhere else and dropped us off at a hole in the wall sort of place. I noticed a large screen TV and asked the owner if he had an English channel--he smiled and changed the channel and there was Michelle Obama giving her speech on CNN International! Katie is in the picture giving an iced tea toast as we watch the live speech—for breakfast.

But since that time we have not been able to see anything. It is so frustrating. Unable to find a TV with CNN, we went to an internet cafe and tried to go to CNN online, but couldn't down load the video. Besides, the noise was horrendous— teenagers use the cafe for computer games that are brutally violent and noisy like cars crashing and gangsters shooting each other.

We are now back in Bangkok at Jim and Martina's house where we were able to watch Obama’s acceptance speech this morning after breakfast.

This election affects the whole world. We saw on Thai TV one day that McCain was head in the polls by 5 percentage points. I don’t know how most people in Thailand feel, but a guy at the bus station who didn't speak English, when he learned we were from America, said, "Obama!" and held up two thumbs.

The Thai have their own political problems right now—a half million people have descended on Bangkok for a massive demonstration demanding the resignation of the top government leaders for corruption. The government has responded with an ultimatum to disperse.

Wat on every corner, monk on every sidewalk

I don’t think I’ve ever been in an actively Buddhist country before. In Japan, China, and Korea, Buddhism is part of the history. But in Thailand, Buddhism is alive and well and a part of everyday life. Katie mentioned earlier the opening assembly at school—everyday they start with the national anthem and then a Buddhist prayer. One day a Buddhist monk was the speaker at the opening assembly and met with smaller groups during the day.

We see monks in saffron robes, young and old, everywhere. And, of course, there’s a wat (Thai temple) on every corner.

We were told that women aren’t supposed to touch or may make eye contact with a monk, so we kept our distance. One day in Laos, a young monk came up to us and wanted to practice his English. He was at a monastery in Laos which offered meditation at 4:00 everyday for foreigners. That is where most of these pictures were taken—or on the riverwalk in Nong Khai.

There were about 12 people at the meditation, all foreigners. A monk and nun attended, but the meditation was led by a British woman. We sat on pillows- the same pillows we envied to have a few days before from the Isaan region- in a pavilion. She explained some basics of being silent, not following your thoughts, just letting them go and observing your breath. After about 15 minutes of sitting, she asked us to get up and do 20 minutes of walking meditation—we walked quietly and very slowly around the pavilion on our own. Then we returned to the pillows for 20 minutes of sitting again. About half way into it, the cicada began chirping loudly just like they do in Tennessee in the summer and then the monks somewhere closeby began chanting in a high pitched monotone which sounded a lot like the cicada in human voice.

Supijit’s house was just across from a Buddhist monastery. Boss took us through it one day. The monks keep a lot of dogs. Every afternoon about 4:00 the drum struck a beat. Boss said it was reminding people to come to something, but he forgot what it was.

The thing I think that I liked best about being a neighbor to a Buddhist monastery was the bell in the morning at 5:45 am (but not so much the one at 3 am).

The bell starts slowly, softly—one, then a few short rings, pause of several seconds, then another short series of rings, this time a little longer than the first, softly, slowly. It keeps going this way for awhile—a gradual awakening from sleep. It’s not a harsh honk or a jarring command, only a call to start your day—come, it says, join me in a new beginning: The sky is turning light, the roosters have already done crowing, and the birds are fluttering.

These communal time clocks are a part of village life. I miss the chimes of church. Something is lost when the communal markers of time are replaced with individual alarms. Even if we live our own individual routines, the communal time clocks make us aware that we all share in the passing of time and the welcoming of day.