I wandered around the airport for a bit (Osaka is not as nice as Narita, in my opinion, although it does have better food true to the Kansai area's boasts). Grudgingly, I bought an umbrella and tried to sort out the trains headed into Osaka--all about an hour and rather expensive too. The desk workers who I asked for help were all surprisingly unfriendly. In fact, everyone I asked for help or spoke to in Osaka, with the exception of a nice Korean lady, were very cold and unhelpful. I'm not sure if this is an Osaka attitude or if it was just a bad day for everyone. This made the already gloomy atmosphere feel unwelcoming, and discouraged me from asking for help. I felt very lost trying to learn the trains and buy tickets, and to make it to Shin-Osaka station, which was my best guess for a good start. I had little idea of what to do or where to go in such wet weather, though I would have been confused regardless of the rain. I wound up on the nankai line towards Namba station, and made my way towards the city. After all, I still had about 6 hours before I even needed to check in. There was no way I could just waste the time. When I got off the train, I wandered through "donbori" canal streets. These were interesting, but I really did not get a good view or impression of Osaka. These shops and canal streets can be found almost anywhere in Japan. I did find an art shop and a delicious smelling green tea shop. I've finally and very suddenly started to enjoy the taste of maccha, although normally I dislike teas, coffees, etc. I'm very excited to like maccha! I've always like green tea flavored snacks, so it is about time I have at least one tea that I enjoy and will help me stay warm in Sapporo. When I got cold and wet enough, I strolled inside a daimaru to admire the fancy confections, then purchased a yummy bean-filled roll. It was around 4PM by the time. I decided that my one goal should be to get something to east, to warm up and at the very least experience something of Osaka. It turns out that in the Namba subway there is a huge number of restaurants. In the whole area, really, but ALL the restaurants in the underground "Namba city" stroll looked incredible. It was so hard to decide. I kept passing longingly by a mitarashi dango cafe, a number of restaurants, okonomiyaki, etc. I told myself I should eat something more dinner-like. It was about 4:30pm when I worked up the courage to ask an information booth worker how to find a tasty-looking Korean restaurant I had seen on one of the food posters. Consistent with others in Osaka I interacted with, she even laughed a little at my question, as though it should be so easy to navigate the maze of hallways and literally hundreds of shops. Goodness. It felt patronizing the way she explained a map to me, although at least she did mark the route very well with a pen. The restaurant had just ended lunch and was on break til it's dinner hours opened at 5:00pm. I wandered around till then, almost second-guessing my choice and going to other yummy options. Fortunately, I waited. It has been a long goal of mine to try the Korean dish called "bibinba" in Japanese, which I supposed is described as Korean friend rice though it is so much more. Rice is covered in some vegetables, spices, and a raw egg. This is all placed in an extremely hot stone bowl and stirred together, sizzling in front of you in the stone bowl. The Korean waitress let me in (I was the only one, and the first one waiting outside) and I was really happy to learn that one of the bibinba only had veggies. She sat me down and I could overheard her and the cook conversing, and the tantalizing sizzle of food being prepared. She helped me stir the dish when she brought it out, talking with me briefly about what I am doing in Japan, and then even gave me a plate of kimchi after asking if I like spicy foods. It was an incredible dinner and I savored every bite. It made the cold rain and frightening solo travel well worth it. I wandered back towards the ticket gates with a full, warm stomach, and snagged a bread for my bag to eat at my next arrival. I was met again by an icy ticket clerk, but I managed to pry from them their suggested route back to the airport. I arrived back at the airport by about 7:30/8PM, clearly still with plenty of time. I continued to wander and circle around the shops and the four different floors of the airport.
Not wanting to cause trouble by transporting fruit on an international flight (I have NO clue if this is actually prohibited...I just tend to imagine I will cause trouble no matter what) I sat down at the departures gate and ate the apple I had packed. Quite delicious, although I ate it the American way (whole) which is thought of as very strange in Japan. I still had so much time, and I ought to have brought a book. I don't actually have more than two english books with me in Japan, which I have already read numerous times. I could not find anything worth paying a lot of money for in the airport. Eventually, I sat down and drank some maccha in a cafe and tried to finish off more of my Fulbright midyear report. At long last, I went up and got in the long line to check in. I was actually glad for the line, because at least I had something to do. I was nervous the whole time that I would do something wrong and be turned away. After check in, I ran downstairs last minute to try to print my return boarding pass just in case I needed it at immigration. I was dragged, against my protests, to the airport lounge where instead of simply letting me print directly from my USB, the workers made me pay 300 yen for 30 minutes of computer time when all I needed was to print (taking only a few seconds AND I still had to pay at the printer). To be honest, I was really displeased with the attitudes and interactions I had in Osaka. Of course, I was there only a short time, and so I expect that with more experiences, I will have a better impression. I scurried back upstairs to find the gate, made it through security, blindly followed others through immigration and finally was on the plane. It was a big airbus so it took a long time to get everyone situated. I was really lucky to have a window seat, though! Two Japanese men sat next to me. The man to my right had bad breath and the perpetual expression of a gaping fish. He kept taking up most of the space, especially with his arms and shoulders, so that I felt squished. The flight took off around midnight and would arrive around 6am in the morning. It had been my intention to sleep on the flight. Just as I closed my eyes, squished though I was by my neighbor, the lights flicked on. And. Stayed. On. The whole flight! I couldn't believe it--I thought surely they would have the lights of for everyone to sleep. But not many people even seemed interested in sleeping! I do not understand. Needles to say, between not being able to move, bright lights, the man's bad breath, and my head constantly falling, I never did fall aslepp for more than a few minutes at a time. I was very aware of the long flight, watching the seconds creep by. It was still dark as I peered out of the plane window at the streets below. I could see bright trails of lights snaking through the dark ground (cars on roads, as it happens).
I landed gratefully at Kaula Lumpur. Except it is a tiny place with very little to do, and since I was only transferring planes, I had to stay in the transfer lobby. Though we arrived at 6am, my flight was not until 12:30pm. That meant another 6 hours of nothing to do. And technically, it was day two for me in the same clothes. So I felt smelly and uncomfortable. Moral of the story for me was, if you are able, direct flights seem to be the wiser decision! I should also note that this was my first complicated trip all on my own (besides, of course, the long initial trip to Japan). At times, it was quite terrifying. Especially when the weight of that independence falls upon you (for example, becoming lost about the trains in Osaka.) Of course, it can also feel rewarding when things go right. Still, for major travel I would prefer a companion. At least then you can strategize together. I love traveling on my own because of the freedom, but no so much in such complicated and unfamiliar situations. And yet, the only way to become familiar, is to try!
Part 2 (Kuala Lumpur to Chiang Mai) -- I continued to pace laps about the tiny airport, watching the seconds and minutes inch along. Finally, it was time for the gates to open. I had been standing just next to the gate for at least half an hour, so ready to get out of the airport I was tempted to run out the next open door. Just as everyone lined up, a stewardess picked up the microphone. The plane had been delayed due to traffic. The flight would take off at 1pm, if all went well. I was so frustrated. The line dissipated again. Then at last the plane arrived on the tarmak. Stepping outside, the Malaysia air was humid but not too hot. The skies were still gray and it had rained slightly. As we marched out the glass doors of the airport, walking outside through the paths to the plane, we passed people who had only just disembarked from their flight from Chiang Mai. I saw many wearing Thailand t-shirts and souvenirs. This made me more excited, and to realize even more that I was truly on my way to THAILAND.
Once I boarded my flight to Chiang Mai, I grew more and more excited. I really knew nothing of Thailand, except for the grand images left up to my imagination. Sitting right behind me was a noisy child who was not quiet for even a moment all flight. He would be told to quiet down, and then moments later raise his voice to grating levels. I was lucky once more to have gotten a window seat, however! I gazed out the window as we went, catching glimpses of clouds and ocean, and some lovely peninsulas. Embarkment/disembarkment papers were distributed. I was nervous because I did not have a pen, but the Chinese couple next to me borrowed one to me. There were preparations and announcements to land. I could see Thailand below me! Then we were on the ground, and in front of me was Chiang Mai International Airport in bold letters outside the window. I was there! I still had no idea what to expect. I knew even less about Chiang Mai--the first time I learned of it was in fact from Laurel herself. I was very nervous to go through immigration. This only being my 2nd time out of the U.S., I really felt lost and apprehensive again about such potentially touchy processes. I got in line and slowly neared the desk, hoping for a friendly clerk all the while. The Chinese tourist group ahead of me seemed very excited, but when they reached the counter they were sternly rebuked by the clerk for not fully completing the slips and were sent out of line to finish them properly. This made me very scared. I handed the clerk my papers (scared about any errors), but I was sent through successfully. Then out the gate I went, keeping an eye out for Laurel. I saw her very quickly, sitting on a bench among others and reading. I hurried over to her and surprised her. I had made it! More than a full day of traveling and I was there at last, still wearing my double layer of pants and long sleeve shirt. We hugged happily and then headed towards the exit after I stopped quick at a bathroom to shed a layer and put on a T-shirt. I also exchanged my yen for baht. I was unaccustomed to this currency and had trouble equating the values at first to something I could understand. The air was warm and the sun hot. How welcome a change it was! How happy I was to feel warmth on my skin! We went out the exit, but then had to around around to get back in to reserve a "cab." We went back out the door and were dragged this way and that, then to a bench with a number of other travelers. Cars and red trucks came and went. The whole system was disorderly and subject to the drivers whim. As I would learn more and more, drivers in Thailand may or may not be willing to take you where you hope to go, and might flat out turn you down. Laurel explained that drivers often do not wish to go to her place, because they think it is out of the way, even though it is really just next to Chiang Mai University well within the city. A couple travelers who had arrived after us were scuttled into a car. Then at last we were pushed into one as well. I tried to absorb the sights around me. It was (and still is) very surreal. We were dropped off at Laurel's apartment building and went upstairs. I had definitely been expecting Laurel's apartment to be more apartment-like. It is mostly just one big bedroom (like a hotel room), with one large double bed, a desk, and a bathroom. However, its saving grace is that it has a tiny balcony with a view of the hills. Quite a spectacular view, actually! I sure wish I had a balcony! After depositing my bag, our first step was to go to Laurel's favorite food stand down the street. It is a snack called mango and sticky rice. Laurel often goes to this same lady. There was a small table outside a shop with a large bowl, a pile of mangos, and a handwritten sign in Thai. Laurel ordered us two. I watched as the lady scooped rice from the bowl and into styrofoam cartons, then selected a mango, peeled it, and sliced it over the rice. She put them into a bag for us with spoons, two little bags of coconut milk, and two tiny bags of puffed rice crispies. Laurel suggested we go sit at the university at some outside tables to eat. We crossed the endless traffic and buzzing motorbikes to reach the other side of the street. The sun was so bright and beautiful as we walked. We sat down in the warmth and opened up our boxes. Goodness, fresh mango! And the whole snack for only 30 baht (~1 dollar!). In Japan, just one mango will cost you 4 dollars!
Laurel showed me how you pour the coconut milk and crispies over it all. It was so delicious. The rice underneath is so sweet and amazing--it is already sweetened by being cooked with coconut milk. It was heavenly. It was in that exact moment that I fell in love with Thailand.
Afterwards, we went for a stroll around campus. It was so beautiful and warm. I kept repeating this, and soaking up the air. And to see all the lovely flowers!! I was so happy. Even though it is the dry season and many plants are also dry, there was no shortage of bright flowers. There were even touch sensitive plants! Just growing naturally all over the ground, and around the streets! Laurel pointed out to me her biggest troubles with the city--primarily, the ceaseless, loud, and smelly traffic (already overwhelming to me in just a few hours!), combined with the stray dogs. Yes, indeed. Packs of stray dogs everywhere, strolling about quite naturally. "Oh, I should probably mention the wild dogs," she said casually. I was very surprised! Apparently, they frequently chase her when she goes for runs! That evening Laurel had an evening exam to give her students. I wanted so badly to go for a run. As a consequence of my weekend ice trip PLUS early departure and long flight waits, it had literally been about four days since I had run. This is far longer than I have ever allowed. My legs and body felt out of shape already and I could sense the lost muscle. But now learning about dogs that would chase me (I had already seen a few, roaming about), plus the very heavy traffic, and the fact that I had no idea where anything was or how to speak and thus feared becoming hopelessly lost, running seemed impossible. Laurel told me I could run while she taught, but I knew it was harder than she assumed because of all these worries. Nonetheless, after Laurel headed to her class and I changed into running clothes, I thought I ought to try. Taking even a few steps down the street, however, and instantly surrounded by the bustle of food stands consuming the sidewalks plus the whir of traffic, I gave up quickly. Instead, I walked a short ways in a straight line before timidly returning to Laurel's apartment (she had fortunately left me with the key). I did a few squats, wall sits, and push ups instead, but my body felt sorely disappointed. When Laurel got back, I finally had a chance to shower. Then she took me to a nearby vegetarian restaurant for dinner. This would soon become my absolute favorite place. It was only a short walk down the street. Called "Pun Pun", the restaurant is not only truly 100% vegetarian (down to every spice and oil), but also organic and local, with a huge menu. There were so many delicious options! I could hardly decide! I was happily overwhelmed, even just glancing through and reading all the delicious sounding Thai dishes. So many things included ingredients like banana flowers, cashews, peanuts, morning glory flowers, coconut, mango, on and on! I've never actually gone to a Thai restaurant before, so although I had a vague idea of Thai food (primarily that it involves a lot of peanuts), everything was new to me. Laurel suggested the black sesame shake to start. I also ordered pumpkin in milk, and a "morning glory flower" vegetable and peanut sauce dish. They were all INCREDIBLE. And for such cheap prices (50baht or about $1.50), the portion sizes were immense! I was absolutely in love. It is only a shame that I would not have longer in Thailand to try EVERY dish. Laurel ordered the Khao soy, which I too would later fall in love with. One of my most important and urgent tasks in Thailand became the goal of eating as much as possible. I've had some delicious food while in Japan, but believe it or not those foods paled in comparison to even one dish in Thailand! When we got back to the apartment, I checked my email then we graciously went to bed early. With only a light, short cover over me! No freezing, no multiple layers, only pleasant temperatures.
Day 2 in Thailand (Wednesday, 2/20) -- The next day, as Laurel had promised the evening before, we would hike up the hills that could be seen from her apartment. There are two temples on these hills/mountains. One is half way up and the other is perched towards the top. You can see its spires gleam on the horizon when you look up from the city streets. Before hiking up, we woke up early to go for a run since Laurel had to teach in the afternoon. Despite the lovely warm weather year round, it seems that Chiang Mai is not an especially good city for running. Between the dogs and busy streets, Laurel has literally settled on only three small areas to run, and simply repeat lap upon lap around these little spots. We started out walking a bit to avoid a pair of dogs that often chase Laurel, and recognize her. Then we made our way to a small arboretum path, probably only about 300m around. There were made loops. After looking forward so much to running in Thailand, free of ice and snow, here I was doing little loops just like in the tiny running or basketball court facilities in Sapporo. But GOODNESS, did it feel good to wear shorts and to feel heat on my skin. Not to be chilled and shivery from sweat! It was so amazing. After running for a little over an hour, we headed back to the apartment, showered, snagged yogurt from a 7/11 (they are everywhere in Thailand as well as Japan), then started our walk towards the hills. The first part of the walk passed down the street towards pun pun, then turned right down a quieter road. There were monks out and about in orange robes and sandals. This would become a common sight. This road was surrounded by trees and some small farm-like buildings, made of bamboo and straw, with chickens and farm animals. I could hear strange birds calling. Gradually, the road began to incline. Eventually, we came to a small path headed into the trees. This was very beaitufl. In some parts, however, the climb upwards would become extremely steep. Laurel always pushes quite the pace, and I felt like after 5 days off from running, I was already out of shape! At one point, I was completely bent in half trying to climb up. It was well worth it when we reached the first temple. This was my very first sight of the grounds of a Thai Buddhist temple. Quiet, calm, almost completely empty, and tucked away within the hills, the trees, and the green. It was so beautiful. Laurel had said she prefered this on e to the main temple. I could see why. It often hosts meditations. You even cross over a little waterfall--currently but a stream over smooth, worn stone due to the dry season--to reach it, next to a small wooden meditation platform with boddhisatva statues, candles, and curtains of flowers. After wandering about for a while, reading the sayings posted on trees, seeing the many statues and buildings, we headed up the road a bit to pick up the small dirt trail again. This part of the hike was especially steep, although it was punctuated by a number of lovely sights, like giant leaves and beautiful plants. We finally emerged--me quite winded--onto the busy paved road again and it was only a short ways around the bend until we were met by vendor-lined paths, leading up to the main temple entrance of Doi Sutehp. This area was busy and bustling, nothing like the still, peaceful lower temple. Still, it was exciting. The first thing we did was buy a bottle of just-squeezed orange juice and drink it up! It tasted cold and wonderful after our long hike (about an hour and a half upwards). Then I proceeded to buy as much freshly cut fruit as possible. In Japan, I am accustomed to fruit costing an arm and a leg. Often about $1.40 for one apples! And don't even think about buying watermelon! In Chiang Mai, fruits vendors line every street selling bags of many slices of all kinds of fruit you can imagine, with little wooden toothpicks to eat them with--and for only 10 to 20 baht, less than a dollar! I made it a very serious goal to consume as much fruit as possible, prizing each bite dearly. After orange juice, I bought bags of pineapple and papaya at least, before we even entered the temple. As we approached the long, long staircase, we stepped aside to slip on skirts over our shorts. In most temples, garb like shorts and tank tops are not acceptable and you can be turned away. You must wear at least a t-shirt and longer pants of a skirt to be respectful. We began to climb up the staircase, whose rails were the rippling bodies of dragons. There were so many people, Thai and tourist alike. Thailand is a very Buddhist country and many people go to temple every day I was entranced by it all. The the top of the stairs, there was a sign directing foreigners (in English only) to pay an entry fee. But Laurel slyly went past it. (Only writing such a sign in English, by the way, reveals one of the many discriminatory actions in Thailand which I will describe more later--primarily, if you LOOK obviously "foreign"--i.e. non Asian--you will be treated very differently. If you look Asian, regardless of your country, and do not say anything, you will not be singled out. But those stories for another moment.) There is the temple itself in the center and you can also walk around the buildings surrounding it. We went to the stairs and took off our shoes to go inside, and join all the other barefoot temple-goers. Inside was simply gorgeous. It was coated in gold and orange, with ornate patterns, buddha statues, and decorations. I was truly in awe. First we wandered about, looking at all the tantalizing sights. Then we went inside a small room where groups were kneeling in front of a monk, who recited a blessing. We knelt down amongst them, and when the monk finished he splashed droplets of water into the crowd, smiling and saying "blessings for you, bless you!" You are supposed to inch forwards on your knees to have a small cotten string tied around your wrist by the monk. Feet are considered very dirty in Thailand, and the main reason you kneel before monks is to avoid pointing your feet at them, which is extremely rude. Because monks and not permitted to touch women, women must go to the side and have the cotton string tied by a helper. Although it is tradition, I cannot help but be a little insulted. The theory behind it, according to Laurel, is apparently that women may act as a temptation to the monks. In my opinion, however, that should not mean that women may not receive their blessing or not interact with them. That is to punish the woman! Rather, the monk should practice his own restraint and teachings, rather than shifting the consequences to others. But nonetheless, I was very happy for the experience and the blessing. After that, we walked three times around the large statue in the middle, reciting a prayer. You could buy lotus flowers, incense, or candles for this as well as offerings. I wish I understood more of the significance of everything. I almost lost count of how many laps we had done--and we may have done one extra. We exited the temple then and retrieved our shoes to wander around the outside. There were so many figures, statues, alters, and practices which were all new to me. Lastly, we went to see the view of Chiang Mai city from the rail. Perched upon the mountainside, Doi Suthep offers an incredible view. Leaning on the wall and gazing below with the warm sun about me, it was truly magnificent. It was a pleasure for all the senses--the scents of flowers and incense, the warm touch of sun, the landscape, the chirping birds and ringing bells, and the promise of delicious fruit. After descending the long stairs, I even bought some MORE fruit, a bag of sugarcane, a bag of pamello with spicy salt (as per Laurel's suggestion), and another orange juice. Laurel bought a sweet Thai tea. We wandered to some stone benches and tables in the shade behind the venders and ate our fruit and munched sugarcane. What an amazing experience! I felt so grateful and fortunate for everything that had occurred, and my happiness showed on my face. I told Laurel that, even if my experience of Thailand were only that one day, I would be happy. Still only around midday, Laurel suggested we take a red truck (soung tong?) up a bit further to the Hmong village at the top. Being from Minneapolis, Hmong culture is quite familiar to me, but in reality it seems that many outside of southeast Asia are unaware. We had to struggle a bit with the driver, who insisted on waiting and waiting til he had collected 6 people, and we had only 4 in the truck. After waiting quite a while in the hot back of the truck, he told us if we paid double he would drive up with only 4. Clearly, he was ripping us off (as all drivers attempt to do to foreigners, though not to other Thai). But I paid anyways, and we were off. The red truck wound up and up, and the trees and lovely views as we drove were astounding. We passed the King's summer palace on the way. At the top, there were more vendors and many small streets lined with tents selling crafts. The red truck said it would wait for us for 1 hour. We strolled through the streets, and even into some "residential" side streets. Although many of the homes were quite small and simple, with straw or tin thatched roofs, there were odd juxtapositions like fancy cars or satellites, hidden here and there, or peeking out of sheds--indicating the interesting mix of simplicity and modernity, plus the earnings from tourism! There were chickens and cats and dogs walking about, and beautiful views and flowers. Both laurel and I were envious of such a life, up in the pleasantly warm mountains. I could see myself as a painter or a writer, living happily and simply in the easy mountain temperatures, selling artwork and farming. That is certainly a future I hope to achieve (but first I want to get some positive change moving in this world!). We strolled back down, I was talked into buying a bag by a friendly but persistent vendor woman who insisted she had made the bag herself though I later saw them everywhere, then we got back in the red truck to head down. I enjoyed the warm breeze as we drove. Because it was getting closer to Laurel's 4:30 class, we opted to take a red truck back down the mountain. We hopped in and again had to wait in the hot truck for more people to slowly pile in. We munched on sugar cane as we waited. As we headed down, Laurel even dozed. Back on the street where we had started our hike that morning, we searched for a walking icecream vendor. Laurel had described their intriguing, uniquely Thai creation. Sticky white rice is layered with scoops of icecream between two slices of white bread. Then peanuts and chocolate sauce is sprinkled on top. I don't know who had the idea to make such a combination, as it sounds odd, but it is a delicious treat.
The red truck had dropped us off closer to a street that was near to where Laurel had to tutor that afternoon at 4:30pm. Laurel was still drowsy from the warm weather, our hike, and our ride back down. Having a bit of time to spare before she would need to walk to her tutoring, and feeling thirsty myself, I asked if she would like an iced coffee and I would get something with fruit. Walking down the street, we found a cafe. I ended up getting an iced green tea. We drank these, and I drank many cups of water as well. After parting, the plan was that I would walk back to her apartment and work on my reports for the hours she was tutoring. Then I would walk back and meet her. I checked with Laurel again to learn the directions back to her apartment, which she mentioned would take about 40 minutes walking. According to Laurel, or at least according by her tone, it should be a very "simple" route. Go straight into the university gates, then turn left and stay left, following the busiest road until you reach the street of Laurel's apartment and all the food vendors. In theory, it did not sound difficult. Slightly apprehensive, I headed off. Walking straight, I took the first left just as explained. However, very soon after the road split right and left. The road to the right had busier traffic, but Laurel had said to stay left. Yet if I stayed left, it would bring me in a loop back to the road I had started from. Trouble already. I decided to take the fork to the right, because it was the busier one, and Laurel had said to follow traffic. Feeling a little reassured, I followed this. However, very soon, the sidewalk itself ended, and traffic bent around a busy curve. I thought surely I had done something wrong. I turned back, and tried again. But every time, there seemed to other way but the busy, busy street, or roads that ended. I spent a good hour trying to sort out Laurel's "directions." Then I gave up, tried to find a wifi connection for my phone, and figure out where I was on a map. I typed in Laurel's address to find a route. Because it is a university, and because it is not Japan (where wifi is practically unheard of), I was able to pull up a map. It looked like I could go around the outside of campus by main roads to reach her apartment. So I turned around, went back to the road wherefrom I had started, then followed the busy streets on my map. After about 45 minutes of walking and not reaching anything recognizable, I began to doubt whether the map had actually located Laurel's address. I gave up and turned back before I became too hopelessly lost. I still had about an hour or so before Laurel would be done. To spend time, I wandered through the student market across the street, but it was busy and crowded. Defeated, and knowing that there was not time for me to get back to the apartment even if I knew the way, I sat down on a bench near the university gate and next to a soccer field. I sat here as dusk slowly fell, and read an Issac Asimov short story that happened to be on my phone. Mosquitos gradually appeared and started to bite my ankles. I had also wanted to reach Laurel's apartment to retrieve her wallet for her, so she would have money for dinner that evening. When we went to the temple that morning she had only brought a little money with her, which had been quickly spent on fruit. Before we had left the temple she had run out, and so I had paid for snacks and rides after that point. This was no trouble to me, because I was happy to treat her. But she had asked me to grab her wallet from her apartment after I went there, and since I had not been able to reach it, I was nervous that we would not have enough money for dinner. I only had 150 baht left (about 6 dollars) in my bag, and I wasn't sure if that would be enough for two dinners. That evening, we were planning to eat dinner with one of Laurel's friends. At last, 6:30 arrived and I walked the short distance to the gate to meet Laurel. I told her that I had not been able to find the way back, and we headed to try to find dinner. She called her friend to find out where it would be, and we started our rather long walk there. Sidewalks are not always available in Chiang Mai, and traffic is a persistent whir. So walking along the roadsides, it was always a little stressful. There are few sounds that cause me more stress than that of traffic near to my ear. Many restaurants and buildings in Chiang Mai are open to the air, or have a roof with open walls or windows, since the weather is always warm. This restaurant was mostly roof, with some fences and plants for walls. We entered, and Laurel saw her friend. We joined her at the table. Her name is Jackie, and she is also teaching English at Chiang Mai University. She greeted us kindly, and we all slipped into conversation. I introduced a bit about myself, and we compared aspects of our respective experiences in different countries. For example, we compared gender dynamics in Thailand and Japan. An interesting part of Thai culture is that, for all practical purposes, there are actually three categories of gender--male, female, and "lady boy." A "lady boy" is a man who dresses and acts very (stereotypically) effeminately. However, he may not necessarily be gay. And to be a "lady boy" is not generally considered to be a bad or negative thing, as it would be in the United States. It is mostly just considered to be another "gender" category--a third gender. I asked if there was an equivalent for women, and Jackie said that there are certainly "tomboys," and that there are some women who cut their hair short and dress more masculine. They, too, might not necessarily be gay. I was surprised to learn about this unexpectedly progressive situation amidst what is otherwise a rather "traditional" and "austere" society that resists change. Therefore, although Thai culture may be extremely anti-change, it does seem to contain an intriguing mixture of discrimination and acceptance. Looking at the menu of the restaurant, which was not specifically vegetarian, I asked for suggestions of what to order. One of my major goals while in Thailand was to eat as much Thai food as possible, and so every meal was a precious decision. Jackie suggested the Pad Thai, and requested when we ordered that it be made vegetarian. She also suggested I order a fried egg to go on top. It appears that Thai people love fried eggs as much as Japanese people love raw eggs. This turned out to be an excellent decision. The meal was, as all Thai dishes, delicious.
Day 3 (Thursday, 2/21) -- Laurel had class at 8:30 in the morning. We both woke up a little after 7am, and she got ready to go. Together we walked to the 7/11 that is up the street from Laurel's apartment so that she could grab breakfast. I waved her off, and then I went down the food street to find some delicious fried bananas for my own breakfast. It was only a little after 8am at this point, and like in Japan, vendors and restaurants take their time getting set up in the morning. The lady was still mixing the batter and frying the first batch of bananas, and told me they were not yet done. I went across the street to buy a large bottle of water while waiting. Tap water in Chiang Mai, according to Laurel, is not potable for the most part. In Japan and in the United States, I almost exclusively drink tap water because I absolutely dislike the bottled water industry, so this was a bit of a shame. However, for 1baht (less than a penny), you can fill up your water bottles at UV ray machines. The vendor was still not quite finished with the bananas when I returned, but I waited for her to finish. For 20baht (about 80 cents), I received a heaping bag full of delicious fried bananas. I carried my prize happily back to the apartment. I savored each slice as I worked on my Fulbright mid-year report. Nearing 10am, and feeling satisfied for the moment with my report, I grabbed my bag. To reach the old city, Laurel had instructed me to simply walk straight down the main food street outside her apartment (Suthep street) until I ran into the old city wall. Suthep is a busy street, and as you may know by now, as streets (and most sidewalks) in Chiang Mai are crawling with motorbikes. The sidewalk disappeared and reappeared at will, often being blocked by vendors or motorbikes. Laurel had estimated it would be about a 40 minute walk. She had spoken of this walk as though it were so very far, but I enjoyed it for the most part. The sun was out, the weather was pleasant. It only took me a little over half an hour to reach what I guessed to be the start of the old city. The old city is laid out in a large square, perhaps a square mile in total. This square is surrounded by pieces of the old wall, and part of a moat. Seeing a wall in front of me, I ducked and dodged through the lanes of endless traffic to enter. Within the old city, sidewalks are even more ambiguous than elsewhere. In general, it seems you walk where you can. Nervous about getting lost, I tried to keep my twists and turns simple. I wanted to remember each road, in order to back track. However, I felt this cautiousness was hampering my ability to really see and enjoy the city. Gradually, I worked up the courage to wander farther. The old city is filled with more wats (temples) than you can imagine. There is almost always one within sight. The road that I followed seemed to be a busy one, and I passed some large, very pristine looking buildings. Some were museums, district buildings, and schools. The old city is also full of tourists and visitors. In some places, they even seemed to out number Thai people. If I had to guess, the old city is likely the largest tourist area of Chiang Mai. Prices, to my great frustration, were all double what they are outside of the old city. If you don't look Thai, you can guarantee you're going to be charged a "tourist" price. Although I peeked into the many beautiful wats, through their gates, I was too sheepish to enter. I did not want to offend anyone, or do anything wrong, especially when I could not speak any Thai even to apologize. Although I found the wats to be so ornate, colorful, and beautiful, I admit that I was slightly disappointed by the old city. This is likely because I had expecting it to differ more dramatically from the rest of the city. Aside from the higher tourist density, and wats per square meter, there were shops and buildings like anywhere else. So much seemed to be laced blatantly with tourism to the point of feeling uncomfortable to me. If I paused for too long, red trucks or tuk tuk motorcarts would ask me would try to urge me into a ride. One of my biggest troubles while in Thailand, indeed, was the degree of separation I felt between Thai people and "tourists." I do not really like the blanket term tourist, to begin with. I feel that there is a difference between going to a country as a tourist (to SEE only, and to take only what you wish, as though it is laid out for your benefit only) as opposed to visiting a country. Maybe this difference is only to comfort myself, as I consider myself to be the latter. All these people coming to see Chiang Mai, so many, it was clear, came only to take, only to see what they wanted and act as they wanted. This obviously is not true for all those who come to Thailand. Most definitely not. However, the effect of the self-centered tourist, as I have described, was evident everywhere. Often when I passed Thai people on the street, trying to smile and appear friendly, I could hear the word "farang" uttered condescendingly behind me. "Farang" is Thai for "foreigner." As far as I could tell, it has negative connotations. From the general tone, you would have guessed they spoke of something obnoxious or unappealing--simply put, not Thai, and forever separate and ignorant. It reminded me of the word "gaijin" in Japanese. I dislike to be called either. The number of times I hear "gaijin" uttered in my presence is beyond count. "Gaijin" literally means "outsider" or "outside person." It is a truncation of the word "gaikokujin," meaning literally "person from another (outside) country." When shortened as it is, it sounds so harsh and excluding to me. If I use the word at all, I try to use "gaikokujin." As I think about it, traveling to Thailand was my very first experience as a "tourist." In coming to Japan, it was with the goal of living here for a year. While I am still often held at arm's length, or regarded as "foreign", I am not a tourist. I am a resident, even if it is only for a little while. In Chiang Mai, I was not a resident. I was visiting for only a week. It saddened me to be judged, and dealt with accordingly, simply by my face. One of my biggest barriers to try to counteract this was the fact that I did not speak Thai. If I EVER travel to another country again, I am making it a requirement that I learn at least a little bit of the language prior to arriving. This is a basic courtesy, for one thing, and at least in some small way might help to interact with others in a positive way. If you visit a country, it should be with respect and interest for the culture of that country. Not self-centeredness and entitlement. I have more to reflect on this, for other days. Somehow, I very successfully navigated myself back towards where I had entered. On the way, I passed a colorful looking shop selling buns. They resembled what are called "manju" in Japanese--white, soft dough with a center of meat, bean paste, fruit, or any filling you can imagine. At this shop, there were all sorts of colors and unique flavors. Black sesame, pumpkin, coconut custard, sweet corn, bean paste with chestnut, taro, mango, and these are just a handful. I had trouble choosing, as always, but then selected bean paste with chestnut at the center. The lady heated it up for me. I ate it as I hurried back towards Laurel's apartment, not wanting to be late. However, true to my love of food and vendors, I also bought a thai ice cream sandwich (to cool off from the noonday sun, of course!) and further down a bag of watermelon. Two HUGE slices, for only about 80 cents. My brain really has been altered by the prices of fruit in Japan. Watermelon is very literally given as a gift, because it is so expensive in Japan. I rarely eat it, except as a treat. I did my best to make up for lost time. Looking like a goofball as I tried to balance a giant slab of watermelon on a tiny wooden stick as I walked, I enjoyed each juicy bite! I saved the other to give to Laurel. Even with all my distractions, I arrived a bit early and waited for Laurel at the gate, underneath a cluster of vines with small, pinwheel purple flowers. For lunch that day, Laurel had us go to the Chiang Mai University student cafeteria which has a cheap, but delicious vegetarian buffet. For about a dollar, you receive a heaping plate of rice, and your choice of the vegetarian dishes ladeled over it. I chose three different dishes. Laurel has a habit of pouring red pepper over her food. I tried to follow her example, but could not quite tolerate as much, though I love spice. I also drank a whole bottle of water in one sitting. By the end, I felt very full for once! I almost never feel full! After lunch, in order to digest the food in our protruding bellies, we went for a little stroll. I had a chance to glimpse the university agricultural fields, reminding me of the agricultural fields at Hokkaido University. After our stroll, we went back and changed into running clothes. It was a tough run for me in the heat of the day, and with Laurel seemingly trying to push the pace as I stubbornly tried to hold us steady. Afterwards we came back and showered. Unlike in my frozen room in Sapporo, showers in Chiang Mai are refreshing to emerge from, not traumatizing. I always looked forward to them. Feeling clean and happy, we went to dinner at another vegetarian restaurant. As usual, I had trouble deciding between all the delicious sounding meals. I finally selected a cashew and tofu dish, with a fried egg. It was wonderful. After dinner, Laurel took us to what is apparently a very popular ice cream shop. Approaching it, it was clear why. The atmosphere is charming. There are christmas lights draped from the trees and walls, and hanging from the branches above a quirky, large sculpture were colorful lanterns. The ice cream flavors all looked wonderful. I had trouble, once again. I decided on three scoops -- Adzuki/green tea, Rose apple, and Cherry Milk. They were each scrumptious. It was also enjoyable to see many Thai people at the shop, as well. As we were leaving, we could feel a change in the air. Even while walking to the shop, the wind was odd, and now it had picked up in errant gusts. The sky was dark with night, but there must have been clouds above as well. It seemed that some weather was upon us. Sure enough, after walking only a short ways and feeling this change encircle us, small droplets fell. I asked if Laurel could feel them, and gradually she could as well. There was a swell in the air, and I knew suddenly that there would be a downpour. Within moments, there was. Everyone in the streets ducked for cover beneath overhangs and shops. I felt sorry for the motorbikers, drenched before us. I feared that many would crash, because they drove on, even though the heavy rain was likely blinding. I felt fortunate that Thai shop keepers, unlike Japanese shops, don't kick you out from their overhangs when it is raining. It is technically the dry season in Chiang Mai, and according to Laurel there had not been rain for around a month. But I am very good at summoning rain. Extremely good at it, in fact. I told Laurel that surely it followed me from Sapporo to Osaka, where it had been turned from snow to rain. Then, after a few days journey across the ocean, it had caught up to me in Chiang Mai. Obviously, that is arrogant to presume that I could be the cause of the rain. But I must say, it has followed me doggedly throughout Japan. Now, I had caused it to downpour in the dry season. It subsided slightly, and we tried to make it a little further. Suddenly, I could feel the air swell again and within seconds it was downpouring again. We ducked for cover once more. This time, the shopkeepers, who were all still around working, even brought us a bench to sit on while we waited! How kind! Like I said, I have literally been shooed out of overhangs in Japan (at least in Tokyo) during freezing rain while stopping only for a few moments to check the address! I was so appreciative of this kindness. The shopkeepers did not mind at all that we sought refuge, and accommodated us happily. Despite the general attitudes towards "farang," Laurel told me that Thai people are otherwise extremely kind, especially in situations like rain, or if you look lost and need a ride. At the same time, they also become nervous amidst displays of dramatic emotion, such as tears or anger. There is a saying in Thai called "sabai sabai." I'm not sure exactly how to translate it (I can't remember), but it's a little bit like "it is what it is" or more casually, "it's all cool." Finally, the rain abated. We thanked the shop keepers and bowed, giving them a "wai" (holding your palms together in front of your face and bowing). The streets were wet and puddly, and our feet got wet as well. We felt damp, and both bemoaned our dislike of unexpected rain and wetness. When we reached the food street outside of Laurel's apartment, I had us stop to buy Roti. Laurel had said I ought to try it before the end. It is actually a more middle-eastern or muslim inspired fried snack. It is a square of thin, crispy fried dough with fruit or other fillings layered inside. I chose banana honey (although there were many tantalizing options like sweet corn, chocolate banana, strawberry, etc). It was so wonderful. It made up for the rain, and we ate them happily and quickly as we walked back towards Laurel's apartment. As a last stop, we stopped and bought some band-aids, just in case we got blisters on our trek planned for the next two days.