Full Circle to Bangkok

Back from a beach shared with dozens of other folks to a city of 10 million. That's quite a change. We also notice the difference in heat from the sun -- not nearly so torrid here. And clouds. First time we've had shade for a while -- and I must say it's welcome.

But getting here and wrapping up the trip causes me to contemplate a bit. We sure have covered a lot of ground in a few short weeks: from the extreme north of the country to the deep south as well as the length of both Laos and Cambodia. But one constant has accompanied us throughout -- and it is our fellow tourists that have caused me much pondering.

Things have changed a great deal since Ingrid and I first went to Central Asia in the mid-70's -- OK that's a trivial statement, but what I mean is that the character of our fellow travellers has undergone a transformation.

I've been thinking in terms of Tourist 2.0.

Back at the dawn of time, Ingrid and I travelled in order to more fully experience a variety of cultures, to better understand our place among the societies of the world, to meet people from other nations and to learn about ourselves as culturally-placed young Canadians. Many of the others we met on the road were undertaking a smiliar voyage. Our ethic reflected that of the the 60's and 70's, but we were clearly seeking new understandings.

And we were isolated from our normal lives by distance and principally by primitive commuications technology.

Things have changed. Most of today's 20-somethings seem to travel in order to party hearty. The raggedy backpacking chicks of yore have been much displaced by young ladies who can hardly shoehorn their wardrobes into hard-sided suitcases that require bungee straps on the cab trunks.

Cute dresses and halters have replaced patched jeans. And I'll grudgingly admit they look way sexier. Which makes sense, because they are here to party.

That's curmudgeonly. This is even more so. Over and over we see young folks casting their social networks over new experiences before they've quite had the experience. Dozens hermeticaly sealed in air-conditioned internet cafes, others texting and chatting on cells while seated in a noodle stand. Skyping and Facebooking, and youtubing and myspacing seems to significantly disengage them from the immediacy of the possible experience.

But there can't be any blame attached to this observation -- indeed the locals do the same: minority girls in colourful costume texting, shopkeepers gaming on line between customers, airport staff bluetoothing with their girlfriends.

The world IS flat. We ARE deeply dedicated to our social networks. Pensioners have blogs.

So I knew the world was getting flatter. I just didn't recognize that so much of it had turned into a dance floor!

OK I'll admit it

Beaches can be a marvellous place to spend a few days.

And sandy beaches, even though they glare white in the sunshine, and even if the sand is as fine as icing sugar, can seem awfully darned comfortable.

Of course the thing these Thai beaches bring that's extra are the ubiquitous and tall karst formations -- those narrow flowerpot islands that rise hundreds of feet vertically out of the sea to provide visual relief from all those watery shades of blue: from navy to aquamarine, and most often shading through turquoise.

The problem is the sun. Rather close to the equator here, the sun has a fury that is not immediately evident with a gentle zephyr drawing across your recumbent body on aforesaid soft sand. Nor do you immediately notice the blazing solar fire when you are adequately hydrated with cheap beer.

But back in the hotel room, when you lie on the sheets that yesterday felt like fine linen and today seem like 30-grit sandpaper -- that's when you realize that sun has some real punch.

Sadly, Ingrid and I are on our way to Bangkok later this afternoon to catch the plane home. Where did 5 weeks go?

An Apology

Sorry to have been dilatory in blogging.

I can only offer in defense that we have been on a small coastal island without electricity -- called Koh Jam.

It was lovely -- long long white beaches with only a handful of folks, no loud music -- hell, no music at all except for acoustic guitars. We would take our kerosene lamps up to our huts along the edge of the jungle shortly after sunset to sleep ridiculously long hours until the sun was up again.

And now we're in Koh Phi Phi -- which was only about 4 hours away in a longtail, but is a continent away in terms of culture.

Actually, you cannot differentiate Koh Phi Phi from any other all-inclusive-riddled resort town: you could be in Puerto Vallarta, Hawaii, a Greek Island, and have no sense of the culture in which the hotels and restaurants have been developped. Just about everything has been erradicated except profit, and of that there is a great deal.

Some would find this comfortable, I suppose. Ingrid and I can hardly wait to get out and have only given it two days -- we're headed off to Krabi tomorrow on the morning ferry.

Thanks for reading. I'll provide a less cynical and more graphically intertesting post from there!

Killing Fields

This has clearly been the most emotional day so far. In fact, it almost seems obscene to put into words what I saw today, though it is only a record of events from 30 years ago.

Tuol Sleng was a high school, place of learning and promise for the future and it was turned into the infamous S21 torture centre. It has been kept just as it was when Pol Pot used it as such, and it is the purely banal nature of such outrageous evil that hit me so hard.

Pictures of the victims are arrayed in a gallery (all were photographed at intake), and their eyes hypnotised me -- the shy smiles of hopeful young girls, the blank stares of stunned infants, the eye-bulging terror of one man and the snivelling pouty fear of another.


And I found out that Donald Rumsfeld did not invent water boarding -- they used it here very satisfactorily.

The Killing Fields surprised me by their modest size -- just far enough out of town to keep a secret, they made up in horror what they lacked in extent. I am uncomfortable chatting casually about the evil: but here is a detail that will reveal the profundity of it -- they have a tree maintained beside the mass grave for young women and children, the tree against which they would dash out the infants' brains.

I know that's too much for some -- the terrible thing is that I could go on and on reporting on what I saw.

But I won't.

Angkor Wat

Angkor Wat and the associated area is truly amazing. AND -- in case anyone was worried about my vocabulary becoming impoverished while not speaking much English, let me assure you I can now -- having visited the ruins -- sprinkle such words as "laterite", "corbelling," and "quincunx"convincingly into virtually any sentence. Like that one.

It's hard to put the experience into words, even such double-barreled ones. I think it's the incredible extent of the place that is so amazing: here's a frinstance -- 1000 years ago this year (in 1010) they built a water reservoir 8 kilometers long and 3 wide, and it has been in continuous use since.

And once I had the image of touring New York in a thousand years, nothing left but hollow buildings with preserved antiques, I could not get it out of my mind.

I weas outraged, however, to see in Phnom Penh that we now have to work to find draft beer at fifty cents per mug. The difficulties of travel seem legion.