Sunday, April 27, 2008

Liquid ammunition

Flack jacket and protective gear...check.

Gun...check.

Ammo...check.


Map outlining area of operations...check.

Out there, it's an urban war. A guerrilla war. The kind of war where you just never know when you're going to get hit...


It's my first time in battle and I feel every bit the nervous, green soldier. My recon partner seems more relaxed, probably because she's been in-country before. We're camped in a green-zone right in the middle of the action, just outside the main walls of the old city. Our objectives are to survey the surrounding area, locate food supplies, and observe enemy movements.


I'm in a state of sensory overload. In the distance, I hear the shrieks of other soldiers in battle. It's hot. Sticky hot. My hands feel clammy. I can't help but flinch at every moving object, automatically steeling myself for an onslaught. I feverishly suck down a couple of litres of chlorinated, sodium-enriched water.

This war has been going on for years...an internal conflict that more and more foreign mercenaries are beginning to join, many simply for the thrill of adventure. Our intelligence reports that child soldiers, some as young as three years, are willfully participating. The enemy are camped in all directions, waiting for any opportunity to snipe unsuspecting newbies like me. I'm told the locals target your head and neck. Worse still, the foreign mercenaries, many of whom are outrageously high on a plethora of drugs, unforgivingly aim for the face.

Our orders are to move out. I step out into the fray.

I see thousands of enemy lining the streets, unafraid of opposing movements...seconds later I'm hit with an almighty salvo of liquid ammunition. I look around for my partner - she's been hit as well. We rush for cover, but they're everywhere.....


In the middle of April, there's no need to shower or wash your clothes in Chiang Mai. The locals (and many farang) kindly do it for you as you wear them walking down the street. The scene is called 'Songkran', a festival of pure aquatic pandemonium, where the Thai's celebrate the onset of their lunar new year.

Chiang Mai, roughly 700km north-east of Bangkok, is reputed to be Thailand's Songkran epicentre, as many Thais travel back to their home province for the holiday period, and many farang fill the hostels and hotels excited about being able to experience the world's biggest and longest water fight.

Back in the day, Chiang Mai was a key pit stop for traders traversing the Asian continent and beyond. The city was therefore also a hotspot for the good old frictional game of conquer and control. In the 11th century, a bloke by the name of King Mengrai built a square wall and moat around the city, in a bid to stop the city's arch-rivals, the Burmese mob, from getting in.

These days, the wall has pretty much been demolished by time, and temporary pumps provided by the government suck water out from the moats to now service a different fight.

Literally tens of thousands of people line the streets in Chiang Mai every day for four days during the festival. The roads close to the moat move at a snail's pace, with ute-loads of people liberally dispensing with barrels and barrels of water. Sort of like George St Sydney on a Saturay night, only with gallons and gallons of water. And less greasy hairdos.

Just about every kid - old and young - has a water pistol/cannon. The ones that don't, are likely swinging or jumping from trees into the dark grey moat water.

From a spiritual perspective, Thais celebrate Songkran by 'bathing' Buddha images; and the hands of monks and elders' are sprinkled with water (more on that later...).

Songkran for me was a wonderfully foreign experience. I couldn't help but think that something like it just wouldn't work in Australia, especially on a national scale...people would just get too agro, go over the top and the police would have to jump in, a la the Cronulla riots.

The people in Chiang Mai were dripping with joy and celebration...an amazing atmosphere to experience.

Here's a few more pics to demonstrate more of the craziness that is Thailand's yearly Songkran festival:

Ice was big on the streets of Chiang Mai. The locals would buy a block like this, dunk it into a huge barrel, fill the barrel with water, then splash or pour said water on your head. A good way to get over a hangover.

One of the most random experiences, there was a end-of-festival parade through the streets of Chiang Mai, finishing at the provincial Ambassador's residence. We ended up joining in with the beating drums, cymbals, singing and dancing. The lady next to me gave me my lei, as she was impressed with my pink singlet (a colour considered regally respectful in Thailand).

Big wet action from the back of the utes.

More action on the streets. Note the guy with the cannon at the bottom right.

Thousands of people lined the streets.

I'm not sure if this kid was scared of this guy because he was dressed like RoboCop, or because of the imminent soaking he was about to receive.


Fetching water from the moat.

Friday, April 25, 2008

A Thai holiday

Even the Thais like a touch of island paradise every now and then.

Clare and I, along with some friends of ours, decided to venture to Koh Samet for one of Thailand's squillion long weekends. Koh Samet is situated just off the south-eastern coastline 5.5hrs bus ride below Bangkok.

Thankfully, the island isn't (yet) bursting at the seams with English backpackers and seedy European pedophiles. It's where Thais (albeit relatively rich Thais) go for a family holiday.

The island is supposed to be protected by National and Marine Parks restrictions, however the lure of the tourist dollar seems to be Phi-Phi-ing the tourist spots on the island - accelerating development on the island at the expense of some of the island's natural areas.

But who am I to complain? I'm not Thai, and I'm the one that's paying with 'the tourist dollar'. I just hope the mistakes of the islands in the Andaman Sea aren't repeated in the Gulf of Thailand.

Koh Samet's coastline is beautiful, marine live still abundant, and has enough holiday amenities to keep you comfortable. (But no Pay TV Super 14 Rugby in the bars, as I emotionally found out...)

But by far the coolest thing about Koh Samet was the fresh seafood at prices that would make patrons at seaside RSL's back home choke on their battered fleck 'n chips.

Open-plan beachside bbq's greet you with an eye-popping array of seafood, including oysters, prawns, scallops, whole fish and lobster....usually accompanied by a simple chilli and lime sauce. From memory, I think I paid AUD$9 for two beers, a dozen scallops and a dozen large prawns!

After handpicking your dinner, you simply pull up a mat and low-sitting table on the beach (similar to the middle-eastern style), sink beers, eat and enjoy candlelight conversation.

Whilst the visibility was a little hazy, the snorkeling was still pretty good during the day. I was twice able to check out some excellent coral shelves, which boasted more fluro than a Sydney music festival. The sea life was also fantastic, with fish darting in and out of the coral corners. A great, quiet antidote to the intensity of Bangkok.


Clare and I charted a speed boat to get to the island - it was totally James Bond.

They even serve Koori noodle with tofu on Koh Samet. Ouch!

Friday, April 11, 2008

You've changed...

I heard a rumour the other day that the Australian Government is mooting an assistance package to Australian dairy farmers after milk consumption has strangely and rapidly decreased in the past month.

Very un-Rudd like, the word on the street's that Kevin is even calling for an inquiry into what people are now coining 'milkgate'.

Just kidding...

Since I left Australia, my milk consumption has decreased from an average 1-1.5L a day, to about 0.5L per week. Furthermore, good quality meat that isn't in bed with Mr E. Coli is also pretty hard to find in and around my Soi, so I have been eating a lot of vegetarian-based dishes.

And yet another slap in the face to my old Aussie dairy farming mates, I'm starting to drink soy milk. Oh God.

Fresh, cheap, pleasantly-flavoured milk seems to be hard to come by in Thailand. There's UHT and powder - which I don't mind - but after my stint in hospital, I seem to have reformed into a soy-drinking, vegetable-eating girly-man.

I need help.

Can someone please send a batch of bovine-related products to arrest this decline in self...at the very least, I'll need a few litres of milk and a basket of assorted cheeses (and some nice crackers!).

Getting to know the Thai health system

As some of you may know, I was hospitalised last week with a nasty form of gastroenteritis, which included a bouncing fever between 36 and 39.4 degrees; constant, quaintly artistic dihorrea & vomiting; mass inflammation of the gastrointestinal tract; and some general weightloss over the four days good enough for Australia's Biggest Loser.

The hospital itself is refuted to be the best in Thailand and it's facilities some of the best in the world. I have never known of a hospital where the nurses are so attentive.

Perhaps it was because, as I found out later, the nurses thought I "rook rike George Crooney". 'George Clooney'...come on! I don't look that old!!! At one stage there were 7 nurses in my room asking how I felt, how many times I had gone to the bathroom that past hour and whether there was anything else they could get me.

Either way, the nurses at the hospital were amazingly helpful and made a pretty revolting time much more bearable.

But the nurses at BNH were nowhere near as amazing as my own personal nurse, Clare...whether she was directing a Thai cab driver to the hospital, giving me cool wet washer baths to fight the fever, coming straight to the hospital to see me after a full day at work, or simply working with the doctors and nurses to work out what was wrong with me when I was too lucid from the cocktail of painkillers and antibiotics.

I spent four days and three nights there, taking in about 12L of fluids through a saline drip, a heap of painkillers and anti-inflammatory meds, and about 1.5L of a hardcore antibiotics. My gastro told me that when I came in my white blood cell count was 4.5 times that of a normal person...my guts certainly felt the wrath.

How am I now? Feeling tip-top and terrific.

Napoleon was right on the money when he said that "an army marches on its stomach". After 3 weeks of my guts feeling like they had constantly been pumped up, deflated, punched and prodded, being able to now eat and feel normally has made me feel so much more enthusiastic and confident about my place in this city.

Bring on the chilli.

** By the way, I'm not nude under the bedsheet.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

A bit of a polish

Hotel Bell got a bit of a spruce up recently - it would be great to know what you guys reckon about the new layout, header and colours!

I'm practically Thai

Some exciting news - today I was able to:

  • Say good afternoon to the couple who run my local rice shack
  • Order two fried rice meals with chicken, vegetables and no (extra) chilli
  • Negotiate the price for the meal
  • Thank the cook and her offsider for the meal
....all in Thai!!!

Later I'll go down and say 'ardoi' - Thai for 'delicious'.

A seemingly small, but significant victory!