domprz

Who is going to beat this one? Just from behind Jungceylon...

Wow! That must be a direct translation. No wonder I'm finding it hard to learn Thai.

What ThaiGerd didn't tell you was that he pissed himself with laughter reading the notice..........

If it was something out of their control - incontinence may well have been a more appropriate word

It appears that you're quite comfortable with the "foreigners who know better" one.

Fascinating - It seems there are two types of expat here.

1. The enthusiastic ones who respect the Thais, their freedom, their sense of fun and - yes the dangers of their way of life and take the opportunity to indulge in it.

2. The disapproving ones with a neo-colonial contempt for the Thais, implying that they have a lower intelligence quota and would prefer a sterile life-style barricaded by a desire for safety and security above all else - if only they had the chance.

In other words those who have a life and those who may not have one but do have life assurance.

I think things could change here.. but i don't disprove of the Thais doing stupid things out of lack of means. You cant expect poor people to uphold the same safety standards when there is no money for it. I do however think that foreigners who know better should not copy stupid things.

I have a fine life here.. enjoy it a lot and i don't have life insurance. So find an other group to put me in.

Fascinating - It seems there are two types of expat here.

1. The enthusiastic ones who respect the Thais, their freedom, their sense of fun and - yes the dangers of their way of life and take the opportunity to indulge in it.

2. The disapproving ones with a neo-colonial contempt for the Thais, implying that they have a lower intelligence quota and would prefer a sterile life-style barricaded by a desire for safety and security above all else - if only they had the chance.

In other words those who have a life and those who may not have one but do have life assurance.

I'm impressed. I've only been three-up. I've seen dogs riding pillion too. I far prefer the charm of the Thai streets, people riding side-saddle and with umbrella's etc. than the "IQ" of those who come from nanny states.

I went by minivan at night. Total driving time about 10 hours. The roads are good, windy, many mountain passes.

I'm new in Thailand - only two months, but I've been wary of getting into the ex-pat drinking crowd. I think the better alternative is to try get involved with the real Thais socially, culturally, personally. Of course that is easier said than done. Does anyone have advice on how to do it?

Drink Mai Khong whisky in karaoke bars

Or beer chang in food courts

SC

Touché

Another Chiang Mai tale (or priviledged experience to share) -

I was lucky enough to be invited to a Bhuddist house blessing. The house is in Lamphun province, in a small village 100km south of Chiang Mai. It's a traditional teak one on stilts in a beautiful rural setting surrounded by rice paddies, orchards and a series of miniature mountains, their edges blurred by the trees of the jungle. Not many rooms, but all large; a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, a big open-plan living area which had been cleared for the ceremony, and an open-air balcony with a table long enough to seat a score of diners.

The living area was criss-crossed by a suspended matrix of white cotton thread. At each intersection was a carefully coiled length which would descend to touch the head of every guest when the ceremony started. All threads connected to the top of a decorated tripod which was in front of two mattresses in the furthest corner.

Five monks arrived and were greeted with very deep wais. They sat on the mattresses in lotus positions. Everyone dropped to their knees and bent their backs, as it is considered disrespectful to have one's head higher than that of a monk. I went down on my knees but, as I was twice the size of anyone else, I didn't attempt to be lower. Lawan and her parents settled under the tripod after persistently inviting me to be the one under it. I declined more persistently. It was too much of an honour, besides there would not have been space for anyone else under it with me.

Incense and 180 candles were lit. We were each handed a posy of jasmine to hold between our palms. I touched the petals to my nose, breathing the fragrance. The monks passed on a message suggesting that I sit as I please as I may not be used to kneeling, but I was determined not to have special treatment. The most senior of them, perhaps the abbot, tied a chord of soft white cotton to the tripod and unravelled it so that it ran through each one of the monks' hands. They chanted for half an hour, the two seniors without assistance, the other three chanted while reading from pages which appeared to be made from bamboo, each one different in content and length. As each completed reading, his chant merged with those of the others' until the last of them finished his script. Once the chanting ended the abbot dipped a branch into holy water, looked me in the eyes for a moment with a humorous twinkle of reassurement, and tossed the drops over us. I was urged to approach him and he broke the chord from the tripod and blessed me with a different chant while he tied the cord in a bracelet around my left wrist, then restrained me as I turned away, to do a similar blessing for the right. Thereafter the others approached and received blessings. It's much the same as taking communion in a Christian church (something I've never done, not having been confirmed). It seemed I was given special treatment as not many were blessed on both wrists.

At the end of the blessing the monks were presented a simple banquet of rice, vegetables and fruit.The rest of us went out onto the balcony to a much more varied and spicy set of dishes. They included prawns, pickled octopus, various curries with sweet jellies as fire-extinguishers, bunches of what appeared to be herbs where the leaves were plucked and chewed, giving an astounding array of flavours. My favourite was thin slices of raw water-buffalo in a delicious salty marinade.

My offer to help with cleaning up was rejected with much amusement by the women, and mock-outrage by the men. So Kikie, Marco and I went for a walk up the road to look at the rice-paddies. It was Kikie who explained much of what was going on in the ceremony. Marco is crazy about her. I understood why. She is very pretty with a neat figure, quite glamorous and sophisticated - so it was a surprise when she described herself as a jungle-girl and within a few paces showed us the leaf of a plant which, when the stem is broken and blown upon, produces soap bubbles which float like thistles through the air, and a leaf to cure bad breath, and another where the sap can be used as a bandage, immediately producing a plastic-like film. She rubbed a leaf from a teak tree to show how it exudes a red dye, daubing it playfully onto her cheeks as war-paint. I asked her if she had grown up in the jungle and she said no, in a city. It may have been Bangkok. I can't remember exactly. She had been a Buddhist nun for a year. She had worked as a tour guide for seven years, and before that? She left school and her home at the age of 14 when Her father had died.

"Ah, To make money," I had confirmed prematurely.

"No," she said speaking for the first time without a smile, "To live."

I'm new in Thailand - only two months, but I've been wary of getting into the ex-pat drinking crowd. I think the better alternative is to try get involved with the real Thais socially, culturally, personally. Of course that is easier said than done. Does anyone have advice on how to do it?

In response to "Silicon Surprise" - This happened last month:

I had frequently passed a massage parlour in the old city saying "Maybe tomorrow" in response to the inviting chorus of "Massaaaage". Eventually I felt that I should keep my word and go in for a foot massage.

The masseur was one I'd not previously seen when passing. She was stunning - unusually shy and with the most beautiful face I had yet seen in Chiang Mai. I obviously went back after a few days for a Thai massage - simply to get to know her a little better and to see her face again.

When it was over, the manager lady smiled at me and said "My sister is very beautiful isn't she?" A rhetorical question of course I confirmed my appreciation whole-heartedly. Then she said "She is he."

I think I narrowly avoided something like "The Crying Game".

Being a morning person and a people watcher. Drinking coffee 0700 to 0900 at a sidewalk table on the east side of the old town on the moat is a pleasure, I enjoy. The street sweepers will normally give a smile/nod,as will the recycle people. The wildlife (all night party people. local and farang)can display some comical and/or tragic behavior. The spurt of traffic around 0800 with assorted items for rain gear, cold weather, smog, etc. is definitely worth a watch and a photo or two if you are so inclined. Faces become familiar, both theirs and yours, and a prolonged absence of a regular face, will be questioned, seemly out of real concern.

This may be too long for a post. Forgive me (and let me know) if it is. Its an excerpt from my blog:

Walking around Chiang Mai is a little disconcerting at first. It seems that Thais seldom walk more than a block or two. The place is saturated with songthaws (go anywhere for 20 bhat), and the picturesque three-wheeler tuk-tuks (the haggling is as much fun as the journey). Motorcycles can be hired for as little as 80 bhat per day. Street pavements are cluttered with anything from pot plants and vendor stalls to sleeping dogs. Most streets are one-way. To cross them is an extreme sport - even at those with their own traffic lights.

I came to one on a busy three-lane street, pushed the button, waited patiently for the lights facing traffic to turn orange then red (which they did), and then for the one facing me to turn green (which it did - showing 13 seconds to make the crossing), and then... nothing happened. They ignored the red. A Thai couple approached from the other side, pressed the button and the traffic stopped to let them cross. Que? I tried again but instead of waiting on the pavement when the lights changed - 13 seconds, 12, 11, 10... I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment and walked across. They stopped.

I turned right after Thapae Gate, and walked past massage parlours, agencies for tours and motorbike rentals... until I got to a quaint general-dealer store and a market selling fish, fruit and vegetables. Once through that I entered what some call the guest house ghetto. It's a network of narrow lanes where houses have been converted into hostels or guest houses for backpackers. There are laundries and back-yard workshops. Some of the restaurants double up as Thai cookery schools. Some are not much more than a kitchen in a tin shack with a couple of plastic tables and chairs out on the road. I liked the atmosphere. I ignored the hostels, I needed solitude for writing. Most other places rented out basic rooms, some very cheap but then either the place or the staff lacked character.

I was thinking about crossing roads and traffic lights and London. We wouldn't dream of going through a red light, even if it was four in the morning and quite obviously safe to do so. It would be an automatic fine, with proof of offence being a photo from an automatic camera. We are ruled by an uncompromising system of law - policed and punished by machines - ever more automated - increasingly automatons - discretion discouraged... I'm ranting aren't I?

A laundry was set a little back from the road. A round table and two benches under a broad canvas umbrella at its entrance. A small Buddhist house shrine was garlanded with fresh flowers, a cup of tea and burning incense at it's doorway, "Lawan house" on a large sign and "rooms to let" chalked onto a board. Lawan greeted me with a Thai wai (more about them later) and one of those famous Thai smiles which sweep the shadows from my thoughts. She had four rooms. She showed me all of them. I told her which one I liked most. She looked at me sceptically as though I had made a mistake. If I was to leave Parami it would be in two days time. I was undecided. I told her I liked the place but still wanted to look at more before making up my mind. Some had better rooms and were even cheaper, but none merged with my character as seamlessly has hers had done. It was an hour later when I returned.

"I've made up my mind. I'd like to stay here from the day after tomorrow."

"Kaa. I know." she said with a serene smile, as though I had already booked in.

"I'd better tell you my name."

"It's Dominic," she said "I'll be waiting for you."

I must have told her. The worse my memory gets the more mysterious my life becomes.