Back to the U.S. song of the week - Thursday

The Flaming Lips, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Part I

Back to the U.S. songs of the week - Wednesday

Brazilian Girls, Long
The Cardigans, Iron Man

Fun with ID fraud

So I am spending the early morning hours consolidating student loans before tomorrow's deadline. I am supposed to do C's, too (my roommate in Kenya right now). Trouble is, if I call in to the 800 number pretending to be her, I am lacking some critical information. First of all, she has at least two middle names and I only know one of them. And the one I do know is not the initial that is referenced on her paperwork. How much you wanna bet they'll ask for all the blasted names?

I just sent out a last minute emergency message to her to some kind of satellite email system they've set up out in the bush of Kenya. Let's hope technology doesn't fail us now. The 2.875% rate utterly depends on it.

Back to bed.

I think the mystery middle name is Catherine, but who knows.

Back to the U.S. song of the week - Tuesday

Architecture in Helinski, Scissor Paper Rock

Thus began my first week back in Berkeley...

You go away for a month and the world caves...

So I was out of the States for a mere 29 days and I return to domestic chaos. For the last few days I have been scrambling around addressing this unforgiving laundry list.

1. A glaring 48 hour collection notice from EBMUD for unpaid water bills (my landlord pays this) - the notice was dated 6/23 and I still have water. As of this afternoon, the bill is still unpaid according to Lois, a customer account operator I talked to today.

Hmm, that will be a pleasant surprise when I go to turn the shower on tomorrow and (poof) nothing!

2. Jury summons from the Superior Court of Alameda County for my roommate who is in Africa. Luckilly, she didn't get called in, though I was kind of worried about it when I phoned the court hotline.

3. Broken pipe under my kitchen sink. My landlord is "working on it" as of yesterday. Time to pull out the duct tape I guess.

4. Starving feline at the back of my porch. My roommate Todd apparently doesn't have much pity for the thing. It looks like it's lost a few pounds since late May.

5. Student loan consolidation deadline - June 30. I got to find a few hours to get my paperwork together and lock in the lower rate. I am supposed to do the same for my Africa-bound roommate. Seeing how I have enough trouble getting my own paperwork in order...I forsee problems on this front.

6. To top it all off, Todd didn't lift any one of his little fingers while we've been away and the house was a disaster zone upon my return. I spent yesterday re-enacting scences out of Cinderella - me as the scullery maid. Thank the good Lord that he's hitting the high road from Bateman Street this month.

What disasters have befallen my fair readers this summer?

Back to the U.S. song of the week - Monday

Spoon, Lines in the Suit

Ode to plumbers

Oh, plumbers of Oakley
Come o'er to Bateman
To repair the cracked pipe
I just found under me sink

Back to the U.S. song of the week - Sunday

The Walkmen, French Vacation

Streetcar saavy

This afternoon, despite a weather forecast for rain, I took a shopping excursion into downtown Portland. The weather stayed ideal - a few puffy clouds, temperature at 74 F, a delicate breeze. Pioneer Courthouse Square was lively as usual and I enjoyed seeing the young people hanging out on the steps that lead to the sunken plaza. Meandering around Portland in this way I was reminded that the place is still a refuge for a rather sophisticated punk contingent. There were several mohawks and black fingernails among us, but everyone looked healthy and well fed and content with their (gasp!) Nordstrom and (alas!) Gap shopping bags.

Later I hopped on the new Portland Streetcar that links downtown to Northwest 23rd Street by way of the Pearl District. The Pearl is a nice place, but now it's filling up with tons of new loft style apartments, blocks and blocks of them. A few years ago it was a more attractive place, I think, because there was still some vacant brewery warehouses and older structures that made it appear romantically rough on the edges. Warehouses are now condos, but the place still looks like a decent spot to start a roost - especially since it's just a few steps from Powell's famous book warehouse.

Back on 23rd, I stopped in some boutique called the Powder Room and picked up some interesting red beaded shoes. I could have bought these same shoes in Thailand for $5, I am guessing, but they are still a find for what I paid for them. Plus, if I ever go as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, the shoes are taken care of (although these are more like slippers, but who's that fussy over the details?).

Hecho en mexico, it keeps on running

A few months before I turned 16, way back in 1993, I became obsessed with the automobile. More specifically, I was obsessed with how I would come to possess my own set of wheels. With no savings or other proof of financial wherewithal, I approached my parents with a request for what I considered the most important stepping stone of my young adult life. The proposal I made was quite simple: You buy me a car and I will cease to irritate you with incessant calls to pick me and my rag tag friends up from the mall or after school activities.

Surprisingly, they were astoundingly receptive to the offer. However, I did not let up or relax at that juncture. Just any old car would not do.

I lived in a school district where most kids over 16 had cars. And they had nice cars - some even had their mom's old BMW or something. With no spare luxury vehicles lingering in our garage, my car would be coming from the outside - thus began my tutelage of the used car market.

In sum, the two cars that made the final round were a light blue 1986 Honda Civic sedan 5-speed and a blue-grey 1989 VW Fox, 4-door, 5-speed manual WITH A CD PLAYER. Note: In 1993, cars with CD players were rare catches indeed for any type of auto consumer. For a high school junior, even more so. So my decision was made - I was set on the Fox. It didn't hurt that there were only 43K miles on it. With an obvious tinge of reluctance, my mother forked over the $4000 for the Fox. And thus began my automobiled life.

June 1993-August 1997: Good years with the Fox. Good years indeed. No collisions. Just a lot of good times. Once the radiator acted up, but nothing else of concern.

September 1997-May 2005: I willed the car to my older sister when I moved to D.C., who held custody of it for approximately 5 years. After that, the car was given to my stepbrother Brian, who "puts that car to the test, day in day out" according to my mother. Basically, he's been using it to haul rockclimbing gear and supplies for his housepainting business.

June 2005: I was talking to my mother this week and she told me there is a good possibility the Fox could again come back to its "rightful" owner - namely, myself. But the car needs a clutch before it is drivable. And who knows about how it might pass the CA emissions test. But who cares, that's more steps down the line than should concern me right now.

I am totally stoked about the possibility of getting the Fox back. I can almost hear its sputtering engine now...

I was trounced by a pillow

Forget my rantings. Some strange shift in my comfort preferences allowed me to sleep 8 hours last night on that God forsaken bed. Maybe it was the wine.

Battle of the pillow top

For the last couple nights I have been sleeping in a bed not my own. Actually, that's wrong. Since May 22 I have not slept in my own bed because I was overseas - but only up until recently has my tolerance for foreign beds grown very thin.

Currently, I am staying at my mom's house - in the guest room. The bed I am sleeping on is something my stepdad called "a firm bed with a pillow top. You'll love it, absolutely love it!"

I am an advocate of firm beds so I was completely game with regard to trying out the new set up (despite my looming reservation about the pillow top thing). Unfortunately, the bed doesn't quite live up to my standard. I felt like I was sinking into goop from the moment I reclined on the thing. What's more, when you move or readjust your position, you sink back into your former position despite all you do to plant yourself down. The whole night I felt like I was in slowmotion quicksand. Quite possibly the most sleepless night I've had in a while. To add insult to injury, the bed is encased in some of the warmest bed coverings known to man - so not only was I sleepless, but I was sweaty, too.

I am casing out the floors in the house, looking for a good roost to call my own for the rest of the week.

"So it appears you made it home in one piece..."

Yes, this is what my professor said to me this afternoon when I ran into him at school.

I was there to drop off the box of documents I hauled across the globe. I thought it was a very cavalier and rather uncouthe thing to say, considering the circumstances of the last evening all of us were in Bangkok. I had to force myself to resist busting out laughing, actually. All us students were angels - I have absolutely no idea what he could have been talking about. Apparently some pathetic attempt to shift reality to his favor.

The nerve!

Red Label times

Let me start out with mentioning that I am back in the States. I just arrived home some 2 hours ago with my luggage and an entire box of xeroxed statistical books and publications we found over the course of our fieldwork in Thailand. Luckilly, I was just in charge of getting the box home. It is someone else's job to go through it all, catalogue the items, and figure out what is useful as we continue writing the report over the summer.

I've been up more or less for the past 24 hours, so if I make some typing errors, please understand.

Last night was a hell of an evening. We started out on one of those packaged riverboat dinner cruises up the Chao Phraya river. The buffet-style dinner was lame, but the cruise redeems itself because you get nice views of the Dawn Temple and the suspension bridge. The food was terrible - I guess I have been in Thailand long enough to know what is good and bad Thai food. This stuff was a mess of sorts. The Chinese tourists on the boat plowed through it before we'd even put our drink orders in. My Thai student friend said that Chinese tour groups have that reputation. The food itself was just sort of bland, with some strange fusion cuisine going on - Thai spaghetti sauce and noodles - apparently some type of concession to the Italian and American contingent on the boat.

At dinner we consumed several bottle of overpriced, weak red wine. But since all was being paid for by our professor, we made little attempt to restrict our beverage intake. After the cruise ended (which included some dancing on the deck of the boat) we went to a place in Suhkhimvit called Rewind. Rewind is a bar that has djs and live music on the weekends. The owner of Rewind is a friend of our Thai host, Pitch Ponsagawat. When I got there, it appeared a waitress was already taking our group's first drink order. At this point the evening took a decisive new turn of direction for not only us, but for our esteemed professor.

Soon after the first bottle of Red Label showed signs of near-emptiness, our professor was out on the dance floor. In fact, out of 20 students attending the event, he was the first person out there rocking out like he was born to boogie. It was amazing. And it all continued with ramped up intensity for the next 3 hours.

The evening ended with smaller groups taking cab rides home, a quick shower, throwing my belongings into my suitcase, turning in my dorm key, running back upstairs to leave our maid a tip, and then being raced to the airport at 3:20 am.

17 hours and counting

We only have seventeen hours left in Bangkok. We met in class today from 1030-1200 to discuss how our studio work will continue over the summer. But now it's noon and we have the rest of the day off. What is there to do? We will eat and perhaps shop a bit. Actually, the day isn't completely open. We have to meet Yui and Gate at the Friday market on the Chula campus in 15 minutes. Then we have to go on some boat ride at 1930.

Then I am supposed to go pick up some bits and pieces.

Today's Shopping List
1. ear plugs for the plane
2. snacks for the plane
3. Golden Mountain Chili sauce
4. gift for my old boss

For the love of paper towels and hand soap

Last night we were taken out to dinner by a Thai Berkeley alum at the Royal Orchid Sheraton, a large luxury hotel located on the river in Bangkok.

Seeing that our entire studio is based on the idea that international hotel chains are the devil, we sort of felt like sell-outs to some extent. But after the extravagant buffet meal, the drinks, the show with "traditional Thai dance and music", and more drinks at the plush lounge afterwards, a consensus was reached that international hotel chains provide good, needed services in main urban centers. Furthermore, it is only when these hotels start showing up in more remote, rural areas do they reveal their unsavory affects on the landscape and resident culture.

But it still comes down to the simple pleasures in life: we were most impressed by the fact that the Sheraton restrooms all had sit-down style toilets, toilet paper, handsoap, AND paper towels. Most of the restroom facilities in Thailand have none of these amenities.

The evening's highlights did not end at the Sheraton, however. Our professor pushed us to take him to a bar where a Thai cover band did a pretty good job singing a few Whitney Houston, Barry White and Gloria Estefan songs. When he started to dance with us it got a little weird, but that's what happens when 5 people buy a bottle of Jack Daniels and a bucket of ice from the bar.

Sleeping at the foot of Mt. Kilimanjaro

I read an email from my roommate today that really made me realize what different types of traveling experiences we're having this summer. We're gonna have some fun stories to share when she gets back in early July.

C. is in Kenya right now helping to bridge the healthcare digital divide. I would explain the research more in detail, but my understanding of it would probably do it more harm than justice. Anyway, in the email she wrote me today she talked about her weekend plans to camp at the foot of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Quite differently, I sleep at the foot of countless highrises, ubiquitous in Bangkok. While C. humors the Kenyan children who laugh at her light skin, I am fending off cohorts of infatiguable tuk tuk drivers and dodging black puffs of exhaust that come out of the older buses of Bangkok.

The one thing our trips may have had in common: elephants. I saw a roaming elephant hanging out on the side of the road as we passed by Burma. I bet the C. has seen some elephants.

Cheese is good

Last night we ended up at an apartment where a party was being held. The attendees were mainly UNESCO workers stationed in Bangkok. My classmate Pedro knew a friend of the person holding the party.

The theme of the party was among many things a wine and cheese party. In my corner of the world these kinds of parties aren't terribly exciting because cheese and wine is a fact of life in the Bay Area. However, after being in Thailand for three weeks, my compatriots and I have been in dairy withdrawl mode. The idea of cheese is an enticing one indeed, especially the idea of many types of European cheese delicacies. It was worth the taxi ride across town.

We got there and all our dreams were fulfilled. Chilled platters holding wedges of glorious Danish, French, American and Swiss cheese, along with grapes, salami, and olives, all in magnificent abundance (although they started to melt on the platter within several minutes). The wine was the only thing left wanting - we had to settle for Sutter Home cabernet - but it was still a nice treat. When I get home I am going to eat some cambazola with some proper shiraz or pinot.

We have a work session planned for 17:00 tonight to map out our scenario analysis. At that time our Thai colleagues are suppposed to show up at our dorm. Us Americans are putting down bets about how many of them will actually show up. I am guessing half will show.

Until later.

Krabi report team hits small patch of quick sand

The 20 plus member team of Chula and UCB students and faculty have hit a slight rough spot in our report production process. Basically, language barriers and differences in working styles have created some confusion and frustration.

Us Americans are probably most to blame. We have something of an adverserial working style - we are comfortable in attacking and challenging each other's ideas in an open forum in order to derive the best solution. I myself admit it is an intimidating environment.

Apparently, the Thai virtue of social harmony and cohesion is a little at odds with our operating MO. They are uncomfortable with the fact that we argue with each other so much. Plus, we were told we need to be more quiet and speak in turn. This is harder said than done, especially in doing such a large project with so many responsibilities and differences in individual working styles.

Pit just brought in 4 boxes of sticky rice and mangos. I need to go get a bite before it vaporizes. We're all stressed out and eating seems like the only socially acceptable way to alleviate ourselves at this point.

I'll be home in 7 days, can't believe it. I don't have a job to come home to which adds to my underlying stress. More sticky rice...

Group picture in Ranong, near Burma.

Survey of the urban underbelly

I realize I use the term urban underbelly a little too often, but in the case of Bangkok, the term fits like a glove. A black satin and lace glove to be more exact.

On Tuesday evening a few colleagues and I met up with an acquaintence I know in Bangkok who works for an NGO that advocates for victims of all kinds of human trafficking. As urban planners, we're always interesting in learning about the use of urban space for economic activities, so we figured we'd ask for a tour of some places with adult entertainment venues. She took us to Patpong and Nana, areas of the city known its go-go bars, exhibition shows and related venues where you can see young women of all ages and varieties strutting their stuff for a vulgar, garrish, and aged clientele.

First place we went to was in Patpong, an area with a lot of tourist shops and adult entertainment shops. We learned from our tuk tuk driver and street jockeys that the Prime Minister, Thaksim, (sp?) has cleaned up Patpong to a great extent. But underground shows still thrive. The show we went to was sort of the ping-pong ball, razor blades and cigarettes variety, but it actually started out with a couple on stage having some rather sweat-inducing, acrobatic, athletic sex.

While what was going on on-stage was a sight to see, the crowd was an equally interesting subject to watch. There was a trio of Indian men tourists (wearing their fanny-packs, white socks, golf shirts and khaki shorts), some Chinese couples (women hiding their faces with their hands), and a contingent of Aussie men and their frumpy girlfriends. There were also some nondescript Asian men there, but apparently they weren't Thais. We learned from a few of the performers who were on break sitting next to us that Thais don't come there very often at all.

Later we went to Nana to visit some go-go bars. When we sat down, a nice, petite lady (could have been a man though, in that light) sat next to me and claimed she saw me smiling at her when I came in. I think she was looking for a client and was obviously sort of disappointed I wasn't there to play that game. She told me she was going to get up to "go make another friend."

Bangkok is a bustling, weird, exciting, but kind of sad place all at the same time

Ta-da! We visited this rail station in Trang and made an event out of it.

The traditional wooden longboat

Life on the road...has ended.

Over the last fourteen days I have checked into six different hotels, have sat in a 11 passenger Toyota minivan anywhere from 3-9 hours a day, and have eaten entirely too much very spicy food. But we're back in the big city of Bangkok now. Bright and early Monday morning we will begin working on our report. We have a lot to do.

I have been assigned to the "vision statement" team. Four other team members and I have been charged with the task of creating a statement of 75 words or less that encapsulates the essence of future of tourism development for Krabi Province. It's harder than it sounds. We actually disagreed for 2 entire days and only today came up with our first final draft. And to be quite honest, an outside team member actually drafted about 90% of it.

The miracle of consultancy I guess.

Now, back in Bangkok, I am still having trouble finding a computer to post photos of our travels, too. This internet place I am at right now doesn't have a CD drive. WTF?

More posts to come...