Thursday, 14 July 2005
Cambodia Photos
I'm doing my best to go through a huge backlog of pictures. This is the remainder of the photos from our journey out of Cambodia from Phnom Penh to the Laos border. Hope you enjoy them as much as this lady enjoys her crunchy snacks.
Posted by flow Frazao on July 14, 2005 at 08:55 PM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Monday, 13 June 2005
Phnom Penh Blues
Went to the Killing Fields and the S-21 torture facility musuem yesterday. Pretty horrible places, compounded by the fact that the actual museums themselves were just as bad this time around as they were last time. Given their unique claim of being the sole practicers of so-called ''auto-genocide'' (Khmer vs. Khmer as opposed to German vs. Jew, Tutsi vs. Huutu, etc...), you'd think Cambodians would be able to come up with an interesting and incisive look at the Khmer Rouge, but to be perfectly honest it doesn't seem like a whole lot of thought or introspection went in to either of the aforementioned exhibits.
Both museums point to things like blood on the floor and mass graves and say ''This is unspeakably evil,'' but they just stop there. At the Killing Fields there's a short essay posted on the wall which in part says "The Khmer Rouge looked like regular people but they had the hearts of the most evil demons." Of course, they weren't evil demons. They were uneducated peasants who got caught up in a movement that went too far. It could happen, and has happened again and again all over the world. Too blame it on their being ''evil'' is nothing more than a cop-out.
Phnom Penh itself is the same as it was three years ago. Filthy and poor, the city chokes you as soon as you step out of your room. Not only is the air thick with pollution, the beggars and desperate motorbike drivers practically assault you the moment you leave the guesthouse.
It's a depressing place to be, and we're leaving tomorrow morning. We're heading to a province in the Northeast called Mondulkiri, and we hope to get a better and more accurate impression of the "real Cambodia" when we get there. Fiona is not optimistic, but we'll see how it is.
Posted by flow Frazao on June 13, 2005 at 04:36 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Saturday, 11 June 2005
Phnom Penh
We left Siem Riep yesterday at 7AM after a bit of confusion with the buses. For a minute there Fiona and I were afraid that we were going to be making the 7 hour drive in a VW minibus, but it turned out that the minibus was just a transport to the real bus. Luckily, it was a decent tour bus sized vehicle replete with air-conditioning. Not bad for $3 a ticket.
The roads were shocking, but nowhere near as bad as the road from the Cambodia/Thai border to Siem Riep. There were even streches of pavement on this highway. After a few weeks of driving on dirt roads, riding on asphalt seems like a dream. It's like floating along in a hovercraft.
However, the most shocking thing was the stops along the way. Every two hours or so the bus would pull off at a rest stop-type place and everyone would pile out of the bus for a stretch. There were four Westerners on the bus (out of about 50 people), so we would just stand there stupidly as everyone did what they did. Some people would head to the bathrooms, some would go to the shady area and smoke, but most of the Cambodians would make a beeline for the fried bug stalls.
Simply put, these people love to eat bugs. It doesn't even matter what kind of bugs. They love them all. Crickets, beetles, cockroaches, and even big hairy spiders. They eat them by the bagful.
I can't say I bought a pound of them, but Fiona and I both tried them. How can you not? Surprisingly, they weren't that bad at all. Crunchy - almost like potato chips. And we were pleased to find that they're not full of weird juices. They just munch right down like Doritos.
The trick is that you have to pull the legs off before you pop them in your mouth. Otherwise the little legs get stuck in your teeth, and there's nothing worse than having to floss out a grasshopper leg from in between your molars.
Posted by flow Frazao on June 11, 2005 at 02:12 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Thursday, 09 June 2005
Angkor Wat Photos
A few photos from the past three days at Angkor Wat and around Siem Riep (that's Cambodia). Enjoy!
Posted by flow Frazao on June 9, 2005 at 07:49 AM in Photos, Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Sunday, 05 June 2005
Siem Riep
Getting to Siem Riep (home of Angkor Wat) from Bangkok is no small feat. Obviously, if you're a pussy you can fly in a girly she-plane, but Fiona and I have true grit. We travel overland.
We caught a 6AM bus from Bangkok to the border, where we arrived at about 1PM. After going through the requisite Thai exit stamping process, we stepped up to the Cambodian immigration window. A 30 day visa for Cambodia costs $20, but the Poipet border is apparently the only place in the country that does not accept US Dollars. They would only take 1000 baht (Thai currency). This works out decidedly well for the Cambodian border guards because 1000 baht = $25 USD. So I guess every person that crosses the border contributes directly to the Support Cambodian Border Guards Fund.
After walking through the big archway to Kampuchea, we met up with a German guy and decided to share a taxi from Poipet to Siem Riep. The four of us (me, Fiona, Olaf, and the driver) loaded our crap into the trunk (with the help of about 10 other tip-hungry Cambodians) and headed out of town.
Last time I came to Cambodia I remembered this drive being one of the worst in a succession of long and arduous roads. It has not been improved. It took about three and a half hours to go less than 150km. The potholes defy description. There are actually stretches of road where you wind up driving in the ditches along the sides of the street because they're in better condition than the actual road. It's almost as bad as M St. in Washington DC.
We made it to Siem Riep at around 5PM, and I was/am amazed at the amount of change this town has undergone over three years. Last time I was here there were loads of guesthouses charging between $1 and $40 per night. I remember two or three big hotels, but even they weren't that big. Now there are more than 10 MASSIVE hotels here, some of which charge $2000 per night for the most expensive room.
To me, that is an absolutely retarded amount of money to spend on a hotel room. I'm fairly sure it sounds pretty outrageous to you as well. Now try to imagine how it sounds to a Cambodian who makes $15 dollars per month. "Retarded" does not begin to describe it. A girl who works at our guesthouse told us last night that $2000 is the price of tuition for four years of university at the best school in Cambodia.
We've spent the last two days reading up on Angkor Wat and the history of Cambodia. Last time I came I went into the temple not knowing anything about it, and I didn't really know what I was looking at. I'm lucky enough to get a second chance at seeing the largest religious complex in the world, and I don't want to blow it. I may not get a third time around.
Tomorrow morning we're going to go to Ta Prohm at sunrise. If you're a connoisseur of bad movies and beautiful women, you'd know this temple as the setting of the first Tomb Raider movie. It's the only temple at the Angkor Wat complex that's been left alone without any reconstruction at all. The jungle is slowly reclaiming it, and it's some of the most magnificent destruction I've ever seen. I'm looking forward to seeing it at sunrise.
Finally, I've posted some pictures of our first few days in Cambodia. This is a double rainbow I was lucky enough to see from the rooftop bar of our guesthouse:
Posted by flow Frazao on June 5, 2005 at 10:27 AM in Photos, Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Thursday, 02 June 2005
Cambodia Bound
Tomorrow morning at 5AM we're leaving for Cambodia. It's going to be a long day, but hopefully we'll get there before dark. The last thing you want is to be driving in Cambodia at night.
This will be my second trip and Fiona's first. Last time I went I had a 30 day visa, but I only managed to make it 14 days. It was a difficult place to be. There's an awful lot of poverty, and it was the first time I'd seen anything like it. Hopefully this time around I'm better prepared and can see a bit more of the country.
We're going to start off in Siem Riep (home of Angkor Wat) and we'll spend a few days relaxing there. We're both coming off some pretty nasty colds, so a few days of taking it easy will be really nice - especially after the last Celta-riffic month.
After Siem Riep we're not sure where we're going to head. At some point we'll make it down to Phnom Penh so that Fiona can see the Killing Fields and the S-21 museum. I've heard that the Ratakiri province in the Northeast is pretty remarkable, but it may not be possible to get there because of the monsoons.
Speaking of which, you may not know this about monsoons (I didn't, at least). I used to think that monsoons were constant, driving rain that didn't let up for months. Not so. Here in Bangkok they're really severe thunder and lightning storms that last for an hour at the most. To be honest, they're not that much different from the summer storms I remember in DC and CT. Of course, they're a lot more exotic with a bunch of food vendors running down the street through the pouring rain screaming in Thai the whole way.
Posted by flow Frazao on June 2, 2005 at 05:37 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Holy Shit!
Look at that hair!
We finished the class a few days ago and promptly shaved Fiona's head. It looks good in a post-apocolyptic, road warrior sort of way. She keeps looking in the mirror and saying "Jesus Christ. Look at me. It's going to take years to grow back." She's right, of course, but I can tell you without reservation that there are few things more weirdly exhilarating than shaving a woman's head.
Anyhow, I put up these and a few other shots in the Thailand gallery. Check em out.
Posted by flow Frazao on June 2, 2005 at 04:54 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Saturday, 30 April 2005
Thai Patriotism
One thing that's surprising about Thailand is the level of patriotism exhibited here. Being an American, you'd think I'd be used to it, but it's much different around these parts. It's not the flag-waving, fist-pumping "love it or leave it" variety like we have back home. It's more of a quiet respect for King and country.
For example, every day at 8 AM and 5 PM the national anthem is broadcast in every public place in Thailand. No matter what's going on or how much of a hurry everybody's in, every single person stops whatever they're doing and stands there until it's over. Yesterday Fiona and I were bustling our way through a Skytrain terminal during morning rush hour, when all of a sudden music started coming over the crackling speakers. For about a minute, we watched as people came to a halt in mid-stride. No one spoke, and the only thing that moved was paper blowing in the wind. It was surreal, to say the least.
Then, last night we went to see The Interpreter in Siam Square. At the beginning of the movie, the National Anthem came on along with a film clip of breathtaking scenery shot all over Thailand. Again, every single person stood up, listened and watched while images of the King and his country flashed across the screen.
Posted by flow Frazao on April 30, 2005 at 05:01 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Koh Lanta Photos
As thanks to all who donated, I've pushed up this photo album so that you can see Tong and everybody else. I hope you enjoy putting faces to all the names of the people you've helped.
Posted by flow Frazao on April 30, 2005 at 04:34 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Wednesday, 27 April 2005
Tsunami Donation Totals
Okay, first and foremost the window for making donations to tsunami victims through Fiona and I is now closed. We’re leaving the island tomorrow, so no more donations will be accepted. We wound up staying an extra day, but we absolutely have to be in Bangkok on May 1st to start our CELTA class. I wish we could stay longer, but we simply cannot.
When I sent out the email about Tong, Koh Lanta, and the tsunami, I did it hoping that we'd be able to raise enough to buy Tong some lights and cushions for his bar. My highest expectation was that we'd end up with somewhere around $500, and we'd leave the island knowing that we'd helped out in some small way.
However, less than 24 hours after I'd clicked "Send" it was obvious that we were in the middle of something much bigger than either Fiona or I had anticipated. We sat in the internet café with our mouths open as we waded through email after email pledging donations. The lady who worked there laughed at how we whooped and hollered after we'd tallied up the day's total of $815.
Obviously, we couldn't wait to tell Tong. We hadn't even mentioned the initial letter to him because we didn't want to get his hopes up. We printed out the emails (minus the spicy bits - some of you guys are really sick), and ran down the road to Family Bungalows.
When we got there we went right up to Tong and I laid it on him all serious-like. "Tong," I said, "Do you have a second? We need to talk to you about something important."
We took him out to a table by the beach. Fiona and I sat on one side and he sat opposite us. He eyed the papers in my hand nervously as he fired up a cigarette.
"I just want to let you know," I started, "Yesterday I sent out an email about you and Family Bungalows." I laid the five page email on the table in front of him and began summarizing it. When I got to the end I said that I'd sent it to friends and family back home telling them that if they wanted to give money to help then I would give 100% of it directly to the people hurt by the tsunami.
I paused for a moment and gave him a few seconds to digest what I'd told him. He smiled a broad smile and thanked me. It's all a bit of a blur, but I think he said something along the lines of "It's very nice of you to do that."
That's when I really let him have it.
I whipped all the emails you sent out of my bag and slapped them down on the table in front of Tong. “Today I went to check my mail,” I said as I pointed to the first letter on the page, “And this is what I found.”
"This is from someone I used to work with. She says 'Good luck, Tong' and gives you fifty dollars." I pointed to the next one. "My friend from university gives you $25." I started going down the line one after the other. "This one is from my Grandmother. This one is from my brother. My friend who has no job gives you $20. Here's $100 from my cousin. Another friend gives you $50 and says he's happy he can help."
As I read them off in rapid-fire succession, I heard him say "Oh my God," in the quietest voice I'd ever heard. I looked up at him and he had his hands on his cheeks with his eyes wide open in a surreal Macaulay Culkin impression that I'll never forget for as long as I live.
When I got to the end of the emails I hit him with the grand finale. I showed him the last letter on the page and said "This one is from somebody who works with somebody I know. Obviously he doesn't know you, but he doesn't even know me, and he wants to give you $200."
I sat back with what must have been an absurdly large smile and waited for Tong to react. His face looked like he’d just had one of those throwup burps.
After a few seconds he jumped up excitedly. "This is amazing!" he half-yelled, "Nobody else can help me like this. No waiting for money from government. We can get cushions now!"
"You can get whatever you want," I said, "It's your money."
"No!" he shouted, "We can go get cushions NOW”
Me and Fiona exchanged looks. Fi shrugged her shoulders and said “OK. Let’s go!”
So we all excitedly piled into Tong’s pickup truck. Fiona and I sat in the back and Tong sat in the front with his driver (not that he needs a driver, but it’s an excuse to give somebody a job). We pulled out of the driveway and made our way down the bumpy, dusty road.
After 20 minutes of being bounced around, we pulled up to the market and we all got out of the truck. Tong took one look at Fiona and I and burst out laughing. We were both covered from head to toe with dust from the road. After we’d all had a good laugh Tong told us that he was sorry he’d brought us all the way to the market.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I get too excited,” he said, “I forget that we have no electricity in bar! Have to call electrician tomorrow. But today we can buy a CD case!”
So we marched into the market and bought one of the ugliest, cheapest CD cases I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It was the only one they had, and it’s baby blue with puffy white clouds and cuddly brontosaurii on the cover along with, coincidentally enough, the words “Thank You” in the upper right hand corner. Product designers in China must have access to a wide assortment of incredibly powerful psychedelic drugs.
But hideous as it may have been, it was worth every baht just to have something tangible for Tong to hold in his hands.
The next morning we went to the bank and I wired about $750 USD into Family Bungalow’s bank account. Not only did we hook Tong up with lights, cushions, electricity, and a stereo for his bar, we also gave him enough money to buy a good computer and a table to put it on. He’ll use it to sell internet time to guests, and he’ll also be able to provide services like CD burning and digital picture transfers.
Needless to say, Tong was ecstatic. In one day we managed to raise enough money to give him and everyone who works at Family Bungalow a fighting chance at staying open. That night the beer flowed like wine, and we sat around grinning at each other like a bunch of idiots.
The following day we went back to check our mail and we found that we’d raised another mind-boggling amount. We were up to almost $1500, and Tong had already said that he didn’t need any more donations. Fiona and I hadn’t expected anything like the response we were getting and we started to freak out.
We asked Tong what to do, but he didn’t have any ideas. He said he’s originally from the mainland and it wasn’t directly affected by the tsunami so he didn’t know anybody who needed help. We toyed with the idea of going to a school and asking the principal to point us in the direction of a needy family, but then we found out that the schools are closed for two months for the Thai New Year, and besides the government had already sent financial assistance to the schools, so they didn’t really need any help.
At around noon on the day before we were supposed to leave Fiona and I sat by the beach trying to come up with an idea as donations continued to come in. Time was running out, and we knew there had to be people on the island who needed help, but we just didn’t know how to find them. We had never dreamed that our one email would snowball into something so big in four short days.
As we sat on the beach teetering on the verge of panic, a somewhat serious-looking white guy carrying a clipboard came walking up to us.
“Is the owner of this bungalow operation here?” he asked.
We told him that the owner wasn’t here, but that the manager would be back shortly. He sat down with us to wait and we got to chatting. He told us his name was Steve and that he was working for a Non-Governmental Organization studying the allocation of financial aid to small bungalow owners in the aftermath of the tsunami.
The multiverse is a strange place, my friends. Just when Fiona and I were about to spiral into philanthropically-induced insanity, who should come strolling along the beach but the one guy on the island who knows more about the situation than possibly anyone else in Thailand.
Coincidence? You decide.
After Steve had finished interviewing Tong he told us that he couldn’t tell us the best way to put your money to good use, but that he would get us in touch with someone who could. We walked five minutes down the beach with him and he introduced us to Jaew, the owner of Where Else? bungalows.
She, in turn, told us that the best person to talk to was not her but her brother Wit. I wondered who had flipped the switch on the Infinite Improbability Drive as she explained to us that Wit was the person on Koh Lanta who had helped the fishermen who’d lost their boats fill out the paperwork to receive compensation from the Thai government. He knew exactly how much (if any) each family had gotten in the months after the tsunami had struck, and therefore who was in most dire need of help.
Jaew called her brother and he came to meet with us immediately. In less than 15 minutes he’d told us the names of three different families who had lost their boats and had their houses destroyed by the waves. None of the three families had gotten any help at all from the government or aid agencies because, as Wit put it, “they didn’t have the right friends.”
According to Steve, the average annual salary of a fisherman on Koh Lanta is around 20,000 baht, so we were dealing with relatively massive sums of money. After a few hours of chatting and trying to determine the fairest and most equitable way to divide the funds, we had worked out how to split up the remaining money.
First was Mr. Saksit, a Thai fisherman married to a sea gypsy. Both his house and his boat had been destroyed by the tsunami. He, his wife and his two year old son were living with another family because they couldn’t afford to fix his boat, and, being a fisherman, therefore couldn’t afford to make any money to fix his house. We decided to give Mr. Saksit 10,000 baht ($250 USD), which Jaew suggested could be used to travel to the mainland to look for work.
Secondly was Mr. Yabeh, who owned two boats before the tsunami came. He has six children, and until the tsunami five of the children were living at home with him, but now they’ve had to go to the mainland to try and find work as day laborers. His oldest son, Somnuk, has had to come live with Mr. Yabeh in his small house because his son’s house and boat were both destroyed. There are now 12 people living in Mr. Yabeh’s house, and it’s about the size of a two car garage.
Somnuk is a 32 year old fisherman with a wife and two children, ages 8 and 2. We went to see what’s left of his home, and I couldn’t believe it. The trunk of a palm tree had come crashing through his front wall and completely demolished everything inside. He had lost everything he owned.
We gave Mr. Yabeh and his son Somnuk 46,000 baht ($1250 USD). They said it will probably be enough to get one of their boats fixed, and from that point they can begin earning money for themselves.
Altogether we raised $2,655 (USD) or roughly 98,235 Baht. We directly helped Tong, the seven employees of Family Bungalows, Mr. Saksit and his wife and son, Mr. Yabeh and his wife and five children, and Mr. Somnuk and his wife and two kids. This doesn’t take into account all the ripples this cash infusion will have on the small economy of Koh Lanta either. For example, Tong bought his stereo from another bungalow operator on this island, so that 16,000 baht is now slowly making it’s way around the island. There is no way to measure the countless ripples that will be felt from your generosity and kindness.
All of us have done a really good thing here, and I’d like to thank you for taking this leap of faith with Fiona and I. Getting involved with this spontaneous exercise demanded a lot of trust on your part, and we’re honored that you think so highly of us. As thanks I promise to post pictures and more precise donation totals this website as soon as I get to Bangkok.
Posted by flow Frazao on April 27, 2005 at 10:36 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Monday, 25 April 2005
Tsunami Donation Update
The response has been incredible. I can't write much right now because internet access is expensive and I've got tons of emails to sort through, but suffice it to say you guys are amazing.
And obviously, I'll let you all know what the final tally is when I finish counting and Tong finishes shitting his pants.
Posted by flow Frazao on April 25, 2005 at 09:17 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Friday, 22 April 2005
Koh Lanta vs. The Tsunami
The devastation is hard to describe. We saw the footage on the news just like everybody else, but seeing it in 360 degree reality is completely overwhelming because it's inescapable. You can't change the channel, and everywhere you look is a reminder that this thing actually happened to people and it won't just go away with the push of a button.
As you walk along the beach you see things strewn here and there. We passed old, cracked sunglasses, worn-out flip-flops, sun bleached hats, broken CDs, and even a rusty soup ladle. With each one you can't help but think to yourself, "I wonder if the owner of this stuff made it to safety in time."
We also walked by a group of Thai kids playing pool on a pool table that seemed to have been dumped in the middle of a clearing. Only when we walked up to them did we realize that the building around the table had been completely demolished by the waves.
Over the course of a few short minutes, Koh Lanta had gone from being a tropical paradise in my mind to an almost incomprehensible disaster area in reality. I suddenly had the same feeling in the pit of my stomach that I did during my entire stay in Cambodia and during each visit I made to Ground Zero in New York City. It's a combination of loss and sadness that's similar to despair, but with a thin residue of hope that maybe someday things can get back to the way they were before the life-altering tragedy took place.
Over the next two days I walked along the beach and remained in a state of awe. Not only at the amount of damage, but also at the resilience of the people who were doing their best to rebuild their shattered lives. To wake up every day and face the wreckage must take an awful lot of courage.
Eventually, I got to talking with Tong, the happy-go-lucky motorbike driver/manager of Family Bungalows who had picked us up the other day. I asked him what it was like before the tsunami came.
"Oh," he said, "Everything very good! Many people stay here. Christmas, New Year, always full! No bungalows empty! Everybody laughing, laughing, playing volleyball, drinking. Everybody happy."
He pointed over to his right at a blown out shell of a building. All that remained was one wall and a concrete foundation. "Used to be internet cafe," he said, " have five computer. Also have mini-mart and Thai massage school."
He looked at me and shook his head. "Now look. Everything gone. Tsunami come, tourists leave go home. No tourists, no money to fix. That's why we rent bungalow for so cheap. We hope maybe people come stay and maybe eat one or two meals here to make money."
Both of us knew how that was panning out. I'd seen people take off every night to go eat and drink in the bar down the beach that was lucky enough to have salvaged a stereo.
"But nobody eat here," Tong continued, "I don't blame them, I not mad - people like to have music to listen to. But I think maybe take long time to get money to buy stereo and make people want to stay here again."
By this point, he was on a roll. I got the impression that not too many tourists took a genuine interest in the tsunami's effect beyond the normal witness-the-awesome-power-of-mother-nature type stuff.
"And the government no give help. I see on BBC News that countries give Thailand billions of baht. Australia, America, England all giving money, but nobody on Koh Lanta getting money because here tsunami not bad as Koh Phi-Phi. Not even one baht. The government is giving all the money to Phuket, Koh Phi-Phi. But all Koh Lanta need is a little bit! I just need maybe 10,000 baht for stereo and then I make enough to fix everything again."
I was stunned. Ten thousand baht is 250 US dollars. I couldn't imagine that the government was holding out on people who needed such a small amount of money when it would make such an enormous difference.
Tong also went on to explain that in a classic maneuver, the insurance companies are refusing to cover tsunami damage because it's an Act of God. It would have been better for Family Bungalows if it had just burnt down to the ground.
Sometimes it's hard to know the right thing to do. We've all been in situations where we have to think long and hard about what's right and wrong, but this was not one of those situations. It was immediately obvious to both Fiona and I that all signs were pointing in one direction. Despite his easygoing Thai exterior, Tong and his family desperately needed help, and we were in a position to help him.
We went back to our bungalow to check our finances just to be sure, and we decided to sleep on it before saying anything to Tong. Of course, when we woke up the next morning our minds had not changed. After breakfast I pulled Tong aside and told him that Fiona and I had talked about it and we had decided to give him 10,000 baht.
When I told him, I made it clear that we couldn't afford to give 10,000 baht plus the room plus food plus whatever else. I said that the 10,000 baht would have to cover everything, but we wanted him to have a stereo and we were happy to help him get one.
His reaction caught me completely off guard. The momentary look of excitement that flashed across his face was immediately replaced with one of concern.
"I am afraid you not be able to afford it," he said, "This too much money. I like you want to help, but this too much money."
I had no idea what to say to that. This guy had literally lost everything, and he was afraid to take our money out of concern for our financial well-being. And, let's be honest, $250 is really not all that much to Westerners.
"Tong," I said, "We are very careful about our money. We know how much we have. I promise you we can afford to give you money. We want you to have a stereo."
"OK," he replied slowly and calmly, "If you think you can do it then it would be very good. You help me very much."
And that was that. The next day he took me into town and I withdrew 10,000 baht from an ATM and handed it over to him. He accepted it with a quick bow, a big smile, and a very polite and measured "Thank you very much."
In two days we'll go buy the stereo and hook it up. Then we'll have a party and get drunk listening to music on the beach under the light of a full moon. And maybe a few people will come and join us and buy drinks and food from Tong. And hopefully that will be one more step away from disaster and towards renewal for Tong, his family, and the families of the seven people who work at Family Bungalows.
Believe it or not, the purpose of this email is not to tell you what a great and generous man I am. You already knew that. What I'd like to do is extend this opportunity to help to all of you. If you watched the coverage of the tsunami and thought to yourself "My God, that's horrible. I wish I could help but I don't know what to do." Or "I would love to give money to some charity, but where will it actually go?" Then here's your chance. In a few days, Tong will have his stereo, but the bar still needs lights and cushions and board games and all the other things that will make it a place people will want to hang out. This may sound like cheap and insignificant stuff to us, but here they are necessary items that will ensure the survival of Family Bungalows.
Those of you who have been to Thailand know that things here are insanely cheap. Even with Bushonomics driving the dollar down on a daily basis, a little US money goes a long way here. Ten or twenty dollars is a good chunk of change in this country, so even a small donation will make a tremendous difference.
Of course, there's no pressure to give anything at all, but I can personally guarantee that not only will every single dollar help enormously, but also that 100 percent of it will go directly to a family that will appreciate it in a way that hopefully none of us will ever truly understand.
So here's how it'll work. If you'd like to help, you can either click the button below and donate online using PayPal (this is the best option for those not dealing in US dollars):
Or you can mail a check to my parents' house in Connecticut (email me for the address). Then, and this is the most important part of the whole thing, you have to email me and tell me how much you're donating. That way I'll be able to tally up the total amount, withdraw it from my bank account, and go to the market with Tong when I leave the island in four days.
Obviously, I can't give you receipts or any of that stuff. I don't know if it's tax-deductible and I don't care. But I promise you that every cent will go directly to Tong and Family Bungalows.
Posted by flow Frazao on April 22, 2005 at 08:21 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Tsunami Donations
Donations for tsunami victims are now closed. Fiona and I have left Koh Lanta and our on our way to Bangkok to take our CELTA class.
In four days we managed to raise $2,655.00. That's a lot of Baht, and we wound up being able to help not only Tong, but also three other families whose boats and homes had been destroyed.
Thanks to everyone for your generous and timely donations. If you'd like to be notified next time we come across a similar opportunity please leave a comment below and I'll add you to my mailing list.
Thank you!
Posted by flow Frazao on April 22, 2005 at 07:44 AM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Friday, 15 April 2005
Off to Koh Lanta
We got our apartment/room/whatever you want to call it sorted out for the month of May while we're doing our CELTA class. It's a bit expensive - around $400 for the month - but it's in a place with a pool and a decent sized room. The difference between that and staying in a shithole was about $100 so we figured we'd just go ahead and splash out.
Now we're in Krabi after an all-night bus ride from Bangkok. We couldn't take any more Song Kran. There's only so much water pistol to the eye you can put up with, I guess. Now we've got a few hours to kill before we catch another bus to a small island called Koh Lanta. Neither of us have been there, but we're hoping to find a quiet place by the beach where we can get some studying done.
I'm not sure what the internet situation will be like there, so posts may be few and far between for the next week or so. If you get bored check out the heated discussion going on in the Schapelle Corby thread.
Posted by flow Frazao on April 15, 2005 at 09:52 PM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Thursday, 14 April 2005
So Much For Not Drinking The Water
I'm sitting here on the rooftop deck of my hotel overlooking the Royal Palace. It's not even ten o'clock yet and it's already 96 degrees. Add that to the 82 percent humidity, and you've got yourself the makings of a debilitatingly hot day.
Of course, as most of you know, we landed in the middle of Song Kran, the Thai water festival. I wasn't really sure what to expect - I'd heard a lot of stories about it, but seeing it firsthand is something to be reckoned with. The entire city of 6 million people seems to have taken a week off to have a gigantic water fight.
At 10 AM I'm looking down over streets crammed with people. Each of them is carrying some sort of water gun. Some people are toting small little water pistols, some have those huge super-soakers, and quite a few are packing enormous water cannons that incorporate a backpack reservoir. There are pickup trucks driving slowly down the glistening streets with about 10 people in the back. Whenever they pass each other, both songtaos (as they're called here) erupt in a back-and-forth water fight as they roll down the road.
One thing that nobody seemed to mention in my readings about Song Kran is that it's actually more than a water fight. It's also a mud fight. People can buy little pails of white mud for 2 Baht (5 cents), and they walk down the street with these buckets smearing mud on everyone they pass. And they're really funny about it. One lady I bought noodles from came up to me as I was standing there eating and said "Sorry!" with a mischievous smile on her face. I didn't know what she was talking about until she started pouring ice cold water down the back of my shirt. Then one of her friends ran up and smeared white mud all over my face and in my mouth.
And the best part of it all is that you're not allowed to get pissed off about anything. That would be breaking the number one rule in Thailand which is "don't ever stop smiling." You just have to take it like a bitch.
Posted by flow Frazao on April 14, 2005 at 11:05 PM in Southeast Asia | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack