Go Farang Yourself.

"I love Bangkok" I told an intoxicated British man outside a street vendors cart. "Why in gods name do you love this place?" he asked me indignantly. I said "oh I just love big cities, the hustle, and the chaos they are so much fun!" He just rolled his eyes and said "oh you are such an American". Ya true and you are an old sleazy British dude is what I should of said.

But it's true I love Bangkok. Ridiculous amounts of people, shopping malls, street food, chickens, lady boys, crazy cab drivers, sex shows and neon signs all come together to make the best city in Asia. Everything is happening in Bangkok. It is always awake and looking to make you a deal. People in Bangkok are on the hustle 24-7 but unlike other places in Asia the Thai laid back, sense of humor can still be found in this major metropolis. It is sprawling and at times intimidating but hop on a ferry boat, or the even more efficient sky train and in minutes you are absorbed into the energy of the city. The best part about Bangkok is the ridiculous amount of cheap food. Delicious fried noodles, curries and rice, any Asian food your little heart desires for a dollar a plate. So ya I am sooo American, I love Bangkok.

After Bangkok we headed north to Chang Mai the bread basket of the country and a bohemian city that is moving at half the speed of wound up Bangkok. In Chang Mai I had my first Birthday abroad. Rooz and I got our first Thai massages for 10 bucks, total. I spent the entire time laughing because I am insanely ticklish, and then whimpering because she was twisting my body into an pretzel. Needless to say I am a masseuse's worst nightmare. I was constantly squirming and giggling and contorting my face into a million weird shapes. And the fact that I speak no Thai did not help either of us out, cave man gestures do not work when a little Thai woman is pounding her knees into your back. Oh Thai massage, it hurts so good.


Next we headed to Pai a little town surrounded by jungle and full of western hippies showing off their dread-locks and new tattoos of the Om symbol. And then we were off to Chang Kong to make the boat trip to Laos.
Over all Thailand is breath-taking, and awe inspiring. My one beef is the way they have changed certain regions of their beautiful country into a playground for white tourists.
In Thailand the word for tourist or foreigner is farang. Farang can be merely descriptive, but it can also be pejorative. In Thailand many places cater specifically to the Farang tourist market, watering down their own amazing and vibrant culture. I did not enjoy taking part in or observing this farang culture of bad western food, and VIP coach buses taking you everywhere. It was a struggle not to be the epitome of a farang because you have to fight nail and tooth in order not to be pigeon holed into this western centric way of travel. It was a challenge to explain to the Thai people that we did not want to be given the farang food menu (aka pizza, sandwiches, and imitation Mexican food) but instead wanted to eat real Thai food. And they thought we were being crazy or just difficult when we wanted to ride on an actual Thai bus or train as opposed to the VIP coaches. Thailand was so wonderful in so many ways but you begin to be self loathing and hate all tourists because of this farang culture and what it is doing to the people and the land.

The best thing to do was to get out of the guesthouse neighborhoods and try to go where the Thai people are, as opposed to where all the fifty year old ex-pats with Thai hookers were hanging out. I am not denying that I am a total tourist, farang, whatever you want to call me, but for god sakes I came to Asia, and Thailand to at see a little bit of the real culture and to eat some frickin rice, not a wood oven pizza. Thailand is beautiful and amazing but the farang culture has gotta go, and us whiteys are the only ones who can stop it. So next time you go to Thailand get your butt on an actual Thai train, and eat some fricking Thai curries, you stupid farangs.


Peaceful Pai

Bangkok. Sushi with Rooz's family friend who showed us real Thai hospitality.

The Infamous Kho San Road! Bangkok!

On the Ferry in Bangkok

Skytrain!!

My 23rd B-day in Chang Mai!!!

my gorgeous lil piggy cake. rooz found it for me.

Chang Mai!

The Kings picture is everywhere!

Sweet Siam

So after China and India all you want to do is be worthless on a beach and rest up, which is why we headed straight for the south of Thailand. We spent three weeks laying on the beach, drinking cocktails out of a bucket, and making fun of all the Europeans and their bad dance moves. What can I say, life is rough. So three weeks into Thailand we had seen the islands of Phuket, Koh Phi Phi, Ko Samui, and the party island of Koh Phanagn. Needless to say the islands are pure debauchery (and this is coming from two UCSB graduates). After way too much tanning (aka burning) we decided we needed to get it together, and leave the islands. We needed to get back to the real Thailand and the legitimate backpacking scene. The islands were completely breathtaking but the downside is all the tourism, it causes you to be very self loathing after a while. The development can be quite depressing. Sadly in places like Phuket and Ko Samui you look out on to this beautiful beach, and then out of the corner of your eye see a 7-eleven and a McDonalds down the road. It is a shame that us foreigners demand convenience and comfort and wind up destroying the places we come to admire. So my island vacation was a great break from the usual chaos of Asia, but I am not some German man on holiday. Next stop Bangkok.

Kolkata you ain't as bad as you look.

At first glance Kolkata looks like hell on Earth, the wildest display of humanity you could ever imagine. In Kolkata privacy is not an option. People are eating sleeping, defecating, and essentially living out in the open, on the side of the streets. Life is not hidden in doors but happens all around you whether you like it or not. Kolkata is as in your face as it gets. The poverty, the crime, the drug use, the good, the bad, and the ugly spills out onto the streets. Everywhere you look there are beggars, insane taxi drivers, make-shift shanty towns and anything else you can imagine. To one side you see a vendor making lassis next to him a cobbler fixing shoes and then across the way a barber cutting hair on the sidewalk and a "dentist" cleaning teeth on stool outside a restaurant. The city is bursting with energy and chaos. Crossing the street in this hectic city without a scratch is a major feat. The traffic, the noise, the regular power outages and the horrendous smell of human feces all add to the persona of this old British Colonial Capital. This is the city of Mother Teresa, The Victoria Memorial and more professional beggars than you ever thought possible. But beyond all that squalor is a vibrant city full of colonial charm and metropolitan conveniences.Kolkata is a diamond in the rough mostly because of the Bengali people. They are by far the most genuine and hospitable people you will encounter in India. Our first night arriving in Kolkata an Indian man from Kolkata helped us get from the train station and into a taxi going to our guesthouse, it was completely unexpected and appreciated. Kolkata is a city that keeps on surprising you with its unexpected character and warmth.The longer you stay in one place in India the more you begin to become to understand all the madness and you stop just being part of the scenery. Kolkata made me a true fan of India as a country and made me realized the Indian people are what keep travelers back again and again despite everything else.

Burning Bodies

If you are a Hindu lucky enough to die in Varanasi, and be cremated by the holy Ganges, it is believed that you will go straight to Nirvana. Ideally, your soul will be released from the reincarnation cycle and be sent to Nirvana where life is eternal bliss. This is the ultimate goal of Hinduism, reaching Nirvana. Varanasi, the sight of the holiest stretch of the Ganges, is an orchestra of sights and sounds, mostly having to do with Hinduism and death. Many of the buildings near the ghats (steps leading to the river) in this ancient city are used as hospices to house those who are waiting to die and be cremated in a holy ceremony. Although this city is haunted by death and the dying it is not morbid or depressing, just plain bizarre. Walking through the corroding alley ways you will most certainly bump into your fair share of sacred cows, motor bikes, vendors, and families carrying the covered body of a deceased loved one down to the "burning ghat." The burning ghats are funeral pyres stationed near the water and the most surreal aspect of Varanasi. At the burning ghats bodies are placed on pyres made of wood and burned for 3 hours before their remains are then placed in the Ganges. Watching the burning ghats made me feel as if I had stepped back in time to the Medieval Ages. Even though this ceremony is a huge honor for any Hindu to receive, in my opinion cremating people outside in the open for spectators to view is a bit gnarly. But what do I know about achieving Nirvana, so I merely watch this spectacle and keep my western opinions to myself.
The burnings take place from the early morning well into the night and can cost the family up to 3,000 euro depending on the quality of the wood. Sandal wood is the most expensive and sought after wood used for the cremation. Sandalwood does the best job of fulling cremating the body and hiding the smell of burning flesh. Currently Hindu women do not attend these burning ceremonies, because in the past the widow of the man being cremated was pressured by her husband's family to throw herself on his funeral pyre. Needless to say standing by these burning ghats makes any woman Hindu or not feel a tad bit nervous about being surrounded by a male population who might want to push you into the flames, so I was on full alert.

Beyond the crazy burning ghats is the other focal point of this city, the Ganges river, which is the heart and soul of this eccentric city. The river is severely polluted and full of the remains of dead people but that does not stop people from washing and swimming in the water. I saw people straight up drinking from the river. I opted for an early morning boat ride as a way to take in the river, as apposed to a dip in this bacteria ridden body of water. It was beautiful as long as you did not study the river, but instead the picturesque scene on the shore.

It goes without saying that Varanasi is a mind blowing place that takes you out of your comfort zone and throws you right into the fire (pun intended). It is a circus of life and death and everything in between. You will never be able to look at a barbecue pit the same way again.

Tight Security

My monkey Charlie is a necessity for my travels. I have no shame. He has seen the Great Wall of China, the Forbidden City, the Eiffel Tower, the Sagrada Familia, the Colosseum, the Vatican, he got sloshed in the beer gardens in Munich, and even chilled with the hippies in Amsterdam. This monkey has a full access pass to the world my friends. But the Indians did not want him stepping foot in the Taj Muhal. Now to be fair the trip has made him a little rough around the edges and his beard has gotten a little long but to consider this monkey a terrorist threat is ludicrous. He was brutally ripped from my backpack and the Security Woman barked "No toys!" obviously this security guard was on a major power trip and was way out of line. A toy! A toy! Blasphemy! Sorry lady but this is a world traveling monkey, so why don't you cut the 'tude. Actually I maturely stuck my tongue out at her behind her back and stomped over to the lockers (ie random Indian dudes watching foreigners' stuff for donations). Then sullenly went to see the biggest tomb made out of marble, which was breath taking and amazing despite my efforts to ruin the experience by sulking and ranting about how lame India is for the first twenty minutes. The Taj Mahal was spellbinding, but no sight is the same without Charlie.