Phuket 

Our Home & Exponential Global Consumerism

We are on the wrong side of the island. That is to say, we are on the better side of the island and away from the throngs of tourists who gravitate to the Patong hub - known now more globally because of the tsunami catastrophe. I’m stymied at where to begin describing our new life – maybe with our rented house.

We have an unfurnished, two-story house in an old subdivision in Chalong. The island’s natural state is moist jungle and jungle is what we see when we look over the rooftops. The jungle competes with human intervention as best it can, so house paint tarnishes quickly, giving the uninitiated Western eye the impression that the neighborhood is little more than a poor section of molding homes and half painted cement blocks with peeling paint flaking away. It’s not that at all. This little subdivision is, in fact, a typical middle class neighborhood and the folks here tend to their homes and the streets in front of them fastidiously – nothing new here – it’s suburban anywhere in the world, with home owners tending and clipping continuously, the only difference being that they are clipping exotic plants and trees.

Phuket is an odd mix - very poor folks living next to very rich folks and a bunch of us spanning the middle. It’s been three years since I was last here and eight years since the first time I set foot on the island. The exponential loops of global progress have wormed in for sure, but the strong Thai culture has tempered it and the old ways prevail, although consumerism threatens its core sensibility. I remember when the first large shopping center, Lotus, was built a number of years ago. It was an oddity – a place where Thais, who had never experienced the likes of it came to gawk and learn how to navigate the intricacies of checkout counters and grand aisles of tempting goodies – most of them out of reach of their pocketbooks. One can't haggle over prices at Lotus – not like at the typical, old markets you see everywhere. Foreigners navigate the aisles easily and there is a large contingency of tourist and expats who shop the big centers. There are about four big shopping centers in the middle of the island now and one of them is pretty much like shopping in Singapore, sporting very fashionable shops and goods. I don’t know what to make of it. I can find the DSL modem I will need to hook me up to broadband at the end of the week, but a part of me wishes I couldn’t. The communication vortex has swept me past letters and postage stamps and it is doing the same thing to the Thais. Globalization has arrived and judgements about it all are fruitless and useless.

Food and Water

A is my sounding board. She reaffirms everything I feel about Thailand – it’s pleasures; it’s geography, its people and the unfathomable grace of the culture that has molded them. In the past, I’ve always been here alone and that was good enough, but we are social creatures and there is little pleasure at pointing at something wonderful when there is no one standing next to you to see your finger. A sees my finger and I see hers, it couldn’t be better. I'm happy as hell to be here with an understanding partner.

This is, in many ways, a paradise island, although it also owns a few niggling accoutrements of hell, which I will talk about in other posts – the yin and yang thing. The most striking thing about Thailand is the nature of its people. Much has been written about it. An Australian expat who had lived here twenty-five years once told me that just when you think you have it figured out, something always happens to screw up your take on it all. I think its best not to try to dissect the Thai way at all and it’s better to just sit back, enjoy it and try to be as much like them as your mores will allow. I learn from them every day. Gentleness, politeness, form (as they perceive it), and the constant task of never causing another person to lose “face” prevails. Perhaps the “face” thing is the most important part of the puzzle. Joy, happiness and the overall feeling of well being takes precedence over all things. The uninitiated foreigner who lands here is taken aback by the genuine, almost naïve, good nature of the Thais. It’s not put on – not for tourists and not amongst themselves – their never-ending smiles are genuine and non-judgmental. There is a lesson to be learned in Thailand that the entire world would benefit from. That, more than anything else, is why I want to be here.

There is, of course, much else to shout about. Now… A is a connoisseur of water and can’t resist jumping into a puddle anywhere, no matter how cold, or how uninviting it might be to anyone else. She loves to swim and has paddled in oceans around the globe. For my part – I hate sand between my toes and the wet car seat on the way home. Water is a bother for me, unless it’s coming out of a nice showerhead. But I have to admit… the absolutely crystal clear and warm waters surrounding this island tempt me into them and A says (with the voice of an expert) that she has never been in a better ocean in her life. That’s really saying something, coming from her. You don’t need goggles and a snorkel to see the incredible tropical fish you are swimming with and the surrounding islands and scenery are to die for. As if that’s not enough, there is always a wonderful, simple, Thai outdoor restaurant near the most remote beaches to dish up exotic flavors. It simply can’t be topped – not anywhere. It’s simple, it’s gorgeous and the people return a small smile with a broad grin. You don’t have to steel yourself in the least before submersing your torso in the ocean. I don’t like oceans. I love this ocean.

Food… Hell… I’m going to sound like some sort of Pollyanna about it all and perhaps I am – I can’t help it. I’m so bloody happy to be here again. I gotta tell ya that the food - – even the food the Western palate is accustomed to is prepared expertly by the Thai chefs and tastes better than it does in your home country. I don’t know how they do it. Thais are food wizards. They know flavors like no one else and their expertise at blending spices is unsurpassed. I have a theory about it all that is probably as specious as all my theories, but here is my take. I think Thai chefs duplicate flavors and foods with the same accuracy that Filipino and Japanese pop musicians mimic hit western tunes. Three aspects come into play regarding Thai chefs: 1. When trained by foreign restaurateurs, Thai chefs follow recipes rigorously and accurately (Phuket attracts many world class restaurateurs). 2. The ingredients are fresher here and replenished daily. 3. When it comes to Thai dishes, they are on home ground and the complexity of flavors becomes an extraordinary palette for the palate. In short, the foods are exquisite – western as well as traditional Thai. You simply cannot get the same dishes with the same flavors in even the best of Thai restaurants in other countries.

A Wok and Roll Trip to the other side of the world.

This post has been a long time in coming. The trip, the rush of excitement upon arrival and adjusting to the Thai culture once again have left little time for us to tuck into a corner and ruminate, but the fireworks of arrival experiences will fade if I don’t jot them down now. We have a clumsy internet connection, but I think I can manage it.

Trips to the opposite side of the world are notorious endurance tests and they don’t get easier, no matter how many times you’ve done it. This particular trip was sabotaged before it began while we were waiting for our Singapore Air flight in JFK. We had just flown from Boston to JFK on JetBlue (an airline I highly recommend – spacious seats and cheap fares – about as good as one can expect these days, when air travel is hardly a notch away from bus travel). We were hungry when we arrived in New York and the nearest food stall hawked oriental fare. Well… you know… it was dumb. How dumb can you get? I mean… here we were, about to fly to a country that sports some of the best and most famous culinary delights in the world, and we ordered food at a nondescript counter in JFK under a cutesy sign that read “Wok and Roll.” Does that name say 'don't buy our food,' or what? We walked back to our table with two Styrofoam squares filled with noodles coated with brown grease and two pieces of meat from an unidentifiable part of a chicken’s anatomy. “Well, it will fill the hole anyway,” A said, not having a clue of the double entendre that would soon make itself evident.

Anyone remember wind-up clocks? Well, for this trip, A was a clock wound thrice too many turns to begin with and she was wound to distraction. It was all I could do to keep her from wandering off on her own in the airports, never to be seen again; and why not? She was heading off to the other side of the world, leaving friends and family behind and following an unpredictable man to an island in the Andaman Sea. But wait! That’s what she’s done all her life – she’s flown off to live in Africa, Japan and many parts of Asia before – nothing new here, or was there? Sure it was. There are more concerns about the parachute opening when you jump off a cliff at our age than when you are twenty, and to make the leap with a belly filled with "Wok and Roll" food was an additional handicap. Little did A know how much her tummy would roll.

Yep… she was sick all the way around the world. I had so looked forward to introducing her to the gracious and elegant service on Singapore Airlines, knowing that it was the perfect introduction the world I was taking her to, but Wok and Roll owned the day and the night, and A spent the entire trip with stomach cramps and wore the aisle carpet smooth with many trips to the aft loo on the aircraft. But she’s a trooper and I heard few complaints, other than the ones easily recognized in the pallor of her face.

The long trip to Phuket was broken by a short layover in Frankfort and then a longer one in Singapore, where A gave herself a makeshift shower in front of a sink in the lady’s loo. We arrived to waiting, loving friends in Phuket around 2 PM, which was, of course, 2 AM in the land we had left thirty hours before, proving once again that our aged bodies can perform unexpected miracles when called for.