ôi chao ôi!!!

Ulrik getting pounded by the water
With an unhealthy disregard for life and limbs (and a strong recommendation from our constantly-bumping-into travel buddies, Kelly and Angela), Lee and I joined Hardy Dalat for a day of canyoning and abseiling through waterfalls! We met up with Van (our guide), his young assistant, and Sam (an American guy) at 8:30am and, after a brief stop at a local bakery to pick up some 'supplies,' were on our way to the river.

A short drive later and we stopped amidst a horde of Vietnamese tourists at a local (and obviously very popular) park. Ignoring the masses Van led us from the carpark to a small trail, which we followed for about 20min until we came to a small rock wall (about eight metres). This is where we would learn to abseil. After being kitted up in our harnesses, we were ready to throw ourselves over the ledge ... in a controlled fashion, of course. Under Van's instruction we went down the wall slowly; we jumped down and jumped side-to-side; we even practiced hanging head-down, feet-up! We were already having a ton of fun, and this was just the practice wall!

After ensuring that we weren't going to kill ourselves, Van guided us to a much higher rock wall (about 20 meters) that overlooked a beautiful valley. We all abseiled down it in fine style. One more abseil, and a welcomed lunch by the river, and Van informed us -- by taking us into the river and splashing us! -- that from here on it was going to get very, very wet.

And wet we got! Swimming, walking, and floating through the river (including a chute down a small waterfall), we found our little group stopped by a large (25 metre) waterfall. This was our big 'test,' ... we not only had to abseil down it, we were also going down the centre were the water gushed the strongest. Is this guy on crazy pills? Before setting up the ropes, Van sent his assistant to the bottom to wait for us (and, I assume, help pull us to safety after we made it to the bottom). He accomplished this by getting his assistant to lie down in the middle of the waterfall and then let him go. He shot down the falls like it was a giant, all-natural waterslide. I don't know what health insurance costs in this country, but with these guys' attitude towards the prospect of getting old, I bet it's expensive.

Lee slowly and carefully making her way down
After all the ropes were in place, and his assistant safely at the bottom waiting for us, Van guided us down one by one. It was one of the coolest things I've ever done. Just standing in the middle (horizontally AND vertically) of the falls, surrounded by rushing water, was worth every penny we paid. Talk about a power shower.

Wet, but feeling pretty exhilirated, we walked a couple of hundred meters to our next stop, a 15 metre wall with a tranquil pool below. This looked a little too easy so we weren't surprised when Van, with a little gleam in his eyes, told us that we weren't abseiling this wall but instead jumping off it! My problem is not so much with heights (which don't really bother me), but more with the jumping off them bit. There's something unnatural about leaping off perfectly good terra-firma. After Van, Sam, and Lee had jumped (I should mention that Lee took a bit of encouraging and ultimately let herself fall more than actually jumped), and taking a few moments to consider what the after-life might be like, I finally took the plunge. With a second or so of free fall, I landed with a painful crotch and a bigger ego. (I don't have to tell anybody how close I was to shitting my pants.)

Our next, and last, test was a combination of abseiling, jumping, and being shot through a waterfall chute. Crazy stuff, but loads of fun.

Thoroughly soaked, tired, a bit bruised, and hungry we went back to town. It was one of the best, and most challenging, experiences of our trip. We would so do it again, and would highly recommend it. Thanks Van, and thanks Angela and Kelly for the recommendation!

One final note ... safety-conscious readers might be asking, "Where are the helmets?" Well, I can report that, in Vietnam, putting a hand on top of your head counts as the same thing.

(Oh ... and "ôi chao ôi" is Vietnamese for "Oh my God!")

For more photos, see our Canyoning in Dalat photo album.

New Feature!

Check it out! We've added links to all our photo albums in the right-hand column.

The Great Unwashed

We're so happy ...
After more than four months of eating on the cheap (I think we're even worse than the average budget backpacker; we usually share only one dish at a street stall which usually costs us less than C$1.00), we decided to indulge our inner 'fat tourist' and splash out on a 'fancy' dinner.

While we were in Phnom Penh, we'd come across a Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) expat magazine called Asialife HCMC. This particular issue featured a very comprehensive review of pizzas -- ooooh, pizzzaaaa ... -- from 11 restaurants across the city. The best pizza, according to the three taste-testers was the Opera pizza from the Park Hyatt Saigon's restaurant Opera.

From the stringy cheese (courtesy of buffalo mozzarella) to the tomatoes, Italian salami and olives, the judges were unanimous -- this was one heck of a pizza. It scored top marks in almost every category. Quentin finally completed his quest for the perfect crust, Daniela liked the freshness of the ingredients and Bien "loved it." Coming from our firm judges, this is praise indeed.
Pizza Pazza article, December 2006 issue of AsiaLife HCMC

All this could be ours for only US$12. US$12?!? That's twice what we spend in an average day!

But since we have, indeed, been spending very little on food -- not just because we're cheap, but also because we tend to really like street food -- and have been for quite some time. And, since we've been very culinarily adventurous -- sticking with the local food for the most part and not falling back on Western food -- we figured we deserved both a financial as well as a Western indulgence. And what could be more Western than pizza (or maybe McDonald's but they don't have them in Vietnam)? Now we just had to get ourselves to HCMC!

The source of our happiness
More than a week after reading the article, it was finally time to indulge our pizza-tooth. Off we went in search of our 'holy grail' .... Unfortunately, being so preoccupied with the thoughts of ooey, gooey, cheesey, crispy-but-chewy pizza, and because it had been so long since we've sat down in a proper restaurant (if seating is an option, and it usually isn't, it's usually a plastic chair pulled up to a metal folding table in the centre of a sidewalk next to the belching buses, cars, and motorbikes; a 'dress-code' is a foreign concept) we neglected to give any thought as to how we were dressed. And we were dressed even more 'budget-backpacker' than normal. Because we had opted for the cheap-but-slow option at the laundry (only C$0.17 per kilo vs C$0.34!), the clothes we were wearing had seen better days ... like three days previously when we handed in all our laundry and first started wearing them! While three days of constant wear in a colder climate might not be too bad -- okay, even in a colder climate three days is pretty bad -- in a hot and polluted environment like HCMC you feel less than fresh a few minutes after leaving the relatively clean sanctuary of your guesthouse. We were literally the "great unwashed"! (Well, we had bathed at least; our standards are low, yes, but we do have them.) In addition to their questionable state of cleanliness, the items we were wearing were more suited to a gym (I was wearing my Lululemon sports top) or the beach (Ulrik was wearing boards shorts and a rash shirt -- don't forget, everything else we had was being washed) than dinner at a posh hotel.

But, not only did the staff of the very swank Park Hyatt Saigon not physically prevent us from sullying their immaculate and pristine environs with our presence, they actually held open the door and welcomed us in.

And fortunately, since we were eating early the restaurant had only a few patrons who, although not as casually attired as us, were by no means dressed to the nines. So we didn't stick out like sore smelly thumbs! (Besides, we joked that they probably just assumed we were old money ... you know, people who have been rich for so long that they don't care what other people think.)

We sat down to a table dressed with a starched white tablecloth, cloth napkins, and silver cutlery, and started to relax. The restaurant was so calm; we couldn't hear the traffic, we couldn't smell the exhaust fumes, and we weren't interrupted by street sellers. It was wonderful!

Deciding to splurge even more than planned, we opted for appetizers in addition to the pizza. Ulrik had a wonderful frisée salad with walnuts, Gorgonzola cheese, and apples; I had a fantastic tuna carpaccio with freshly shaved Parmesan and lemon. And the pizza? We ended up getting a "pizza-for-two", which was US$4.00 more, topped by Italian salami, mushrooms, and Gorgonzola cheese.

The entire meal -- which I should say cost a grand total of US$38 -- was worth every penny.

For more photos, see our Vietnam photo album.

To Market, To Market ...

Floating 'Starbucks'
I have always regretted not seeing the floating markets in Bangkok when I was in Thailand in 2000-2001. Although I was determined to go this time around, everyone we met said they were over-touristed and to wait and visit the markets in the Mekong Delta as they are a much more authentic experience -- the markets function for the locals, not the tourist masses. So that is what we did.

After arriving in Can Tho, we quickly arranged a boat tour of the two largest markets in the area -- the Cai Rang floating market and the Phong Dien floating market. Our tour would also take in a rice vermicelli 'factory' and a tour of one of the local villages. All told, it would take eight hours and cost US$12 each.

We met our boat captain, who greeted us with a big grin and a bag of bananas and bread (our breakfast), bright and early at 5:00am! After getting on board his boat -- a traditional wooden fishing boat with stand-up oars (fortunately it also had an engine) -- we were on our way.

It was so peaceful floating along; the sun was just rising and the only sound was the quiet hum of the boat's small engine. Upon arriving at the first floating market (Cai Rang), we were greeted by the 'Starbucks' boat. Ten thousand dong (~C$0.66) later and we were each enjoying a cup of the local java (liberally spiked with sweetened condensed milk, of course).

A pineapple seller at the floating market
The market is quite an experience. It's very busy, with boats jostling for space. Most were like the boat we were on, only instead of carrying two 'fat' tourists, they were loaded to the brim with the local produce. Each boat 'advertised' its wares by tying a sample to a flagpole of sorts, so from a distance you can easily see who has the pineapples or turnips or beets or Asian greens. Once you decide what you want, you pull your boat alongside, inspect the goods, make your selection, have it weighed on a small scale, haggle over the price, come to a deal, exchange money for goods, and move on to the next item on your grocery list. It's a shame we don't have markets like this in Canada -- grocery shopping would be so much more fun!

Our next stop was a tour of a rice noodle 'factory' and the surrounding local village. It was really interesting seeing how they transform rice grains into rice noodles. The rice is first ground into a thin watery batter (similar to the batter for crepes); it's then steam-cooked over a drum-like instrument. After cooking for a few minutes it is removed to a cooling rack and the racks are laid in the sun to dry. Once the rice 'crepes' are dry, they are put through a cutting machine. Voila! Rice noodles.

A large portion of the tour was just meandering through the many small waterways that cut through the area. This was a really nice way to see the local village life in a way that's unobtrusive.

Halfway along one quiet canal, our boat captain turned off the engine. We didn't think anything of it -- he periodically cut the engine to clear debris the small propeller got entangled with -- but then we noticed that his little propeller hadn't picked up anything; on the contrary, it had lost something ... as in one of its two blades! The boat captain didn't seem at all concerned -- we quickly relaxed as well -- and, with a smile still on his face, immediately started rooting around in his tool box. He pulled out a spare propeller, a wrench, and a small hatchet, and quickly set to work. Bracing the broken prop with the wrench, he whacked the remaining blade with the hatchet. Unfortunately, rather than loosening the prop for removal, the first whack resulted in the other blade flying off. He stopped smiling after that and started looking very serious; now he didn't have anything to leverage against to remove the prop. We, on the other hand, weren't at all worried. We were in a small canal quite far from where we started, yes, but we could hear there was a road running alongside the canal, and the water, although dirty looking, was slow moving and was not very deep. After trying a few different things -- with Ulrik trying to help -- he paddled us to a nearby landing where another man jumped aboard with his hatchet. (While in Canada, if something is broken you hit it or whack it; in Vietnam you take a hatchet to it!). Together, along with their hatchets, they were able to remove the broken prop and replace it with the spare. We were back on our way!

We visited a second smaller floating market (Phong Dien) and floated through more quiet canals, with our boat captain feeding us watermelon along the way, before arriving back at our starting point. Although a bit long, it had been an enjoyable tour. Our boat captain was the highlight though. Although he didn't speak much, he was so friendly and genuine.

For more photos, see our Floating Markets photo album.

Up the mountain, down the mountain ...

Enjoying the view
After crossing the Cambodia/Vietnam border, we arrived in a small town called Chau Doc. As we were already 10 days into our 30-day visa (long story) we had only one morning available to us to explore the city; we decided to use it to walk to the top of the nearby Sam Mountain.

The 237-metre-tall Sam Mountain is located six kilometres from the city centre, and is considered an important site to the local population. It has a paved road that goes right to the summit but we, of course, wanted an extra challenge and instead walked up to the summit using a small foot path. To stretch our legs even more, and to save a few bucks, we also decided to forgo motorized transport and walked the six kilometres to and from the mountain's base. Yes ... we are that cheap!

This meant that we had to get a very early start so we would be back in town for our afternoon bus to Can Tho, our next destination. Hence, breakfast was had on the street (a tasty rice noodle soup) at 6:00am. The walk to the mountain wasn't the most exciting, but it was good to stretch our legs after being stuck on a bus and boat for more than eight hours the previous day (to cross the Cambodia/Vietnam border), and a lot of people smiled, waved, and shouted hellos to us along the way.

The walk to the mountain's base took about an hour, and arriving was like walking into a fair ground. There were people milling about everywhere, and stalls selling anything you might think you needed (and a few that you didn't!). Cutting a quick path through the crowds, we located a small trail that meandered through a temple and a grave yard. The path turned out to be very well maintained with concrete steps most of the way to the top. But if we thought we were taking the 'path less travelled,' we were completely wrong. Although there weren't a lot of people (I think because of the time of day), the path was lined with numerous restaurants selling cold drinks, facecloths, and even offering hammocks, for all those weary travelers passing by!

When, after climbing for about 45min, we finally reached the top, we were rewarded with fantastic views of both Vietnam and Cambodia. We were also greeted by the throngs of other 'climbers' who had opted for the aircon buses. Bastards!

Ulrik the superstar!
After about 5min of enjoying the spectacular views and catching our breaths, we were approached by a small group of young ladies who asked if they could get their photo taken with us. Of course we were happy to help, but before we realized it a whole line had formed of people who also wanted a holiday picture with the tall, blond foreigner! Lee was a bit sidelined, and she later said that she now knew what it must feel like to be nobody wife of a celebrity. I think someone was perhaps a little jealous ...?

Realizing there was a serious possibility of getting stuck for a long time (the professional holiday photographers -- always with an eye for a profit-making opportunity -- were actively working the crowd to get more photos), we did a few more and then, during a lull, turned tail and headed back down the mountain.

What goes up ...
The going down proved far easier then going up, although the number of people walking against us had increased. Some were even carrying heavy loads of food, drinks, blocks of ice, and tired children. At least with our small daypack we couldn't complain too much. Straight down the mountain we went, and headed directly back to town. After arriving back at our guesthouse, a sweaty hour-and-a-half later, we rewarded ourselves with a big bottle of ice-cold water and a lunch of fried rice, then settled in to wait for our bus to Can Tho.

For more photos, see our Vietnam photo album.

Mr Ulrik

Ulrik and 'his' English class
After only a day at the school, I was asked to teach a small class of four intermediate English students. Later in the week, another teacher (Mr Sal) had to stay home due to pain in the neck (literally ... it wasn't the students being a pain in the neck), and with typical Cambodian organization, the caretaker(!), Mr Ny, asked me five minutes before class if I could possibly step in. Sure ... no problem. Lee came with me for support, but having 30 students -- all very much at the beginner level -- stare at me in eager anticipation, is surely one of the most scary things I have ever done. It’s right up there with dancing for a boatload of Indonesians ...

Considering the circumstance, the lesson went as well as it could. With absolutely no Khmer, it certainly wasn’t easy. I did manage to lead them in practicing some question words (what, where, when, etc.), which they had learned the day before. All credit, however, goes to the students for not giving up on my floundering ‘teaching’, and staying for the duration.

For more photos, see our Alysha Chan School photo album.

Getting to Know Cambodia

Lee and the giggly girls from Mr Sal's evening English class
clockwise from left: Chendu, Piseh, Lee, Maly, Chanthan, Paula, and Ratchna
Okay ... enough seriousness ...

After seeing the temples of Cambodia, and learning more about the sad history of Cambodia, we thought it was time to get to know the Cambodia of today. Well, that is, the Cambodia of today that doesn't include crazy motorcycle/scooter drivers!

Although most visitors to Cambodia just hit the temples and then head for Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam or Bangkok in Thailand (depending on which direction they're travelling), we really wanted to see a bit more of Cambodia.

Part of this was because I really wasn't sure if I liked Cambodia. Certainly the temples were mysterious and beautiful. And yes, I felt incredibly sad for the Cambodian people because of their recent tragic history. But, to be brutally honest, I really wasn't sure if I liked the Cambodian people. The people we had been in contact with were pushy, aggressive, and just not very friendly -- most treated us as though we were walking wallets! To be fair, though, we were firmly on the tourist track so the people we were interacting with were those used to dealing with tourists in big shiny air-con buses that flit in, throw their dollars around and take photos of the poor begging locals, and flit out again. (Yes, I know I am stereotyping horrendously, but you know what I mean.)

I knew if we left without seeing more of Cambodia (i.e. get off the tourist track), we would be leaving with an incomplete picture.

Since we were interested in doing some volunteer work, we thought this might be a great way to not only offer a bit of help, but also meet Cambodians not associated with the tourist trade (i.e. the vast majority!). We saw a couple of postings for volunteers in the area where we were staying in Phnom Penh, and did a bit of research online. We found an organization that runs an English school in a small village just 50km south of Phnom Penh. The village of Tropaeng Sdock consists of only 100 families; it is home to the Alysha Chan School which is run by a German/Cambodian relief organization called Sorya.

The primary role of volunteers is a simple one; speak with the students so they can practice their English. We were also called on to assist the teachers (who are English students as well) and on several occasions we actually lead the class!

Ulrik taught several advanced English classes; I lead one class and then assisted with the teaching of another. The students ranged in age from 10 years to the early twenties, and the majority of students were attending the local primary or high school full-time. The one hour or one-and-one-half hour English classes were held during the lunch 'break' and in the evening. It was a very long day for many of them!

The children and staff were so friendly. Both the students and the staff seemed to enjoy speaking with us and asking us questions. The students would often whisper amongst themselves before someone was finally brave enough (usually with a lot of prodding from their friends) to ask a question out loud. And no matter what the question, the answer always seemed to elicit a round of giggles.

Several girls in the evening class I worked with (see photo above) were determined to teach me some Khmer. When they found out on Friday that I was leaving the next day, they completely ignored my attempts to get them to pay attention to the teacher and tried to jam as much as possible into my 'lesson'. I have to admit that I liked them so much that my attempts were a bit half-hearted.

After only a week at the school, though, it was time to leave. Although we really enjoyed our time there, and I am quite certain the school would have been happy to have us stay, the situation wasn't the best fit for us. There was a lot of downtime between classes and not much to do to fill it, and both Ulrik and I felt we weren't well-equipped for actually teaching English which was something we had both been called on to do. If we do something like this again, and I really think we will, we'd like to get some formal training in order to be able to do it properly.

But we are so happy for having had this experience. We met some really lovely people: Mr Ny and his wife (the caretaker and the cook); Mr Sal, Mr Sras, Miss Nyet, and Miss Kung Kea (teachers); Mr Theon (the school administrator); and Jakob (a volunteer from Germany). And, of course, all the students. They were so open and welcoming; they seemed to be so happy to have us there that even though we didn't feel like we were able to do much, they made us feel like we were doing a lot.

For more photos, see our Alysha Chan School photo album.

Quick Note

Just a quick note to say that Ulrik and I are heading out into rural Cambodia. We are interested in doing some volunteer work and have a lead on a school in a village about 50km from Phnom Penh. We're heading there today and, if all works out, will stay for a couple of weeks. Since it's a small village it's unlikely they will have any internet access, so no emailing/blogging for awhile ...

Tuol Sleng & Choeung Ek

Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum
The temples of Angkor are, some might say, a less important part of Cambodia's history. Certainly they are beautiful and awe-inspiring. They are, of course, very photogenic ... their images grace the postcards that are sold (12 for only US$1) at their feet and tourists clamour on, over, and in front of them for their own photos. But I think if you are going to see only one thing, or perhaps two things, while in Cambodia, they should be the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum/Security Prison 21 (S-21) and the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek.

Memorial Stupa at Choeung Ek
Both sites are difficult to visit. The obvious reason is, of course, because of what took place there. But another reason is the atmosphere of both settings. Tuol Sleng has such a banality to it. The building was a high school and, other than the barbed wire, it still looks like a high school from the outside. Choeung Ek was an orchard on the outskirts of Phnom Penh; it retains that natural peacefulness, which was only reinforced by the beautiful sunny day on which we visited.

But then you get closer; you look closer. You see the open pits at Choeung Ek; you see the bars on the windows at Tuol Sleng. And you know that as disturbing as these images are, they are only that. Images. They cannot even begin to convey what it must have really been like ... to be imprisoned at Tuol Sleng, to arrive on a truck at Choeung Ek.

If you come to Cambodia, don't see just the temples. See Cambodia.

For more photos, see our Tuol Sleng & Choeung Ek photo album (please note, some of these photos are quite disturbing).

Temples of Angkor

A bas-relief at Angkor Wat
Another hot, sweaty, dusty, and bone-grinding ride -- but this time on a bus -- and we were in Siam Reap (which in Khmer means 'Thailand's Defeat' ... who said these guys didn't have a sense of humour?). We arrived after dark (of course!) around 9:30pm in front of a guesthouse 'recommended' by the guys from the bus company (of course!). Not wanting to give them any more of our money after they'd overcharged us for a rundown bus (the only AC was of the natural sort), we grabbed our bags (we literally had to grab them because they weren't going to give them to us) and headed to a guest house of our own choosing, Jasmine Lodge. Jasmine's turned out to be quite nice so we dropped our bags, had a bite to eat, showered, and turned in for the night.

While Siam Reap's, and to some extent Cambodia's, claim to fame are the nearby temples of Angkor (namely Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, Bayon, etc., etc., etc.), we decided to take a rest day after all the fun we'd had on the road from Bangkok. (I've never had to bribe a border guard before, so I consider it 100B/C$3 well-spent.)

Our first order of business was to check out the Cambodian medical scene. I had a small infection under one of my nails and I ended up spending a good part of the morning at a doctor's office getting a serious manicure. It set us back US$90 which Lee wasn't too pleased about, though it did cheer her up a bit when I told her how painful it had been to be under the knife (or in this case, the nail clippers). It's much better now, and seems to be healing well.

After getting my boo-boo fixed, we went to a 'small' exhibition by a local master sculptor. It featured miniature scale models of the main temples in the area, specifically Angkor Wat, Beng Mealea, and Bayon. The level of detail was truly amazing.

Ulrik towering over Angkor Wat
The following day we met up with Angela and Kelly, two Canadian girls we met while crossing the border, and biked around the temples (about 38km in total). The temples were built by a number of Khmer rulers in the period between 875AD and 1230AD, and although are no longer actively used for organized worship, many of them are in remarkable shape. The most famous is Angkor Wat, and from its size and splendor one can see why. It's possible to walk through most of it, taking in the stately towers, steep staircases, narrow corridors, and now-dry pools. Although it is truly spectacular in person, Lee and I agreed that it's much easier to get a sense of the granduer while looking at the miniature replica. The real thing is just too big to take in.

With four rental bikes, all at least a hundred years old, something was bound to give. And sure enough, the rear axle on Lee's bicycle broke down. And, of course, it happened during the hottest part of the day (around 12:30pm) and on the far side of the ruin complex, leaving us with the prospect of having to walk the remaining 19km under the intense midday sun. After walking for more than an hour (the girls were nice enough not to ditch us) with periodic breaks to look at temples, the sky started to darken; the afternoon rains were coming. Luckily, two young boys, Bor and Sat, came to our aid and took us to their uncle's bicycle repair 'store' (it was essentially a box of tools and parts by the side of the road) in a nearby village. As the uncle didn't give us an estimate of the cost before starting, and us being the cynical foreigners we are, we were a bit concerned that we might be in for a nasty surprise when the time came to pay up. But we needn't have worried. The bill for time, labour, and materials came to one measly dollar! After our experiences at the border and around the temples, it was good to be reminded that not all Cambodians are just out to get our money. For their help we gave the boys a ride back to the main road -- they sat on our bike racks (sure would have loved a picture of that!) -- and bought some postcards from them. With two sets of working wheels (the girls had moved ahead by this point), we hit one more temple before heading back for a hearty dinner.

Lee feeling even littler than normal
The following day, having not quite reached our temple limit, the four of us hired a driver and remorque-moto, a kind of four-person carriage pulled by a scooter, to take us 70km to the temple of Beng Mealea. Beng Mealea has been almost completely overtaken by the jungle and is in a serious state of disrepair. There are piles of sandstone blocks everywhere, and many of the walls that haven't fallen down yet look like they will soon. It's enough to make any Indiana Jones/Lara Croft wannabe go crazy. After several hours of exploring and climbing around, we started the ride home. In true Southeast Asian style, the moto of course broke down at the half-way mark -- are they built to do this? -- and we spent about 45 minutes at the side of the road watching the traffic go by (including a bike covered with chickens!).

Notice their heads ... those chickens are alive!
Just when we thought we would be walking home, the engine roared to life and we were back on the road.

For more photos, see our Cambodia photo album.

Bribes at the Border

Welcome to Cambodia, welcome to chaos!
After a long, sweaty, and sooty six-hour train ride (third class ticket only 48B/C$1.60 each), we arrived at the Thai border town of Aranya Prathet. A short tuk-tuk drive away and we were at the border. Welcome to chaos! To say the Thai/Cambodia border crossing at Aranya Prathet/Poipet is overwhelming is an understatement. There are people everywhere! And most of them are clamouring for a piece of you. First, there are the bus touts who want to make sure they get you on their overpriced rundown bus. Then there are the 'visa application specialists' who want to assist you in completing your visa application ... for a small fee, of course. (Fortunately, I printed these off and completed them in advance in Bangkok -- not because I knew about the visa application specialists, but because I am anal. Yay for being anal!)

And, finally, there are the passport control guys themselves. We were forewarned about these guys. Despite there being a sign -- in English -- directly over his window stating that the cost of a Cambodian visa is US$20, the passport control guy insisted the fee was 1000B (about US$30). The Book's advice about what to do in a situation like this is to remain calm but be firm. So we played the stupid tourist.

Passport Officer: "Visa 1000B"
Us: "Oh." (pretending to look confused) "But the sign says US$20."
Passport Officer: "Visa 1000B"
Us: (still pretending to look confused) "But the sign, it says US$20."
Passport Officer: (completely deadpan) "Old sign."

We went back and forth like this for a bit. Then we tried, "But we don't have any Baht left." To which he helpfully replied that there was an exchange counter around the corner. We had also been warned that the exchange rates would be horrendous, so we definitely weren't going there. We replied that this (two US$20 bills) was all we had. They paused a bit at that. Then changed tactics. Now he wanted our US$40 and 100B (about C$3) each. We could live with that but when we opened our wallet we realized that we had only a 500B note. I really didn't think he would give us change, but there must be some sort of 'honour among thieves' because he didn't even pause when he saw our 500B note and gave us the proper change without any problem.

So we had our visa. Next we had to get it validated. So we went to another window, filled in another form, and got our stamp. This part of the process was relatively painless, and by this point we were only being dogged by the bus touts.

Despite our best efforts, however, we still got caught in their trap. We had, all along the way, been ignoring all the bus touts. But just before we got our visa, a young Cambodian man came up to us. He explained that he worked with the Cambodian Tourist Authority (sounds good but we later found out that it's actually the name of a tour company) and he advised us to ignore all the bus touts. Instead, there was a free shuttle that would take us to the bus station where the prices would all be listed and we could make our own choice. Then he pointed us in the direction of the visa counter and left us. He left us! This is how he caught us; touts never leave you alone. What a brilliant tactic! After we got our visa, he came back and showed us the way to the 'free' shuttle (we should have known ... nothing is ever free). He showed up again after we got our visas validated and pointed out the 'free' shuttle to the bus station. Of course, when we got to the bus station all the buses were the overpriced rundown buses that we had been trying to avoid. Who even knows if this was actually the right bus station? We were well-caught. But we didn't go down without a fight. All the bus tickets were US$10 (compared to the US$4 the Book listed), but we managed to get ours down to 300B (about US$7.50). A small victory certainly, but still a victory.

For more photos, see our Cambodia photo album.

Here a Temple, There a Temple, Everywhere a ...

A saffron-cloth draped Buddha statue
Needing to get out of Bangkok, we jumped on a local (and cheap; only 15B/C$0.50 per person) train for the two-hour journey to Ayutthaya, the former capital of Thailand. Ayutthaya has changed hands several times from Thailand to Burma and back again, and is known for having some impressive Khmer ruins. Lee visited way back in 2000 with a friend from home and that, coupled with her not being that into big piles of rocks, meant she wasn't that keen on the trip. But she knew it was a must-see, she wanted me to see it, and she wanted to get out of Bangkok so she graciously agreed to accompany me. (Although I think I heard her mumble something under her breath about preferring to have her kidney removed with a rusty spoon ...)

Although it was only two hours, it was a long and dirty ride -- 3rd class trains only have 'natural' AC, meaning open windows. Although the breeze is nice the engine fumes blowing in your face is not. Our journey ended on a pleasant note though; to get to the old city from the train station required taking a short boat ride (3B/C$0.10) which was rather cool.

Locating a guest house took a little time as we're never willing to spring for a cab and, for some reason, seem to prefer to schlep our bags around in the hot sun. But after checking a couple of places, we settled on Baan Lotus (Home of Lotus), which is a beautiful and well-kept Thai-style teak house on a quiet lane. The hostess was even better (her name in Thai, which I can't remember, means 'lotus' hence 'Home of Lotus'). She is this tiny little older lady who is quite chatty. While checking us in she told us she had a Master's degree in Medical Research Science with specialties in haematology and immunology, and that although she's now retired she occasionally lectures at private universities in Bangkok. Although she was politely interested in what I did, she erroneously thought Lee was in the same field (Lee recruits doctors and nurses for hospitals in the Middle East), and in short order she was inviting Lee to join her on the prestigious lecture circuit! Lee said she would be sure to look into it. (It was easier to agree than trying to explain again that she wasn't a nurse.)

After getting some information from Lotus, we headed to the temple Wat Phanan Choeng, where pilgrims from Bangkok go on the weekend to perform an interesting ritual. Since we arrived at the temple on a Sunday, we got a chance to see it firsthand and it really was quite spectacular. Housed in the main building is a 19m tall sitting Buddha. Devotees kneel at its base and are blessed with sprinklings of holy water distributed by a monk. Many bring offerings of incense, oils, fruit, etc., which are left on a small alter in front of the Buddha. But the central part of the ceremony seemed to be the lengths of saffron-coloured cloth which could be purchased for 140B (about C$5.00). Devotees would pass their tray of folded-up cloth to a guy in front who, in mannerism, was sort of a cross between a southern preacher and an auctioneer. With much flourish and great style, he would throw the folded cloths up to a handful of guys standing in the lap of the Buddha statue itself. Once a satisfactory number of cloths had been 'offered,' the chanting and drums increased in tempo and intensity and the gathered crowd were whipped into a frenzy (well, since we're talking about Buddhists here it's probably more accurate to describe it as a state of slight excitement). Meanwhile, the guys on the statue had secured the cloths to the Buddha's neck and shoulders and threw the free ends of the cloth back out over the praying crowd. People quickly handed the cloth to waiting hands behind them so very soon the lengths of cloth extended from the Buddha's shoulders, over the heads of the devotees, and out the entrance. At this point the drums reached a sort of crescendo, and within a few seconds it was all over. The cloths were collected. The devoted departed. And a few minutes later the whole ceremony started again with a new group. It quite a spectacular display to witness.

Ulrik enjoying the view
The following day we decided we had had enough of walking around in the heat, and instead opted to bike around in the heat. We were able to rent a couple of rickety and well-used bicycles (the old-style cruising kind) for 40B (C$1.30) each for the day. Ayutthaya has a plethora of great temple ruins, so it was just a matter of picking some. We began with Wat Phra Mahathat where I saw one of the most famous religious sites in Thailand: the sandstone head of a Buddha encased in the roots of a banyan tree. I had to do most of the exploring on my own as Lee had visited these ruins before and decided instead to hide in the shade. We also took a quick look at the Old Royal Palace and Wat Phra Si Sanphet.

After returning the bikes and enjoying a small break in front of the fan, we joined a tour arranged by our intrepid hostess. Along with three other couples, we were taken by túk-túk (a sort of motorised three-wheeled rickshaw; although they usually seat only two, the ones in Ayutthaya were 'sedan'-types that could seat up to six) to see some of the outlying temples and monuments. Because this was an evening/night tour, several of the temples were lit by spotlights which made for some nice visual affects. In addition to the temples, we also stopped at an elephant kraal (where we got to play with some baby elephants) and the local night market. It was all really interesting, but after half-a-day of sight-seeing on our own followed by a three-hour tour, we were both suffering from a bad case of temple-fatigue. We were more than happy to return to our cosy guesthouse for some rest before heading back to Bangkok the next morning.

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Baby Elephants

Isn't he cute?!?
While in Ayutthaya we were able to visit an elephant kraal. (A kraal is a wooden stockade that was used to round up wild elephants.) It was one of the more memorable parts of our trip to the ancient city.

There were many elephants to see and, surprisingly -- for me anyway -- they were much smaller than I expected. (Asian elephants are apparently smaller than their African cousins.) But the focus of all the attention was two baby elephants. They were so cute! Although they spent a lot of the time close to their mothers, they regularly ventured out to give one of us a sniff or a seemingly affectionate 'bump' with their bodies. They even grabbed for our hands with their trunks a few times! Although they look soft and fuzzy, their 'fur' is actually very bristle-y hair and their skin feels is quite rough to the touch.

While the babies were quite rough-and-tumble, you could see that all the foreign visitors were tying to be careful in their contact with the babies. For myself, this was because (a) I'm not used to being that close to wild animals so I am very aware that even though it might be well-trained or domesticated, I still understand that it is a wild animal; (b) the mothers were only a few feet away and who knew how they might react if we scared one of the babies by being too aggressive; and (c) you just don't pull on or yank on or try to climb on an animal. But then these local children came along and they were just so unpleasant! They were chasing the babies, jumping on them, pulling their ears and tails, trying to ride them, etc. Although the mother elephants didn't react negatively (perhaps they're used to this?), I was ready to smack a few of the kids on their behalf. Fortunately, the little (human) animals didn't stay long.

But it did make me wonder about what kind of life these elephants have. Although the babies were free to run around, the adult animals were chained by one leg. I suppose, being the size they are, they could escape if they really wanted to ...

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Sunshine Sunshine!

Amazing creatures, aren't they?
(source: Liza's Reef)
Being well and truly over Koh Samui, we were glad to get on a slow boat to Koh Tao -- especially after having to spend most of an afternoon trying to find an agent that didn't charge us a 'tourist' tax on the tickets and then still paying a 100B (about C$3) more than we had to! Oh Samui ...

Koh Tao is, as most of you know, where Lee and I met, did most of our diving, and spent about nine months in 2000 and 2001. Of course, spending so much time in one place means that it has a lot of good memories associated with it, so naturally we were a bit anxious about going back. Would it still be the same laid-back place or had it become all resort-y? Would Sunshine Divers (where we learned to dive and worked) still be around, and would the people still be as fun? At one point we even discussed not going just in case it wouldn't be as we remembered it and we would be disappointed -- you know what they say about not being able to go home again .... In the end we decided to go if for no reason other than that we were so close. Besides, we would likely regret if we didn't.

So there we were; on a boat crossing azure blue waters with a bright sunny sky above us. So far so good. Our first impression on pulling into the pier at Mae Haad (the main 'town' on Koh Tao) was that everything looked pretty much the same. Sure there were a few new buildings and a few more boats, but it sure did look like days of old. Wasting no time, we walked across the rickety wooden pier and bumped into a guy named David who, from the t-shirt he was wearing, was associated with Sunshine (turns out he's an instructor). He nicely arranged a free lift for us to Chalok Baan Kao ('our' beach) and the dive centre. Except for a few structural improvements, Sunshine looked very much like its old self and even though all our old colleagues had moved on (mostly to other parts of the island!), Soe was still running the restaurant. So we could enjoy our old lunch of chicken and cheese sandwiches. (And, yes, they tasted just as good as we remembered!) We sorted out a room, signed up for some diving, and breathed a sigh of relief that the place had the same vibe we remembered.

It's like we never left.
As we have dived all the sites numerous times, we focused on the most spectacular ones. Our strategy totally paid off, and on our second day of diving we spent more than 45mins diving with a playful, six meter long whale shark at Chumphon Pinnacle. Lee got a little mad at me for leaving her in the dust to follow it into the blue for a bit. Women can be so jealous sometimes ....

In addition to Soe and a few other non-dive staff who are still at Sunshine, we also bumped into Steve (my first instructor) who was now working at another dive centre, Pe-et who is married to Pi-mu who used to manage Sunshine and who now owns a shop in town, and Jonas (the course director of my instructor course) while checking out the changes in Mae Haad. They all remembered us, which was very nice. Some friends we didn't catch, as they were temporarily off island, were Darius and Jeff (both were instructors at Sunshine when we were there). Jeff now owns a very popular sports bar on Sairee beach and Darius owns a open-air gym!

Check out our wheels!
After a few dives, we decided to do something we'd never done before; actually explore the rest of the 3km long island! Lee was all gung-ho about renting a scooter for some serious rubber burning, and I reluctantly agreed (being rather worried about life and limbs on Koh Tao's pot-holed roads). I needn't have worried though, and we ended up having a great day exploring some undiscovered (to us anyway) bays and beaches. We finished the day at our favorite pizzeria, La Matta, with Ben (who we crossed the border with) and his friend Claire.

All in all, it was a good trip down memory lane. Koh Tao may be more build up now than it was before, and some good people have moved on, but it's still definitely an amazing place to hang for a bit. It's likely that it'll be a while before we head back, but after seeing it again I am pretty sure we will.

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Starbucks Schmarbucks!

Ulrik and Oi, the coffee lady
Who needs Starbucks? We sure don't! We have discovered a far superior way to get our caffeine fix. Her name is Oi and, unfortunately for you lot, her coffee 'establishment' is a cart on Khao San Road in Bangkok, Thailand.

Her coffee (iced only) deserves a place in coffee heaven, because that's where you go when you drink it. It's a simple mix of hot 'sock' coffee (the cloth filter is shaped like a sock), condensed milk, and a final splash of evaporated milk. Poured over a bag of roughly chopped ice, it quickly cools and you drink it through a straw.

Mmmmmmmmm ...
If you're more a mocha fan (as Ulrik is) she makes an iced coffee and chocolate drink too. Both are oh so very good.

Oh, and did I mention they cost only C$0.50??

I'm going to go get one now ...!

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Another Reason to Hate Us

Although we were quite eager to escape Chaweng (especially once I had my steak dinner), little did we know that Samui had a little surprise in store for us.

We had only just left our room when a British bloke by the name of Alex approached us and offered us a couple of scratch-off tickets -- the luxury resort he was working for was having a promotion and we could 'scratch-and-win' a free prize. Normally we're pretty skeptical of such offers but since we didn't have any plans and since he seemed like a nice guy we thought, "Why not?" I had the great fortune of winning a crappy bright yellow t-shirt (which I later left behind in our hut), but Lee got three stars, the fabled Grand Prize! Alex was gobsmacked or, at least, he put on a good show of being gobsmacked. Our prize was either 20,000B (more than C$700) in cash, a digital camera, a camcorder, a laptop, or a 'dream vacation.' The catch? (Of course, there's always a catch.) All we had to do was listen to a 90 minute sales pitch for a 'holiday membership' at their luxury resort -- with "no obligation" to buy anything -- and the gift was ours. They'd even pay for our transportation there and back. Thinking it would be fun to see how the well-heeled spend their vacation, we again thought, "Why not?" and were ready to jump into their taxi.

Before we left, though, Alex had to make sure we met the eligibility requirements. It quickly became apparent they were trying to weed out the backpacker set (e.g. you can't be travelling for longer than six weeks; you must be gainfully employed or retired; you must be paying at least 1000B/night on your current accommodation, etc.). We failed all three! But we didn't tell Alex that. The only one we copped to was the accommodations (we were paying only 400B/night) because we figured if they asked us where we were staying, they would quickly figure out that it was a backpacker haunt (it's been around for years). But Alex said to just say that we were staying in a more expensive room, and it shouldn't be a problem. When we got to their office, however, we had a hairy moment when, after asking us where we were staying and how much we were paying (we said the Embassy at 1100B/night; we picked it because when we arrived a guy asked us if we were interested in staying there for 800B/night and told us it was brand new ... we figured they probably wouldn't be familiar with it), the lady picked up the phone and started dialling. We thought for sure the jig was up! But no, she was just calling to arrange for one of the sales guys to meet us at the sales office.

The resort turned out to be absolutely stunning with amazing bungalows (actually, in this price class they're called 'suites' and 'villas'), infinity pools, private beaches, and fancy restaurants. David (our sales guy, an expat from Scotland) was really nice and not at all pushy. And the package he was selling seemed quite reasonable but, of course, after an interesting three hours (it was his first day and we were his first pitch) we turned it down. After a friendly handshake we were back at the main office where we received our big prize: the 'dream vacation'! It's not all inclusive -- we have to get there ourselves and food isn't included -- but it is seven days accommodation in a 5-star hotel in one of a selected list of countries. Maybe we'll trade the cockroaches with silk sheets while in India?

Next up, the dive paradise of Koh Tao. Has the Chalok Ban Kao beach been overrun with package tourists, McDonald's, and Starbucks? Are the whale sharks still around? Is Soe still making his strangely addictive chicken and cheese sandwiches? Stay tuned to find out.

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Churrasco = A Great Steak Dinner

That's one good piece of meat!
After living like monks for almost a week, we could think of nothing better than a big juicy steak to herald our return to normal life (well, I couldn't ... Lee seems to have taken a perverse liking to the endless amounts of rice gruel served at Suan Mokkh). The best place I could think of to get one was this great steak restaurant on Koh Samui that I had been to more than nine years ago. And Koh Samui was conveniently (sort of) on the way to our old dive haunt Koh Tao (aka Turtle Island). Obviously it was meant to be ...

What we found upon arriving at Chaweng Beach (the biggest beach on Samui and where my steak dinner was located), however, was nothing less than overwhelming: painfully loud music from every restaurant and club, hawkers selling more useless stuff then one could ever need, and hordes of large-sized speedo-wearing foreigners with young Thai girlfriends. This truly was the complete opposite end of the spectrum from the calm and tranquility of Suan Mokkh and, needless to say, the exact sort of environment we usually try to avoid. Lee was ready to kill me for dragging her there, and was more than prepared to jump on the next boat.

I managed to convince her to stay, and so we headed for Churrasco Steak House -- truly the only reason for subjecting yourself to Chaweng. I had been there about nine years ago with Andrew, an old friend from the UK, and the memory of the place had stayed with me all these years. Would it be as great as I remembered? According to Lee, it better be!

The place had not changed one bit. The German owner was still behind the counter and the walls were the same colour complete with the old cow skulls ... classy. And, most important, the steaks were still juicy. Success.

Lee, not being a fan of upmarket foreign restaurants (aka pricey) and not quite ready for a big honking slab of meat after Suan Mokkh's basic culinary offerings, had a green salad and a baked potato.

Other than my one indulgence -- I somehow managed to resist the ice cream at both Swensens and Haagan Daz -- we primarily ate the local fare, which is actually not that easy to find on Chaweng. Fortunately, a Dutch divemaster pointed us in the right direction: go down a dark alley, stoop under a house full of go-go girls, navigate some serious puddles, avoid the rabid dogs, and you'll find the local food market. Although we were a little suspicious that he and some club-wielding buddies might be waiting for us at the other end, we ended up at a great local market. With no other farangs (foreigners) in sight, we enjoyed a completely delicious meal of minced pork with garlic and chili over rice served with a tray of raw green beans, fresh herbs, sliced cucumber, and pickled veggies -- all for only 20 baht (about C$0.60) each.

Having found a small reprieve from the constant-dance-hit-playing-and-foreign-guys-with-local-girls-cliché hell in which we found ourselves, we knew we could survive the one day we had to wait before making our escape.

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Suan Mokkh - Logistics

Ask not for whom the bell tolls,
at 4:00am it tolled for me!
Daily Schedule
The schedule during the retreat was the same every day. Although we technically didn't have to attend all the sessions -- indeed, there were several people who seemed to be following their own schedule ( I think they had attended previous retreats) -- skipping sessions was frowned upon.

The day was broken up into four sections; these were divided by breakfast, lunch, and tea.

4:00am: We are woken by a very persistent bell toll-er. He started slowly, almost gently, but gradually picked up in both frequency and intensity.

4:30am to 5:15am: morning reading + sitting meditation
5:15am to 7:00am: yoga
7:00am to 8:00am: Dhamma talk + sitting meditation
8:00am: breakfast + chores

(We usually had about one hour after breakfast and chores -- between 9:00am and 10:00am -- for 'leisure' activities such as doing our laundry, washing up, etc.)

10:00am to 11:00am: Dhamma talk + sitting meditation
11:00am to 11:45am: walking or standing meditation
11:45am to 12:30pm: sitting meditation
12:30pm: lunch + chores

(Again, we usually had about one hour after lunch and chores -- between 1:30pm and 2:30pm -- for our own 'leisure' activities.)

2:30pm to 3:30pm: meditation instruction + sitting meditation
3:30pm to 4:15pm: walking or standing meditation
4:15pm to 5:00pm: sitting meditation
5:00pm to 6:00pm: chanting + loving kindness meditation
6:00pm: tea + hot springs

modelling the latest in monastic swimwear
(I started skipping tea in order to have the hot springs and the nearby shower to myself ... which meant I didn't have to use the communal tub and bathe wearing my sarong.)

7:30pm to 8:00pm: sitting meditation
8:00pm to 8:30pm: group walking meditation
8:30pm to 9:00pm: sitting meditation
9:00pm to 9:30pm: get ready for bed

9:30pm: lights out (literally ... the power went off)

An Index of Sorts
1. sitting meditation: literally meditating while sitting; usually in the 'lotus' (crossed legs) position, but the instructors weren't too fussy about body positioning; the type of meditation taught at the retreat is called anapanasati (mindfulness with breathing in and out)
2. Dhamma talk: instruction about Dhamma, a Buddhist concept regarding stress and sacrifice
3. chores: everyone signed up for a chore (e.g. cleaning toilets, sweeping the meditation hall, etc.) when they registered; I signed up for clearing food after meals (a very easy job) and Ulrik had to clear fallen palm leaves (a big more difficult)
4. standing meditation: meditating while standing; like sitting meditation, the object is to focus on the breathing
5. walking meditation: meditating while walking along a 'meditation path' (usually only about five metres in length); the idea is to meditate while being mindful of the movement of your body; therefore, you walk with slow and deliberate movements
6. meditation instruction: we were taught techniques on how to improve our meditation, such as overcoming the hindrances to meditation
7. chanting: we were taught the chants the monks usually use; while it was nice listening to our teacher-monk chant, I found chanting together to be a bit too cult-ish to feel comfortable joining in
8. loving kindness meditation: you concentrate on sending loving kindness to yourself, your family, your friends, your enemies, world leaders etc., etc., etc.; the idea, obviously, is to send positivity out into the world
9. group walking meditation: similar to individual walking meditation, but you can move a bit more quickly and you don't have to follow a short meditation path; this is something you could technically do anywhere and anytime

The Rules
- Keep complete silence throughout the 10 days.
- Refrain from destroying all forms of life. (This includes not killing mosquitoes which, as Suan Mokkh is surrounded by woods and freshwater ponds, was very challenging indeed!)
- Refrain from taking things without permission.
- Refrain from any sexual activity, mentally, verbally, or bodily.
- Refrain from smoking or intoxicating oneself with any intoxicant.
- Refrain from having dinner (last meal is lunch).
- Refrain from beautifying or entertaining oneself. ("Entertaining" oneself includes reading or writing in journals, both of which were forbidden.)
- Refrain from sleeping or sitting on luxurious beds or seats. (Hence the concrete bed and wooden pillow.)
source: SuanMokkh.org

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Suan Mokkh

Meditation Hall
Getting a bit tired of the backpacker trail, Ulrik and I were looking to do something that would be both different and personally challenging. By chance, we happened upon a small blurb in our guide book about a 10-day silent meditation retreat -- that's right, silent meditation -- that is held once a month at a monastery just outside Chaiya in Southern Thailand. We read about it just before we were to cross the Malaysia/Thailand border, and the next retreat was to start in three days ... talk about timing! And we were pretty much going to pass through Chaiya anyway as it is on Thailand's east coast on the way to Koh Tao, the island where we had lived for almost a year in 2000/2001 and where we had wanted to stop for a visit. It was almost like it was meant to be.

Although the timing and geography were perfect, however, we weren't entirely sure this 'different' was what we were looking for. Neither of us is particularly religious and neither of us has ever done any sort of meditation. And, some would say, neither of us is a particularly deep thinker! Unfortunately, I don't think we focused enough on the 'meditation' part of the retreat when considering whether or not to do it. Instead, we prepared ourselves for the other aspects of the retreat, specifically the basic living conditions and the continuous silence. And since we both agreed that we could handle the monastic lifestyle for 10 days, we decided to go for it.

Although the retreat technically starts on the 1st of the month, it actually starts the day before. The last day of the month is registration day. We read the paperwork, agreed to the rules, filled in the appropriate forms, attended an orientation session, got settled in our new digs, and listened to the welcome speech. At the end of the welcome speech, a bell was rung. The retreat, and the silence, had officially begun.

sitting meditation area
Lee's Impressions
I am sure most of you who read that Ulrik and I did a five-day retreat that required total silence will probably fall off your seats laughing. The idea that I, a renowned chatterbox, could keep silent for one day let alone five probably seems impossible to you. But when Ulrik and I were first considering the retreat, this was the one aspect that I really wasn't worried about. Yes, I talk a lot, and yes, I do tend to go on and on and on .... But I also like to be quiet. I enjoy silence. So I really didn't think that the 'silent' part of the retreat would be that difficult. For some reason, however, I didn't really consider the 'meditation' part of the retreat before the retreat began. Maybe because it was so obvious? But it very quickly became apparent that I am not a meditator.

When I was supposed to be meditating "on the breathing" (called anapanasati), I would focus on my breathing for one or two breaths, but would quickly become distracted. By the birds that would fly around meditation hall, by the breeze, by the clouds, by thoughts of things in the past, by thoughts of what I would do during our few breaks, etc., etc., etc. As you can see, I was focused on pretty much anything and everything other than my breathing. The only times I wasn't distracted by my external or internal surroundings were the times when I fell asleep. Yes, that's right ... the one thing I learned during the retreat was how to sleep sitting up on a hard little pillow. (It's actually quite easy; you bend your legs, wrap your arms around your calves, rest your head on your knees, and BOOM! it's beddy-bye time.) I never meant to fall asleep -- in fact, during a personal interview I asked how to prevent this -- but combine only six-and-a-half hours of sleep a night, bright sunshine and hot weather, and listening to Dhamma talks that are difficult to follow and delivered in a very metronomic cadence and most people will be sawing logs in no time.

Aside from the challenges of meditation, though, I really enjoyed my time at Suan Mokkh. The setting is really lovely, all greenery and ponds. The silence was, far from being a challenge, a really nice change. Since no one could talk, no one could gossip or say things in ways that could be interpreted negatively. Waking at 4:00am was not as much of a struggle as I had thought. In fact, my favourite time of the day was doing yoga as the sun rose. I slept remarkably well on the concrete bed and wooden pillow. And eating only twice a day was not a difficult adjustment at all; in fact, I was surprised to realize when I thought about it after the retreat was over that I didn't experience a single craving. Not once did I think about my morning coffee, potato chips, sweets, or even just wanting a dinner-time meal -- that was a surprise. So although I didn't catch on to the meditation and didn't even come close to achieving enlightenment I am really happy to have had this experience.

Yes, that's our 'mattress' and, yes,
that's a solid cement bed that it's laid on.
Ulrik's Impressions
Getting up at 4:00am? No problem, the temperature is so much more reasonable at that time of the day. Not being able to leave the premises during the retreat? No sweat, I don't know a soul in Chaiya anyway. Eat only twice a day? Great, after eating rather well in Singapore and Malaysia I can afford to lose a few pounds. Not talk for the duration of the retreat? Anyone who's ever traveled in Southeast Asia understands the value of silence. Sleep on a concrete bed with a wooden pillow? No worries; I've never really been a fan of overly soft beds and I quite enjoyed the back support. Very basic cell-like accommodations with shared mandi (a tub of cold water from which you scoop and pour over your head) for bathing? Can't be any worse than what we experienced in Indonesia.

The communal shower area ... and washing up area ... and laundry area ...
I didn't find it overly difficult to adjust to the lifestyle restrictions and 'sacrifices' at the monastery. It was kind of nice not having to worry about anything or having to make decisions more difficult than what to wear that day (which wasn't that difficult either as I mostly wore the standard 'uniform' of white cotton shirt and fisherman pants), After a couple of days, though, I started to get seriously bored. We spent most of the day meditating or listening to Dhamma talks (Buddhist teachings), and I never really got into either one. Although I like the idea of training the brain to be more focused, I just can't sit on my butt for such extended periods of time (we were sitting about eight hours a day). The talks themselves were frustrating because, with the exception of one farang (foreign) monk, it was very difficult to understand the speakers' English. And the parables they would use to to illustrate their points often made no sense to me. I think discussing the talks with the other participants would have helped but, of course, talking wasn't allowed.

Living in such close quarters, I found there were some pretty cool characters I would have liked to have gotten to know. There was the guy with dread locks and tribal tattoos all over his body; there was the guy who was planning on going to Burma to do a meditation retreat for six months (we spoke with him briefly on the drive to the retreat centre); and there was the guy who would practice some serious kung-fu moves with a broom stick every afternoon. Alas, I will never know more about them.

Our wooden pillow ... we slept surprisingly well on it!
By the end of the fourth day I had had all the Dhamma and meditating I could stomach. I felt it would be best to call it quits before I 'forgot' Buddha's first precept about not killing any living being. I slipped Lee a note in secret -- it was just like in high school! -- telling her that I was thinking of leaving the following morning. I wasn't sure what her thoughts were and where she was in all this meditating stuff, but it turned out that she was reaching the same point as me. Although she was prepared to leave early, she asked me to stay an extra day (day 5) in order to complete at least half the retreat. I agreed, and I spent the time packing and thinking about our return to the 'real' world. Even though I was ready to leave and even though it had only been five days, I also felt a bit anxious about being 'on the outside'. Is this -- on a much smaller scale, of course -- how people feel when they're about to be released from prison?

All in all, it was a good experience. All the staff were very nice, and although we had only two meals every day, they were pretty tasty. We even had hot chocolate at tea time. And as you can see from the pictures Lee took, the grounds were very picturesque and it was a nice place to meander around. Even though I didn't get the hang of meditation or gain any additional understanding about Buddhism, I might look at both again in the future. Perhaps I might even be up for another retreat?

One final thought: Prince Siddhartha (ca. 563 BC to 483 BC), who is considered to be the historical founder of Buddhism, had no less than 40,000 girl friends and three palaces, all of which he gave up to live an ascetic life and achieve Nirvana. He also had one wife, which might help explain his decision ....

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.

Better have your ticket ...

Crossing the Malaysia/Thailand border.
After leaving Taman Negara, we headed toward Thailand on the Jungle Railway. The Jungle Railway travels through the interior of Malaysia from Singapore to Wakaf Bharu, just south of the border with Thailand; we travelled only from Jerantut to Wakaf Bharu. The scenery was quite spectacular, but the train ride wasn't the most comfortable. Because it was a 'natural AC' car (i.e. windows down) exhaust from the engine got in and the soot adhered to the layer of travel sweat that our bodies always produces when we're on a train or bus; after a very short time we were hot, sweaty, and sooty. Eight hours later we were in Wakaf Bahru, and a short taxi ride after that we were in Kota Bahru, the last main town before the Thai border. After quickly finding a room, we headed to the local night market for some food. And what a night market it was! There were stalls selling a wide assortment of goodies from BBQ'd chicken on bamboo skewers to curries to roti (a kind of Malaysian pancake) to jellies and cakes. Surrounding the food stalls were tables and chairs, and surrounding those were stalls selling fresh fruit juices. Interestingly, the fruit stalls -- all 10 to 15 of them -- each had a television, and all but one were showing the same program.

The next day we took a public bus to the Malaysia/Thailand border. It was a very easy border crossing; we got our Malaysia exit stamp, crossed the bridge, and got our Thai entry stamp. A short walk later (about 1km) we were at the Sungai Kolok train station. We decided to cheap out and buy a third class ticket on a local train to Hat Yai; it cost only 42B (less than C$2)! But being a local train meant that it stopped at pretty much every station, which meant that it ended up taking us more than four hours to travel the fairly short distance between the two. But that was okay because we got to see an interesting side of Thailand that we hadn't seen before.

As some of you may know, there has been quite a lot of unrest in Thailand's southern provinces, the population of which is largely Moslem. There have been bombings, but the attacks have been primarily Thai on Thai; there have not yet been any attacks against foreigners. Although we didn't see anything overt to indicate this tension, each station we pulled into, even the smallest ones that were no more than a shed in a field, was surrounded by barbed wire and guarded by at least one soldier armed with an AK47. And on the train, the ticket collector was accompanied by two armed soldiers. You'd better have a ticket!

For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.