So, it’s been awhile, but I’m going to continue my stories on my sort-of recent trip to Phuket, the island paradise (and requisite beach stop of any tourist) in Thailand.
The second day in Phuket was my time to go and do one of these planned adventure trips. Basically, you go up to one of a bajillion tourist operators, who all have the same brochures (go swordfishing! Go white water rafting! Go to the Phuket Fantase show! etc. etc.). I purchased two, and the one I went on first was a trip to Phi Phi island (pronounced “pee-pee,” … yeah, I know) where I was to see many gorgeous mini islands and go snorkeling. They picked me up early the next morning, and in the van was another man who said hello to me. I noticed right away he seemed to have a Scandinavian or German accent, but would have to wait awhile before I found out for sure. The next stop let on a whole slew of crazy young Japanese men, probably around 18-22 years each. Though it was like 8 in the morning, I think they may have been drunk, or probably still hanging on their inebriation from the night before. They certainly found me interesting and tried to make awkward, loud, and “let me impress my buddies” conversation with me. It was partly funny and partly really fucking annoying considering how early it was.
Soon we were at the dock and were loaded onto a very large ship with dozens of other tourists. A long boat ride ensued, which was fantastic. Gorgeous blue water, and these strange “islands,” some like a real small island size, and others almost like giant pieces of rock jutting defiantly out of the ocean, covered in green vegetation. They were all different shapes and were just sitting there in the middle of the ocean, not in view of any mainland or large islands. Just there. We passed dozens of them and I never grew tired of the beautiful view. I had another good view too. The young man in the van had turned out to be a Norwegian (hooray! I love Scandinavian men), and was not only good-looking, but interesting, considerate, and funny. In fact, in a weird twist of fate, he kind of looked like the Nordic version of the ex-love-of-my-life, a New York Jewish guy (I know, but I swear, the connection was there!). They had similar faces, bodies, and smiles. Anyway, this guy was different enough for it not to be weird or make me think I was doing some strange subconscious replacement.
I couldn’t believe my luck. As I have mentioned more than once, living in Bangkok is a total disaster for a single, white female. One other remarked that “we white women” feel “invisible” since no white man wants to date us and the Thai men see us more like a trophy. I don’t know how much I agree with that, but I have never found living here even remotely easy in the romance department. Since Western men are basically sucked off the arriving planes and scuttled away by eager Thai women and Thai men, I’ve found, tend to be embarrassingly immature and difficult to communicate with, dating here is….complicated. I’ve had to placate myself with the occasional Western man (mistake), the occasional Thai man (disappointing), and the occasional ex-lover flying into town (fantastic, but fleeting).
Anyway, so here I am on this beautiful ocean, the air is very hot but the wind is strong and this guy is great! He keeps offering to buy me drinks (no, not get me drunk, Pepsis and water too), and has even mentioned that I’m lovely. *cheer* We are occasionally interrupted though by this gaggle of older Japanese women. About every 20 minutes, one confidently strides up to me and motions that she wants to take a photo with me. So there I am having my picture taken, flanked by these Japanese women in their sun hats and big sunglasses. They never ask the Norwegian guy, in fact, they purposefully push him aside. Do they think I’m a celebrity? I have lived in Thailand awhile and had a lot of interest in me for various reasons, but I have never had strangers walk up to me and demand a photo. It was all very strange and very amusing.
Anyway, the young man and I are talking for a couple hours and are sharing our lives. After mentioning this gay friend of mine, I must have given him the cue he needed, because he reveals that he too is gay, and has been in a relationship for like four years with some gorgeous Swedish man.
*SOB*
“Oh, the humanity!” [sic]
I felt like a big, shiny balloon slowly deflating. Of course, I couldn’t change my positive feelings toward him just because I wouldn’t be able to sleep with him now. I tried to be mature about the whole thing, and I was, but still. What a shitty deal. No wonder I have so many gay friends. I think I attract them with some secretion I must put out. I’m obviously not putting anything out to any heterosexuals here, ‘cause I’d sure put out if I could! I’m no slut, but I’m no nun either. Though if I don’t get out of here soon, I might as well be.
Nevertheless, the trip must go on, and since he and I were on different tours, we separated once we got to Phi Phi island. I was truly sad to see him go. And I went on to a lunch, some time on the island, and finally to another smaller boat to go out snorkeling. It was the first time in my life that I have successfully snorkeled (I have some difficulty snorkeling/scuba diving because of the breathing), and thank GOD it worked this time! It was absolutely amazing. There I was, floating at the top of the water, looking down at sea floor just 10-25 feet below. It was like pressing your face up to a page in a Jacques Cousteau book. It seemed so unreal to see things you’d see on a documentary or in a glossy coffee table book just suddenly there in front of you. Sea urchins, coral, various brightly colored fish, and even some sort of snake at one time….which led to an slightly embarrassing moment.
After seeing the snake, and not knowing if that was a GOOD thing, I quickly turned around and quickly pumped my finned-feet back to the boat. As I got closer, I shouted up to the guy, “There was a snake, a snake. Is that dangerous?” I said it all in Thai, but “snake” was said in English (they know it by the English name as well). A Russian man swimming nearby heard me, but somehow heard, “shark” instead of “snake” and began to totally panic. Without fins, he frantically swam back to the ship, terrified. He finally was set straight and relaxed a bit. The Thais, in their typical way, told me, “Oh yeah, they’re dangerous. Just try to stay away from them.”
Oh, okay.
It was fantastic anyway, and after a long day, I returned home. Horribly sunburnt, but happy. More on the sunburn later. *shudder*
Monday, May 12, 2003
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Salsa, Frida, and Book Reviews
So, I had this kind of embarrassing experience. I've joined this gym to get my fat ass motivated and moving (the astounding price I paid for the first three months is enough to get me to go anyway). They have a wide assortment of aerobics classes every day from dawn to well past dusk. I noticed a "Latin" one listed and was pretty excited, since I love Latin music and dancing. It took me a couple weeks to work up the nerve to join though. Not only was it listed as an intermediate level, but it was late at night. So, one night I worked out hard in my t-shirt, umbro shorts, and cross-trainers. I did all the required running and sweating, as well as some weight training. Sweaty and ready for an aerobics workout, I walked up to the room. Outside I saw a small Thai woman dressed very stylishly in a swirly mini skirt, sexy orange shirt with a little orange scarf tied around her throat, and some flashy high heels. Truly in my mind though I was rolling my eyes, "Why do people come to the gym dressed like this???" I walked into the workout room and saw that everyone was wearing skirts and high heels. ???
Turns out that it was a Latin DANCE class (Salsa, to be exact). I was both thrilled and appalled. Also turns out the cute little orange woman was the instructor! (okay, the clothes are therefore approved). There I was in my mammoth shoes (I'm already large by Thai standards), with an impressive sweat ring circling my neck and down my back. Everyone else was fresh as a daisy and seemed to know what the hell they were doing. No one was really volunteering to dance with me. Nonetheless, I gave it a try, and besides standing around alone most of the time and feeling like an idiot (there are never enough men to go around at these things and I can't ask some guy to pay a load to join the gym for this), I had a pretty good time. In fact, I went again, wearing my heels and smelling April spring fresh. This time they said I was a good dancer, which was a total lie, but I am much better! Hooray! Here's to tackling your fears, even if you think you look like an ass. Now I can salsa! Kind of!
**********
Just saw the movie, Frida here. I admit knowing nothing about this woman before the film (besides the few things you heard about her body, her husband, and her sexuality, sadly, less about her art), but after this movie, I sure would like to learn more. Wonderful film; best I've seen in awhile. It's rare that I'll hate a film, but it's rare I'll love one too. Also, the soundtrack is fucking fantastic, so run out and buy it. Chavela Vargas' (herself a past lover of Frida),"Paloma Negra" (an old recording) is fantastic, as well as her live performance in the film itself, La Llorona many years later.
Quickie Book Reviews
The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - A
Sure....it's outdated, and features wisps of racism (Africans called "savages"), sexism (all the women are beautiful, helpless, and long-suffering, or ugly and evil), and some interesting drug use (Holmes' interest in cocaine, for example), but you cannot beat these stories. My ear-flap hunting cat's off to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's arrogant, asexual hero and his helpful, also long-suffering sidekick, Dr. Watson. Bonus: This book contained actual reprints of the stories as they appeared in The Strand magazine nearly a hundred years ago, complete with the original delightful illustrations. It'll take you about a century to read this (it makes "bible print" look magnified), but it's well worth it.
Immortality by Milan Kundera B+
Okay, he's one of my favorite authors, though kind of confusing or annoying. And though he claims he doesn't write philosophy, he's not fooling me. This novel deals (mainly) with the analysis of what it is like to return to your home country after many years away as a "refugee." And in his usual style, he takes out long passages to focus and deeply analyze single words and how that one word is interpreted by different kinds of individuals. I really liked it; he always makes me think and he must have about 12 good quotable quotes in each novel, this one no exception. I will be giving it to a friend as a gift, but if you're not as epileptic reader as I, I recommend you read the fantastic, The Unbearable Lightness of Being instead.
Turns out that it was a Latin DANCE class (Salsa, to be exact). I was both thrilled and appalled. Also turns out the cute little orange woman was the instructor! (okay, the clothes are therefore approved). There I was in my mammoth shoes (I'm already large by Thai standards), with an impressive sweat ring circling my neck and down my back. Everyone else was fresh as a daisy and seemed to know what the hell they were doing. No one was really volunteering to dance with me. Nonetheless, I gave it a try, and besides standing around alone most of the time and feeling like an idiot (there are never enough men to go around at these things and I can't ask some guy to pay a load to join the gym for this), I had a pretty good time. In fact, I went again, wearing my heels and smelling April spring fresh. This time they said I was a good dancer, which was a total lie, but I am much better! Hooray! Here's to tackling your fears, even if you think you look like an ass. Now I can salsa! Kind of!
**********
Just saw the movie, Frida here. I admit knowing nothing about this woman before the film (besides the few things you heard about her body, her husband, and her sexuality, sadly, less about her art), but after this movie, I sure would like to learn more. Wonderful film; best I've seen in awhile. It's rare that I'll hate a film, but it's rare I'll love one too. Also, the soundtrack is fucking fantastic, so run out and buy it. Chavela Vargas' (herself a past lover of Frida),"Paloma Negra" (an old recording) is fantastic, as well as her live performance in the film itself, La Llorona many years later.
Quickie Book Reviews
The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - A
Sure....it's outdated, and features wisps of racism (Africans called "savages"), sexism (all the women are beautiful, helpless, and long-suffering, or ugly and evil), and some interesting drug use (Holmes' interest in cocaine, for example), but you cannot beat these stories. My ear-flap hunting cat's off to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's arrogant, asexual hero and his helpful, also long-suffering sidekick, Dr. Watson. Bonus: This book contained actual reprints of the stories as they appeared in The Strand magazine nearly a hundred years ago, complete with the original delightful illustrations. It'll take you about a century to read this (it makes "bible print" look magnified), but it's well worth it.
Immortality by Milan Kundera B+
Okay, he's one of my favorite authors, though kind of confusing or annoying. And though he claims he doesn't write philosophy, he's not fooling me. This novel deals (mainly) with the analysis of what it is like to return to your home country after many years away as a "refugee." And in his usual style, he takes out long passages to focus and deeply analyze single words and how that one word is interpreted by different kinds of individuals. I really liked it; he always makes me think and he must have about 12 good quotable quotes in each novel, this one no exception. I will be giving it to a friend as a gift, but if you're not as epileptic reader as I, I recommend you read the fantastic, The Unbearable Lightness of Being instead.
Monday, April 14, 2003
Quickie Book Reviews
The Sex Killers: Thirty Fully Documented Cases of Men and Women Whose Aberrant Sexuality Drove Them to Kill (Lucas) C-
I'd be lying if I said true murder cases don't interest me. I used to watch the tv show Unsolved Mysteries religiously and did read In Cold Blood and Dead Men Do Tell Tales (fascinating books, though a bit tedious). Though it presents a wide variety of macabre and interesting cases throughout the 20th century, I found myself perplexed and confused by the writing of The Sex Killers. It seemed archaic, prejudiced, and unprofessional, particularly toward homosexuals. I looked for a copyright page and found none. (??). After a quick search on Amazon, I found it as an out-of-print book, with suspiciously little information, including no copyright. Titilating cases, but terrible writing.
The Lovely Bones (Sebold) A-
Well, Kundera complained that there was no re-invention of the novel going on, but Sebold here sure made an attempt. I don't think she did anything revolutionary, but she did come up with an intriguing plot -- a young girl is murdered and transported to heaven where she narrates her tale. That's where the book could have taken off into Kundera's hopes and dreams, but Sebold had a different idea. Instead, she focused on what the death of a child does to a family -- each individual and all the interconnecting relationships within and without the family unit. And not just for a few months, but for several years. How does death rip apart two people, how does it make someone flee and someone else fight? As all this is going on, the suspense of catching the killer is always looming large in the background, sometimes rather distractingly, as you fly through the book. Well-written and enjoyable.
A Walk to Remember (Sparks) B-
Okay, I know this guy has had two books made into movies, but umm, I don't get it. I read this book in just a few hours. It was sweet and occasionally humorous, (a story about a painfully religious girl and self-absorbed rich boy falling in love), but overall, it felt like one step up from a Sweet Valley High or Harlequin Romance to me. Not to mention a fairly predictable and sickly-sweet ending. I gave it a B- for its ease and speed (I do believe how enjoyable a book is should not take away from its legitimacy), but I can't really recommend it as a great read.
I'd be lying if I said true murder cases don't interest me. I used to watch the tv show Unsolved Mysteries religiously and did read In Cold Blood and Dead Men Do Tell Tales (fascinating books, though a bit tedious). Though it presents a wide variety of macabre and interesting cases throughout the 20th century, I found myself perplexed and confused by the writing of The Sex Killers. It seemed archaic, prejudiced, and unprofessional, particularly toward homosexuals. I looked for a copyright page and found none. (??). After a quick search on Amazon, I found it as an out-of-print book, with suspiciously little information, including no copyright. Titilating cases, but terrible writing.
The Lovely Bones (Sebold) A-
Well, Kundera complained that there was no re-invention of the novel going on, but Sebold here sure made an attempt. I don't think she did anything revolutionary, but she did come up with an intriguing plot -- a young girl is murdered and transported to heaven where she narrates her tale. That's where the book could have taken off into Kundera's hopes and dreams, but Sebold had a different idea. Instead, she focused on what the death of a child does to a family -- each individual and all the interconnecting relationships within and without the family unit. And not just for a few months, but for several years. How does death rip apart two people, how does it make someone flee and someone else fight? As all this is going on, the suspense of catching the killer is always looming large in the background, sometimes rather distractingly, as you fly through the book. Well-written and enjoyable.
A Walk to Remember (Sparks) B-
Okay, I know this guy has had two books made into movies, but umm, I don't get it. I read this book in just a few hours. It was sweet and occasionally humorous, (a story about a painfully religious girl and self-absorbed rich boy falling in love), but overall, it felt like one step up from a Sweet Valley High or Harlequin Romance to me. Not to mention a fairly predictable and sickly-sweet ending. I gave it a B- for its ease and speed (I do believe how enjoyable a book is should not take away from its legitimacy), but I can't really recommend it as a great read.
I had CNN news on just now, which should be renamed to AWAT - "ALL WAR ALL THE TIME (WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE?). It reminds me of how we used to call the History Channel, "All Nazis All the Time." It was more funny then. Now, it's kind of weird. I guess Americans do love their wars.
What really freaked me out and caused me to write at a moment when I was going to run off to take a shower instead, was CNN showed Bush, giving one of his usual stuttering, spluttering speeches on America. And basically, I listened as he hinted that after we take care of this Iraq thing, that Syria is next! This because he knows that Syria has "chemical weapons" in their country and just "might" be making conditions to accept Saddam's cronies "if" they should cross the border.
*SCREEEEAAAAAAMM*
Syria is next? What the hell is going on? Is the entire world just a Risk(tm) game board to Bush? A woman on TV hinted that since it looks like the US won't be finding any "weapons of mass destruction" and they can just claim that they've all be scuttled off to Syria all along.
*gulp*
I have to admit that Bush scares me very much. I don't think he's maniacal, but I do find most of what he does shocking, unbelievable, and frightening. Clinton was President for eight years and never found the pressing need to go after Iraq RIGHT NOW! Like I've mentioned before, I've spent years listening to Europeans say how stupid and arrogant Americans are. I've always been so annoyed by that and defended Clinton as best I could. But now, now I feel I'm without a defense. I do love my country, but I cannot defend the actions of my government. That feels awful. .
What really freaked me out and caused me to write at a moment when I was going to run off to take a shower instead, was CNN showed Bush, giving one of his usual stuttering, spluttering speeches on America. And basically, I listened as he hinted that after we take care of this Iraq thing, that Syria is next! This because he knows that Syria has "chemical weapons" in their country and just "might" be making conditions to accept Saddam's cronies "if" they should cross the border.
*SCREEEEAAAAAAMM*
Syria is next? What the hell is going on? Is the entire world just a Risk(tm) game board to Bush? A woman on TV hinted that since it looks like the US won't be finding any "weapons of mass destruction" and they can just claim that they've all be scuttled off to Syria all along.
*gulp*
I have to admit that Bush scares me very much. I don't think he's maniacal, but I do find most of what he does shocking, unbelievable, and frightening. Clinton was President for eight years and never found the pressing need to go after Iraq RIGHT NOW! Like I've mentioned before, I've spent years listening to Europeans say how stupid and arrogant Americans are. I've always been so annoyed by that and defended Clinton as best I could. But now, now I feel I'm without a defense. I do love my country, but I cannot defend the actions of my government. That feels awful. .
Sunday, March 30, 2003
Quickie Book Review: The Art of the Novel by Milan Kundera -- B+
The always fascinating and always verbose Milan Kundera, one of my very favorite authors of all time, but also one who can be awfully confusing. I don't know if the man is a total, cool, out of this world genius, or an incredibly arrogant man just trying to be. I guess my not being able to figure out either one doesn't make me much of an Einstein either. This book discusses, in the form of essays, interviews, and speeches, the "death of the novel" meaning, the death of any kind of real innovation in the way it is written. Examples such as Cervantes, Fielding, Kafka, and Flaubert are all offered, as well as some lesser-known ones, like Broch, as past examples of breakthroughs in the evolution of the novel. Kundera fears that the evolution has come to a grinding halt, perhaps forevermore. There was one personal piece of humor in this for me. It has been a rare event that I have never finished a book, even if it was boring, predictable, or rambling. I can name three books I failed to finish: Don Quixote by Cervantes, Tom Jones by Fielding, and The Metamorphosis and Other Stories by Kafka, though I ardently claim that I am "still reading" Kafka. I did read the title story. It freaked me out. Anyway, this is recommended for people into Kundera, into philosophy, into the art of writing, or all of the above. I liked it.
Saturday, March 29, 2003
War, What is it Good For?
I hate this war, I hate this war, I hate this war. Was this REALLY necessary? REALLY? Would Dubya place his God-fearing left hand on a stack of Bible's, raise his right hand and claim that our Lord could strike him down where he stood if he is lying (a favorite expression of my grandparents)??? Could he do it with a straight face? I have watched televised tomes of this war, despite the fact that it's only been a week. It's like watching Monday Night Football in the U.S. All the flash, graphics, and enthusiasm, yes, ENTHUSIASM for this. Though some of the enthusiasm seems to have waned since a higher majority of troops seem to be dying in "friendly fire" (hahahah what a ridiculous term!), then by Iraqi soldiers. And Dubya and that scary Rumsfeld seem indignant that the entire country didn't fall like a house of cards and the Iraqis didn't fall to their knees in adulation. Put it this way... I am no great fan of George W. Bush. I didn't vote for him, and I think he's been a fantastically flawed President (to put it diplomatically). If he was gone tomorrow, I might just throw a party here, complete with cake and confetti. And yet, I wouldn't want a massive, highly-technological force of Mongolian soldiers marching into Washington D.C., intent on murdering him and "freeing" me.
WHY WHY WHY didn't we just assassinate Hussein?? Was this SO damn impossible to do? If we hate him so much and want his "regime" to end, couldn't we have sent in some specialized spy to stab him, poison him, blow him up? Is this that naive of me to believe? Must we sacrifice probably thousands of people (on both sides), to get one man (and his sprawling family)? Are we really going to unearth the mother load of mass destruction? Is crippling the UN worth it? I volunteer as assassin. Can I get away with wearing a burka in Bagdhad? That might get me through. I could strap some explosives to my body and play the great martyr. Better me than thousands of others. Isn't that the point? No civilian casualties?
WHY WHY WHY didn't we just assassinate Hussein?? Was this SO damn impossible to do? If we hate him so much and want his "regime" to end, couldn't we have sent in some specialized spy to stab him, poison him, blow him up? Is this that naive of me to believe? Must we sacrifice probably thousands of people (on both sides), to get one man (and his sprawling family)? Are we really going to unearth the mother load of mass destruction? Is crippling the UN worth it? I volunteer as assassin. Can I get away with wearing a burka in Bagdhad? That might get me through. I could strap some explosives to my body and play the great martyr. Better me than thousands of others. Isn't that the point? No civilian casualties?
DOGS IN THE SOI, II
I saw something horrible and strangely touching tonight. If you have ever been to Bangkok, you’ve seen the stray dogs. Although some may disagree, I think it’s one of the biggest, most disgusting problems of Bangkok.
When you first arrive in Bangkok, if you are even the tiniest bit the animal lover, you are appalled and disgusted with blanketing of stray dogs throughout the streets of the city. I can’t even imagine what would happen to one of those PETA people. They must go totally out of their mind, start convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Kind of apt, actually, since a high percentage of these “street dogs” have rabies. I’ve only seen one myself, though apparently you can’t “see” it. The stereotypical foaming at the mouth dog (that I saw so many times in my children’s book on Louis Pasteur as a child), is rather rare.
But, I always did consider myself a lover of animals. It used to be almost more than I could humanely bear as a child to be told again and again “No” to my request for a dog or cat. Almost the moment I could have a pet, I did (the day after I moved into an apartment that could have one – only cats). I still have one of the two kittens I got from the humane society that day. A now, nine year old female cat named after a Milan Kundera character.
Here in Thailand, it is always unbearable at times. Puppies abound, frolicking through the crowded streets, facing speeding cars, indifferent motorcycles, annoyed people, other aggressive dogs, fleas, ticks, rabies, and some other diseases that were totally unknown to me before I arrived here (seeing a dog who has totally lost all of his fur is a pretty dreadful thing). If the dog’s lucky, it will make it a few years without a broken leg, torn-off ear, gauged-out eye, etc. Furthermore, the life of a dog is the canine version of Lord of the Flies. You know that rare occasion when you are in the presence of two dogs fighting? The wild growling and flying fur? It’s quite frightening?
MUAHAHAHA what a joke! That sound is so damn common here, I have literally tuned it out of my hearing capabilities. I have heard what I thought were human screams, and rushed outside only to find street dogs going through their thrice-daily fight for territorial domination. Each pack of dogs owns a very small strip of the street. Anywhere from about 10-200 feet. Several times a day a dog from the adjacent “territory” will wander in (usually purposefully) and a ferocious fight will ensue. The screams, growls, and yelps are surprisingly dramatic and loud. Torn body parts and bloody wounds are often the result.
Yet, a dog here will almost never face starvation. The Thais take “animal loving” to a different plane than that in the U.S. Here, as Buddhists, Thais believe in taking care of living things, of not killing any creature. This means, after every Thai family finishes dinner, they usually dutifully wrap up their rice and spare meat, and place it in front of a group of thankful stray dogs, who wolf it down quickly. The dog may be limping, bleeding, have half its hair gone, but it won’t miss dinner! In fact, the school I work at takes 1-2 enormous plastic garbage pails (the kind you have in your garage or fill up with raked leaves) full of the food children scrape off their trays at lunch, and dump it in a nearby vacation where a large family of dogs feasts. It’s no wonder these dogs multiply like…rabbits.
Sure, most people can see the irony there. Is it better to let stray dogs on the street continue to breed, go through their Lord of the Flies lifestyle, itch, scratch, whimper, etc.? Or is it better to “save” them from such a life (and clear the damn street as well!) by euthanisizing them and creating some damn dog shelters to take care of those who might be adopted? Of course, if I had it my way, it’d be the latter, but that’s because that’s how it’s done in my country. Also, I can’t stand to see these dogs suffer so badly just so they can “live.” Just recently I gave my neighbors (who have, at last count, have 9 dogs) a flea & tic spray since their dogs began to lose their hair.
Well, what I’m getting at is a bit different. That was a big introduction, because I guess it still really bothers me. Plus, I see all these puppies who are so damn cute and sweet grow up to be wild dogs, prowling the street like the Crypts and the Bloods, with an even shorter life expectancy. I want to take them so bad (even the cats, though they have it slightly better), but having no yard, and already two cats inside the house, I can’t. I did get two kittens once and took them home. Two weeks later they were both dead, despite the fact that one was rushed to the hospital and put on oxygen. The vet informed me that they took a sample of 10 stray cats off the street, and 7 out of 10 of them had feline leukemia. The two kittens I took home almost killed my current cat. Though the kittens died, she lived, because she was a healthy adult cat, but she did spend a scary four days in the hospital.
Okay, back to my story (2 pages later). I was in my home tonight, my home with few windows, but two thin front door right on the street. The dogs in my “territory” are very familiar with me and I love them dearly. As I was typing an email for work, I heard a dog yelp. This in itself, like I mentioned, is not rare, but this time…it was different. Sometimes, you just know.
I scrambled to put some pants on, and ran outside. It was dark, but I could still see a dog, one of the puppies, laying on the ground, writhing around wildly and screaming in pain. Ambling slowly away was one of those worker trucks, used to carry low-income workers from job to job. The obvious culprit.
The mother dog, was standing over the little girl puppy. As each of the other street dogs approached, curious or with evil intentions, I do now know. She growled viciously at them, attacking them repeatedly, to keep them away from her baby. I approached slowly, and watched as she cried and cried, desperately licking away all the blood that was pouring out of the puppy’s mouth, as if to stop it. The puppy continued crying and gyrating for another minute before it was still. The mother dog turned to me, knowing I would not hurt her or her baby, and I whispered, “Oh, mama dog.” (That’s my name for her). She turned and took a couple steps up to me, crying and crying, just like any other mother. I stroked her head again and again and told her I was so sorry. She turned back to the baby and continued licking it until the blood stopped flowing from its mouth. Then she went on to try and lap up every drop of blood that surrounded the puppy, splatters from the crushing tires. She couldn’t seem to stop. She seemed to want to resurrect her baby. Who can blame her?
I then marched toward the truck, which had headed toward the river (not far from my place). I found it some distance off, the driver parking it at the end of a long gravel driveway. My hands were on my hips. I was fuming. He yelled out, “What?” in Thai. I didn’t know how to communicate this. I slammed my hands together to try and symbolize his crushing the puppy. I yelled out in Thai, “The puppy! You did it! Your car! It’s dead!” He knew he had hit it (and had not stopped). He yelled out, with little concern, “I didn’t see it!” I stomped off. Hardly much in terms of seeking retribution, but there really isn’t much I can do. The smallest consolation in me is that he knew I was furious at him. I hope I “ripped his face open” (one of the absolute worse things that can happen to a Thai), at least a little bit. In the end, it’s a street dog, no one will really care. They might give an “awww,” but that’s it. This also at some point gets to one of the things I’ve experienced about Thai culture which has really really really bothered me. This lack of taking responsibility for ANYTHING. The fact that the guy said “I didn’t see it,” and therefore in a sense, admitting it, was surprising to me, despite his indifference. So many times, I have watched as people here flat out deny doing something wrong, even if the action was witnessed (sometimes, right in front of me). This is natural in children, but it is one of my greatest pet peeves in my life regarding all human beings (adults) – not taking responsibility for when you cause harm, pain, annoyance, etc.
In the end though, I walk away from this with some warmth inside. Seeing that mother dog try to simultaneously protect and revive her baby was more touching that I can convey. She was able to communicate everything – her desperation, her fear, her grief. I think I saw more humanity tonight in a dog than I have seen in some human beings in my current life. That, is so sad.
When you first arrive in Bangkok, if you are even the tiniest bit the animal lover, you are appalled and disgusted with blanketing of stray dogs throughout the streets of the city. I can’t even imagine what would happen to one of those PETA people. They must go totally out of their mind, start convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Kind of apt, actually, since a high percentage of these “street dogs” have rabies. I’ve only seen one myself, though apparently you can’t “see” it. The stereotypical foaming at the mouth dog (that I saw so many times in my children’s book on Louis Pasteur as a child), is rather rare.
But, I always did consider myself a lover of animals. It used to be almost more than I could humanely bear as a child to be told again and again “No” to my request for a dog or cat. Almost the moment I could have a pet, I did (the day after I moved into an apartment that could have one – only cats). I still have one of the two kittens I got from the humane society that day. A now, nine year old female cat named after a Milan Kundera character.
Here in Thailand, it is always unbearable at times. Puppies abound, frolicking through the crowded streets, facing speeding cars, indifferent motorcycles, annoyed people, other aggressive dogs, fleas, ticks, rabies, and some other diseases that were totally unknown to me before I arrived here (seeing a dog who has totally lost all of his fur is a pretty dreadful thing). If the dog’s lucky, it will make it a few years without a broken leg, torn-off ear, gauged-out eye, etc. Furthermore, the life of a dog is the canine version of Lord of the Flies. You know that rare occasion when you are in the presence of two dogs fighting? The wild growling and flying fur? It’s quite frightening?
MUAHAHAHA what a joke! That sound is so damn common here, I have literally tuned it out of my hearing capabilities. I have heard what I thought were human screams, and rushed outside only to find street dogs going through their thrice-daily fight for territorial domination. Each pack of dogs owns a very small strip of the street. Anywhere from about 10-200 feet. Several times a day a dog from the adjacent “territory” will wander in (usually purposefully) and a ferocious fight will ensue. The screams, growls, and yelps are surprisingly dramatic and loud. Torn body parts and bloody wounds are often the result.
Yet, a dog here will almost never face starvation. The Thais take “animal loving” to a different plane than that in the U.S. Here, as Buddhists, Thais believe in taking care of living things, of not killing any creature. This means, after every Thai family finishes dinner, they usually dutifully wrap up their rice and spare meat, and place it in front of a group of thankful stray dogs, who wolf it down quickly. The dog may be limping, bleeding, have half its hair gone, but it won’t miss dinner! In fact, the school I work at takes 1-2 enormous plastic garbage pails (the kind you have in your garage or fill up with raked leaves) full of the food children scrape off their trays at lunch, and dump it in a nearby vacation where a large family of dogs feasts. It’s no wonder these dogs multiply like…rabbits.
Sure, most people can see the irony there. Is it better to let stray dogs on the street continue to breed, go through their Lord of the Flies lifestyle, itch, scratch, whimper, etc.? Or is it better to “save” them from such a life (and clear the damn street as well!) by euthanisizing them and creating some damn dog shelters to take care of those who might be adopted? Of course, if I had it my way, it’d be the latter, but that’s because that’s how it’s done in my country. Also, I can’t stand to see these dogs suffer so badly just so they can “live.” Just recently I gave my neighbors (who have, at last count, have 9 dogs) a flea & tic spray since their dogs began to lose their hair.
Well, what I’m getting at is a bit different. That was a big introduction, because I guess it still really bothers me. Plus, I see all these puppies who are so damn cute and sweet grow up to be wild dogs, prowling the street like the Crypts and the Bloods, with an even shorter life expectancy. I want to take them so bad (even the cats, though they have it slightly better), but having no yard, and already two cats inside the house, I can’t. I did get two kittens once and took them home. Two weeks later they were both dead, despite the fact that one was rushed to the hospital and put on oxygen. The vet informed me that they took a sample of 10 stray cats off the street, and 7 out of 10 of them had feline leukemia. The two kittens I took home almost killed my current cat. Though the kittens died, she lived, because she was a healthy adult cat, but she did spend a scary four days in the hospital.
Okay, back to my story (2 pages later). I was in my home tonight, my home with few windows, but two thin front door right on the street. The dogs in my “territory” are very familiar with me and I love them dearly. As I was typing an email for work, I heard a dog yelp. This in itself, like I mentioned, is not rare, but this time…it was different. Sometimes, you just know.
I scrambled to put some pants on, and ran outside. It was dark, but I could still see a dog, one of the puppies, laying on the ground, writhing around wildly and screaming in pain. Ambling slowly away was one of those worker trucks, used to carry low-income workers from job to job. The obvious culprit.
The mother dog, was standing over the little girl puppy. As each of the other street dogs approached, curious or with evil intentions, I do now know. She growled viciously at them, attacking them repeatedly, to keep them away from her baby. I approached slowly, and watched as she cried and cried, desperately licking away all the blood that was pouring out of the puppy’s mouth, as if to stop it. The puppy continued crying and gyrating for another minute before it was still. The mother dog turned to me, knowing I would not hurt her or her baby, and I whispered, “Oh, mama dog.” (That’s my name for her). She turned and took a couple steps up to me, crying and crying, just like any other mother. I stroked her head again and again and told her I was so sorry. She turned back to the baby and continued licking it until the blood stopped flowing from its mouth. Then she went on to try and lap up every drop of blood that surrounded the puppy, splatters from the crushing tires. She couldn’t seem to stop. She seemed to want to resurrect her baby. Who can blame her?
I then marched toward the truck, which had headed toward the river (not far from my place). I found it some distance off, the driver parking it at the end of a long gravel driveway. My hands were on my hips. I was fuming. He yelled out, “What?” in Thai. I didn’t know how to communicate this. I slammed my hands together to try and symbolize his crushing the puppy. I yelled out in Thai, “The puppy! You did it! Your car! It’s dead!” He knew he had hit it (and had not stopped). He yelled out, with little concern, “I didn’t see it!” I stomped off. Hardly much in terms of seeking retribution, but there really isn’t much I can do. The smallest consolation in me is that he knew I was furious at him. I hope I “ripped his face open” (one of the absolute worse things that can happen to a Thai), at least a little bit. In the end, it’s a street dog, no one will really care. They might give an “awww,” but that’s it. This also at some point gets to one of the things I’ve experienced about Thai culture which has really really really bothered me. This lack of taking responsibility for ANYTHING. The fact that the guy said “I didn’t see it,” and therefore in a sense, admitting it, was surprising to me, despite his indifference. So many times, I have watched as people here flat out deny doing something wrong, even if the action was witnessed (sometimes, right in front of me). This is natural in children, but it is one of my greatest pet peeves in my life regarding all human beings (adults) – not taking responsibility for when you cause harm, pain, annoyance, etc.
In the end though, I walk away from this with some warmth inside. Seeing that mother dog try to simultaneously protect and revive her baby was more touching that I can convey. She was able to communicate everything – her desperation, her fear, her grief. I think I saw more humanity tonight in a dog than I have seen in some human beings in my current life. That, is so sad.
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