Joe saw his shoulder surgeon yesterday at five. Dr. Somsak was satisfied with the outcome of the surgery and Joe's progress in the nearly two weeks since the operation. Joe has been frustrated that he has not been able to raise his left arm much higher than before the surgery. But the doctor explained that the first operation had to balance stability (securing the arm in the socket) against range of motion. Joe's range of motion should improve once atrophied muscles are strengthened through exercise. So Joe is hopeful. Although his ability to raise his arm will come back, lateral motion with that arm will always be limited. That's because both the cartilage and bone had been so badly damaged by repeated dislocations in the years before last year's surgery in Bangkok, and there was only so much Dr. Somsak and his team could do to salvage the situation. Most importantly, though, Joe is no longer in pain. And soon he'll be able to do the frug, if not the funky chicken.
We're in Bangkok and head back to Hua Hin later today. It really is a lovely seaside spot, and it's no wonder the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) chose to have its annual summit there this weekend. The heads of state are in the posh hotels north of Hua Hin near Cha-Am and in King Bhumibole's summer palace, and we're in humbler quarters near Monkey Mountain south of town. The Bangkok Post reports that the leaders haven't done much beyond wring their hands over the disastrous world economy. (Two thirds of Thailand's GNP is in exports---rice, other food, cars---and Thailand's exports are down 37 percent from this time last year.) The ministers seemed to think not much can be done until the U.S. gets its banks functioning again. Last year's ASEAN summit produced a human rights accord for the region, but apparently that was an empty exercise. This weekend, when human rights groups asked to present reports and petitions on conditions in Burma and Cambodia, representatives of those countries protested any recognition of the HR riff-raff and they were told to take a hike.
Cultural footnote: We've had a query about the recent blog photo of the Lingam Shrine at Nai Lert Park in Bangkok. The query was along the lines of, What on earth was THAT? Spirits in a banyan tree in the park came somehow to be regarded as aids to fertility. The tree was wrapped and decorated, offerings were left, and the result was heightened fertility. Thais have long used sculptural likenesses of the phallus as good luck charms. The fertility and lucky phallus ideas merged at some point in Nai Lert Park, and soon the place was replete with stone and wood phalli of various shapes and sizes. Nai Lert was a wealthy Thai who donated the land for the park. I think of it, though, as Mae West park, after her great line to her boyfriend, "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Unusual or usual Bangkok
After searching and searching we have finally found a decorating resource that will meet all our needs. (I had to sneak this photo)
One of my favorite street foods: electric wires with fish sauce
A 5 or 6 foot monitor lizard in Lumpini Park
Lingam Shrine at Nai Lert Park
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Jomtien Beach
Dick's alarm clock was eager to go to the beach
Our hotel room in Jomtien was lavishly decorated with these lovely colorful artifacts
Sunbathers at our hotel
One of several signs outside the elevators in the hotel
Though disappointed to be leaving the beach, Dick's alarm clock was cheered up by the notion of participating at the ASEAN Summit in Hua Hin
A Valentine postcard
Not all putti are created equal
The roses arrive
Our, as always, tasteful valentine cake
We don't buy all the schlock
HMMMM?
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Hello we must be going
We lasted two nights at Jomtien Beach. Now we're back in Hua Hin on the eastern shore of the Gulf of Thailand. We like it here.
We thought Jomtien would be a pleasant seaside spot for Joe to relax and exercise his arm and for me to get going on a new book. Although the place was a little less racy and chaotic than central Pattaya, just to the north, Jomtien was no place to kick back, it turned out. It combined too many of the worst features---and far too few of the best features---of Las Vegas, Sodom, Phnom Penh and Trenton.
Also, our $50 hotel---big bucks for us---was crummy. On its Web site the Jomtien Thani resembled one of those postcards of Miami Beach in 1948. Close up, the swimming pool water looked like Bald Eagle Creek in 1948, just downstream from the Lock Haven, PA papermill. And our room could have been the Tijuana motel room where Janet Leigh was held captive by a Mexican drug gang in Touch of Evil.
We did, however, have a pleasant visit with Barbara Wheaton's old foodie pal Fritz Blanc and his partner, retired Philadelphia lawyer Len Bucki. They have found more serene Jomtien precincts to live in, and we enjoyed hearing about their life in Thailand and their take on Thai politics---rotten to the core---and their exuberant social lives.
On the other side of the Gulf---and gulf---our friend Poe found us a small, quiet place called the Seahorse Resort, not far from where Simon and Poe live in Hua Hin. Only eight of the hotel's 29 rooms are occupied. December's political turmoil in Bangkok has combined with the world economic crisis to devastate Thai tourism. So we got a bargain rate at this bright blue and white, nicely designed arrangement of terraced rooms all overlooking palm and frangipani trees and a big sparkling turquoise pool. Lovely.
We'll make a quick overnight trip back to Bangkok next Saturday for Joe to have his shoulder checked out by Dr. Somsak. Then we return to limpid Hua Hin until just before we fly to Burma March 9. That's the plan, unless we surprise ourselves again.
We thought Jomtien would be a pleasant seaside spot for Joe to relax and exercise his arm and for me to get going on a new book. Although the place was a little less racy and chaotic than central Pattaya, just to the north, Jomtien was no place to kick back, it turned out. It combined too many of the worst features---and far too few of the best features---of Las Vegas, Sodom, Phnom Penh and Trenton.
Also, our $50 hotel---big bucks for us---was crummy. On its Web site the Jomtien Thani resembled one of those postcards of Miami Beach in 1948. Close up, the swimming pool water looked like Bald Eagle Creek in 1948, just downstream from the Lock Haven, PA papermill. And our room could have been the Tijuana motel room where Janet Leigh was held captive by a Mexican drug gang in Touch of Evil.
We did, however, have a pleasant visit with Barbara Wheaton's old foodie pal Fritz Blanc and his partner, retired Philadelphia lawyer Len Bucki. They have found more serene Jomtien precincts to live in, and we enjoyed hearing about their life in Thailand and their take on Thai politics---rotten to the core---and their exuberant social lives.
On the other side of the Gulf---and gulf---our friend Poe found us a small, quiet place called the Seahorse Resort, not far from where Simon and Poe live in Hua Hin. Only eight of the hotel's 29 rooms are occupied. December's political turmoil in Bangkok has combined with the world economic crisis to devastate Thai tourism. So we got a bargain rate at this bright blue and white, nicely designed arrangement of terraced rooms all overlooking palm and frangipani trees and a big sparkling turquoise pool. Lovely.
We'll make a quick overnight trip back to Bangkok next Saturday for Joe to have his shoulder checked out by Dr. Somsak. Then we return to limpid Hua Hin until just before we fly to Burma March 9. That's the plan, unless we surprise ourselves again.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Good shoulder
Joe had "Shoulder Surgery---Part Deux" Monday night at nine. It went well and he was released from Bangkok Nursing Home Hospital this afternoon.
Like last year's, the surgery was more complex than the surgeons had anticipated. Dr. Somsak told Joe last year that the shoulder is a complex mechanism and about 20 percent of such surgeries have complications. Joe's was one of them, it turned out. Scar tissue formed, causing pain and limiting range of motion in his left arm. Monday's surgery was meant to break up scar tissue, and it did. But Joe's scarring was so voluminous that one big scar could only be stretched, not broken up. Also, Dr. Somsak found a loose screw that could have been the source of Joe's considerable pain when lowering his arm. The doctor fixed that.
Although Joe apparently will not regain 100 percent of range of motion in that arm, the improvement is vast and he is satisfied. Also, he is no longer in great pain. There is pain from the incision, which will heal, but this pain is not nearly so severe as the pain from the scarring and the---no cheap humor, please---loose screw.
BNH Hospital worked like a dream, as before. The medical staff are honest, straightforward, competent and good-natured. The rooms are pleasant and the food superb. Visitors can order room service. I ordered a pork larb (minced with herbs and chillies) for lunch yesterday from the a la carte menu, and it was as tasty as any larb from Bangkok's best restaurants---i.e., those on the street corners.
Also, the thugs at Massachusetts Blue Cross-Blue Shield agreed this time to reimburse the hospital directly. Last year Joe paid out of pocket, and it took BC-BS ten months to reimburse him. Those people should all be in prison, along with the elected officials who enable them and take a cut of their grotesque profits. Single payer now! Single payer now!
Friday we are off for two weeks at the seashore while Joe exercises his arm and otherwise recuperates. We're going down to Jomtien Beach, near-but-not-too-near satanic Pattaya, the Gulf of Thailand's sun-splashed playground of the fallen. After a few days in Pattaya last year, I was reminded of the old verse about Lynn, Massachusetts. "Lynn, Lynn, city of sin/You never come out the way you went in."
Somtien Beach, just south of Pattaya, is quieter and marginally more Presbyterian, though still just a few hours from Bangkok.
Then it's back to Bangkok---some good Bangkok pix will be up on the blog soon---and then March 9 we head for sad, beautiful Burma. Two Burmese acquaintances visited Joe in the hospital yesterday and we had some stimulating talk about that place, which has its own set of loose-screw problems.
An added complication was the Hill-Sachs lesion which had developed as a result of a fracture a some point. This further destabilized the shoulder making dislocation more likely.
Like last year's, the surgery was more complex than the surgeons had anticipated. Dr. Somsak told Joe last year that the shoulder is a complex mechanism and about 20 percent of such surgeries have complications. Joe's was one of them, it turned out. Scar tissue formed, causing pain and limiting range of motion in his left arm. Monday's surgery was meant to break up scar tissue, and it did. But Joe's scarring was so voluminous that one big scar could only be stretched, not broken up. Also, Dr. Somsak found a loose screw that could have been the source of Joe's considerable pain when lowering his arm. The doctor fixed that.
Although Joe apparently will not regain 100 percent of range of motion in that arm, the improvement is vast and he is satisfied. Also, he is no longer in great pain. There is pain from the incision, which will heal, but this pain is not nearly so severe as the pain from the scarring and the---no cheap humor, please---loose screw.
BNH Hospital worked like a dream, as before. The medical staff are honest, straightforward, competent and good-natured. The rooms are pleasant and the food superb. Visitors can order room service. I ordered a pork larb (minced with herbs and chillies) for lunch yesterday from the a la carte menu, and it was as tasty as any larb from Bangkok's best restaurants---i.e., those on the street corners.
Also, the thugs at Massachusetts Blue Cross-Blue Shield agreed this time to reimburse the hospital directly. Last year Joe paid out of pocket, and it took BC-BS ten months to reimburse him. Those people should all be in prison, along with the elected officials who enable them and take a cut of their grotesque profits. Single payer now! Single payer now!
Friday we are off for two weeks at the seashore while Joe exercises his arm and otherwise recuperates. We're going down to Jomtien Beach, near-but-not-too-near satanic Pattaya, the Gulf of Thailand's sun-splashed playground of the fallen. After a few days in Pattaya last year, I was reminded of the old verse about Lynn, Massachusetts. "Lynn, Lynn, city of sin/You never come out the way you went in."
Somtien Beach, just south of Pattaya, is quieter and marginally more Presbyterian, though still just a few hours from Bangkok.
Then it's back to Bangkok---some good Bangkok pix will be up on the blog soon---and then March 9 we head for sad, beautiful Burma. Two Burmese acquaintances visited Joe in the hospital yesterday and we had some stimulating talk about that place, which has its own set of loose-screw problems.
An added complication was the Hill-Sachs lesion which had developed as a result of a fracture a some point. This further destabilized the shoulder making dislocation more likely.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Ayuthaya
Yes, it looks like a space age earth shoe but this was our ride
An array of offerings at a temple
The context of the ruins
Gold offerings pressed onto the feet of the Buddha
The Buddha's articulated hair
Merit makers
Day trip
On Thursday, Joe and I went up to Ayuthaya, the former Thai capital. A two-hour train ride north of Bangkok, Ayauthaya is a place of pride and holiness to Thais. The capital of an empire that lasted from the mid-fourteenth century to 1767, Ayuthaya was a thriving metropolis and a center of international trade when London was a muddy village. It's where Siam really took shape. After Burmese invaders sacked the city, the Chakri dynasty moved its capital down the Chao Phrya river to what is now Bangkok, and Ayuthaya crumbled. Today it's a collection of elegant ruins, some partially restored, scattered around a commercial city of no particular distinction. Thais go there in great numbers, though, for merit-making offerings and prayers and for good luck.
Maybe the luckiest spot in Ayuthaya is Wat (temple) Na Phra Meru, built by King Rama III in 1546. The Burmese army used it as a cannon emplacement for firing at the Thai royal palace. But a cannon blew up, badly injuring the Burmese general. He let the wat stand, and it is the only Chakri structure in Ayuthaya still intact.
Most Ayuthaya architecture was filched from the Khmer (Cambodians today will tell you the Thais stole their culture), with lots of tall prangs (brick and masonry towers with corn-cob-shaped spires) and some Hindu-style stupas. With the stately, intricate Khmer artisanry and the sun blazing down, we felt as if we might have been back at Angkor Wat.
The most disturbing Ayuthaya sight was at Wat Phra Mahathat. That's where dozens of Buddha statues have had their heads lopped off, stolen, and sold to antique collectors. It is unclear when this took place, but apparently it was some time ago.
The same wat has a wonderfully satisfying feature, a stone Buddha head smiling out from among the twisted roots of a Bodhi tree. The Bodhi (same as a banyan) grew around the head over the centuries and lifted it several feet off the ground. Other fine Ayuthaya sights were a couple of enormous reclining Buddhas, each draped Christo-like with gauzy monks-robe-orange fabric, and with only The Enlightened One's feet and head sticking out. He looks so comfortable in this position, and I guess with what he knows.
Setting off yesterday, we were as excited about the train ride as we were over the opportunity to walk around in the heat and dust looking at ruins. The second-class cars were sold out for our northward trip, so we rode third-class up, second back. The third-class seats had a bit of padding and were okay, but the car was stifling even with all the windows wide open. The middle-class riders on the air-conditioned subway train to Hua Lamphong Railway Station earlier in the morning seemed so serene on the way to their shops and offices. The sweltering poor on the train looked not so much placid as listless. The man who fell asleep against Joe's shoulder had needle tracks on his hands, Joe said.
The return trip---which we nearly missed after a station agent told us train 112 would be delayed 55 minutes, and then it turned up only half an hour late---was more comfortable. The creaking and groaning coaches resembled those of the New York Central around the year the line went bankrupt. Joe marveled at the ceiling fans which, thanks to an ingenious herky-jerky mechanism, rotated 360 degrees. For a second time yesterday, we watched the rice paddies roll by, and the groves of mangos and banana trees. We were back in Bangkok in time for dinner at Banana Leaf, our favorite restaurant. We had tom yam kung, Penang curry and a not-entirely-Thai Banana Leaf concoction called mayonnaise lime chicken. It is what it sounds like, but with tiny morsels of juicy limes on top, skin and all, that are not only edible but luscious in this peculiar tasty dish.
Maybe the luckiest spot in Ayuthaya is Wat (temple) Na Phra Meru, built by King Rama III in 1546. The Burmese army used it as a cannon emplacement for firing at the Thai royal palace. But a cannon blew up, badly injuring the Burmese general. He let the wat stand, and it is the only Chakri structure in Ayuthaya still intact.
Most Ayuthaya architecture was filched from the Khmer (Cambodians today will tell you the Thais stole their culture), with lots of tall prangs (brick and masonry towers with corn-cob-shaped spires) and some Hindu-style stupas. With the stately, intricate Khmer artisanry and the sun blazing down, we felt as if we might have been back at Angkor Wat.
The most disturbing Ayuthaya sight was at Wat Phra Mahathat. That's where dozens of Buddha statues have had their heads lopped off, stolen, and sold to antique collectors. It is unclear when this took place, but apparently it was some time ago.
The same wat has a wonderfully satisfying feature, a stone Buddha head smiling out from among the twisted roots of a Bodhi tree. The Bodhi (same as a banyan) grew around the head over the centuries and lifted it several feet off the ground. Other fine Ayuthaya sights were a couple of enormous reclining Buddhas, each draped Christo-like with gauzy monks-robe-orange fabric, and with only The Enlightened One's feet and head sticking out. He looks so comfortable in this position, and I guess with what he knows.
Setting off yesterday, we were as excited about the train ride as we were over the opportunity to walk around in the heat and dust looking at ruins. The second-class cars were sold out for our northward trip, so we rode third-class up, second back. The third-class seats had a bit of padding and were okay, but the car was stifling even with all the windows wide open. The middle-class riders on the air-conditioned subway train to Hua Lamphong Railway Station earlier in the morning seemed so serene on the way to their shops and offices. The sweltering poor on the train looked not so much placid as listless. The man who fell asleep against Joe's shoulder had needle tracks on his hands, Joe said.
The return trip---which we nearly missed after a station agent told us train 112 would be delayed 55 minutes, and then it turned up only half an hour late---was more comfortable. The creaking and groaning coaches resembled those of the New York Central around the year the line went bankrupt. Joe marveled at the ceiling fans which, thanks to an ingenious herky-jerky mechanism, rotated 360 degrees. For a second time yesterday, we watched the rice paddies roll by, and the groves of mangos and banana trees. We were back in Bangkok in time for dinner at Banana Leaf, our favorite restaurant. We had tom yam kung, Penang curry and a not-entirely-Thai Banana Leaf concoction called mayonnaise lime chicken. It is what it sounds like, but with tiny morsels of juicy limes on top, skin and all, that are not only edible but luscious in this peculiar tasty dish.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Various pictures from Thailand and Laos
Looking past a Buddha figure at a Chinese temple to the coastline of Hua Hin
Joe's 50th birthday cake. Pretty special, huh?
Jane getting a lotus blessing at the royal palace in Bangkok
Mosaic detail at the royal palace in Bangkok.
The boats in a small harbor near Hua Hin
The wonderful limestone Buddha cave near Hua Hin
The observatory at the summer palace of Rama the Fourth, King Monkut.
A seafood merchant
A New Year's decoration in Chinatown
The crowds in Bangkok's Chinatown to celebrate the Lunar New Year.
A model awaited the arival of the princess who was to kick off the New Year's festivities.
Stringing lights for night-time dragon dance.
A street vendor makes some incredible dish.
Looking down the Nam Kahn to the bamboo bridge in Luang Prabang. The last light of the day illuminates the lush vegetable gardens that benefit from the floodwaters each year.
Rules in our hotel in Luang Prabang. Please note and observe!
Beautiful stenciled walls in wat in Luang Prabang.
Market goods in the Luang Prabang market.
A monk in Luang Prabang. Though he spoke next to no English, when I showed him his picture, he smiled broadly and said, "Handsome"
The morning mist rises from the Nam Tha river outside our room at The Boat Landing in Luang Namtha.
A woman at the market in Luang Prabang
Cellophane noodles drying in the sun. We watched this four-person operation. A man carried the sacks of (mung bean flour?) and dumped it into the top of a machine that looked like a sausage machine. It was combined with hot water and extruded downwards. A woman cut five foot lengths of this hot mass four inches in diameter and lay it on a stack to cool. After cooling, the sections were put one at a time into a water bath and rubbed together until they separated. Then they were carried out into the sun to dry.
An Akha woman
By the edge of a stream a Lanten woman spoons bamboo paper pulp over a screen to make bamboo paper.
The gang on the lawn outside the author's wing of the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok (Dick, Jane, Jack, Joe). Having recovered from our various ailments, we were not asked to leave. Unlike Somerset Maugham, who in 1925 was told to take his malaria elsewhere.
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