Dim Sum Dialogues in Thailand: Bangkok

by Stephen Greenwood on

The city of Bangkok is a dichotomy between peaceful Buddhist temples & sordid red light districts. Beautiful national monuments & shoddy patches of low-income housing. Large, upscale shopping malls & equally large, rickety floating markets. Bright pink taxis or loud tuk tuks that jam the streets & a convenient but limited elevated metro line. Gleaming skyscrapers & lowly guest houses. The list goes on.

For the Americans out there, imagine a metropolitan area with a spread just about double that of Los Angeles, containing one million less people but three times the spice.
The area developed as a small trading post at the mouth of the Chao Phraya River and became the capital city of the kingdom of the Siam Empire in 1768. Around that time, it was given the ceremonial name of (take a deep breath) Krung Thep Mahanakhon Amon Rattanakosin Mahinthara Yuthaya Mahadilok Phop Noppharat Ratchathani Burirom Udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amon Phiman Awatan Sathit Sakkathattiya Witsanukam Prasit. That became shortened to Krung Thep Maha Nakhon, which is still the official name in Thai – but the name Bangkok stuck with foreigners and became the official English name for the entire city.

Brightly lit and ornately decorated gold signs stand tall on the corners of the streets, proudly displaying pictures of Thailand’s King and Royal Family. The King’s face is a familiar sight due to it’s prominence on everything in Thailand. Money, pictures, posters, signs. I’m told that Thai people really love their King, yet it seems that most people are reluctant to discuss thoughts on the Royal Family with foreigners.

There are a few stops that are mandatory in Bangkok. The first is the Grand Palace, which was the official residence of Thai Kings from the 18th century until present, when the current King chose to live in a different palace. The detail and architecture of the entire complex is mesmerizing. On the grounds is The Temple of the Emerald Buddha, which was built as the Monarch’s personal place of worship. It’s a breathtaking collection of holy buildings, statues, and pagodas – and regarded as the most sacred temple in Thailand. I find the visit to the temple alone was worth the 350 baht entrance fee for the Grand Palace.

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Wat Pho is also worth the short 10-minute walk from the Grand Palace, where for 50 Baht you can see Asia’s largest reclining buddha (46m long) and gaze at the remarkable mother of pearl inlaid into the buddha’s giant feet.

From there, it’s easy to jump on a river taxi (don’t fall for the overpriced tourist boats) for 15-20 baht or so and take in a different perspective on the city (or avoid the notoriously bad traffic jams). The Skytrain is also another option for avoiding street transportation, although it doesn’t cover the areas near the Grand Palace & Wat Pho. On the elevated train there are two lines to choose from, and you’ll need coins to pay for tickets which should cost anywhere from 15 to 40 baht depending on the destination.

The Skytrain provides access to Bangkok’s most popular mall – MBK, which is near the National Stadium stop on the Silom line. Shoppers can find virtually anything at MBK, and can even attempt to barter with independent shop stalls – but it will help to have a Thai friend with you.

The Bang Ramat Floating Market is also a major attraction in Bangkok, although only open on Sundays it’s easily accessible from the adjacent Taling Chan Floating Market, which is open on weekends. Whichever floating market you visit in Bangkok, make sure to plan an early morning visit when the markets are most active and transportation is readily available.

There are plenty of great local & foreign restaurants around the city, and a variety of upscale bars and nightclubs at the city’s fancy hotels around the downtown area.

One word of warning: when you’re looking for transport, watch out for tuk tuk drivers that offer ridiculous multi-stop city tours for ridiculously low prices (10 baht per person), or that tell you that your destination (a temple) is closed until 3pm, so they can take you somewhere else instead. These usually end up being a series of spontaneous stops at tailors or travel bureaus, where they’ll receive commission for your possible patronage. Stick to metered pink taxis if you’re not looking for the thrill of the tuk tuks.

Whatever adventure you’re looking for in Bangkok, it’s likely you’ll find it – no matter the time of day or night.

Dim Sum Dialogues in Thailand: Street music

by Stephen Greenwood on

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning and most of the rowdy backpackers have deserted Bangkok’s Khao San Road. A large rat scurries down the gutter of the street, stopping only to inspect trash and empty plastic buckets that have been strewn about the pavement. A few dispersed food vendors finish packing their stalls for the day and roll them towards wherever home may be.

Compared to the energy of the road during the daytime, it feels eerily silent and motionless. I begin the walk toward my $8 USD-per-night hostel when the reverberation of a guitar slowly starts to fill the void of the early morning. The sound grows louder and I see a small crowd of maybe ten people sitting and standing around a guitarist on the sidewalk.
The guitarist is outfitted with the flare of a seventies rock star. Skinny bellbottom jeans, a pocketed shirt with shoulder straps, and American sneakers. He has long, bushy black hair that bobs at his shoulders as he strums an acoustic guitar. He’s playing the chorus of Yesterday by the Beatles, and the handful of young tourists are fervently singing along. When he finishes, a young girl with a British accent shouts out “Let’s hear some Dylan… I know you know Dylan!”

I sense a little of reluctance from the guitarist – “I don’t know all the words, but maybe you can help me”. He obliges and strums the opening chords. “How many roads must a man walk down, before they can call him a man…”

The British girl leans over to me and boastingly says, “See he knows it, he just needs a bit of prompting.”

I settle in to the small crowd and hang around for a couple more songs. Radiohead. Neil Young. Eagle Eye Cherry.

It’s my third night staying on the Khao San, and I’ve seen him out here both previous nights. Each time I passed him on the side of the road there was a group of travelers crowded around him, half listening, half engrossed in their own conversations with new acquaintances. I want to know why the guitarist is out here at this hour. For money? For fame? For friends?

As the crowd starts to break away and socialize amongst themselves I move closer and ask what his name is. In a thick Thai accent that was undetectable during the song, he gives a small smile and says “Diow. Did you like my songs?” I tell him that I did, and ask if he’s ever bothered by the few rambunctious stragglers that stagger up to him and try to compete for attention. He softly replies in broken English, “Well if they come and respect me, I would appreciate it. But I play here, I’m not ask someone to come to listen or play, if you don’t like – you go, if you don’t like then stay and that makes me happy.”

I ask what makes him happiest – why does he come out? “When I play and then have alot of people listen and sing along, it’s what makes me happy. For money it’s not really important – but the feeling is much more important for me.”

My inquiries keep coming. What’s your biggest dream? He stops to consider it, repeating the question to himself. “To buy a Ricken-backer.” He laughs. “For now, I don’t really have a long goal, I just a short goal everyday I want to finish. For this goal today I make short goal first – I guess long goal is maybe to buy a house. Even maybe big goal is to grow the tree all over the world…” he trails off, looking down at his guitar, and starts to pluck at the strings.

He looks up, ready to change the subject. “Do you want to hear my song?” he says. I feel honored that he’d share an original with me and I tell him that I’d love to hear it.

The strumming is edgy with a distinct, steady rock beat. I can tell that he’s far more into this tune than the previous covers he’s been playing all night. He closes his eyes, letting his voice break into high notes that are remnant of his influences from British rock. The lyrics are extremely simple, but it’s my favorite song of the evening.

He looks up for approval at the end of it and I tell him how much I enjoyed it. I mean it. I ask why he doesn’t play original songs more often. “Most people, they want to hear things they know. Things they can sing with too. Sometimes I play my songs, but most of the time they like things they know.”

How ironic. Wandering souls coming from across the world to have a solo performance from a talented local musician, and we’d rather hear something familiar, something from our side of the world that we can spout off to as well.

It’s not necessarily a bad thing – he’s intentionally crafted his image and style from the legends of the West…and it draws people in. It gives him the small crowds that he enjoys.

I’m struck by how soft-spoken and genuine he is. No real big goal. Just short goal. Maybe buy a house. There’s a lesson to be learned here, but it’s way past my bedtime, so I thank him and say goodnight.

A pair of lively Italian twins from Naples come up to take pictures with him. The crowd is smaller now but has reformulated around Diow. They call out a few more requests, and he accommodates them, starting up on a well-known Doors song in a crisp western accent. I hear the opening lines as I walk down the deserted Khao San…

“People are strange, when you’re a stranger. Faces look ugly, when you’re alone. Women seem wicked when you’re unwanted, streets are uneven when you’re down…”

Diow can be found playing on the sidewalks of Khao San Road most evenings during the week & weekend. You can check out a recording (audio only) from the performance below:

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Dim Sum Dialogues in Thailand: The Khao San

by Stephen Greenwood on
All this month, Dim Sum Dialogues will be bringing you stories from the road. The first destination: Thailand – from Bangkok to Ko Phan Ngan…to discover the hype behind the legendary Full Moon Parties.


It’s approaching midnight fast, and the immigration lines in Suvarnabhumi Airport are long. Walking through the modern, sprawling airport, I remind myself not to touch anything in the Duty Free stores, thanks to a Gadling article that I read a few weeks prior to my trip.

The immigration official examines my passport. “First time to Thailand?” he asks. I nod my head. He points a small, futuristic Logitech camera in my direction, presses a key on his keyboard and waves me through. I skip baggage claim. All I’ve brought is a backpack, a camera, and a sense of adventure – my ideal vacation.
Once outside the airport, I scan the sidewalk for the signs advertising the A2 Airport Express – which I had been told would take me to a place called Khao San Road. Everybody recommended the area. “It’s really the only place you want to stay in Bangkok”, friends had told me.

I find the bus at the last minute, pay my 150 baht and find an empty seat among a few young people that look well-traveled. I settle in to the large seat and stare out the window as the bus merges on to a large, elevated highway. The cleanliness and engineering quality of the highway takes me by surprise. I had heard that Thailand was a developing country, but the bright LED lights that adorn the skyscrapers seem to suggest that Thailand is a little more prosperous than the other developing countries I’ve been to. But then again, the view from the highway can be deceiving.

After 45 minutes of driving through the expansive city, the bus rumbles to a stop at the end of a busy street in the Banglamphu neighborhood. I step out of the bus and am immediately overwhelmed with the amount of activity buzzing at this hour on a weeknight. Hundreds of people are milling around one long street that’s lined with neon signs and advertisements for hostels, bars, and restaurants. Vendors peddle goods out of small road side stalls and mobile carts: t-shirts, hats, pirated DVD’s, fake driver’s licenses, jewelry, souvenirs, falafel, pizza, beer, pad thai, even fried insects – crickets, beetles and worms are all available for purchase.

A boom of tourism in the 1980’s gradually made the area known as a place for cheap accommodation with easy access to the Grand Palace and temples that are popular with tourists. Now it’s a destination in its own right, touted as “The Gateway to Southeast Asia”.

The first few hostels I wander into are fully booked, but there’s a seemingly unlimited number of options in the area, and I’m able to find a basic room with a fan, a bed, and not much else. I set my bags down and head outside to explore the rest of the scene. Every type of traveler imaginable is represented. The street is full of dreadlocks, tattoos, Havaianas sandals and oversized backpacks. New arrivals look lost and overwhelmed. They blearily rub their eyes while thumbing through guidebooks in search of a place to sleep.

Taxi & tuk tuk drivers are everywhere, discreetly offering passengers rides to ping-pong shows or late night clubs. As the night gets later, they all seem to be offering rides to the same place – a late night club called “Spicy”, which apparently pays taxi drivers commission to wrangle tourists to the club with a cheap fare, so they can command an exorbitant cover charge upon arrival. I wander down the road frequently stopping to chat with welcoming groups of people sitting on the curb of the road. They sip large bottles of local brews – Chang or Singha – and swap stories of their recent adventures of tubing in Laos, trekking in Chiang Mai, or diving off Ko Phi Phi.

An especially engaging American tells me about a 3 month motorcycle trip he just finished. He bought a Russian Minsk in Hanoi for $400 USD and rode with a friend through the north of Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos, eventually selling the motorcycle for nearly the same price when they had reached their destination. The following month he plans on riding a bicycle through India & the Himalayas.

Patrons of the sidewalk bars are momentarily interrupted from conversation by a young Thai girl that begs them to buy roses so that she can go home for the night. She can’t be older than 8 years, but is already an expert saleswoman – offering to place bets on a game of thumb-war when the roses are declined. A few moments later, an old woman with a bag full of cheap Thai souvenirs comes and places a funny hat on a tourist. Everyone laughs and takes pictures, but no transactions take place and the woman moves on down the road.

I’m completely taken in by the stories, the laughter, and the energy of the place. It’s a paradise for backpackers with a passion for meeting new people and making spontaneous travel plans with new friends.

Things begin to quiet down around 2.30 in the morning, and I decide to call it a night. Several people around me have made plans to go to the full moon party – and we exchange phone numbers, promising to find each other when we get to Ko Phan Ngan. If that plan fails, then we agree to track one another down on Facebook so we can be best friends for the rest of our lives…

Seven jobs that may soon disappear: Travel to where they are while you can

by Jamie Rhein on

With Labor Day approaching, as we think of work, consider the culturally significant jobs in the world that may not be around in the future. Here is a look at seven that are hallmarks of particular regions.

First up. Traditional Glass Blower. In one of the furnace rooms at Cam Fornace in Murano, Italy, a short water bus hop from Venice, is a black and white photo from the 1920s (or thereabouts). In the photo, young men are blowing glass the way that glass blowers in Murano have blown glass for hundreds of years.

One of the men in the photo is the father of the master glass blower in this shot that I snapped two weeks ago when he was demonstrating how to make a vase. This master glass blower has been working at Cam Fornace ever since he was 14-years-old when he started there as an apprentice. Now he is 62.

According to our tour guide at our factory visit, traditional glass blowers are becoming a dying breed. In the past, the art was passed on through generations as sons learned from their fathers. These days, Italian sons are not particularly interested in their fathers’ glass blowing life. Our guide suspects that in twenty years, it will be hard to find a traditional Italian glass blower.

This doesn’t mean there won’t be glass blowers, but there won’t be many–if any– people who will be doing the art the way it’s been done for centuries. Cam Fornace will not be the same.

Traditional glass blowers aren’t the only jobs that are becoming a rarity. I’ve thought of others based on what I’ve seen in my travels. Each are jobs that are impacted by economics and cultural shifts. Here are six more jobs you may want to see people do before it’s too late.

Cyclo Driver. In Vietnam, cyclo drivers are becoming edged out by progress. As more Vietnamese are meeting middle class standards, motorcycles and cars are being traded in for bicycles. And, as city streets are being taken over by motorized vehicles, cyclos are losing ground of where they are allowed to pedal.

Although there will probably always be cyclos available for tourist use in certain historic sections of cities such as Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City, I suspect that in the next few years, with economic progress, cyclos will have been swapped for vehicles that aren’t so hard on the operator. Days like the one I had in Hue back in the mid 1990s where I stood taking pictures of the various cyclos as they passed by French colonial buildings will no longer be possible. (The photo was taken in Hanoi in 2000, four years after the Hue visit.)

Bybee Pottery Maker. Not far from Lexington, Kentucky, Bybee Pottery has been in operation since 1809 by members of the same family. Lately, keeping up with the family business at this historic location is becoming more difficult. This article in the Lexington Herald-Leader echoes some of what I’ve heard. I’m hoping that even if family members are no longer interested in fashioning the company’s signature pieces, like this blue pitcher, (the same kind I have), someone else will take over the business and keep the pottery tradition going. After all, Bybee Pottery has the distinction of being the oldest pottery making business west of the Alleghenies. One of the family member cousins is making pottery in the Bybee way in Middletown, Kentucky near Louisville. His business, Little-Bit-of-Bybee, offers mail order which the original location does not. The Bybee way involves a kick-wheel. I easily spent an hour watching the process on a Bybee visit.

Horse Carriage Driver Depending upon the economy and tourist desires, I’m wondering how long horse carriages in Central Park in New York City will last. There have been rumblings about the horses’ care and safety. Here’s a discussion between Alec Baldwin and Liam Neeson about just that. On the other hand, with carriage rides being a signature of a romantic jaunt in Manhattan, and horses, their owners, and the drivers needing an income, the industry might prevail.

Traditional Lantern Maker Lukang, Taiwan, in addition to being one of the most historically interesting towns on the island, Lukang is home to one Taiwan’s living treasures–lantern maker Wu Dun-hou. Hopefully, Wu Dun-hou is teaching people his trade, but I’m afraid like most skilled crafts people, there will be less people willing to pay for the more expensive handmade lantern when mostly machine made knock-offs are less expensive. We were lucky to meet this artist in person and he graciously let me snap his picture. One scenario is that the knock-off sales will help fund the salaries of those making the originals.

Coconut Shell Rope Maker Coconut rope-making is done in India and Sri Lanka. In Sri Lanka, as a matter of fact, many items are made from coconut shells. Some people have the job of breaking apart coconuts all day long. Coconut shell breaking has got to be one of the more low skilled and low paying jobs in the coconut industry. Rope making is a few steps up. This photo was taken near Kerela, India. Interestingly, if you click on this link you’ll find a photo I came upon in my photo search. It was taken in 1960. Let’s see if this job will be around in 2020.

Elephant Washer Another job in Sri Lanka, Thailand and India that may or may not be around in the future is elephant washing. Using these elephants for work, however, is one way to ensure that they are protected. Perhaps economic growth will be slow enough that working elephants will continue to have a place in India, Sri Lanka and Thailand’s economy. Sure they’ll always be tourist shows, but I’m talking about construction. In that case, if the elephants continue to work doing tasks like hauling logs, they’ll get dirty, so perhaps washing elephants is a job that will remain for years to come.

Thailand closes internet cafes for two weeks

by Stephen Greenwood on

A heads up for all those traveling to Thailand in the next two weeks: the country’s public health minister, Witthaya Kaewparadai, announced plans to close tutorial schools and Internet cafes nationwide in a bid to prevent the spread of the H1N1 virus.

The announcement was made following the death of a Phuket University student last week. Schools and internet cafes are asked to spend the two weeks carefully cleaning equipment to prevent the spread of infection.

The closure went into effect yesterday, July 13th and is scheduled to end on the 28th of July.

Thailand’s decision to close Internet cafes is believed to be a world first. So, if you know anyone traveling in the “Land of Smiles”, don’t be alarmed if they aren’t responding to your emails.