Bangkok Expat Mama

Oh, Bloody Hell!

Pardon the language, gentle readers, but T.O.T. (that's the Telephone Organisation of Thailand) are testing my nerves again. So far I'm losing the battle to keep "jai yen".

Here I am, freshly returned from Burma, positively brimming with stories to share, bursting with political postulations (not least of which is, where the hell is Daw Aung San Suu Kyi?! What I saw when cruising past her house in Yangon makes me suspect she's under plain "arrest", no longer "house arrest" -- but more on that later), and fairly staggering under loads of photos to put in a bloggy photo album, but thanks to more T.O.T. idiocy, I can't access anything remotely Typepad (my blog's host) from home via my T.O.T. server.

Hence my sitting in the True Life coffee shop-cum-daytime-rave on Thong Lo. In an effort to project a uber-inter-trendy-lifestyle ambience, True have tricked the place out with Jetson-themed furniture built for midgets -- oy, my aching back! -- while they make sure the soundtrack can compete with Club Astra on a Saturday night. How can anyone get any work done around here? So harrumph-eth the 30-something farang lady who can't blog from home. The coffee menu looks intriguing, though. Next time, when I'm not in a hurry to fetch Master A from nursery, I'll try a Peppermint Peddy latte. (I stared at that one for a while before realising the menu means Peppermint "Patty", like the Peanuts cartoon heroine or the American sweet.)

Why am I so sure there will be a next time, during which I'll try the Peddy?  T.O.T. has blocked Typepad before, and it wasn't brief. Starting the afternoon of 19 Sept. -- that date sound familiar, old Thailand hands? -- and lasting for about 10 days, T.O.T. blocked all things Typepad from its servers. I couldn't access the host site to work on my blog, nor any blogs at all that are hosted by Typepad. My calls to the service center met with the telephony equivalent of blank stares. Then, after 10 days of alternating between tearing my hair out and paying for online time at Internet cafes with non-T.O.T. servers (i.e. True, KSC, Linksys, etc.), which really irritated me as we already pay a monthly fee for service at home -- then, suddenly, when I idly decided to torture myself by trying for the gazillionth time to access a preferred Typepad blog such as Dim Sum Mum's, I discovered that access had returned.

Well, let's hope that this time round's blocking doesn't last as long as 10 days...or else BEM may finally, indubitably go irrevocably, certifiably mad! Either way, from home if access returns or from this cafe/disco if not, I'll upload some photos tomorrow and divulge the highlights from Burma.

Until then, jai yen...deep breaths...ommmm...

Off to Burma

Luckily my decision to return early to Bangkok after a bizarre virus-y thing felled me proved a good idea. By yesterday afternoon I felt about 80 percent normal, and this morning I feel okey-dokey -- which is particularly a good thing considering I've got to leave in half an hour to fly to Burma, which, the way the Walter Clan do it, is not exactly a restful endeavour.

The beach scene, the wildly expensive luxury boat ride down the Irrawaddy, the lying-on-cushions-while-a-pukkawallah-fans-us gig, we don't do that. It's too expenisve and feels inappropriately over the top, considering who profits most directly from the more chi-chi tourism (i.e. the SPDC), and the kids would get bored. Nah. We ride around in horse carts and kick balls around with our little guys and local kids, wake up to see sunrise and then never get a nap because our kids are too jazzed and so on. So it's interesting and gratifying and inspiring in many ways, but active enough that embarking while ill would be discouraged.

Alas, Suvarnabhumi presents its own physical challenges not for the faint-hearted, as I discovered after my last-minute flight back from Khon Kaen. The flight itself took only 45 minutes in the air. Then we landed at Bangkok's new airport. We waited on the stuffy airplane for 15 minutes for a stairway to arrive at our spot in the middle of the tarmac (I had mistakenly believed that part of the point of the new, bigger airport would be to eliminate TG's annoying stairway/bus-to-terminal scheme); then, by the time my section descended from the plane, we had to wait another five minuted for a second bus to arrive as the first had filled up and left already. Once on the bus we drove for 10 minuted before actually arriving at a door to the terminal. So, in review, we needed 45min to fly from Isaan to Bangkok, and 30min to get from the plane to the terminal.

We passengers then dutifully filed inside, walked about 30m up a slippery, marble-tiled incline, and turned left toward two escalators waiting to take us up to baggage claim, taxis, etc. -- only to find that both escalators were broken and immobile. Sigh. Up we trudged.

See you in about a week. Happy hols, everyone!

A Home More Than an Orphanage

Reared and educated as an Anglican, I've felt conflicted about organised religion for many years because, as a glass-half-empty person, I usually associate the idea with sowing division, promulgating guilt, and forcing belief systems on others. But visiting House of Mercy in Khon Kaen, which was founded by pastors from an Assemblies of God church, reminded me of the lessons that Jesus and His spiritual colleagues have tried to teach us, the lessons that frequently have been warped and twisted beyond recognition by many people who claim to be spreading His/Their word, yet are doing quite the opposite.

But as much as Jesus weeps every time, say, a self-proclaimed "Christian" parent rejects his child for coming out, I suspect He grins whenever contemplating this little orphanage. This is what He was talking about. The loving atmosphere at House of Mercy enveloped us as soon as we walked through the gate into the garden. The 39 children -- orphans who not only lost their mothers to HIV/AIDS (their fathers usually have never been around at all), but also live with the disease themselves -- are blooming with affection and cheekiness like any kids their age. This place is a home, not an institution.

A Kiwi woman named Angela Reynolds leads a staff of Thai locals and volunteers from Oz and New Zealand. A volunteer herself, Angela calls her past several years of helping the children a "life-changing experience". The loving efforts of Angela and her team are changing, improving, I daresay extending the lives of these precious children. I saw one Thai carer gently rubbing a salve into a tiny girl's scalp, then tenderly comb her hair. Angela was like a human trellis, considering how often kids would wander over and ask to be picked up for a cuddle. It's not all hugs, though: Angela acknowledges that the teenagers can be quite a handful -- a universal condition, one that I'll be dealing with in about five more years!

HIV/AIDS still carries an ugly stigma in Thailand. Some locals, however, drop off donations at the gate but are too afraid to enter due to prevailing ignorance about how HIV/AIDS actually spreads. Apparently many Thais believe that these children were born with the disease as karma for bad things they did in a previous life; if they suffer valiantly this time round, maybe they will come back in their next life as, say, children without the virus. I see it as a raw deal, an example of the frightening randomness of human existence.

Unfortunately I had to cut this trip short because I came down with some weird sore throat/fever thing. We spent our first late afternoon, after driving down, with the kids and then had dinner at the Kiwi Cafe with Angela and Ros's friend Dr Thom, a women's cancer specialist from Khon Kaen University. By then, my throat was killing me, but I told myself that all I needed was a good night's sleep to feel fit as a fiddle for the next morning's art workshop with the kids. The next morning, however, I could barely get out of bed. I decided to fly back that afternoon because the prospect of spending all day in bed and then driving back the next day (we'd planned on sidetrips as well, during which I would have languished in the van in misery) seemed ghastly indeed.

Leaving early, without getting to bat around the balloon again with spritely Pam, or letting Oi chat with Pedro again on my mobile, and without learning more Thai from assertive little Som-O, wasn't such a terrible wrench because we're going back in December during the Annual Walter Familiy Exodus to Isaan. I can't wait to see the children again and to introduce my two to the gang. Already I can picture Nathan and Alec, totally intimidated by the unknown situation, finding themselves gradually letting down their guard and before they know it, having such a blast with their new friends that they won't want to leave when it's time. I didn't collect for this trip (but my Aussie friend Alisen did pass me two huge bags of goods, so I made sure the ANZWG ladies knew they were Alisen's donations, not mine), but I will for the December visit.

We are definitely signing up to sponsor at least one child. Each child needs about five sponsors, due to the high costs of HIV/AIDS care, but most of House of Mercy's orphans aren't fully sponsored yet. I can vouch after looking around, talking with the volunteers, and most importantly, observing the children's thriving behaviour, that sponsoring a child through House of Mercy will bring joy and good health to a deserving little someone. Please check out their website if you're interested.

While we're on the topic of sponsoring and philanthropy, my friend Teresa in Oregon is fewer than 100 days away from her journey to Vietnam and Thailand. This intrepid single mum and her two kids will be helping orphans in both countries. I admire Teresa's vision and her commitment to bringing up her children as humane citizens of the world. Somehow she manages to run the household, pursue her own university studies, host international exchange students, AND plan for the Big Trip East. Hats off to Teresa -- I can't wait to welcome her to the Land of Smiles!

Off to Khon Kaen

Tomorrow morning at the ungodly hour of 6am I shall leave my house (mind you, that means setting the alarm for 5am!) and meet up with a small gaggle of ANZWG women heading up to Khon Kaen to deliver donated clothing, toys, and other goods to two House of Mercy orphanages in the area.

We'll return to Bangkok by Friday afternoon at the earliest, and probably will lack Internet access until then.

I'll be straight with you all. I'm not a saint (obviously) and didn't know of this project until after ANZWG wrapped up its collections drive. So I never pounded Bangkok's steaming sidewalks, knocking on doors, seeking donations. But once Bron told me about it and said the van still had space, and because I love Khon Kaen, need to get out of this city, and would like to suss out the orphanages' needs in anticipation of future philanthropy (like during our Annual Walter Family Christmas-time Exodus to Isaan), I asked to tag along.

We will spend Thursday with the children, who are all living with HIV/AIDS. I'm sure spending time with them will be gorgeous and heart-wrenching rolled up into one. This weekend, I'll post photos and more House of Mercy information for readers interested in helping the kids.

Until then...au revoir, mes amis!

Taps for an Extraordinary BEM

In today's Bangkok Post:

"Helen M. Papazian passed away Wednesday, October 11, 2006 in Osprey, Florida. She was 78 years old. Born May 19, 1928 in Boston, Massachusetts, Helen married Robert Baruir Papazian in 1954. He passed away in 1986.

Helen and Bob were blessed with three children: Annette Z.P.Ross, Diane H. Papazian-Longem and Robert B. Papazian. Additionally, she leaves four grandchildren, Daniel Ross, Madeline Ross, Jorgen Longem and Andreas Longem as wekk as Dr. Ira E. Ross, son-in-law, Maydar Aye, daughter-in-law and many other dear family members and friends.

Soon after Helen and Bob married, they left the United States to live in Vietnam for three years and 38 years in Thailand. Helen returned to the United States in 2003 where she lived in Florida with her three children.

Helen was an active member having served as President of the American Women's Club of Thailand, Princess Mother's Charity, Soroptimist International and International Women's Club as well as many other local Thai charities. In 2002 Helen became the first foreign recipient of the prestigious Anusingh Foundation Award for charitable contributions to the people of Thailand.

Graveside services will be held in Providence, Rhode Island where she will rest with her beloved Bob.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Women's Resource Center of Sarasota County, 340 Tuttle Avenue South, Sarasota, Florida 34237, and St. Boniface Episcopal Church, 5615 Midnight Pass Road, Sarasota, Florida 34242."

Wow. What a lady.

It's Raining Pink M&Ms!

My Aussie friend Julia, mum of Nathan's best mate at school, sent me two excellent emails today. One email touted M&Ms' promotion for breast cancer awareness, and the other email was to do with how she spent last night. In her car, in the rain -- by her seven-months-pregnant self. When she had been trying to join us for an all-too-rare mum's night out for dinner and "The Devil Wears Prada".

Poor babe!

Actually, both emails tie together in that those of us lucky enough to slog succesfully to the cinema nonetheless had no joy at the concession stand on the way in, where our quest for M&Ms "show trash" came up cold. Yep, Siam Paragon's otherwise fine theatres carry no chocolate treats for moviegoers to feast upon during the show. But then today I learned that M&Ms are more than simply delicious candies that never melt in my hot little paw. These are candies with a conscience!

First, as for the M&Ms email. Anything that raises funds for breast cancer research resounds with me because my mum is a survivor, going on seven years since beating the monster. She was diagnosed when my first son was two weeks old.

Julia's email included some endearing Aussie-centric terms. But checking M&Ms' official site reassured me that the company is running the promotion globally. Here 'tis:

"The maker of M&M candies has teamed up with the Susan G. Komen Women Breast Cancer Foundation to raise funds through the sale of their new "pink & white" M&M candies. For each 8-ounce bag of the special candies sold, the makers of M&M (Masterfoods) will donate AUS50cents to the foundation. The next time you want a treat, please pick up a bag (now sold in stores nationwide) -- you will be donating to a great cause and satisfying your sweet tooth. Just think...If each of us buy one bag or two...How much will be donated. Buy a bag for a friend...Please pass on to all your family and friends. Also any pink finger buns from Bakers Delight for AUS$1.20 -- the whole AUS$1.20 goes straight into a donation tin for breast cancer research."

Right. "Pink finger buns". Something about that sounds so...erm, wrong, to me. I guess that's just my hopelessly prurient mind projecting onto a harmless pastry. But if sales of "pink finger buns" raises funds for breast cancer research -- well, then, indulge in as many "pink finger buns" as you can, by all means!

The next email described how the rain gridlocked Bangkok's traffic and thwarted Julia's efforts to join us. Unfortunately stories like hers are all too common. Always having lived near a Skytrain, however, I've never experienced such a nightmare myself. Rolled up my trousers and stumbled barefoot through dirty, slimy floodwaters, sure -- but never sat through the infamous hours-long, rainy rot-dtit. Here is her ghastly tale of woe; it might help you remember, the next time you have the choice to hoof it, take the Skytrain, or ride in a car during a torrential Bangkok downpour, that the car option is just NOT ON.

"Well, at least I had an eventful evening, I guess. Being relatively new to Bangkok I didn't realise how bad the traffic could get in the rain. I should have caught the BTS [Skytrain] but I've been avoiding it since about 25 weeks along [in the pregnancy]. Last night I just wanted to hop out of the car and walk!

I left home at about 6pm as I wanted to get there a bit earlier to buy a black tie for Damien as he is at a funeral tonight. One of his staff at the embassy died two days ago but that's another story. Anyhow when i pulled out of my driveway, Soi Lang Suan was pretty flooded and I had a fleeting thought to turn back but the traffic didn't seem too bad and after all I had a 4WD so I thought I would be fine. Well, as I got closer to Siam the traffic and roads were horrendous. I hoped for the best but I thought I might have to bail. At 8pm when I texted you to say i wouldn't make it, was on the corner debating whether to turn left to Siam or right toward Central. I decided to turn right . Little did I know I would be stuck there for another three hours.

Well, by the time it got to 8:30pm I decided to call Damien as I was in walking distance from our place and at that point I'd been in the car for two and a half hours. I was hungry, dehydrated and hot because the aircon wasn't working properly whilst i was idling. I decided to turn the engine off for a while just before Damien arrived as the cars temperature was getting pretty hot. Big mistake!! When I tried to start it up again it wouldn't start of course.

Anyway Damien arrived to me being a total mess and he hadn't had the best day either because he was the one that had to tell most of the staff in his office about the passing of their colleague so you can imagine what mood he was in by the time he got to me. Luckily some lovely Thai guards helped us push the car eventually when the traffic started moving into a hotel car park and we organised to have it towed throughout the night. We got home at about 11pm and they towed the car once traffic cleared at about 2am. Thank God we didn't have to wait around for it."

May my friend's nightmare serve as a vivid reminder the next time we're tempted to seek refuge from the rain in a cosy ol' taxi!

Gonna Have to Face It...

...I'm addicted to "CSI".

Sorry, folks, I've been meaning to post for ages and not let the blog lie fallow, but a recent foray to MBK netted me the sixth season of "CSI", as well as the first season of "House" and various movies for my little monsters (such as "Garfield 2") and moi-meme (such as "Match Point").

But first things first. Himself and I adore Hugh Laurie, of Fry & Laurie fame (as well as so much else), so "House" tempts me no end. Alas, I must stay strong, and wait until Himself is around to break open the "House" party. My mum swears by the show. She loves it nearly as much as she loves "Project Runway", which means the plots must be pretty damn clever because Mum is the queen of sussing out story lines light years before the audience is supposed to. The woman often figures out who dunnit within a show's first 10 minutes. If you get off on the adrenaline rush of solid suspense television, do NOT watch TV with my mum.

Which leaves me with "CSI" Who'd have predicted that this sly, sexy show would not only last at least six years, but also spawn a multi-city franchise? And, back when we were struggling through multiplication tables with Mrs. Mundell and beaning each other with pepperoni-coloured-and-textured balls during dodgeball, who'd have predicted that my genial primary school classmate Sunil Nayar would grow up to become a producer of "CSI: Miami"?! Back then Sunil enjoyed freaking us out by wiggling his ears -- individually, mind you -- and flexing his double-jointed fingers. He's a good egg, that one. I wonder if David Caruso has seen Sunil's ear-wiggling trick?

Back to the pressing matter at hand: I must take leave, ladles and germs, to get my Gil Grissom fix. (I love him for his mind.) Although...a glimpse of Warrick's six-pack wouldn't hurt either!

It's the Wine Talkin'

Here's a post after drinking a nice large glass of Penfold's with tonight's pizza:

1. Visit newley.com and Bangkok Pundit for salient coup-related coverage.

2. "Entourage" is on right now, and it is seriously the funniest, most surreally realistic (yeah, I know, oxymorons, but true!) on U.S. TV these days. Jeremy Piven's character of Ari is adorably ruthless. And the buddies' patter is spot-on. "Let's hug it out, bitch!"

3. My children would make Dr. Johnson proud; they both invented words today. Nathan says "grampire" for "vampire" (don't ask why a seven-year-old is talking about vampires) and Alec says "makery" instead of "bakery", as in "They make pretzels in a makery, right? Where they make bread-like things?"