Biscuits and Gravy Come to Bangkok

       Yes, indeed. I caved. You see, in Thailand, there is no such thing as breakfast food. Thais eat the same sort of dishes every meal of the day. Which, under most circumstances, is actually quite convenient: no need to whip out different ingredients or find a speciality restaurant in order to eat breakfast food. This seems all fine and good until you realize that you are a person who adores classic breakfast dishes. 
       You see, I am one of those people. I love breakfast. I love capers and lox on a homemade bagel. I salivate at the thought of banana pancakes with Michigan, grade B, maple syrup. I get an endorphin high just thinking about the multitude of muffin possibilities. And, I take personal pride in my no-recipe-necessary rendition of biscuits and gravy. It is my power-recipe. I make it to relax, to give myself an ego-boost, and to show my love for those around me. 
       Naturally, when presented with the opportunity to cook in a friend's kitchen here, I jumped at the opportunity. My menu choice was even less surprising: Biscuits and Black Pepper Gravy and all the fixin’s for a Southern Breakfast. Who cares if it was Halloween Eve, a dinner party, and we were in Bangkok?! I was making Southern Breakfast come hell or high water.

Its not often that you take a boat to a friend's house. But, wait, I'm in Bangkok. That explains everything... Also, Keng's apartment is the bomb-diggity. Just the fact that there is a private shuttle boat should insight oohs and ahhs.

Bacon in a wok in Bangkok?! Check!

What homemade meal is complete without homemade cookies? None I make!

Sous-chef extraordinaire! He was a cookie makin' pro by the end of the evening.  

Making cookies is for the sole purpose of licking the spoon. Duh. 

Finished product: Biscuits, black pepper gravy, scrambled eggs, bacon and thai honey. Yum! Lovely evening with lovely people.  Love, love, love, love, love. 

Suu-ay Mak! Thai Standards of Beauty from a Farang Perspective.

      I am told I am beautiful (Suu-ay in thai) on a daily basis here. Sometimes, depending on my activities, there is a deluge of compliments. The motorcycle taxi driver gang just outside my apartment, women sitting next to me on the bus, the lady I buy my grilled banana breakfast from, students in the Biology department at Mahidol; all of them exclaim how beautiful I am whenever I encounter them. It is a little odd.  At first I thought it was just a form of simple flattery for farang. Perhaps they assumed it was one of the only thai words that I was familiar with and they wanted to be kind or, more insidiously for those peddling goods, that they wanted my business. Now I realize that not only is it genuine but it comes from a deeply-engrained and complicated set of beauty standards. 

      First of all, there is the issue of skin hue. A short stroll through any beauty department will reveal an overwhelming number of skin bleaching products for both men and women. There is eye cream, face cleanser, body wash, deodorant, foot creme, face masks, body scrubs, and bar soap.  In fact, finding any of these items without skin whiteners or brighteners is basically impossible. Even imported brands have added ingredients. (Good thing I brought enough BMe, Jason Organics, LUSH, and Burt’s Bees to ration out until someone comes to visit!) I am whiter than white and I suspect that the use of any sort of whitening agent would take my skin from beyond-fair to translucent. I love my pale skin but I also like having enough color so I am not confused with a corpse. But Thai people? They buy and use these products on a daily basis. Pale skin is a sign of beauty, wealth, and a high-class background. Women especially are subject to light skin standards. They carry umbrellas on sunny days, wear long sleeve shirts, and spend obscene amounts of money on lotions, potions, and spa treatments to turn their almond hued skin porcelain white.

Portion of the the "Beauty" aisle in Big C. All whitening. 

      Think about the American obsession with tanning beds, sunless tanner, and sun-bathing. Women in the States spend obscene amounts of money and time to risk melanoma and future wrinkles in order achieve the ideal sun-kissed look. Precisely the opposite of the Thai ideal... In fact, while my fair skin earns me compliments here, I cannot count the number of times someone has made a snide comment about how pale or sickly I look in the States. People have joked about how they are ‘blinded’ by my whiteness or commented that I would look so much more attractive with a bit of a tan. 

      I want to be clear that both standards are harmful, obsessive, and generally ridiculous. Both endanger a person’s physical health and mental well being. Both suck ludicrous amounts of money from the pockets of people who buy into advertisement campaigns, lifestyle ideals, and beauty standards that fail to accommodate the natural variety of human skin pigment. On one level, I am more than a little disgusted by both of them. On another level, I feel sorry for anyone, Thai or American, who feels as though they have to alter their appearance in order to be considered beautiful. I say screw them all and own what you have. Easier said than done, I realize, but if more people adopted this attitude it would wear on the rigidity of these standards. 

      Secondly, Thais regard European facial features as highly desirable. Most actresses and pop-stars that appear on television, in movies, on print ads, and on billboards look far more Western than Thai. And most Thai women see their own shallow-broad noses, pronounced lips, and almond shaped eyes as ugly and, instead, aspire to the pointy noses, thin-flat lips, and rounded eyes that characterize a European face. Just as American women flock to plastic surgeons for lip plumps and rhinoplasties to confound their European heritage, affluent Thai women undergo blepharoplasties and lip reductions to appear more Western. It fits the overused cliche that one always wants what they don’t have. 

      Keeping all this in mind, it is difficult for me to accept a ‘You’re so beautiful’ compliment without listening between the lines to hear an ‘I’m so ugly’ self-assessment... particularly when I am complimented by women. It bothers me and I try, as much as possible, to return the compliment using specific examples of why I think they are beautiful. Sometimes it works, most times they just brush it off and say that they are not pretty in comparison. In reality, even the most ordinary Thai woman is breathtakingly beautiful. The Western standard is deeply engrained as the way to be attractive... most of these ideals are the result of Americanization of media and advertisements. I could be politically correct and say “Globalization” but that is simply not a genuine representation of what is going on here. It is American T.V. shows, movie-stars, advertisements, and products that have, for the most part, resulted in this push toward Westernized beauty. Shame on the advertising and telecommunication companies who have allowed this to happen. 

Chalao's Birthday!

         I discovered that last Tuesday was Chalao’s birthday thanks to the omnipotent powers of Facebook. I love birthdays. Not my own, but other people’s. Why, you ask? Cake (duh) and the general atmosphere of celebration... a birthday forces everyone to be cheery. Love. It. 

        Needless to say, a cake was a necessity. I had no clue what thai tradition was but I brought a cake. Had I been in the States, I would have made this cake (it is my favorite act of gastronomic creativity... I have taken decorating classes and everything. no lie) but a lack of an oven makes that impossible here. A store-bought cake would have to suffice. Luckily, the local Big C had several options. After some debate, I chose an S&P ‘Black Forest’ cake with dark chocolate trimmings. If you know me, you’ll notice that my choice was hardly altruistic. 

       I think it went over well. He was totally surprised and it was nice to get a few people from the Biology department together to celebrate. It ended up being a very casual and relaxed get together. There was lots of laughter, a healthy dose of cake, and the quintessential air of celebration I love so much.  

Bangkok is for Optimists

There are two ways of experiencing every situation. In Bangkok this is particularly pertinent. It is a city of severe dichotomies; where hyper affluence meets extreme poverty, where modern architecture neighbors tin & bamboo slums, where asian tranquility collides with the hustle-bustle of a mega-city and where culinary delicacies are served side-by side with gag-worthy rarities. Bangkok and dichotomy might as well be synonyms. In order to survive in this city it is a requirement that you view it through rose-colored glasses or else it will leave you limping for the border. Case and point:

It is Monday morning. I am walking to the BTS station, a long, knee grinding trip on uneven sidewalks. A jack-hammer grinds into concrete a mere 3 feet to my right, taxi drivers honk incessantly to my left, I step in dog shit and nearly wipe out banana-peel style, wrenching my neck in the process. The smell of piss emanates from a nearby wall and I watch as a taxi driver adds his aura to the smorgasbord. My eyes burn from the stench of fermenting squid that a food cart is peddling for breakfast, my stomach gurgles and the fruit I ate for breakfast revisits my esophagus. I walk through the throng of people, pushing my way through the throbbing crowd. A sweat breaks on my brow and a wave of claustrophobia pours over me. I emerge from the crowd and look down only to see an armless man begging for change. He clenches a plastic cup in his teeth and nudges it towards the crowd, his face caked with dirt and his shirt tattered. I wonder why the hell I am living in this god-forsaken place. Homesickness pangs surge in my chest, my eyes bristle with tears behind my sunglasses and I take a deep sigh of relief as I step onto the escalator carrying me above all that is wretched in this city.

I could start each day with a thought process similar to that above. Every point detailed is a situation that I have encountered, numerous times, while walking the streets of this city. The combination of them all together would be entirely feasible. If I allowed my mind to grasp and amplify the negativity present in my everyday activities, I would be beyond miserable. But, just as I said before, this city is a living dichotomy and the picture I painted above is a mere half of the equation:

It is Monday morning. I am walking to the BTS station, a refreshing walk in the short-lived morning cool. A broom peddler rings a bell rhythmically with his step and I momentarily step in time with his beat. Moments later I walk by a soi kitchen and catch a momentary melody sung by its owner as she sweeps out her floors and prepares for her first customers. I take a moment to tickle the whiskers of one of the loving soi cats that hold territory along my walk, I have even saved a small morsel of sticky rice to ensure his friendship and compliance. The smell of jasmine wafts from the flower dealer to my left and wreaths of marigolds and roses shimmer in the morning light. I catch a hint of tamarind sauce emanating from a food cart and debate whether I am hungry enough for a second breakfast. I shuffle along with the crowds of people and become humorously aware that I am a head taller than most of the women. Occasionally I catch eyes with a stranger and they flash me a toothy smile. I reach an ebb in the crowd and notice a child playing just inside a store front, giggling as his mother tickles him. I smile to myself and step onto the escalator with a sense of comfort, certain that today will only get better from here.

The above is an idealized example of my thought process. There are times where my mental dialogue is as rosy as the portrait I painted. But, admittedly, there are days where a few negative obsessions creep in. Regardless, I have made a choice to deliberately focus on and foster my positive experiences here. I know that, for me, it is an act of survival. I would emerge from this experience a tattered and broken individual if I allowed myself to obsess over the negative. This is not to say that I don’t see it and allow myself to experience it... I just choose to not focus on it. I only have so much energy to expend participating in the everyday activities of this city, I only have the energy for optimism.

I leave you with two thoughts:

-A modified Aristotle quote: “You are what you repeatedly do. [Happiness], therefore, is not an act but a habit” and

- An excerpt from Max Erhmann’s Desiderata “Be cheerful. Strive to be happy”

4 Weeks ?!

So, I have been here for four weeks as of a few days ago. Crazy! In many ways it doesn’t feel like I have been here that long, but in many more it feels as though I have been here for ages. Cliche, but true.

I don’t want to continue being trite but I do want to acknowledge those folks who have offered me the support necessary to pack up my life, fly halfway around the world, and set up shop.

My Folks- Long story short, they got me to this point. They have been kind enough to suppress the clingy-parent-of-an-only-child-phenomenon to allow me to gallivant around the globe in the name of academia.

Dr. Smith- I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: As my undergraduate research mentor he rocked. He gave me a foundation of knowledge to really, truly appreciate the nuances of working at a lab bench. He also afforded me the space so that I could genuinely learn from my mistakes and the sustained guidance so that I was not intimidated or downtrodden by them. He is an all-around stellar human being.

Laura- best friend Extraordinaire. She puts up with my ridiculousness and has been there for me since I met here. She was optimistic when I was not about the Fulbright application, matched my gleeful screams when the letter arrived, and answered the phone when I called her, minutes before boarding the plane, sobbing so hard I couldn’t actually say anything comprehensible. She is beyond fabulous.

Jimmy- [insert cheesy adoration of significant other here] I easily could, but I won’t. Instead, I’ll share a simple anecdote. Before I left, someone remarked that 10 months was a long time to be separated and they hoped that the time would “fly by” for Jimmy and I. The typical response would be.. “I sure hope so too” but he replied, without missing a beat, “I hope it doesn’t go too fast. I want her to enjoy every minute.” He has supported me, selflessly and without reservation, long before I decided to put 10,000 miles between us.

And then, there are the countless number of people whom are friends and strangers who have offered tid-bits of wisdom, encouragement or, in some cases, a much needed smile. Thanks to you all.

Friends in High Places

This past weekend was a blast. Hands down, simply wonderful.

I owe most of its excitement to the presence of several Mercer friends and colleagues in Bangkok. These are Mercer graduates (most of them graduated in May) who are teaching English at various schools throughout the city. Coming here, I wasn’t sure about the feasibility of us even seeing each other with any frequency as Bangkok sprawls for miles and has a population of just over 10 million people. I didn’t foresee that there would me much interaction outside major holidays or school breaks. Turns out that through the efficiency of the public transport system, we can hang out quite easily, especially on weekends when our schedules are very nearly free.

As I mentioned before, this weekend was simply fabulous. Friday night the Mercer folks had their first full paycheck to celebrate. We headed to a club in the RCA district called Route 66, clearly foreigner friendly. The cover was reasonable and was actually just a pre-bought drink from the bar. A celebratory mood was evident as there was lots of dancing and laughing. Thai clubs are interesting in that a dance floor, something one would expect to be in every American club, is often absent. Groups cluster around tall tables or corner couches and merely bob to the beat. Luckily, this group is not afraid not afraid to break away from the norm. We danced our clearly American selves into wee hours of the morning when we parted ways.

Friday night was great fun, but the real treat came on Saturday evening. We ate an early dinner at Cabbages and Condoms, a restaurant that directs its profits to helping curb population growth and the spread of HIV. The restaurant atmosphere is divine, a true garden retreat amidst the busy city, and the food is locally sourced and quite tasty. (And it has an English menu embellished with pictures... score!) From dinner we made our way towards one of Bangkok’s storied SkyBars. I was quite naive as to how incredible this experience would be. From our taxis we entered a very chic building. Door attendants greeted us and we were directed, by a continuous stream of attentive service people, to the elevator. The elevator was an “express” and whisked us the the 64th floor where more service people met us at the door. The hallways were lined with incredible orchid arrangements. 2” ft diameter globes of pink, yellow and orange blooms so dense it was hard to believe that they were just flowers. Towering glass doors opened to a grand staircase which led down to the open air restaurant and bar. Stunning would be a grave understatement. Atop one of the tallest buildings in the city, the Sirocco Skybar affords breathtaking (and I mean BREATHTAKING) views of the cityscape and river. Looking out, it was hard to believe that I was a first hand witness to such beauty. The atmosphere was laid-back but very, very luxe. A liive jazz played, LED mood lighting illuminated the bar in an ever-changing rainbow of colors, and the service was spot on. I ordered a drink that I normally would have considered hideously overpriced... but I was standing on the 64th floor at a world renowned restaurant/bar, I was willing to pay my dues. I sipped my Mojito and reflected on my position. Here I was, literally, on top of the world, surrounded by good people, pursuing a lifelong dream and at a moment in life where I was utterly content, both on a micro and macro level. I really couldn’t ask for more.

The Land of Smiles

Everywhere I walk in Bangkok people smile at me. Coming from a small town, I grew up smiling at strangers... mostly because it is hard to meet a stranger when your hometown was as minuscule as mine. I smiled at plenty of strangers in Macon but the realities of urban living jaded me to the habit of smiling at EVERY person I encountered. I slowly became one of those emotionless, blank stares walking down the sidewalk. It wasn’t that I was unhappy (usually it was quite the opposite) it was just that smiling in an urban environment often invited unwelcome attention. I would often smile at people only to have them give me a quizzical stare or, in some cases, a frown in return. Furthermore, I didn’t want the cat calls of construction workers or passing cars. Nor did I need to hear the unsolicited commentary men I passed on the sidewalk who assumed my smile was a form of flirtation when, in my mind, it was a mere nicety. I slowly subdued my smile for the sake of practicality and, sadly, safety.

Well, I am here to say that my smile is slowly creeping back into my daily commute. When you hear of Thailand being called the ‘Land of Smiles’, there is no exaggeration. Now, don’t assume that people here just walk around with a grin plastered to their face, my point is that thais know how to reciprocate a smile. Every single random smile I have flashed has been met with a stranger’s. Every single one. People smile at me and I freely smile back. So far, I have yet to feel as though my smile is being interpreted as anything beyond the kind pleasantry that I intend it to be. In short, it is refreshing not to have to put on a glum face to meet the world.