Myanmar-Thailand Border: Photo Essay

Nelsonelson.com has been updated to include the Myanmar-Thailand Border photo essay, the final product of my time living in the region.

Erdem and his family

Erdem and his family were a hub of generosity in the Turkish countryside. Erdem stops his red Golf along the side of the road, and greets us with a beer; an offer we gladly accept along with the cooling air. The weather is hot and dry, the past two days the landscape has been dry desert land with bush scrubs for the consumption of freely roaming goats and cows. Along the roads holler trucks carrying freshly dynamited rock for road construction closer to the Bulgarian border. We counted 11 trucks per minute speeding through a town now suffocating from dust.

Erdem is returning home and takes us for a ride into the Turkish forests. He LOVES Turkey, and thinks it is the Number One country. I have met many who claim their country is number one, passionate pride I am happy to share. Two herds of goats trek through the forest, goats with wise goatees and necklaces or bells marking their ranks. There is a restaurant in the forest with a fish breeding area; an articifical concrete stream bed that excites Nels much.

Ciklilli is the town of which Erdem is so proud. Here his family has a long history, here his father farms and Erdem runs the wheat exporting business. Here he also met his 22 year-old wife, who is carrying a son. Town square has a 823 year old tree and a cafe with tea for a fourth the cost in Istanbul and backgammon. Nels, an avid player, plays a couple of games with the locals, young and old, but must count his losses.

Erdem's family is Muslim, but his mother, a round tub of warmth, is not shy to show her bright red hair with streaks of grey. Her background is Bulgarian-Yugoslavian but moved to Turkey when she was young. Here she runs a fun ship, knitting wool socks by the fire with her mother-in-law a frail old lady with a broken back carrying a smile of reached enlightenment.

The courtyard holds a Turk-Fiat tractor, several robotic farming tools, a small vegetable garden and a picnic table. Erdem lives in the newly constructed top level, furnished tres moderne, fresh from the Ikea catalog with new carpets, new couches, new flat screen, new table, new everything. A home kept lovely and clean, a seven months pregnant wife who waits up for her husband's return stinking of booze. Roles are defined, leaving cafes and bar occupied mostly by males. Nels was the center of attention after Turkey suffered their defeat against Germany 2-3, and entertained a crowd of giggling men with "Ozo purdu osman" meaning "You have a beautiful smile."

During the match, the whole family came for the spectacle, each bringing their offering of food. Erdem's sister has a family of four, her eldest son celebrating his 13th birthday. She brought meat paddies made with red carrot and beetroot, wrapped in lettuce. We eat sitting on the designated eating cloth, from which we also enjoyed a Turkish breakfast of tomatoes, cucumber, cheese, olives and pillowy bread.

There was little language in between and so a great conspiracy was created right underneath our eyes. Erdem and Nels went for a long late night drive, after a day's of alcohol consumption, seatbeltless to Vize the town up from Cikilli. Nels assumed they were greeting friends, while Erdem was actually checking bus timetables, and dropped us off at the stop the following day, driving off while a bus coincidentally pulls up. Earlier we killed some time driving around Cikilli, heading back home to find the garage door opening and the birthday boy with a surprise jumping into the car. I receive a pair of knitted socks and a head scarf. Our goodbyes are heartfelt, and Mother's cheeks carried a waterfall of tears. A family with utmost generosity, who will shortly receive a large package of present from us, the only way we could possibly replensish their genorosity.

Turkey Photographs & Hitchhiking

Ceiling of the Blue Mosque

Interior of Topkapi Palace; Interior of Blue Mosque; Sophia Mosque; New Mosque by night

Our 5 day stop in Istanbul was incredible. Cafes with Turkish tea and backgammon fill the alleys while mosques with missile launcher towers define the skyline. The Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar are worthy visits as well.

Breakfast with Erdem and his family

Knitting with Grandmother; Turkish Mechanics

From Istanbul we ferried up the Bosporus Strait to the mouth of the Black Sea then starting hitchhiking our way along the coast and eventually to the Bulgarian border. Picking up a ride has never been easier; but traveler beware, your ride may have plans of its own! We never encountered any danger or hostility, rather our drivers were more inclined to stop the car/truck at their favorite picnic spot to enjoy a meal or a beer with the welcome foreigners rather than make a direct route.

The first day, after a few short rides, five men in a working van took us for lunch and then out to a gypsy camping spot for drinks. "Tarzan" the camp proprietor carried an ax at his waist and a stick over his shoulder with a fur satchel with all the charm of Andre the Giant. Later, they went 10km out of their way to drop us off at the beginning of a beach trek which led us to a deserted stretch of the amazing Black Sea coast. We slept that night under the stars next to the softly crashing waves.

The following day the level of generosity was doubled if not tripled. Once again, after a few short rides in the right direction, a friendly Turk decides what we are going to do next. Erdem drives a new Volkswagen Golf with an Efes beer between his legs and a six pack at the ready. With business doing well at his bar ("Beer House") and wheat distribution center and a baby boy on the way, he felt on top of the world. The whole afternoon he wined and dined us, driving from picnic to restaurant to bar to cafe to his warehouse and finally to his home. The list of friendly introductions and full vessels of food and drink would not fit in the blog format. Suffice to say, Eline and I were both deeply moved by our time in his town and with his family.

And on to the next day! Breakfast and coffee with Erdem, then again to the road. This time, it was the project manager for a new highway to Bulgaria that swept us off our vector and into his private life. We spent many hours at Tempo Company headquarters enjoying tea and conversation before being helpfully dropped off at the Turkish-Bulgarian border.

For the first time since Istanbul the wallet has left my pocket for a room in this Bulgarian beach town. Upon crossing the border, vehicles and buildings are in much more disrepair demarcating a comparatively struggling economy. Bulgaria is a Christian country so women here are free to dress ridiculously in see-through pants and miniskirts, and do so at every occasion presented, even if their figure is not appealing.

Football Riot in Istanbul after Türkiye beats Croatia

Soccer Footbal Riot in Istanbul, Turkey 2008

The first 100 minutes of Turkey vs. Croatia in the 2008 EuroCup were terribly boring, cruising into overtime scoreless leaving Istanbul with a resting heart rate. With less than a minute to go, Croatia thought they nailed Turkey's coffin shut with a goal, but the Red Crescent Türkiye would not rest easy, scoring the tying goal with no time on the clock. After dominating in the penalty kicks, the city exploded into celebration; and we were fortunate to be at the epicenter of the human earthquake, Taxim Square.

Istanbul's Positive Impression

Istanbul sits on the Bosphorus Strait dividing West and East, Europe and Asia. The World House hostel under the majestic Galata tower is providing us with reasonably priced accommodation far from the 'typical' backpacker mecca on the other side of town by the Blue Mosque.

View from World House hostel

Our first impressions of Istanbul have been exceedingly positive. There is a deep working class pride; throughout the narrow cobble stone streets in our neighborhood craftsmen are hard at work in street level shops turning wood and aluminum or building fantastic lamps. They also enjoy sitting streetside in their small locality enjoying strong Turkish tea with cigarettes and conversation. After spending the morning in the Istanbul Modern, a loaf of fluffy bread with soft white tangy cheese purchased for an aggregate $1.50 was sustaining us when a group of men arriving for afternoon tea were suprised by the foreign intrusion, but nevertheless kindly entertained our presence. Upon leaving, one purchased a liter of fruit nectar and left it on our table as he walked away.

This is the second time we have been treated by spontaneous acts of kindness in our first two days here: last night while strolling by the Sophia Mosque and snapping photos, a three man photography crew asked us to join them for tea nearby. For the next couple of hours the air was full of laughter and cigarette smoke charged by highly caffeinated tea and Mevleviye dancing (whirling dervishes). The language barrier was tall, but paradoxically provided a subject for conversation as we were taught hello "selamin aleykum" and the appropriate response "aleykum selam" amongst many other words and phrases. Afterwards, the posse went riverside for tripod assisted night photography where I could teach them "aperture, shutter, and shutter speed". Check out Firat Okaygun's great Istanbul photography at fotokritik.com (in Turkish).

Turkish Tea

Visit to a Karen Village in the Mae Hongson Valley

Along the curving mountains between Mae Hongson and Pai lies a small Lisu village called Ban Namrin. Lisu is a minority group originating from a northern province named Chang Rai that hugs China. There is a lodgement of small bamboo huts that is run by a Lisu and her German husband, who welcome us like grandchildren to their peaceful hidden estate. It is low season and they only received three guests in May. Amee and Rudi advise us to enjoy a 5 hour walk to Manora, a Karen village.

Early Saturday morning we leave, rain gear in hand, along 2kms of cement after which the road transcends into a muddy dirt road that runs along a river. Playful butterflies dance around us, and blueheaded lizards jump across our path. Sloped farms with tough bamboo fences to keep out trotting cows are worked by groups of women and men. Carrying barrels of pesticides, spraying each field kilometers wide by hand, a barrel at a time. In one field, five groups of three are seeding the field with rice. A man, quick handed, shovels a hole for a couple seeds of rice, which are thrown accurately by his relative, and the third treads behind dragging a thick leaved branch that smoothes the surface of soil. Hard work is done at Ban Look Pa Kor, a Lahu village.

A two-hour ascend takes our breath and the view atop the mountain pass at 1400meter is beautifully 'photographic'. [insert photo]. The path leads away from slopes of agriculture and hardwork, and takes us through a bewildered jungle; a most wild hairdoo.

We meet a group of young men cutting down a tree of two diameters wide with a single axe. The smallest axe head we'd ever seen. An alien tree had twisted itself around the trunk and was sucking out all life out of its mother. Further descending, we met an older man rifle in hand, one almost two meters long. He was walking the jungles with his five hunting dogs. He parted when taking a hidden jungle track through the thick jungle.

Our path is sprinkled with a sporadic presence of cement; often at curviest up- and downhill twists. Empty bags of cement left to be eaten by the earth. Manora is a sparkling gem at the bottom of the pass.

At the school, we present a letter in Amee's handwriting asking for a night's stay. One of the older girls is on the know-how and takes us to an older couple. Opa is delighted to meet us and greets us with a smile of warmth, instead Oma just sighs... The village is made up of 40 families, all Buddhist Karen who speak Pho Karen, not Sa Karen that our Christian Karen student speak. Words do not overlap and our interactions are with gestures, nods and smiles. Opa prepares a pot of delicious hot tea, we drink from cups carved from a bamboo branch.

We shower under the bridge at the edge of the village, to wash away mud and sweat. Upon our return we find a happy gathering at the house; a celebration with Rice Wine Manorita for the return of a son from Chiang Mai.

Opa is the key; he is the only villager who knows the way from Manora to Mae Hongson over the mountains and through the jungle; a four day journey.

Their home is 30 years old and is built high on stilts. A small porch divides the living room and kitchen, with their bedroom. The bathroom is an outhouse, and below we count 3 pigs and a number of piglets. Chicken are kept in baskets in a hut off to the side. Dishes are done outside in peils with water thrown between the cracks of wood planks. In fact, any extra tea, saliva or food scraps are thrown through the crack and provide a party atmosphere for the fatties below.

A rural development project funded by Hitachi has provided a solar panel and battery to every family in Manora. Electricity, thus, is not an issue.

A project sponsored by Hitachi gives each family a solar panel and battery in certain remote villages in Thailand. The community also receives a larger station and battery charger.

In the evening, opa relaxes by the fire and rests a sore knee. A soundful sleep was impossible, our mind trying to place the noises our ears record. Dogs eating out metal pots at the front, drunken brothers returning home. Opa and Oma rise before the sunrise and light the fire. A thick cloud of dew is a lid to the valley but when it opens we begin our journey up the mountain slope, leaving behind a drawing of our of gratitude.

Covet: Solar Bags

Do you need to charge your iPod, camera, GPS, and phone? But you are on a long trek, at a picnic, homeless, or in an area without constant electricity supply? A solar panel bag might be perfect for you. Most bags on the market charge to a battery with USB and 12 volt car-charger ports.

Noon Solar Bags' going price at the moment is around $450 for a bag. They look fantastic mixing old craft processes with new age ideas.

Eclipse Solar Gear makes the Fusion messenger bag sold for a much cooler $190. The style is urban but the panel looks small.

Juice Bags by Esc Outdoors go for $200 and look rugged enough for adventure. Built with a padded laptop sleeve and flexible ballistic nylon solar panels instead of solid panels, this could be a worthwhile solution.

The Generator by Voltaic Systems is the first solar bag powerful enough to charge a laptop. Rather impressive, but looks like carrying the deathstar. A bit expensive at $600. Voltaic also makes smaller and cheaper bags, but they look even worse.

Or, for the DIY-er in all of us, one could buy a flexible 12 volt solar panel and sew it into an existing bag. PowerFilm Inc. manufactures super thin and lightweight solar panels. Silicone Solar Inc. has a diverse line of consumer ready flexible solar panels, and they are waterproof. DIY Instructable on building a solar bag.

Pictures from the Road

Sitting in the palm of perfection. This large Buddha statue graces a mountain's summit near Mae Sariang.




Woman working in a field near Mae Sariang as part of Thailand's Otop campaign.




Staircase in Mae Hong Son ascending towards a Wat.
Panorama of the view from the top.




Tea tasting in Ban Rak Thai, a Chinese tea growing town in northern Thailand.
Another photo of Ban Rak Thai.




Forestry and agriculture research center in northern Thailand.




Photographic.




Guesthouse in Chiang Mai.
Another view of this room.



and many more at my flickr photostream

Tour thru Eastern Europe

View Larger Map

We are flying into Istanbul June 19th to begin tramping across Eastern Europe to be in the Netherlands by August 16th. This is a rough plan seeking refinement and suggestions, especially introductions to acquaintances with extra beds! Eline is using couchsurfing.com to network a friend and a bed in Istanbul. It could prove to be a valuable resource, or a dead end. If it works, there are hundreds of couch surfing affiliates registered across Europe. As for transportation, we are considering buses, trains, hitchhiking, and bicycles. Purchasing a bicycle in a country off of the Euro like Albania would almost certainly be cheaper than buying in the Netherlands and would provide free travel if only a bit slow.

Turkey: Istanbul, Black Sea Shore [$20 entry charge via travel.state.gov]
Bulgaria: Sofia
Macedonia: Skopje
Albania [€10 entry charge via travel.state.gov]
Montenegro
Bosnia-Herzegovina: Sarajevo
Croatia
Slovenia: Trieste
Hungary: Budapest
Solvak Republic: Bratislava
Czech Republic: Prague
Express to Netherlands through Germany, perhaps with stop in Berlin to be with friends.
14 countries in 2 months (8 weeks) :: 7 countries a month :: 1.75 countries a week :: 4 days per country. While this seems very quick, the upswing of the situation will be that no matter where we are when August 14th arrives, in less than two days we can be in the Netherlands by bus or train.

Control your naughty monkey mind

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Chanting in the International Meditation Retreat [photo monkchat.net]

The Mahachulalongkornrajvidalaya Buddhist University of Chiang Mai offers free (*donations suggested) meditation retreats Tuesday-Wednesday overnight. We attended, assessment: professional, somewhat informational, however creepily cult-ish.

The brand-spanking-new Meditation Center, located in the middle of nowhere a half-hour from town, is what I would imagine a Scientology conversion compound to be like. A tall white fence around the perfectly manicured lawn cloisters a squeaky clean assembly hall, dormitory, dining hall, and watch tower (why? why is there a prison-style watch tower?). The landscaping and architecture is too modern and too sterile, leaving the atmosphere of an insane asylum which, when coupled with forty foreigners uncomfortably wearing sexless matching white pajamas with enforced silence, freaked me and many others right out.

Lessons were hit or miss. Before going to the Buddhist-meditation-crazy-person-spaceship, a very intelligent Cambodian monk lectured on the fundamentals of Buddhist philosophy for almost two hours. His interesting and informative discussion of morality, social code, and Siddhartha's life were a highlight of the experience. From the University campus, the forty bewildered Caucasian monkeys were squeezed into four vans and blasted off to another universe.

The five monks with one master gave lessons on the general drift of Buddhism, but I found the analogies and anecdotes un-fulfilling and generic. The way in which the master monk approached his teachings felt more like a missionary attempting to convert his tender flock of foreigners than an educative session on the techniques of proper meditation. That being said, we were introduced to sitting, standing, walking, and laying meditation. Walking meditation was conducted like a slow called dance with exaggeratedly long pronunciation of directions over loudspeaker, "Staaaaaaaaaanding. Staaaaaaaaaanding. Staaaaaaaaaanding. Intending to walk. Left foot gooooooooooooooo, stop. Right foot gooooooooooooooo, stop..."

Practicing walking meditation in creepy white robes.

The master compared the goal of meditation to controlling a wild monkey, "Your mind jumps here and there, thinking about the past and future, just like a naughty monkey going from tree to tree."

If you are interested in experiencing this for yourself, the course is offered each Tuesday-Wednesday from Wat Soun Dok in Chiang Mai. The food is not half bad. More information on the Meditation Retreat Workshop page of monkchat.net

Northwest Thailand Mae Sariang and onwards

Interactive Google Map

Mae Sariang - Mae Hong Son - Ban Rak Thai (Tea Village) - Ban Namrin - Manora (Karen Village) - Pai - Chiang Mai. Details and photos to come later.

Timbuk2 Messenger Bag

Timbuk2 bag on the Minsk

Timbuk2 is a messenger bag manufacturer out of San Francisco. I have been toting their bag around for a while and snapped this shot of it resting on my Minsk. After posting it on Flickr with the appropriate 'timbuk2' tag, I was approached with a $100 gift certificate offer for use of the photograph, no terms & conditions, only written word that I will be credited.

I was happy to take their offer, excited at the opportunity of getting a new bag to replace my old beat up one. Once on their site, however, I found that few bags are sold for under $100, and all bags go for over $100 with shipping. I wrote back asking for a cool $190 to cover a new bag and shipping to Holland, otherwise, am I just being roped in for another purchase?

Another gripe; I emailed this photo directly to the marketing department of Timbuk2 and got no response. Only after opening a Flickr account and uploading the photograph with 'timbuk2' tagged on was I noticed. Strange Web2.0 action.

Nevertheless, it is encouraging to get some attention from the corporate world. Already I am starting to place my consumer goods next to temples and such to frame potential commercial photography.