Signing out...

Ok so this moving out thing doesn't seem to be working but I have to make it work just the same. How does one create a photo album?!? I started out being intimidated by the entire blogsphere and still am. It's a mystery why I want to complicate my life by taking on a more 'advanced' blog site.

Only friends from my office (back in Manila) are cheeky enough to say I probably have "too much time in my hands to blog" :) I say it keeps me sane. And grounded. That there's more to life than work (which yes, definitely, I am grateful for).

So hope to bump into you at http://pattychronicles.multiply.com/. Still under construction though.

Over and out.

Preparing to move out and multiply

On my 30th blog (whoohoo!) I'm announcing plans to move out of this site. A bit unsettling because I'm already used to this set-up. I feel like there's more flexibility in terms of customising the layout, fonts and all this sort of stuff.

I want to share more photos though, hence, the decision to move out which I'm unable to do here. Yes, it took me months to admit it's time to pack up and go.

I'll leave you with this (second to the) final shot. It was taken forty thousand feet (or so) above sea level at the break of dawn on my way from Europe back to Asia. Yes, I purposely woke up, amidst interrupted sleep and all, just to watch the sunrise. It's always a beautiful sight to behold the start and end of a day from this perspective. How often does one literally catch rainbow colours splashed on clouds that collectively look more like "frozen" turbulent sea?

Ok, poetry aside, I'll let you know once my new space is up and running. Still under construction. Ciao bellos!

Discovering a new side to Bangkok: quick trip to the hospital

Just got back from the Bumrungrad International Hospital (Sukhumvit) to have my hand sutured. Accidentally cut the base of my left index finger with a meat cleaver this morning!

Apart from profuse bleeding which I've never seen before live, I kept wondering why I was not feeling any pain --- except whenever the wound was inspected. Must have been my adrenaline running and/or the angels I asked God to send to heal my wound quickly! Hahaha :)

Past injuries must have taught me how to stay calm in situations like these. I was trying hard not to laugh when I found myself trying to calm down the reception staff, Khun Sarin, who went up to my apartment to check my wound. I asked her to sit down when I thought she was about to faint at the sight of blood gushing out and simply instructed her step-by-step what to do: clean my wound with antiseptic, cover with balls of cotton to absorb the blood, tape with plaster while I put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. She was to hail me a cab to bring me to the nearest English-speaking hospital while I dress up to leave (another challenge altogether!).

Suffice it to say, true to its reputation, the hospital I went to had a very able and efficient staff with very good facilities. In between negotiations to cut down the number of stitches and whether to suture with local anaesthesia or not, they managed to close up the wound with 7 stitches that can come off in 7 days. The doctor, Dr. Weerapat, was surprised when I asked if I could watch him suture my wound since the affected area was already feeling numb at that point (I actually felt the first few stitches). I've always wanted to know how that looks like in real life. I don't know why he asked me if I was a doctor. I sat up and watched but he stopped sewing onto my skin then he just gently asked me to lie down. Fine. I wonder why he didn't let me watch. One of my doctors before, Dr. Wang, didn't mind if I watched him take out the stitches from my knee (when I had my ACL surgery). Maybe because Dr. Wang knew me well enough not to get queasy over these things.

Nevertheless, regardless of nationality, I felt again the same almost awe-struck gratefulness to my doctor and the medical staff who attended to my wound as I've always felt towards others in the past.

Most people I know hate the smell of hospitals because it reminds them of death, suffering and despair. I don't know why I've always liked the smell of hospitals. Maybe because it reminds me of healing, renewal and hope.

Thank God for doctors!

Blog quiz mirrors on the wall

I was reading a friend's blog and saw a few facets to her as she shared results of blog quizzes she had been taking. It suggested that if she were a superhero, she'd be Wonderwoman, a true Harry Potter fan and that she is very selfless (to a fault) judging from her bathroom habits.

So I decided to take one of those quizzes she passed on (I won't tell which one) and suprisingly went on a mindless binge taking one after another. I'm almost certain half of it isn't true. Here's the result of a predicatable question: How daring are you?

It's interesting to see how a computer can say the kind of sandwich, mixed drink or bikini I could be. The topics span from esotheric-philosophical to downright silly. I went LoL when it churned out if I had a bad girl reputation or not. If you knew me you would know what I am if I were ;)

Here's the link to the blog quiz if you're interested: http://www.blogthings.com/howdaringareyouquiz/

One Reason for yellow Mondays & happy stray dogs

Only a fool will miss the obvious fact that this nation absolutely adores its longest reigning monarch (apparently also in the world), HM King Bhumibol Adulyadej. Much has been reported about his image (voluntarily) plastered all over the country and Thais wearing yellow on Mondays (Monday is the day the King was born and yellow is the colour for Monday), clearly to pay tribute to him --- no doubt for his immense contribution to this country.

As an outsider looking in, it's impossible not to admire this influential and well-loved leader. It's fascinating to see how 'real' his relationship is with his people. It's almost like that of a grandfather with a grandchild --- the closest analogy I could think of is that of the fondness devout Roman Catholics have for the late Pope John Paul II.

The King's influence on the Thai people is so far-reaching that I shouldn't have been surprised to find out that one of the reasons stray (native) dogs thrive in this country is because the King is a strong supporter of these 'un-pedigreed' canines. I had mentioned previously how it amazes me to see the chubbiest dogs in this country. And it's quite a common thing to see groups (packs) of stray dogs lazily sprawled on pedestrian lanes with no care at all if you notice them or not. Back in my country, the stray dogs I've seen are not only the most pitiful scraggly creatures one would ever find. You also see this 'praning' (paranoid) expression on their faces as though they were about to be punished (butchered?). I know it's weird but try looking hard at one and you'll see what I mean. But here in the Land of Smiles, you will find the most contented and relaxed stray dogs. They are as unperturbed as their local human counterparts.

What has the King got to do with it?

The King is a dog-lover who promotes caring for the native variety. Testament to the principle of 'mahalin ang sariling-atin' (love your own). He has a dog named, Thong Daeng, who's actually a popular figure in this country owing perhaps to the book the King wrote about this dog. To quote Wikipedia:

"Thong Daeng, a female copper-coloured dog, is one of the pets owned by King Bhumibol Adulyadej of Thailand. Bhumibol adopted Thong Daeng in 1998 from the litter of a stray dog that had been taken in by a medical center he had recently dedicated. Her name means "copper" in Thai.

"Bhumibol called her "A common dog who is uncommon," and in 2002 wrote an affectionate biography of her titled "The Story of Thong Daeng". The book is commonly referred to as a parable on many social topics. For instance, the King wrote that "Tongdaeng is a respectful dog with proper manners; she is humble and knows protocol. She would always sit lower than the King; even when he pulls her up to embrace her, Tongdaeng would lower herself down on the floor, her ears in a respectful drooping position, as if she would say, 'I don't dare.'

"All the names of the dogs owned by the King start with the word "Thong" (lit. gold).

"The book instantly sold out in Thailand. Riot-like scenes unfolded in shops as customers wrestled and fought with each other over the last few items. Since demand was so high, the book became an esteemed gift. Shortages of the book had to be kept down by multiple reprints."

Here's a copper-coloured stray dog in Koh Samed who struck the perfect pose to get us to feed him our left-over dinner. At nagpadala naman kami (and we let it get to us)!

Vatican City

A trip to the Vatican City forged my sentiment about Michelangelo being one of the greatest, if not the best, visual artist of all time. I personally feel his frescoes at the Sistine Chapel, which took him 4 years to finish, encompass his genius as a painter. Here is a self-portrait within “The Last Judgment” which he said depicts exactly how he felt after he finished, which was “very exhausted, like creeping out of (his) own skin.” When our tour guide explained this unusual self-portrait, I couldn’t help thinking how he could prefer to immortalise himself in such a “negative” way. It was only when I actually saw the Sistine Chapel for myself, which was stagerring to say the least considering it was work “he accepted reluctantly, because his only real love, then as in all his life, was not painting but sculpture,” that I began to understand why he felt so “spent.”

Later on, readings consistently revealed the same “reluctant” if not almost “resentful” feelings he had about this famous fresco. “This was due not only to the sheer size of the surface that he had to cover with frescoes (some 500 square meters) and the complex design of the whole work, but also to the extremely uncomfortable position in which he had to work, and the poor lighting, which made the task even more difficult. During all these years Michelangelo had gradually become more unsociable, bad-tempered and irascible…he was, as we put it today, a ‘difficult’ person, but in fact he was only giving vent to the nervous tension inside him.”

Unfortunately I don’t have photos to share of the Sistine Chapel or other paintings for that matter. Either I was scared of our tour guide who admitted she felt “defiled or slapped whenever tourists flash their cameras” or I genuinely felt I needed to give my proper respect by refraining to do so. It’s probably in between both.

I don't know if it's because I don't ‘respect’ sculptures as much as paintings --- in my mind, sculptures are probably less sensitive to light as paintings. I could be wrong --- but there I was amongst throngs of people who clicked away (still mindful of my tour guide's sentiments who didn't seem to mind). So here are a few things I took. I have so many other stories behind each piece but I don’t want to bore you with the details. So I’ll just hide behind the statement, “pictures speak a thousand words."

Milano – Italian Cuisine and Coffee 101

In contrast to my disappointment at not being able to explore more of the city, I found that the most tastefully satisfying meal I had during this trip was in Milan. An Italian colleague brought us to this slick ristorante where I had my dose of seafood pasta and my first formal instruction (later to be consistently stressed, reminded and added on by dozens of other after him) on the DO’s and DON’Ts of Italian cuisine:

1. DO follow the order of when you should be having your anti-pasti, pasta, secondi, etc. DON’T have things mixed up like having your main dish served with your salad, very much unlike us Asians (consistent across countries) who like everything all in the ‘middle.’ This explains the discrimination, I mean, the dagger looks we sometimes got from waitresses in the earlier cities we visited. They must have thought, “What barbarians!”
2. DO have coffee after dolce (desert), pure and unadulterated (espresso as we foreigners call it) unlike the kind you find in Starbucks --- that coffee Italians call “Americano.”
3. DO finish every platter of food you’re served. It is an insult to the chef (usually also the ristorante owner) if you DON’T. Again, unlike this Asian trait where we often leave a piece of every dish (served in the ‘middle’) --- aka in Filipino as the hiya (shy) piece --- and bashfully ask the others if no one is taking it before finally consuming.
4. DO take coffee (espresso) at the right time which is after 10 am. DO take capuccino during breakfast before 10am because you still have the rest of the day to digest it since it’s relatively heavy (with cream) compared to the typical coffee
5. DO have the option to take coffee with milk --- this they call macchiatto.
6. DO enjoy your meal slowly. Every delectable piece (and they are delectable) is prepared very carefully by the chef or the cook (who would oftentimes be their mother, wife if not themselves). That’s why, as practically every Italian I talked to professes, McDonald’s or Starbucks DON’T and will not work in Italy (ok, might work for the really unfortunate masses, they say) because fastfood, to them, is simply anti-culture.

Taray!

Venice & Rome - Another blast from the past

These I quickly jot down just so I don’t forget. I’m beginning to discover that this whole blogging phenomenon has much to do with not wanting to forget. While I can just grab a pen and write a journal, coming to this space has become a more preferred channel to release whatever it is that’s clogging my mind. Yes, I am “declogging.” It’s like I can’t move on until I write it. I know it’s bizarre but it’s there anyway. Maybe because I know if I were in Manila I would have somehow told you about it (even if you didn’t want me to) and shown you all the snaps I took with pasalubong (souvenir) to go with them. And so I go back to this.

It’s been almost a month since Italy but just to seal off all the anecdotes on this trip, I’ll swiftly run you through some of the highlights on Venezia and Roma. Again, the charm of these cities, best discovered walking, is in their ability to intantly transport you to a different era altogether. Whether its in a 70's James Bond film or a masquerade ball in the 1600's, it still made for much time travel.

Venezia

• Labyrinthine passages to get to Piazza San Marco - where you find its basilica and square (piazza) as beautiful as anyone else has attested. Locals said it should take us less than an hour to get from Piazza San Roma (where we could just take a boat) to this must-see cathedral. It took us 3 hours to find San Marco inspite of all the supposed directional signs. Venice is one massive maze you can easily get lost in (had been forewarned in Lonely Planet earlier on). Yet this seeming deliberate attempt to ‘lose’ you is “forgivable” because you just want to savour the beauty of this uniquely captivating maritime city. You know instinctively that you won’t find anything like it in the world.
• Art: Venetian masks and costumes, Murano glass, Burano lace
• Boat rides on the Grand Canal to and from Piazza San Roma to Piazza San Marco that Noi and I quietly burst into song (discovered we could sing some songs in harmony)!

Roma

• The late evening instant tour of ancient ruins and tourist sites (Palatino or Roman Forum, Mouth of Truth, Colloseu, Fontina de Trevi) by the hotel driver upon our pick up from the airport

• 3-hour afternoon walk around the city with office colleagues (activity part of work) which included visits to the Fontina de Trevi, Piazza Venezia (Capitol), Piazza Navona, The Pantheon, Piazza de Spagna (Spanish Steps)

• Orange tree-lined streets. The first time I've seen orange trees in my life!

• Discovering the Palatino (Roman Forum) and Colloseu on foot with Noy – even saw a newly-wed bride and groom walking by the arch beside the Colloseu

• The Vatican City – the tears just started to fall. I couldn’t explain it. I’ve been to other ancient sites, temples and museums which all showcase the richness of their respective cultures and faith. But the Vatican City, I was telling my mom, is a living monument of how truly our God rocks. It’s a gigantic storybook narrating the fall of man and his redemption. And best of all, a loving God who reaches out to fallen man. Christianity, it’s been said, is the only religion that has its God reaching out to its puny creation. I was so overwhelmed at all the things seen and heard at the Vatican. My jaw-dropping moments at the Uffizi or Accademia (Florence) are incomparable.

"Chillax" in Koh Samed

Pause muna from all the Italy talk.

I finally hit the beach --- sorry, I hardly count Hua Hin because it feels to me more like a seaside resort like Punta Fuego or Puerto Azul than a 'real' beach like Bora or Palawan--- after 18 months pining for one! Last weekend, with work issues coming out of our ears, a couple of us just decided to drop everything and go to Koh Samed (pronounced koh' sa-met'). Ok, in typical loserly fashion, I carried along my security blanket (aka my laptop) with the hopes of finding inspiration to go through my unread mails but we all know that didn't happen, right?! I know, I never seem to learn...

Anyhow, if you miss Boracay (or your favourite white sand beach party place), Koh Samed is a good place to start since it's only a 2.5 nerve-racking drive away from Bangkok plus another 15 minute nerve-racking speed boat ride to get into the island. It felt like what Bora might have been like 20 or so years ago. Some firsts for me in Koh Samed: First beach bumming outside my country and first henna tatoo! I have a sun design on the small of my back!

Unlike previous trips to the beach, this was my most unplanned and relaxed one. I finally understood and embraced the true meaning of "chillax!" I remember a hard-nosed advertising account director once tell me "masarap pala tumunganga sa beach" (it's apparently enjoyable to blankly stare at the beach). I didn't really make-tunganga much but I spent a good deal just vegitating, getting unprofessionally-massaged (at a good price) and people-watching. I especially enjoy watching chubby, stray dogs --- Thailand has the chubbiest stray dogs...I find it very odd...I think it has much to do with its benign, non-violent, animal-loving religion/culture --- fetch frisbees, soccer balls and unabashedly rush against waves. Now that's one sight that frequently made me tunganga.

Jolina, Whit and Carlo introducing me to the concept of “chillax"

Firenze - Blast from the Past

The first Italian city I set foot on was Firenze (Florence). What began as a journey towards the cradle of the Renaissance movement fascinatingly became a surreal trip down memory lane: readings, lectures and exams in school as well as late-night conversations over barako coffee and some bibingka (native dessert) with my Mom and Tita Luchi (a bonafide artist) on related topics. I couldn’t help acquiring a newfound appreciation for my teachers in art, literature, history, even music and Christian Life (religion)...more distinctly Miss Windor’s almost nagging reference to the “grandeur of Rome!" Back then, my classmates and I annoyingly thought, "what the fuss was all about!" It was only years after did I actually wholeheartedly agree with my high school English teacher on this count, as I walked through Firenze and watched storybooks, encyclopedia and still slide shows from a distant past come alive!

The Uffizi Gallery had my mouth gaping from start to finish. From Byzantine paintings of Madonnas and Children to influential works of Filippo Lippi (siya pala si Fra Lippo Lippi…all this time I thought that was just the name of an 80’s band!) to the ‘greater’ (or more famous…amongst trying-to-be-art-enthusiasts like yours truly) masterpieces of Botticelli, El Greco, Da Vinci, Raphael and, of course, Michaelangelo! Several of my companions and I had become instant fans of Michaelangelo after seeing his major works in Florence and Rome.

I was fortunate enough to have prebooked a guided tour of The Uffizi which allowed me to bypass queues that took hours to get into the museum. When we reached the Botticelli room, curiously there were long benches in the middle of the room. I suddenly understood why when I stood in front of “The Birth of Venus” and later on “La Primavera” My knees turned into jello when I saw these great pieces that I literally sank into a bench as I quietly admired the paintings. They had the same effect on my other tour groupmates. Our tour guide said, “Oh, don’t worry. We get that a lot. I think that’s why they have these benches. Take your time.”

My next and greater heart-stopping episode was at the Galleria dell'Accademia. By this time, I had rejoined Trang, Noy and Noi. Just when we thought we were getting the hang of and have had enough of Florentine artworks, we enter this room that had us screeching to a full stop. As in we halted for probably a good 5-10 minutes, 50 meters away from the legendary Michaelangelo sculpture of “David!” It’s not like we agreed “Ok let’s stop right here.” No, its perfectly imperfect beauty (David’s head and hands are disproportionately bigger than the rest of his body) simply demanded for a respectful, speechless pause. As we slowly approached this amazing piece of marble, we saw a number of “draft Davids” on both sides of the corridor.

I kept asking my friends, “How long will it take you to create something like that (the ‘final’ David) from a single slab of marble?!?” Initially, none of them would answer. Eventually, Trang exasperatedly said, “Forever!!!”

Me? Never. And Michaelangelo? Well, it only took him 2 years to sculpt David into perfection.

(Also check out Trang's blog on the same, entitled "David")

Breathless

I was describing to an Italian colleague how I felt my heart stop so many times mostly in absolute wonder of his country's glorious beauty, frequently having left me (and my Southeast Asian girl friends Trang, Noi and Noy) totally breathless.

It's only now that I realise the flight from Bangkok to Frankfurt (connecting flight) provided an ominous sign of what was up ahead. How often does it happen that ones' plane suddenly stops by, dead of night, at a place like Delhi, India to entrust a passenger suffering a heart attack to medics?! It happened with mine.

#1 Our whole trip had been dotted with anxious moments running after trains, boats, shuttles and tours, sometimes with heavy baggages in tow. The most excruciating dash was the walk from Piazza San Roma (Venice) to the train station which included 3 bridges (cummulatively worth as many steps as those of the "Spanish Steps" in Rome) to catch the train from Venice to Milan for me and Noi (to Rome for Noy and Trang). That's experiencing back-packing first-hand, with laptops to boot!

#2 Authentic Italian food and the concept of Slow food vs. Fastfood

#3 Coffee and the proper time for capuccino or espresso (as the rest of the world calls it), otherwise Italians just call it coffee

#4 Gelato

#5 Beautiful cities. Firenze (Florence), Venezia (Venice), Milano (Milan) and Roma (Rome)

#6 Beautiful, fashionable men (ages 12 to 92) who seem to have a strong appreciation for Asian ladies. Check out a hilarious account on this topic at Noi's blog (entitled "The Barbaric Invasion")!

Details on food and cities to follow. Ciao!

Bellisimo Italia!

Buon giorno! Here in beautiful, beautiful Italy now for work. Even if we try not to, it's inevitable to soak up its fabled rich culture.

Arrived in Rome late last night and was instantly psyched to see the Trevi Fountain (amongst other ancient sites) enroute to our hotel!

Overcoming shopping jitters and more food finds

Shopping. Thanks to friends who insisted that Jatujak (or JJ or Chatuchak) was an absolute must for them to come over to Bangkok, I wouldn't have re-discovered the wonders of this shopping destination. Recent reviews (and personal experience), have led me to believe the Weekend Market is starting to lose its plebeian appeal.

And for a non-shopping enthusiast like myself (notice, this is the first time I've written about shopping...in a place like Bangkok!), I felt brushing sticky shoulders through sweltering heat and a confusing mixture of incense, salted fish scent and exotic fragrances was not worth all the trouble.

Fortunately, Marla, whom I consider to be the shopping expert amongst us girls, managed to make it a rule that we get ourselves to Chatuchak during the first hour, ensuring we're out by noontime. Needless to say, the results were as fabulous as most tourist guide literature promise: great finds at great bargains.


Likewise, I finally discovered MBK (Mah Boon Krong) to be a good place to find, as most testify, clothes, bags, etc. I usually go there for home stuff but now know I can get more than that. Yes, after half a year in this city!

* * *

Food. One of the greatest highlights of my friends' trip here is the food tripping. Are you even surprised? From trying out different supposedly "high-so" (local slang for sosyal) places, according to Thai locals, like Baan Kanitha...
...to simply hanging out at my place. Fortunately for us, Roy loves to cook and cooks well, too. This was the first time I actually saw my friends wash dishes. Nice to see their more domesticated side. But sorry, Heids, we didn't get to try the street food. Next time.

Laundry Business

My friend Roy left a short story on my laptop last Thursday. Not only does he own and manage a laudromat (with Marla) back home but he also writes! I don't know if it was because he was bored stiff with all our female chatter but he simply decided to quickly type up a short story and leave it on my computer. Tell me, how often does anyone give you a short story?! :)

Amidst a tight schedule the next day, I couldn't help unravelling my 'present' entitled "John's Laundry and Redemption Center." Okay, I thought, this must be partly the story of his life. Interesting...

To my surprise, it made for a very appropriate Good Friday message.

* * *

John's Laundry and Redemption Center
Somewhere in this city sits a little laundry. It’s rather small, just a fifteen square meter deal, and yet, the loads it takes can border on the ridiculous... (FULL STORY)

MSR drops into town

My high school friends of over 20 years, aka the MSR, just spent the Holy Week here in Bangkok with two of them, Heidee and Marla (with husband Roy) having flown back to Manila this afternoon, and Jika (with husband Mike and son Joshua) flying back on Tuesday.

No, MSR does not stand for some chick squad spun off an 80's version of "Mean Girls." It's an acronym Jika and I coined after picking up an ad agency habit of submitting Weekly Status Reports to clients. After college, the Monthly Status Report (MSR) was launched amongst the four of us --- catch up with each other every month --- which has amazingly persisted to this day. To my knowledge, the only times any of us had missed an MSR (if at all) was whenever something absolutely unavoidable happens like giving birth or relocating to another country for work. Yes, even in between travels and honeymoons, we still manage to see each other.

With my recent posting, I've obviously missed out on a couple of MSR's. It was really such a treat having all of them over (complete attendance!) at the same time. They were apparently planning to come here during my birthday but my parents had that covered. Hence, they came the next soonest time possible they could all come together. The other blessing? Good Friday (6 Apr) was also a national Thai holiday (Chakri Memorial Day) so I got to maximise the time I had with them.

Here with Heidee, Jika and Marla during my despedida (send-off) dinner last year at Fire Lake Grill in Tagaytay (Philippines).
More on the MSR visit...

Taken for a (Tuk tuk) Ride...

What we had intended to be a necessary trip to the Royal Grand Palace ended up to be a hot and humid tuk tuk ride around the "old city" (felt like how a foreigner might feel inside our own Intramuros). Upon reaching the gates of the palace at noontime, we were stopped by "officials from the tourism office" to say we can't enter the premises until 2:30pm because of some Buddhist ritual going on (first time I've heard of that). Nevertheless, we were referred to a tuk tuk driver assuring us that for only THB 20, we can go to other historical spots including a "quick stop" to some lapidari.

Long and short of it, we did pay only THB 20 alright seeing the less-than-beautiful-side of this city, passing by the Temple of the Golden Buddha...

...gaping at gemstones and jewelry in some lapidari, only to miss the main event itself --- the Royal Grand Palace! Apparently the tuk tuk drivers get a cut of THB 100 for every purchase made in the shops they unwittingly slip the tourists into in between palace and temples. Ours even wanted to bring us to several other shops before going to the palace so he could get a few liters of petroleum for free if he brought us there. I firmly declined. Ano pang makikita namin (What else will we see) if he did?! At best, I got to show the Golden Reclining Buddha to my parents.
To top it all off, we couldn't find a metered cab to take us back to my apartment downtown. Going to the palace, we paid the cab driver THB 120. On the way back, we had no choice but to accept a THB 300 flat rate, reason being traffic downtown is extremely bad on Saturdays. Okay...but guess what? The driver gets us back in half the time it took us to reach the palace! Unbelievable.

This happened on my parents' last day before flying back home. What a fitting end. I should have trusted my Bangkok Survival Guides' advise on tuk tuk's. My Mom aptly commented, "All that glitters is not gold."

Oh well.

Back in Baipai...

Yes, my parents and I immersed ourselves deeper into Thai cuisine at the Baipai Thai Cooking School. I mentioned before that I was pleasantly surprised at how they were such troopers during their entire visit --- expected this from my Dad but I have to give my Mom a lot of credit. In the midst of complaints to our Thai teacher that she'd rather be eating the food we're supposed to be cooking (when the dishes started to get more 'complicated'), not only did she manage to cook her own set perfectly but is, as of this writing, already recreating it now that she's back in Manila. My Mom would have most likely graduated valedicatorian in Baipai if we were graded! Good thing we weren't. She rose up to the teacher's challenge: "This is not a restaurant but a cooking school. You're not here to eat. You're here to learn to cook." Taray.

If there's anyone, however, who seemed to have had the most fun, I would think it was my Dad. This was the first time I saw him smiling ear-to-ear out of all the snaps I took while they were here. Here are my proud parents with the Goong Sauce Ma-kam (Prawin in tamarind sauce) they cooked:

Other dishes we learned to cook that day: Gai Hor Bai Toey (Chicken wrapped in Pandanus Leaf)

Som Tam (Papaya salad) --- Very different from our own achara (pickled papaya). This is one of my favourites. I could eat it everyday!

Gang Pehd Ped Yang (Roasted Duck in Red Curry) --- lives up to its being Royal Thai food. Not the easiest thing to make because there's just so much that goes into it.

Pachyderms through Jungle & High Water

For me, the best part of this Kanchanaburi trip was riding on an elephant through a jungle and the River Kwai (Kwae Noi --- small river) itself!

Our elephants were up to their ears while wading through the river. I don't know if it was sheer boredom that drove her but mine had the audacity (humour?) to keep squirting water at me while on the river. Here's my dame in action.

My parents on their pregnant elephant (apparently mine was too).

This is the Mon village we passed through. The Mon people is a minority group that lives around the Sai Yoke Elephant Camp and make their living tending to the animals.




In these parts, it isn't unusual to see baby elephants accompany their moms while taking tourists on their backs. And yes, they trek the whole nine yards including swimming through the river! We thought that must have been very difficult for the babies but apparently, according to our tour guide, the river is their favourite part of the hike. She has seen a baby elephant refuse to get out of the river that her mom had to start pushing her up the riverbank. In response, the baby sprayed water on her. Parang tao!

* * *

Last quick cuento. While bamboo-rafting on the river, lo and behold, we saw a Kingfisher! We saw something similar to this.