אתם רואים שם את הקשת מן התקופה הרומית? לא חשוב אבל לידה, קצת שמאלה, ולמטה ממנה, יושב אדם שקנה פירות וירקות לביתו

Greetings from Kanchanaburi, on the banks of the River Kwai. I am having poor luck with internet, so not sure when this is going to get posted.

The quote in the heading is from an Amichai poem, called “Tourists in Jerusalem” which American Jews frequently encounter on their high school summer trips to Israel. In the poem, Amichai describes tourists visiting sites of Israeli loss (Har Hertzel, Yad VaShem) while not interacting with living, breathing Israelis. The redemption will come, writes Amichai, when instead of using a local man as a landmark for spotting an ancient arch, the ancient arch is used as a landmark for spotting a local man.  Unintentionally, I’m sure, Thailand has taken Amichai’s message to heart.

Sukkothai was the seat of the Sukkothai kingdom in the 13^th and 14^th centuries. The old city is covered in ruins that date back six or seven hundred years. You might expect the ruins to be roped off, or covered with plasticene to protect them from the throngs of tourists. You might expect huge information signs, telling you all about the Kingdom of Sukkothai, how many people lived in the city, and the relationship between religion and politics throughout the kingdom. You would be wrong. Aside from a few worn-out signs 100 meters away asking that you not climb on the chedis, you are welcome to walk all over the ruins. And while there is supposedly an audio tour they you can rent which would provide more information on the ruin, I couldn’t figure out where you could rent the audio guide. On Friday I went to the museum about the ancient city of Sukkothai, which spent as much time describing contemporary agriculture as on information about the ancient city.

On the other hand, every time they I have gone hiking, or on my countryside bike ride, tour guides are eager to show off traditional ways of farming, the crops that are grown, and the ways that different hill tribes use bamboo to make their homes. My mom suggested that this is due to a lack of money invested in tourism. While this is certainly a component, I also think that the tourism industry is more interested in showcasing regular contemporary people living their lives, rather than Thai history.

Much of this week has been a comedy of errors. After realizing that Loei didn’t have enough of enough of a tourism industry to help me find a trekking guide, I headed to Chiang Khan, which my guidebook suggested had more of a tourism industry. It did, but it was geared towards the domestic, Thai tourist, and not the English speaking tourist. Still, I borrowed a bike from my guesthouse and went for a ride by the Mekong River, which was pretty. That evening, I was walking around the night market, and I noticed a few young Thai women staring at me. I said hi, and the next thing I know, I have six new Thai BFFs, who are determined to show me around Chiang Khan. They are all college students, studying accounting on a school break. It seems like they pooled their money to rent a hotel room for a few days. Hilarity which only happens with teenage girls ensued: One was enduring a bad break-up, Milk, the ringleader who tried to get me to remember her name by pointing to her breast, wanted to become a supermodel, got me to sing Céline Dion songs with her, I had to pose for pictures with each of them, etc.

I spent Shabbat going back and forth between the pool and my air-conditioned hotel room. Earlier in the week, I had swapped my latest paperback for Phillip Roth’s The Plot Against America at a bookswap adjacent to a restaurant. It did not make for a relaxing Shabbat read. Only in the last hour before Shabbat ended did I discover that my guesthouse had its own hammocks and bookswap shelf.

On Sunday I planned to head to Kanchanaburi. I got a late-morning tuktuk to the bus station, where I was informed that I had to transfer in Tak. Ok, no problem. Upon my arrival in Tak, I learn that there isn’t a bus to Kanchanaburi for another 9 hours. Fortunately, there’s a nice ice cream shop with aircon, WiFi and a power source next to the bus station, so I got a lot of reading done on my tablet. When the ice cream shop closed at 6:30, it was pretty hot, but I made it.

 I arrived in Kanchanaburi at 6 am, and after resting a bit, I visited the Death Railway museum, which is the most Western site that I have seen the whole time that I’ve been here. Tomorrow I have booked a tour to take me to the waterfall and some other local sites, before I head to Bangkok to catch my flight to Delhi where I will be reunited with Leanne and Joanna!

Rudolph, the Pink-Nosed Water Buffalo

Greetings from Loei, Thailand! I arrived yesterday after spending much of the past week in Luang Prabang, Laos. Loei is easily the furthest from the tourist beat that I have strayed, and it shows—absolutely nothing is in English, and I can’t find anyone to book a trek with. As a result, I am heading to Chiang Khan this morning, in the hopes of doing a 2 or 3 day trek up a local mountain later this week.

Back to Luang Prabang…

Luang Prabang sits at the intersection of the Mekong and Khan Rivers. It is gorgeous—far more attractive than the concrete cities that I have encountered in Thailand. I spent quite a bit of time trying to suss out what that I found attractive was original to the city, vs a consequence of colonialism. Brick-lined streets and stucco buildings with well-manicured gardens? Colonialist. Sunsets over the Mekong, and mountain in the middle of the city? Original. Communist Party flags? Well…. The highlight of Luang Prabang were the food stalls at the night market; for $15,000 KIP (<$2) you can fill up a bowl at not one but three different vegan buffets.

The main attraction in Luang Prabang is the Khou Se waterfall, about a 40 minute drive from the city. In classic Southeast Asia fashion, they don’t tell you the full story before you get there. This time, that led to a pleasant surprise, of a moon bear sanctuary that you walk through before you hit the lowest rung of the falls. The sanctuary is run in partnership with an Australian university. I couldn’t quite figure out why it was at the mouth of the waterfall, but it was a fun surprise to stumble upon.

The water in the waterfalls is a bright electric blue, and perfectly clear. In the lower rungs of the fall there are a number of swimming areas. My taxi driver had told me that it would only take me one hour to do the falls, so upon arrival, I thought that the swimming areas were the highlight. Oh, how wrong I was. Four hours later I had climbed to the top of the falls (having not realized that there were stairs on the opposite side, I took the adventurous route), walked another 3 kilometers to explore a cave with Buddhas in it, and then climbed down (this time I took the easy route). At the cave, after paying your entrance fee, you’re given a flashlight, a banana, and absolutely no instructions—there’s no guide, no warnings about where to go or not go—you’re totally on your own, and there’s no regular flow of tourists to keep you company. The cave was deep and pitch black, parts were slippery, and you had to crouch or crawl through various segments. I was totally alone, and absolutely terrified. My first instinct was to sing Tehillim. Then I thought maybe in a cave full of Buddhas that was inappropriate. I switched to the Hamilton and Rent soundtracks, simply so that I could hear the sound of my own voice. To make matters even more entertaining, someone (who I have to assume was a Harry Potter fan), carved a wooden snake into the entrance of the cave.

After my four-hour adventure, I went to the Pak Ou caves, which involved a boat ride across the Mekong River at sunset, and a whole lot of stair climbing. The caves had been used for Phi (a river spirit) worship dating back to the 8^th century, but the King established it as a Buddhist site in the 17^th century. Caves full of Buddhas. While the caves were tall, they were not very deep, and there was natural light coming in from the entrance.

On Wednesday, I went to the Royal Palace Museum, which really threw my colonialism analysis into a headspin. The museum, which used to function as the royal family’s palace is a totally European building, surrounded by carefully manicured gardens. The palace includes a gallery of the former royal family’s cars. While the public spaces are decorated in a Southeast Asian style, the bedrooms just look like normal bedrooms from the 1960s. There are wall hangings depicting the queen’s encounter with Buddha prior to the birth of her son, when she prayed for things like not getting fat when pregnant like the general’s wives, having breasts that stuck out like a lotus, and having eyes as black as a one-year old. I was getting a sense of internalized European beauty standards. After, I went to the UXO (unexploded ordnance) exhibit. I hoped that at least there I would see some signs of anger or resentment towards the country that dropped over 2 million tons of ordnance on Laos. Nope. Just lots of information on the clean-up and education efforts. Ennen pointed out that under a Communist government, public criticism of the western homes of tourists may be curtailed.

On Wednesday evening I went to a storytelling and music performance. The stories were ok—the performer spoke good, if heavily accented English. Of much more interesting note was that I somehow managed to sit next to Anna, a Brovenders alumna who applied to CJNV and is about to spend 6 months interning for the Abraham Fund in Jerusalem. She also knows Annie Dreazen, a DC Minyan person. Because obviously. We chatted for a while, and on Thursday night we went out to dinner at the Coconut Garden, which had a vegetarian tasting menu. While I’ve met lots of people over the course of my time her, usually our conversations are shallow, and only about what we’re doing on our respective travels. It  was so nice to hang out with someone who I could have an ideas conversation with (also helpful for processing the colonialism).

On Friday, I met Rudolph at the Organic Living Farm, which was founded by a Brit to give tourists the opportunity to play in a rice paddy. So much fun! In addition to jumping around in the mud, I got to ride Rudolph, and push him as he plowed the paddy, work on my seeding, threshing and winnowing skills, crush sugar cane, attempt to use bamboo carrying devices to carry rice (it involves swinging your hips a lot), and modeling a stylish wide bamboo hat.

I spent Shabbat at the Chabad in Luang Probing, who had only arrived two months prior. I was the oldest person there by about 4 years. First time I have ever been at a Chabad house here there are no children (the rabbi andhis wife only got married about 10 months ago.) About 40 people there on Friday night and 15 for Shabbat lunch, nearly all Israeli post-army backpackers.

הִנְנִ֨י מַמְטִ֥יר לָכֶ֛ם לֶ֖חֶם מִן־הַשָּׁמָ֑יִם

Greetings from Pak Bang, Laos! I crossed the border from Thailand early this morning, and spent the day on a “slow boat”, floating down the Mekong River. Tomorrow I get back on the boat, and continue to Luang Prabaang, where I will base myself for most of the week. So far the biggest difference between Thailand and Laos: BREAD. Yes, I know, colonialism is bad, but I’m still really looking forward to a croissant tomorrow morning. Thanks France!

On the ride back from the elephant sanctuary last Monday, Chi, our mahout (elephant trainer), mentioned that he was friends with a guide, and could get us a really good deal for a two-day trek. Lizzy, the other American on the overnight elephant trip, and I were both interested. I naively assumed that since our elephant sanctuary was firmly opposed to elephant riding, that the recommended guide would be similarly opposed, and not subject us to the stereotypical elephant riding/gawking at long-necked Karan people/river rafting experience. Well, I was wrong. In his defense, Chi did warn us that there would be elephant riding, and that we should simply not participate.

On the plus side, the hike was incredibly intense, and exactly what I was looking for. The views from the Lahoi village at the top of the mountain were awe-inspiring and vivid. The downside can be summarized by four words: three bro-y Spanish dudes (TBSD). TBSD bring beer on their elephant ride. TBSD carry beer with them on the 2.5 hour uphill hike to Lahoi village, drinking the whole way. TBSD also carry an inflatable beanbag chair, and their own personal supply of extra rice and fried chicken. On arrival at the Lahoi village, TBSD sit on their beanbag chair, drink their fresh beer (acquired from the soft drink tank on the porch), and blast music, disturbing the tranquility that some of us were anticipating. When Lahoi guy comes around selling crafts and cigarettes, TBSD asks if the cigarettes are opium. When TBSD are informed that the cigars are merely tobacco, Lahoi guy goes to get some opium to sell them. On Wednesday morning, TBSD start drinking at 7:30 AM. On the “white water” rafting trip (not really white water), TBSD opt to take off the helmets that they were given. Ringleader of TBSD decides not to paddle, but to play with his camera during the trip, and ignore the raft guide’s directions. After we get stuck on a rock forthe third time that we get stuck on a rock, I resist the urge to dunk TBSD’s camera in the river. When TBSD sees a raft full of women that they are attracted to, they find it appropriate to grab onto the raft, pulling it towards us. Also, at this point TBSD is out of beer, so he makes a point of begging every riverside camp that we pass to chuck him a fresh bottle of Chiang. When we transfer to the bamboo raft, TBSD ringleader decides that he’s the captain of the boat, which involves running up and down the bamboo raft. Obviously, this involves him falling onto my hand.

…Broskys

On returning to Chiang Mai following the trek, I headed to the Chiang Mai bus station in the hopes of catching the last bus to Chiang Rai, only to learn that the 8 PM bus only runs on weekends, and my best bet is the 7 AM bus the following day. No problem, I find a cheap hotel near the bus station, and happen upon a mall next to the bus station. Strangely, the mall is decorated with a British decour: strings of Union Jack banners, multiple red phone booths, quotes on the stairs attributed to Irene Adler and Sherlock Houmes [sic], and a statue of a Buckingham Palace guard. Haven’t figured that one out yet.

I arrived in Chiang Rai Thursday early afternoonish. Since I had been less than impressed with my group trek earlier in the week, I opted to splurge for a private trek on Friday. My guide, Pracit, was much better than the previous guide (for one: he actually talked to me). I got to see rice paddies, fields of pineapple, papaya trees, teak trees, and a newly birthed calf (the owner had plans to eat the placenta). Pracit cooked my lunch of eggs, onion and herbs in a hunk of freshly chopped bamboo tree. The hike wasn’t as intense as my Tuesday-Wednesday hike had been, but overall a much more pleasant experience.

Just before Shabbat, I noticed that my guesthouse had a sign advertising a 2-hour Thai massage in your hotel room. One advance payment later, and I had the best oneg Shabbat plan ever. Truth be told, I’m not a huge Thai massage fan, and didn’t feel the instant relaxation that I usually feel after a Swedish massage, but it was still a fun experience.

On Saturday night, I checked out the Chiang Rai night market. Pretty standard stuff, including a number where several young Thai women dressed in what look like prom dresses and tiaras parade around, lipsyncing to a Thai song. Also, I discovered that Israelis vouch for Thai massage parlors by writing notes in Hebrew complimenting said business, that are then prominently posted in said-massage parlor’s window. I was really hoping that at least one of the six notes in the window would say something like DON’T GO HERE, with the expectation that the owners wouldn’t know what it said, but no such luck.

*Title comes from Exodus 16:14 (last week’s parasha!) “I will rain down bread for you from the sky” 

פיל, פיל, פילפילון

I write this update from the middle of an elephant sanctuary, though it won’t get posted until I’m back in Chiang Mai, with a decent internet connection.

ELEPHANTS! When I went to book my tour, the guesthouse receptionist asked if I wanted an elephant riding tour, or no elephant riding. Having done my research, I knew that riding elephants is ethically questionable, so I went with the non-riding sanctuary. I also went with the two day tour, so I am spending the night adjacent to a Karan village (Karan is one of the hill tribes), and tomorrow I get to spend some more time with adorable pachyderms, the youngest of which is three months old. When we arrived at the sanctuary this morning, we fed the elephants bananas and sugar cane, and watch them drink from the river (interesting fact—for some reason I had always thought that elephants drink through their trunks. They don’t—they use their trunks as a straw, sucking up water, and then squirt the water into their mouths). Also, elephant trunks are hella dexterous. If an elephant saw that I had bananas behind my back, she would reach her trunk behind my back to try and grab them. I also got some shmushy elephant kisses.

Following elephant lunch and human lunch, we stripped down to our bathing suits, jumped into the mud where the elephants were cooling off, and started slinging mud at them. Add this to the list of things that my mother would never do, but SO MUCH FUN. While we rinsed off both the elephants and the humans in a river, I’ve been picking mud out of my ears for the past few hours… We also made medicine balls for the elephants, involving banana, cooked rice, raw rice and some tree bark. Apparently, both the raw rice and the tree bark help with digestion.

Update from Monday: After feeding a bunch more elephants in the morning, we hiked to a Karan village to see some of their handicrafts, and then hiked to a river and a waterfall. I jumped off a rock ledge into the side of the waterfall. After hanging out with a few more elephants, I hung off the back of a truck while getting ride to town, where I transferred to my main ride back to Chiang Mai.

Backing up to last Monday….

Diving on Ko Lanta was gorgeous, with far better visibility than on Ko Tao. On Monday I went to Hin Meung and Hin Daeng (Hin means rock in Thai, so these are Red Rock and Purple Rock. Can’t really explain Red Rock, but Purple Rock is covered with purple coral), and saw eight manta rays (OK, some of them may have been repeat performances, but the dive master claims that she saw 6 distinct ones). I went diving at Ko Phi Phi on Tuesday, and saw an octopus. I think I saw the outline of a whaleshark, but the visibility was poor, and it was pretty far away.

Islamic school is on Monday night on Ko Lanta, and I got to hear adorable children chanting at the mosque, and then watched them walk home while twirling their workbooks.

On Wednesday I flew from Krabi (beachtown near Ko Lanta) to Chiang Mai in the north of Thailand. I wandered around the city on Thursday, got a facial in the hopes of healing my peeling skin (while you don’t get sunburnt while diving, you do while swimming on your back after returning from a dive. Directly through your plastic mask), On Thursday evening I went on a night safari (basically two tram rides at a zoo, where you can feed animals from the sides of the vehicles). There were two different tram tours advertised: Thai and English. I went on the English tour, which turned out to be mostly Chinese with a little English. I was the only white person on the tour—everyone else was Chinese. On Friday, when I did a hike in Doi Inthanon, a national park, there were no Chinese on the hike, but many at the waterfalls that we drove to. Of all the days that I had been diving, there was a lone Chinese woman on one of my dives, despite the fact that I was diving during peak Chinese tourism season—the two weeks around Chinese New Year. A British couple who was on my hike theorized that since many wealthy Chinese are only one generation removed from heavy labor occupations, they are not keen on doing active things on vacation, and prefer to be driven from place to place, and take pictures.

While the animals that I saw on the night safari were incredible: gorgeous Bengali tigers, emus, ostriches, black bears, zebras, antelope, kangaroos, tapers, lions, giraffes, deer (ok, those weren’t so exciting to me), hippopotami, rhinos, and elephants, I was also a bit concerned about the ethics behind handing hordes of tourists baskets of food to feed to the zebras, giraffes and deer that came up to the trams—aren’t they concerned about overfeeding? Still, the variety of animals present was pretty astonishing. Following the two tram rides, there was a lion and tiger show which was quite boring, and brought to mind kitschy circus performances. The 200 Chinese people around me seemed super into it.

Doi Inthanon is the highest peak in Thailand. It also has two temples near the peak—one for the king and one for the queen (the queen’s is purple, and much prettier). Surrounding each temple are well-manicured gardens and gorgeous vistas. The Doi Inthanon peak is part of a cloud forest, but it was fairly sunny on Friday, and we didn’t see any clouds. Following our hike, we stopped at a Lanna market, where I bought fresh strawberries and fresh gooseberries, along with almonds with chocolate powder--YUM

I returned to Chiang Mai just before Shabbat, and had my first Chabad in Asia experience. My walk to Chabad involved passing the Merkaz LaMetayel HaYisraeli (The Jewish Agency’s shop in Chiang Mai), a restaurant called Sababa, and multiple stores with Hebrew language signs (including one advertising Botox, exclusively in Hebrew and English). There were 200ish people at Chabad, almost all Israeli, though not primarily post-army backpackers. I saw multiple young couples on their honeymoons, and lot of middle-aged people, particularly middle-aged Sephardim. I learned that there is an Israeli tour agency through which you can book Hebrew-language tours. I also met people who were exclusively going to cities in Thailand with Chabad houses (Bangkok, Phuket, Chiang Mai and Koh Samui). Most importantly, I learned that the Hebrew word for Manta Ray is chatul yam.

Entirely by accident, I happened to be in Chiang Mai for the flower festival, an annual fair displaying the flowers from around the province. My walk to Chabad on Shabbat morning involved walking through the parade route. While the flowers on the floats were very impressive, far more entertaining were the high school marching bands, complete with flag twirlers. The first one, which was quite good, played the title song from “Fame”. The second one wasn’t particularly talented, and played indecipherable music. The third one played the Battle Hymn of the Republic (????). My favorite part were the metaplim/attendants that followed each band, carrying toilet paper and bottles of water to help cool off the performers.

*For the reference in the title, watch https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VL8TiQtSjPw

ארבעה ראשי שנים הם... באחד בשבט ראש השנה לסינים

Greetings from Koh Lanta, on the Andaman Sea (west coast of Thailand)! When I arrived without a hotel reservation, I was warned that due to Chinese New Year the island was packed with Chinese tourists, and I would not be able to get a room. That was very clearly not the case, and I am staying at a lovely and reasonably priced bungalow (a significant improvement over my Koh Tao accommodations), surrounded by what I think are mangrove trees. There are a fair number of Chinese tourists, which makes me appreciate that as vexing as it is when only one of the two parties is a fluent English speaker, communication becomes comically impenetrable when neither party is a fluent English speaker.

Unlike Koh Tao, which is an island entirely devoted to diving, there is much more diversity in the kinds of tourists on Koh Lanta—lots of families, people hanging out on the beach during the day instead of just lining up to get on boats. Koh Lanta is majority Muslim, with lots of hijabi women, restaurants that don’t serve alcohol, etc. I am staying down the road from a local mosque. The beach does not feel overdeveloped at all—it’s all very laid back. I’ve also been pleasantly surprised to find that I don’t feel like I’m treated as a giant American dollar sign—no one tries to aggressively sell you anything, locals go to the same 7-11 that tourists go to, etc.

Backing up to last Monday….

On Monday and Tuesday, I completed my advanced open water dives on Koh Tao. Unlike my one-on-one open water dives with Gus, the advanced course was with two German girls, aged 20 and 25. 25 year-old German girl complained about absolutely everything: water temperature, air temperature, the stickiness of her wetsuit, water in her ears, seeds in her watermelon (I kid you not). Still, it was nice to feel like I was part of a cohort going through an experience. In addition to working on buoyancy skills and navigation (I can read a compass!), the advanced open water course involved a deep water dive (~30 meters), a night dive, and a shipwreck dive at the HTMS Sattakut, a WW2 era US ship that was first donated to the Thai navy, and, once taken out of commission, given to Koh Tao for divers to explore.  On Wednesday, we did three fun (i.e. not for course credit) dives—two at Sail Rock, and one at Shark Island, though, sadly, we did not see any sharks. After our third dive on Wednesday, my left ear started feeling not-so-great, so I decided it was a good time to leave Koh Tao, and head to Koh Lanta, with the hopes that my ear would clear up over the weekend. It is now Sunday night, and while my ear is feeling much better, it is still a bit clogged. I am planning on diving tomorrow (Monday), so here’s hoping it feels better by 8 AM, when my boat leaves.

I opted for the overnight ferry from Koh Tao to Surat Thani on Wednesday night, and then a minibus from Surat Thani to Koh Lanta (the ferry to Koh Lanta can carry minibuses) on Thursday morning.  I assumed that the overnight ferry to Surat Thani would be the same as the morning ferry from Chumphon to Koh Tao that I had taken last week: rows of hard wooden benches. Lo and behold, when I opened the door to the main deck, there were three rows of 30 bunk beds covered with orange sheets. Probably due to the three dives from that day, I slept really well!

On Shabbat afternoon, as I lazed on the sparsely populated beach, a French couple came up to me and pointed out a nearby pack of monkeys that had just stolen their lunch. After ensuring that all of my belongings were present and accounted for, I got to enjoy my own personal entertainment troupe as the monkeys staged a wrestling match, and showed off their climbing skillz.

Some unfortunate news: as most probably know, you are not supposed to wear shoes into Thai homes and some businesses. Since the dive boat captains live on their boats, you are also not supposed to bring your shoes onto the dive boats; everyone leaves them on shore. This led to the mysterious disappearance of my good hiking sandals L Also, as I was leaving Koh Tao my cellphone was stolen. I am interpreting this as a sign from the Ribono shel Olam to spend less time on Facebook/checking email. However, since Shabbat ended I have been unable to tear myself away from the following the horrors of the Trump immigration executive orders. I have been following all of the airport protests, and feeling horrified, inspired by all of my badass activist friends, powerless, incredibly guilty for being here and not there, and a fair amount of despair. I am hoping that once my ear clears, and I can get back to my regularly scheduled 2-3 dives per day I’ll go back to ignoring the world around me. Or maybe not.

Question for y’all—some people have been asking if it’s possible to get automatic notifications when I update my blog. Is there an easy way to add my blog to an RSS feed, or some such thing? I am entirely tech stupid in the blogging department, so if anyone knows how to do such a thing, please mention it in the comments.

*Title is based off of the first Mishnah in Masechet Rosh Hashanah which describes the 4 “Rosh Hashanahs”. Little did you know that the first of Shvat is Chinese Rosh Hashanah.

שאוני והטילני אל הים

One week into my stay in Thailand, and I have found my purpose in life: scuba diving.

Today I swam underneath a school of about 500 barracudas. I have seen Christmas Tree Worms, Long Fin Banner Fish (or Gil, to those conversant in Finding Nemo), a Blue Spotted Stingray, at least three different kinds of trout, 8-banded butterfly fish, a parrot fish (the colors!), 3 Titan Trigger fish (yikes--they will eat your fins!). All this on my 4 training dives. Tomorrow I am  completing my Advanced Open Water dive course, at which point I'll be able to dive to 30 meters (100 feet, I think?). I'm also contemplating taking an underwater photography course, a Nitrox course, which would allow me to stay down for longer, and potentially one or two other things. Once I've completed whatever training I'd like, I think I'll head to the Andaman Coast (Western side of Thailand), which is supposed to be less crowded, with even more beautiful fish.

More than the fish, the feeling of being underwater is the most relaxed that I've ever been. I forget about the state of the world, my anxiety--nothing exists except for my breath.

Backing up to last Tuesday...

My first impressions of Bangkok: The highways look like LA, but with more tin roofs.

 I stayed in a guesthouse in Rattanakosin, which is a few blocks from uber-touristy Th Khao San, but I was surrounded by locals homes. The doors to people's homes are left open all day. Some people have mini shops there, or you can look in on a family watching TV.

While walking around Rattanakosin on Tuesday night, I noticed scores of Thai adults, mostly women, ranging in age from mid-20s-80s wearing fancy black clothing, with silver jewelry on the left lapel/breast pocket. After the first 10, I assumed that a Philharmonic concert had just let out, but by the next 20 I was confused (also, no one was carrying instrument cases). On Wednesday, I figured it out--these are mourners who are coming to pay their respects to the recently departed King Rama IX. Rama's body will lie in-state for 1 year, with thousands of mourners waiting on line for hours to visit each day. Each mourner gets fed at the expense of the King's family. I learned all this while visiting the Grand Palace, where the King's body lies in-state. Fun fact: Three times a year, the king is responsible for dressing the Buddha in the temple within the palace in the appropriate garb for the season (summer, rainy, or winter). Rama IX was king for 70 years, and was immensely popular--he did a lot to address poverty, and worked on environmental and water-related issues. The next king, who will be coronated next October, is pretty skeezy--he has been married three times, kidnapped his daughter from his second wife, manipulated the lese majeste law to get himself a no-fault divorce, has a number of illegitimate children, etc. 

Following the Grand Palace, I went to Ananta Samakhon Throne Hall, which looked like a Renaissance-era European building plunked down in the middle of Bangkok. Turns out Rama V really like Italian architecture, and he had it built. Anyhoo, I saw some really incredible wooden mural sculpture depicting Buddhist and Thai legends.

Shortly after arriving on Tuesday, I found a local travel agency where I could book a bus/boat combo to Ko Tao. They told me that the bus would pick me up at my guest house between 6-6:30 on Wednesday. This is somewhat confusing, as cars can't pull up directly in front of the guest house, but whatever, we'll go with it. At 6:20 there was nothing doing, so I walked over to the agency to check in. They told me to head back to my guest house, they'd call the bus company. Half an hour later, as I'm in the process of writing an email to the travel agency, a guy walks in to the guest house lobby. "Ko Taa?" he asks. Yes! I grab my pack and head out. That's when I notice that he's on a motorcycle, and is waiting for me to jump on the back. Adventure time!

My first thought: Huh, this is my first time on a motorcycle.

My second thought: Huh, I'm not wearing a helmet.

My third thought: And he just drove into oncoming traffic

That's when I started saying Tehillim.

I lived to tell the tale, I got to Koh Tao, and I went diving. Gus, my dive instructor, is a Scot, and insisted on mocking my countrymen for proving that, despite Brexit, Americans are still stupider than Brits. Thus, I have been unsuccessful in avoiding all mention of Trump. I have been similarly unsuccessful in avoiding Facebook and email, but I have been getting chizuk from all of the pictures and posts that you all have been sharing from the Women's Marches. Shabbat, which was between dives 2 and 3, was quiet--I read, slept a lot, and got rid of all of the nitrogen that has been gathering in my blood.

*Title comes from Yonah 2:12: Pick me up and throw me into the ocean

And it was in the last days of Obama's administration....

Hello Friends!

I had initially planned on beginning my blog with a retrospective of fond and not-so-fond memories from my 4.5 years in DC (Sermon Slam, a CSF leak, walks up and down 16th Street, Prime Meridian, the S Street Beit Midrash, Masechet Beitzah, IfNotNow actions, harassing members of the City Council/the Mayor, bawling at plays with Becca and much else all featuring prominently). But I head out to to the airport in about 15 minutes, so nostalgia will just have to wait, in favor of explanations, and blog kick-off.

The name of my blog is a play on Esther 1:1, which describes the kingdom of Achashveirosh as stretching MeHodu VeAd Kush, from India to Ethiopia. My blog is entitled MeHodu VeAd HaKibush, from India to the Occupation (h/t Sarah M. for the idea).  Admittedly, my trip starts in Thailand, then goes to India, Israel, somewhere in the Mediterranean, Palestine, and then somewhere else, TBD, so the description works neither geographically nor temporally. Still, the title gives you the gist of the blog's purpose: I will both be describing my adventures and also sharing thoughts about politics, Torah, and whatever else strikes my fancy. Photographs are also a possibility.

The goal is to post ~once a week. Having never blogged before, I'm not totally sure how well this commitment will hold up. My goals for this trip include unplugging, and seeing how long I can go without saying or hearing the name Donald Trump. This means that I will be less electronically available than usual. Commenting here is probably a good way to get my attention.

OK, time to head out to JFK. More soon!