When in Rome

One of the things I dig most about travel is how it forces you out of your comfort zone. It’s all too easy to fall into patterns when we’re living our normal lives– waking up, working the 9-5, eating dinner, watching a favorite sitcom, and going to bed. Maybe you go to the gym, or mix it up by trying out a new bar rather than the same old haunt. Patterns are good. Patterns bring order into our lives, and with order comes comfort. Patterns are built on meaning: to strengthen relationships, our bodies, to decompress after a long day. We visit the places and the people that have brought us happiness time and again, because we expect that they will continue to bring us happiness. Patterns become patterns for a reason.

But sometimes we can get stuck in our patterns. This is where travel comes in: the “When in Rome” factor. Surrounded by new people and sights and sounds and tastes; aware of the transience of the moment, we become braver, more open-minded versions of ourselves. We recognize that we have, if only for a short time, broken out of our comfort zones and patterns, and we embrace the moment for whatever it is.

I consider myself an adventurous eater– a human garbage disposal, if you will. I will try just about anything. Even so, at home in Boston, I wouldn’t eat a maggot if you double-dog dared me. But one night out in Bangkok was all it took. On my third day in Thailand, I was exploring a BKK night market with some friends when we stumbled upon a bug-vendor. We deliberated and giggled and squirmed about it for a while, but in the end it was a unanimous “When in Thailand!” We came here to have new cultural experiences, and we committed to doing just that. We touched our wee beasties together in a toast and popped them into our mouths.

a la carte

Cheers???

I can’t say it was the most delicious treat I’ve tasted here in Thailand, but it didn’t make me gag, either. In fact, I followed my salty fried maggot with a pan-seared larva. Slimy, yet satisfying. I wasn’t brave enough to go for one of the giant cockroaches or scorpions this time around… but I will. Oh, I will… when that creepy-crawler least expects it.

My friend Holly was a real champ this past weekend, courageously noshing a meaty, leggy, gold n’ crunchy grasshopper on Khao San Road. It’s Holly’s last week in Thailand before she jets off to volunteer in Cameroon, so we all bore the summer heat on Saturday, hopping a van to BKK to help her bid farewell with the ultimate Thailand tourist’s weekend. When you’re doing as the Roman’s do, you get to indulge in cheesy delicious margherita pizza and wash it down with red wine.  When you do as the Thai’s do, it is vermin a la carte… bonappetit! Our friend Alex chose the creme of the crop for Holly, and we cheered her on as she devoured it… nearly painlessly. She was a great sport about it.

Our W.I.R (When in Rome) weekend continued to break from the norm as we hitched a ride in a tuk-tuk for a little rendezvouz in a seedier part of town. Let it suffice to say that this was underground Bangkok in all of its degrading, graphic, and chauvinistic infamy. The experience was vaguely interesting, but mostly just disturbing. I couldn’t detach myself from the situation enough to be entertained by the surreal and ridiculous performance that was thrust (pun intended) before my eyes. I’m not saying it wasn’t an impressive display, but between shaming my inner-feminist  and wanting to be asleep in my bed, I just wasn’t having it. If I never experience this part of Thailand again, it will be too soon.

The next morning we dragged ourselves out of bed, chugged some water, and prepped ourselves for a workout in the park.

Enter: Muay Thai Max.

AKA: Muscles Max.  AKA: Thai-Man-Candy Max.

Max is a professional Muay Thai fighter in Bangkok and a friend of a friend who invited us to Lumphini Park for a Sunday morning Muay Thai lesson.  Anyone who knows me knows I am a lover, not a fighter, and certainly not much of an athlete.  But, W.I.R.!  You probably wouldn’t catch me hurrying myself to the Boston Commons on a sleepy Sunday morning to learn how to box, but here I am- in Thailand- and this was an opportunity not to be missed.  We worked out with Max for about an hour and a half, dripping with sweat in the blazing Bangkok sun.  We learned to find our fighting stance and the basic offensive moves: the jab, elbow, kick, knee, and foot thrust.  As you can see, I am now an expert:

By the end of Max’s workout, I was drenched in my own sweat. I could barely lift my arms. Then, he congratulated us on finishing the warm-up. For Muay Thai Max, who runs for an hour, then jumps rope, then runs tires, then cools down with some shadow boxing and partner training (totaling a 5-hour gym stint), this was kid’s stuff.

Grasshoppers, “special shows,” boxing in the BKK summer heat, taking a 12 hour overnight bus ride just to spend two days in a distant rural town, or pulling yourself away from Facebook on a Tuesday night to walk to the night market because, well, you live a mile away from a Thai night market. The point I mean to make is that travel inspires new adventures. Some of these episodes, I’d never want to repeat again.  Some are perhaps not even really “doing as the Thais do”… more like the dirty old Western men. But these and plenty of other experiences here in Thailand are ones that I might not been motivated or bold enough to try if I weren’t in Thailand. Other “When in Rome” instances, such as local festivals, learning Thai, or getting down and dirty with the squat toilets have afforded me broader horizons and changed perspectives. I think that, in this sense, breaking my patterns becomes both a chance for adventure as well as for personal growth.

But, sometimes you can burn out on the W.I.R. factor too.  That’s, why after burning the calories in my Muay Thai “warm-up,” I decided to really do as the Romans do:  treat myself to a cheesy-delicious pizza.  Thank you, Bangkok  🙂

Back for Seconds

In case I haven’t sold you yet on Som Tam Sawng Nuu, I want to give you a quick run-down of the Isan food highlights.  Truth be told, some of this was originally part of my last blog entry, but I know that my stories can get a little *ahem* long-winded every now and then, so I decided to spare you for once and break the entry up into more manageable bites (pun entirely intended).  So, if my first post about Som Tam Sawng Nuu left you hungry (yup, still intended) for more, here’s a second helping 🙂

STICKY RICE:

Let’s begin with the basics.  When I am dining in the States, the bread basket is the seductress that temps me into culinary adultery.  I may have made a date with a beautiful, pink and juicy filet mignon (and let’s face it, a hot dish like that will always take longer getting ready), and I swear my intentions are sincere.  But once that warm, aromatic bread basket is placed in front of me, I’m a goner.  “Just a half a roll to curb my appetite” turns into a full helping of bread, turns into two helpings, and I turn into a two-timing food philanderer.

I know I am not the only American who turns into a raging cheater every time the bread basket comes around… you know you do it too.  Well, my friends, sticky rice is to Thailand as the bread basket is to America.  How carbs are so comforting and irresistible, I will never understand.  They just have this way about them.

Like I said in my last post, Som Tam Sawng Nuu specializes in Isan food– food from the northeast region of Thailand.  One of the best things about Isan food is that sticky rice, kaao niaw, is a staple.  I eat rice in Thailand everyday– steamed rice, fried rice, occasionally some rice porridge… but sticky rice is a whole different animal (well… you know what I mean).  It is a long grain rice and cooked to the perfect al dente so that you can pick it up in a big clump with your fingers and mold it into a lovely little ball o’ carbs to dip into all kinds of goodness.  Last week I went out to eat at Som Tam with some co-workers and was surprised to see some of the women NOT indulging in the sticky rice.  Turns out Thai women are not so different from American women– avoiding the carbs to maintain their dainty figures.  I know I need to learn some self-control myself, but I am too easily seduced to call things off with sticky rice.

STICKY RICE

SOM TAM:

Spicy papaya salad.  The namesake of the outfit in question.  Choosing a favorite food in a country so rich in flavor is a tall order, but it is with little hesitation that I say som tam, and more specifically Dton’s som tam, has stolen my heart and taste-buds to boot.  Som Tam Thai, the traditional version, includes shredded, unripe green papaya, long beans, tomatoes, chili peppers, peanuts, lime juice, sugar, fish sauce, (and probably plenty of other indispensable, albeit undetectable, ingredients).  In the case of Sawng Nuu, sweet and delicious tamarind is added, freshly ground that morning.  The makings are all mixed and pounded [not quite] to a pulp with a mortar and pestle, and are of course served with sticky rice to soak up the spicy, sweet, and sour juices.  The juice is so delicious, in fact, that once the table’s supply of sticky rice has run out, I start slurping up the juice straight from my spoon (I care very little about table manners here in Thailand).  I shamefully await the day when I will  pour the remaining juices straight from the plate into my mouth… it is only a matter of time.

There are many  derivatives of the classic som tam. Dton’s restaurant offers a refreshing cucumber som tam, a green mango som tam, a fruit salad-esque som tam, som tam with crab or shrimp… and a few related dishes that we farangs never care to brave, such as the “stinky fish,” “salty egg,” and the bug-infested varieties.  I’ve tried the cucumber, mango, fruit salad, and crab and they are lovely, to be sure, but I am a som tam purist all the way.

SOM TAM THAI

NUA (and muu) DAET DIAO:

Daet diao is the ultimate bar snack.  Sun-dried beef (nua) or pork (muu) that is salted and fried, served with Thai sweet chili sauce.  It is tough and chewy and salty and delicious and so unhealthy, I know, but I’ve adopted a theory here that if I never step on scales in Thailand, anyways, then calories and fat don’t exist.  Regardless, this stuff is worth it.  The nua is my favorite.

Walking around the daytime markets, daet diao might turn a germ-o-phobe farang’s stomach.  You see the meat laid out on straw baskets on the side of the road for hours in the sunshine, collecting flies and other bugs I’m sure.  It is a pretty disagreeable sight, but, again, it is just too good to pass up.  And, as we decided over dinner last night, while this may not get a stamp of approval from any health inspector in the United States, there are plenty of unhealthy preservatives and hormones that we feed our bodies everyday.  Thailand might serve daet diao that was once a “meating” ground for bugs, but maybe this is still better than some of what we eat in the U.S.  Maybe?

NUA DAET DIAO

PLAA SAAM ROT:

A beautiful, golden brown fried red snapper that is crunchy on the outside, soft and succulent on the inside, and drenched with a delightfully sweet tamarind sauce.  It is called “Three flavor fish,” and I’m not really quite sure what those other two flavors are except to say 1) mouth-watering and 2) divine.  And, as always, the Saam Rot sauce makes the perfect companion for that ever-seductive sticky rice.

PLAA SAAM ROT

Are you convinced yet?  There are many other delicious dishes at Som Tam Sawng Nuu but these are the tops.  I am curious to go to a Thai restaurant in the states and see how well-represented some of this food is, or if they have it at all.  I’ve definitely seen spicy papaya salad on menus in the U.S. but I had never ordered it before.  Your homework: go to a Thai restaurant, try to order one of these dishes, and report back.  At the very least, maybe you can get your hands on some sticky rice!

destruction.

Love and Papaya Salad

Ally, posing as "an American" for my "nationalities" slideshow

Allow me to introduce you to Allyson Hauss.  I’ve mentioned her before, but consider this your formal meeting.  Ally is another teacher from the States, working in the Sa-Nguan Ying English Program.  She came to Suphan just over 2 years ago, shortly after graduating college, through the same agency that found me my teaching position.  One day, while studying Thai, she met a young Thai lad who offered to help her.  As Ally’s Thai vocabulary grew, so did their love for each other.  She has been living in Thailand, teaching at SYEP, dating Dton, and helping out his family by serving tables at their restaurant ever since.

Moral of the story: Ally (or her Thailand story, rather) is my parents’ worst nightmare.

Last night Ally called our ever- trusty and reliable “Uncle Tuk-Tuk” and my Suphan friends and I piled in to head out to dinner at Dton’s restaurant.  Som Tam Sawng Nuu (Two Young Mens’ Spicy Papaya Salad) is located just a bit outside of muang Suphanburi, so it is a painless 10-20 baht tuk-tuk ride to satisfy our weekly som tam cravings.  They specialize in Isan fare– food from Northeastern Thailand– and though I have yet to make my way to this more uncharted region of the kingdom, rumor has it that Dton’s food can easily compete with the lot of it.  It is without a doubt the best food I’ve tasted in all of my Thailand travels.

Megan and SOM TAM!

Beyond their many delicious dishes that keep us coming back for more, I love visiting the restaurant becuase it feels like home away from home.  I have only been in Thailand for two months, and when I try to communicate with Dton’s family, my Tinglish is no better than with any other Thai folk (perhaps Tingrades would be a better term… Thai-English-Charades).  But still, their friendly smiles light up each time we pull up in Uncle T’s chariot, and that alone feels like home.

Dton will sit down with us while we eat for a mini Thai lesson and to assign homework (I had to learn the days of the week for yesterday).  Baby Aut is always running around like he owns the place.  Dirty as he is, his smile and laughter and giant head charm us all.  The restaurant is his playground, his kingdom, and we are all but his doting subjects.  And Dton’s mother has a nickname for me– “Gii-ka-Poo,” referring to a supposedly Thai phenomenon that says when you drink too much soda, the bubbles all rise to your head and your hair goes “POOF!”  That is how my hair got this way- didn’t you know?

Aut!

Aut!

Aut!

On Thanksgiving Dton’s family welcomed us to their restaurant for a feast of American fare.  And by welcomed us, I mean they let us completely take over.  Turkey is hard to come by in Thailand, and ovens even harder, so instead of the traditional feast it was burgers and pasta salad on this Thanksgiving Day.  Dton’s brother helped us to hack up filets of beef, garlic, and onions into home-ground hamburg meat (ground beef= another thing you can’t find here), as we chopped veggies for our make-shift pasta salad with the help of his mom and various other relations.  Then, Dton’s pa grilled our burgers for us as karaoke was set-up and the song-and-dance party commenced.  And last night, I “helped” Dton in the kitchen.  It was an interactive vocabulary lesson, really, as I squished my hands into a bowl of raw chicken wing-tips and some floury liquid concoction to prepare it for the frying pan.

burgers from scratch

Preparing our "Thanksgiving" feast with the help of Dton's family

Today, it is only four days until Christmas, and as thrilled as I am to be living in Thailand and having this incredible and challenging and eye-opening experience, I miss my family terribly.  I received a package from home last night, and was moved to tears to find in it photo copies of all of the letters that Santa wrote my four siblings and I from my first Christmas, on (Santa keeps threatening to retire but that big old softy keeps coming back with more!).  It was the most wonderful gift I could have ever hoped to receive so far from home, but it made me miss my family sorely.  As always, Som Tam Sawng Nuu was right there when I needed it.  There is no substitution for my own family, but just to be around a family made me feel a little closer to home.  I wish more than anything to be able to hug my parents this holiday.  At heart I am always their Christie Bug, but for now I will be grateful for the journey that I am on, and settle for Gii-ka-Poo.

Ode to the Pineapple

You, sapero,
are a god
among fruits.
Each day
I walk
anxiously
home from school
waiting for
the moment.
The moment
when I will know
once
and for all
if my dreams
of sweet
tangy
piquant
juices
will come
to true
fruition.
Your
heavy armored
clothes,
your
treasure troll
haircut,
disguising your

sunshine

yellow,

sweet innocence,

and coy,

exotic edge.

.

Oh,
beloved Fruit
Lady!
She who

wears

the red

and white

striped

sun bonnet!

She who

serves me

pineapple

from her

motorbike

ice box!

She, who,

for a mere

twenty baht

will hew

divinity

and present

it to me

in

a plastic bag!

.

Sapero,

my
tongue
always misses you,
always

remembers.
Your tart juices
leave it parched
wanting more.

.

.

(Inspired by Pablo Neruda’s Ode to the Apple, pg 99, and by the Fruit Lady)

Sapero topped with sugar, salt, chili blend. SO GOOD!

Thai Tapas

On my second night in Suphanburi, myself and the five other new foreign teachers at Sa-Nguanying School went to dinner with our new friend Clare at “the restaurant near Nasa Mall, as we have come to call it.  Clare is a cool 22 year old Aussie chick who visited Sa-Nguan Ying on high school exchange years ago and, upon completing university, returned from her home in Tasmania to teach for a year at the same school she had once attended as a student.  Now that Clare and an American teacher, Ally, have been here for a while (6 months and two years respectively), they’ve graciously taken the lot of us under their wings to show us the ins-and-outs of Suphan and all of their favorite hot spots.

Our first night in Suphan was a wash after the one and a half hour ride from Bangkok turned into a tolerable three and quickly from three into a painful five plus.  Still, I shouldn’t complain.  Five hours was nothing compared to the 14 that some of our fellow teachers in other parts of the country had to endure to bypass the flooding.  And so, on our second night in town, Clare took us out to a celebratory feast at the restaurant near Nasa Mall.

And man, does Suphanburi know how to do food!  Clare asked if we’d be bothered if she ordered on behalf of the table, and we all eagerly obliged her with the responsibility; the bunch of us having spent the past week wandering up to random Bangkok food vendors and motioning uncertainly for “neung” (one) of whatever they were dishing out to the locals.  When our food arrived, our table was transformed into heaven.  Chicken in a creamy red curry sauce, Thai cashew chicken, and a completely unreal fried catfish called yum plaa dook fuu.  A week later, I still dream about this catfish, and am entirely perplexed by how it is made. I’ve settled on the belief that it was conjured by some culinary magician at the restaurant near Nasa Mall, because the only way I can think to describe its taste and texture would be to ask you to imagine eating a deep-fried cloud.

We all tucked in and enjoyed our Thai feast, passing around the plates in true Thai style, tasting a bit of this and a bit of that.  I went back in for seconds on the cloud, of course.  Partway through our painfully long van ride from Bangkok, we had broke bread with our school coordinators in the same fashion, and each time our posse of foreign teachers has gone to dinner (dinners out in Thailand costing about 3 USD a head including beverages, mind you) its been the same.  It’s great because I usually want to try everybody’s everything anyways.  And all along, dinner becomes a Thai lesson.  We ask Ally and Clare what to call this?  How do I ask for that?  Pointing all around the table and prompting our new friends/ walking dictionaries to identify everything that we think we might want to order for ourselves later on.  It makes for a delicious little study session!

Thai is a tough language, and the experience of learning it is worlds apart from my experiences with Spanish.  Everything is different.  It contains 44 consonants and 5 phonemic tones: mid, low, falling, high, and rising.  The real trick is the tones.  Once I finally commit a word to memory, I might repeat it ten times and a Thai person still will not understand me because my voice rose when it was supposed to fall.  The word “suay,” for example.  If you pronounce it with a rising pitch on the “ay,” it means beautiful.  If you say it at mid-tone it means ugly or unfortunate.  Similarly, a famous Thai tongue twister “mai – mai – mai – mai- mai” (high – low – falling – falling – high) translates to “new wood doesn’t burn, does it?”  And I’ve been warned that the Thai word for banana is easily mistaken for the word for male genitalia, and a Westerner would do best to avoid saying it altogether.

Small bites.  Little family style tapas.  Before coming here, I felt no urgency to learn the language.  I practiced on Rosetta Stone a bit, but I never really committed and I didn’t get much further than learning some animals and a few prepositional phrases.  Now that I am here in Suphan where the only English speakers are the farangs (foreigners), I am overwhelmed.  I want so badly to be able to communicate like Clare or Ally, but I know I need to start small.  And so, I am starting with food. What better motivation for a girl who loves to eat?  I carry my little leather “nomad” journal around with me everywhere I go and write down the meanings of everything delicious… everything aroi maak.  I still can’t ask for a toilet plunger, as would have been useful the other day when I was playing charades at the reception desk of my apartment building, but I can eat plenty.  It is amazing how fun and… ahem… digestible a new language becomes when you know your efforts will be rewarded with delicious cloud-like goodness.