December 21, 2009

The disadvantage of living on a secluded island in the Andaman Sea is that travel to and from is a game of hurry up and wait for a multitude of different modes of transport and it takes at least a day of travel to get anywhere beyond Phuket. But a last we were getting off this rock just as I was falling into the madness that is Island Fever.

We boarded the Chao Koh ferry minutes before 9:00 this morning after stopping off at the French Bakery to pick up a “pain au chocolat” and cappuccino. Ryan had grabbed a bacon egg and cheese from Phi Phi Bakery and Chris had an assortment of different breakfasts from a couple different places. At 8:30 in the morning the pain au chocolat from French Bakery is still really really good as it has yet to transgress into a humidity-imbibed stale copy of its earlier self.

The ferry is about an hour and a half crossing to Rasada Pier, Phuket Town from where we took a half hour mini bus ride to Phuket Airport where we waited for our 2:40 flight. We opted on Burger King for lunch (and I also got a piece of quiche from a bakery vendor which I didn’t so much enjoy but ate out of hunger with some BK fries which I over-enjoyed). Chris hasn’t recovered from his BK lunch yet, while Ryan savored every last fat globule.

Pete from Seafrog who was also joining us on this trip to Vientiane met us in the lounge while we waited to board. A quick 1:40 minute flight landed us in Udon Thani at about half past four where we found ourselves another mini bus for the hour drive to Nong Khai, the Thai side of the Thai-Laos border. The Thai customs agent did not say a word to me as seems to be the custom and we were in No Man’s Land waiting for a bus to take us over the Mekong River via the Friendship Bridge. The sun was just setting, painting an eerie still picture over the water of the Mekong. Lao visa on arrival cost us $30 apiece – more than our flights to Udon Thani! And then we were on another mini bus into Vientiane where we arrived about 6:30.

From all the sitting and jostling around in poorly suspended vehicles, I can’t feel my tailbone and Ryan’s complaining that his butt hurts.

I’ve idled the day away reading an extremely depressing and poorly written book titled “And Then One Morning” about the Tsunami. It’s a fantastic story and it really is a shame that the guy can’t write and that it wasn’t professionally edited. Otherwise it’s riveting and I would recommend it – it’s a quick read – only a couple hundred pages. It’s all the more interesting from the perspective of one living on Phi Phi when you can follow his every move and know some of the people he writes about.

Vientiane so far is promising to be a much better choice in cities for us. It’s bustling, there are streetside cafes with people sitting outside, the streets are lined with welcoming guesthouses in a variety of interesting architectures. There’s a little night market and street vendors. I think this will be a much more pleasant city for us to explore on foot than KL was. And from where I stand the fact that I can actually STAND and WALK this time should alone make it a huge improvement!
We had a fantastic Indian meal for dinner of pappadam, naan, rogan josh, tikka massala and vindaloo. I topped mine off with sweet sweet lassi.

December 23, 2009

I slept troubled our first night in Vientiane. My first mistake was finishing the world’s most depressing book before falling asleep so that I was full on fountain of tears, with snot running down my nose by the time I read the last word and turned out the lights. There is just no uplifting ending to that story. It keeps getting worse and ends just as awful as it could. I suppose that’s the difference between truth and fiction. In fiction the guy gets the girl in the end or there’s a beautifully uplifting moral. In truth everybody dies and it’s miserable.

Until now I’ve not understood why the Thais head for the hills or Krabi every time there’s the most minute, little earthquake. Certainly logic can dictate the difference between a 4.5 quake and the wave that might create in comparison to the second most violent earthquake in recorded history. But I think now I understand the trauma that must linger so overwhelmingly and PTSD is not logical.

I’ve also concluded that Andrew, Ryan’s boss was very very lucky indeed. His entire family was at Adventure Club when he saw terrorized people running down the street away from the beach. He didn’t question, but just grabbed his wife and kids and headed for Reggae Bar. He could have lost his entire family.

But now we’re in Laos. If you blink in Laos you’ll miss a temple. There are more temples in Vientiane than there are Starbucks in Santa Clara – not making a comparison, just saying.

Vientiane is lovely – like I said – bustling. It reminds me a bit of New Orleans in the French influenced architecture – lots of wooden balconies and terraces. It is also a bit of collision of old versus new. Lots of shiny new building interspersed with old world charm. A scooter goes by side saddled by a girl wearing shorter than short shorts and a clingy t-shirt at the same time you cross an old Lao woman in the traditional Lao garb, covered from head to toe in grey drab clothing complete with the straw pointy hat and carrying their wares in two baskets carefully suspended from a big stick.





The names of the streets are mostly in French – all “rue” something or other. Our guesthouse is on Rue Francois Ngin.

We started our first day by going to drop off our passports at the Thai Consulate. I had a minor freak out at the border when I realized that I only have one empty page left in my passport. I was hoping that asking for a double-entry visa was not going to require two pages.


(Riding the Tuk Tuk)


(Bahts and Kips and Dollars, oh my! How to pay for a Tuk Tuk)

Once passports were dropped off we wanted to go to Buddha Park but did not realize that Buddha Park is about 30 km outside Vientiane. The Tuk Tuk driver dropped us randomly at the Victory Arch which they compare to the Arc de Triomphe. The only resemblance is that it is indeed an arch and it represents victory. That’s where the similarities end. To say that the Arc de Triomphe is beautiful might be a little excessive, but it is not displeasing to the eye. This thing, however, was an eye sore! But like the Arc de Triomphe, you can climb to the top of it (albeit via stairs, not an elevator) and the view is quite nice from the top. Unlike the Arc de Triomphe, there are two levels of mall like stalls selling all manner of Lao souvenirs from t-shirts for BeerLao to old French colonial coins to knick-knackery made from ivory (score!).











We’ll come back later to how much my ass hurts from climbing up all the Lao stairs.

From the Victory Arch we walked back to our hotel. Vientiane is actually really really small and you can certainly walk everywhere if you have the time, and well, we have nothing but time. We had lunch at a lovely little outdoor restaurant and I enjoyed one of my favorite dishes – laap gai with khao niao (shredded chicken salad with sticky rice).

While Ryan napped the afternoon away, Chris and I decided to go see one of these million temples that you can’t blink in case you’ll miss it. Not so randomly, we opted for Vat Sisaket. It was a lovely and charming low-key little temple with lots of shrines, a central Sim that was in desperate need of restoration and boasted a ceiling replica of a Chateau from the Loire Valley and a massive Buddha.












Now let’s talk about dinner. I had spotted a Vietnamese restaurant that sounded wonderful to me (dragging Ryan there for lunch tomorrow before we leave). But, the three boys outvoted me. So off we went to try Lao food at supposedly the best Lao restaurant in Vientiane. I had a really bad feeling about this, but I figure that I can always find something to munch on. Oh how wrong I was!

You all know how I do not eat mystery meat to begin with. What you don’t know is how incredibly picky I’ve become since living in Asia. I eat chicken, shrimp, bacon on top of my Sports Bar salad only and ham in my Unni’s Ham, Cheese, Pasta salad only. That is it – no other pork and absolutely no beef and no fish except every once in a while I’ll have the chili/lime fish at Esom. Otherwise, it’s generally not difficult to find vegetarian options so not too big an issue.

The menu had everything from entrails to fried frog skin – not a single dish with chicken or shrimp. But there all the way at the end of the menu was my dish – fried noodles with no mention of meat. Okay, I’ll order that! All the boys ordered the same thing – beef stew. And we opted to share a papaya salad; it came first and was tart and not at all spicy despite a request for 3 chilies.

Then came my fried noodles slathered in mystery meat. The boys decided that they would share my plate and I would order it again and specify no meat. I explained best I could what I wanted having also specified that the menu said nothing about meat. Translation – hint, hint, I’ll be polite, but really, if you’re gonna have meat on something, the menu needs to say so

Chris enjoyed more of my noodles than his own stew – he slurped the broth from his stew, but left all the chunky bits. Pete and Ryan ate everything except the big hunks of fat.

Here is what must have gone through the guy’s head as he headed for the kitchen to order my noodle dish take 2: “why is she ordering the exact same thing again when she hasn’t even eaten the one she has.” Here is what went through my head when he brought me back the exact same dish slathered in the exact same mystery meat: “Why would I order the same thing twice.”

So that night for dinner I had apple pie with vanilla ice cream – nice white people food ordered at the very white people pub next to our hotel.

I told Chris as we were leaving the restaurant that if Laos was known for the quality of its cuisine, we’d have a Lao restaurant in the San Jose area.

Day two began at 8:00 a.m. We’d decided to try for Buddha Park and left early since we needed to be at the consulate at 1:00 to pick up our passports. We’d been told that we could get the government bus to Buddha Park, a much more financially reasonable option than a taxi. The bus is an oversized mini van with about six rows of seats – a bit like the shuttle that takes you from the airport to your hotel or rental car place or long-term parking, but much much much much much older and noisy.
Miraculously we got on the right bus. We were the only three white people on board and compared to all the Lao might as well have been giants. I think that Ryan’s head touched the ceiling when he was standing. The back row of the bus was already rather full, I thought, when we got on. But these three people parted to make room for me to sit down. And now we were nice and sandwiched in there. Then the bus driver walked around the outside to the back window and started yelling at us about the back row. 5 people. 5 people. He barked this a few times and more buns were squeezed too close together to make room for Ryan who was able to squeeze about 1/3 of his butt between mine and the Lao butt on his other side.

We started our journey through Vientiane and then along the Mekong River heading towards Buddha Park. A few stops were made to pile more people onto an already crammed bus. Only major stop – Friendship Bridge/Thai border where virtually everybody got off except the 3 white giants who then spread out for the remainder of the trip to Buddha Park. Since this was the only major stop, we’re considering taking the same bus to the border tomorrow.

Buddha Park rocked! On the banks of the Mekong is a plot of land covered in various Buddhist statues, amongst them, a reclining Buddha and this very odd structure that’s like a jungle gym for adults. Made of concrete and shaped like one of those Mexican outdoor stoves (or like a big onion), you enter through the mouth and inside there are three levels connected by a series of incredibly narrow, high and dangerous stairways. Each level has a ring of statues with a theme, each level stranger than the next. From the top, there’s a nice view of the rest of the park. Apparently this thing was all sculpted and put together by some ferang who’d spent a little too much time sniffing glue?

We took lots of funny pictures.

























Growling bellies dictated that we ought to enjoy some Lao lunch on the banks of the Mekong, this time emphasizing the need for it to be vegetarian. We hopped the bus back to the bus depot in Vientiane. Since we had an hour to kill before we needed to be at the consulate, we decided to walk there and avoided the instant onslaught of Tuk Tuk drivers that swarmed the second we descended from the bus.

We picked up our passports and all checked our visas and sure enough, next to the spot where it says “Number of Entries” was printed the number 2. And mine was taking up the last possible page of my passport, so off we went to the American Embassy to enquire about having new pages sewn into my passport. The boys figured that they’d do that as well since we were going anyway. I never expect anything to be easy when it comes to governmental bodies and was pleasantly surprised. We filled out a form each, handed in our passports and 20 minutes later got them back with a booklet of pages sewn into the middle, giving us many more travel possibilities before our passports expire.

December 24, 2009

Day three in Vientiane brought about much laziness before our noonish departure. Deciding how to get back down to Udon Thani was an exercise in herding cats amidst so many simple solutions. I left the boys to figure it out while I went to spend 10 minutes by myself to get my eyebrows waxed. Still cannot find a place to do it completely correctly like my place in Santa Clara. When I returned the boys still hadn’t figured it out and I still butted out because I said I was okay with whatever they chose. As I said to Ryan, “I got us up here, you guys figure out how to get us back down.”

Ryan and I had lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant – remember that restaurant I wanted to have dinner at the night I ended up in mystery meat hell? It was almost everything I’d hoped for though the quality of the duck in the 5 spice duck dish I ordered was, well, tough.

I’m writing the last of this as we’re sitting at Udon Thani airport awaiting our flight back to Phuket. For the first time in four days, I’ve managed to log on to the internet and Facebook is abuzz with Christmas-y type status updates and it is making me incredibly homesick. I said to Ryan that I would love nothing more than for Scotty to beam me back to pellet stove and flannel sheets and Homer PJs and figuring out how we’re going to fit in all the Christmas visits that we want to get done.

We did not successfully find and connect to any wifi while in Laos which was a bit of a shame as I was curious whether we’d have full access to sites like Facebook and wiki from within a communist country – I know that in China, for example, you can’t. Watching a smidge of Lao television this morning, I was able to surmise that the movie “Finding Neverland” is just now coming out in Lao theatres. Hmmmmm.

The Lao immigrations agent asked me how I enjoyed my visit to Laos and I told him that I loved Vientiane and I would like to come back to Laos for longer and visit the countryside. I’m tempted to say that even though we don’t have to do another visa run, we do have to cross the border again in 3 months and I wouldn’t be against using that time to take a few days to go up to Vang Vieng.

Laos has no elevators. Remember how I said I’d talk about all the stairs I’d climbed? In addition to the stairs at the Victory Arch and the concrete onion Ryan and my room was on the fourth floor of a building with oversized floors – better make sure that you haven’t forgotten anything before you start off on your adventures!

Much love to you all. Peace.

My Beach Bar Debut and Other Tribulations

It’s dead slow. I’m really ceasing to believe a lot of what I’ve been told about this island. Or maybe it’s changing.

I went out for a bit of a crazy girl’s night out with Amanda (fellow instructor of Ryan) and Robyn (Ryan’s DMT) a few nights ago. We went out for an absolutely fantastic dinner at La Piazzetta – indulged in the appetizer of Italian meats and cheeses, followed by pastas and pizzas and all topped off with liter of nice red wine. What I most appreciated is that we sat around a table enjoying all of this loveliness for an hour and a half – it was very leisurely and unrushed.

We all found out after dinner that none of us had to dive the following morning so we thought we’d go out to Deco Bar and continue our evening of girly chats for a bit longer. As it turns out, this ended quite contrary for one of us (not me) who got a call at 6:45 in the morning because the DM at her shop had called in sick and another one of us (me) got called in to dive in the afternoon. I was so knackered from only 5 solid hours of sleep.

The evening ended at 2:30 in the morning after a few hours of bar hopping and dancing at the beach parties and watching crazy drunk people think that they can jump rope with fire. One guy seriously caught on fire - his entire left side went up in flames and I’m sure that it wasn’t until the next morning that he realized just how badly he was burned.

Anyways, all this not just to tell you that I had a lovely crazy girls night out, but that the beach party was packed. So there are people on the island. They’re just here to drink and party. These people are not here to dive.

This morning Chris and I had a nice chill n chat session on our mutual patio, followed by a mediocre breakfast, followed by a walk on the beach to see naked boobies. And the beaches were covered in people napping off their hangovers.

So today on Phi Phi, every dive shop sent out a boat with 2 or 3 divers on it, but tonight the beach bars will be raging mad and tomorrow the beaches will be covered with people again napping off their hangovers.

It’s been an insanely slow week. I’ve actually enjoyed some really nice dives with some fun divers, which as I think I’ve said before doesn’t pay much, but when the divers are good it is so enjoyable and easy. And I’ve been mostly diving in the afternoon which I now prefer. There’s no-one on the dive sites, there’s no-one on the boat. It’s great.

I also had the most spastic open water student this week. I started out with two, but one dropped out after getting ill in confined. I don’t know why, but as Gar used to say, “I can’t want it more than she does.” That left me with Carl who was just scary insane. He focused on the most bizarre things – like what would happen if he lost his weight belt or what would happen if the inflator on his jacket malfunctioned. Carl tried to grab my reg out of my mouth twice (while underwater). Carl tried to hold his breath and go to the surface. Carl tried to climb on top of me both underwater and at the surface more than once.

At the end I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that I issued Carl a certification card, but he was able to do the skills to what PADI would consider mastery for an open water student and his form in the water wasn’t even all that bad. He is the only person that I’ve ever certified and felt like I should leave a little note in his logbook for his next instructor to let them know that it really isn’t my fault that I’m not a crap instructor because I know that the next PADI professional is going to take one look at him and go “who the hell certified him.” In my opinion this guy should not dive unsupervised and I told him as much.

At Barakuda the tension is palpable. I’m glad that Ryan and I leave for our visa run on Monday because I can feel myself getting more fed-up every day. Probably the biggest problem is that no-one is diving a lot. We’re all still making enough money to live, but if it continues at this rate, that’s all it’s going to be. Possibly when I come back it will be a bit busier. I’m actually getting a little fed up with some of the drama that goes on there as well as some of the completely demented business decisions that get made. I came here to dive not to listen to prima donnas.

So I’m a little anti-Barakuda at the moment which will either pass with a little distance from it that this visa-run will afford me or it won’t pass, in which case I will go see the manager at Ryan’s shop and beg her for a job and if that doesn’t work then I’ll have to email the owner and beg him for a job and if that doesn’t work then Ryan will just have to support me in the manner in which I’ve become accustomed.

We are nearing Christmas and the 5th anniversary of the Tsunami. I found out today that one of my colleagues lost his girlfriend in the Tsunami. I imagine that it will be quite a somber day here. Another of my colleagues and his wife are from New Orleans and she was expecting the Tsunami memorial to be a celebration of life in much the same way as they do in New Orleans, and was surprised to find out that it is quite the opposite. After Katrina it’s hard to imagine that even the spirit of New Orleans can take a day that became a mass funeral and turn it into a celebration of life.

We return to the island on Christmas day and I’m hoping that Ryan and I will get to go diving together that afternoon with cameras and all. Now that I know the sites so well, I’d really like to spend some time photographing. And I’d like to dive with Ryan – it’s been so long! I’m hoping we’ll have Christmas dinner together as well with friends – a little family dinner away from family.

As we leave Monday, you’ll probably hear from me before Christmas unless Vientiane doesn’t have wifi. It’s Southeast Asia, anything is possible.

Peace.

Chasing Mantas and Proust

The monsoon comes and goes and conditions ebb and flow depending on how close we are to full moon. The closer we are to full moon the more the currents rip making diving conditions more challenging. The farther we are from full moon, the easier it seems to be.

There are stories of manta rays and whale sharks and whales around the island, making those of us who believe in such things dream of large and glorious underwater encounters. For two days now I’ve been searching for mantas and coming up with morays. I’m not sure why we can’t just take the boat out in the morning and go looking for such things and once we spot them from the surface, then go diving. Why must I search such a large sea for such a big fish? It is perfect conditions for these critters as the sea is rich with plankton, making the viz a bit hazy, but certainly giving mantas and whale sharks a reason to stick around.

I just hope that when I see my first whale shark it is as awe-filled as the first time I stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon. I certainly am anticipating it in much the same way.

We’re settling into a nice routine I think. And I’m starting to feel like I’m really a part of this little expat community. And I really like this little expat community. Everyone has a story, a reason why they’re here. Some had what we would all consider “good” jobs back home and chucked it all to come live a bit of this incredible dream. Some are young kids just prolonging or avoiding settling into a 9 to 5 life or maybe they’ve just figured out that’s just not the way to go.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about life and living and dying. I think that the Existentialist movement was nothing more than the midlife crises of a few eloquent, creative men. I think I might be going through a bit of a midlife crisis. I don’t know what you call the funny emotions and thoughts I’ve been having, but I have concluded one thing – you only get one of these and you better make it count for what you want it to count for and enjoy the most of it. I feel like I’ve spent the better part of my life doing things that I was supposed to do, living up to imaginary expectations of imaginary ghosts. No more! No matter what comes next, from here on out my life is on my terms.

I think our society propagates fear and keeps us in a constant state of anxiety (and then puts us on Prozac to numb us). I haven’t seen the news in months. I have absolutely NO idea what is going on in the world and I am 100% okay with that. In fact I feel healthier for it. And I’m sure it hasn’t changed much – there’s wars going on somewhere over something stupid like religion or oil, massacres and persecutions are abundant, I’m sure, and someone’s still not happy with who’s president of the U.S. And have we figured out yet that the only way to reform healthcare in America is to get rid of lobbyists known as insurance companies and pharmaceuticals? No? So still not interested in watching the news or reading CNN.com.

I also think it’s strange that the human body can’t go more than 16 hours without getting sleep. That’s not a very efficient machine.

It’s a funny life we’re living at the moment. Ryan and I see each other very little but for the 8 or so hours that we’re sleeping. We work incredibly hard and I think that we’re both feeling very rewarded in what we’re doing. We’re living like gypsies in a tiny little room (though very large by island standards) with a bed, two seats that we never use, a clothes rack that we’ve converted into a “closet,” a small vanity and a 3 drawer Tupperware thing that houses undies and bathing suits. And a fridge atop of which we keep the kettle, the catfood and the Tupperware I use for my take-away. I wish Ryan would use the Tupperware for his take-away as well. It’s a small contribution to reducing my carbon footprint – this island is Styrofoam and plastic bag MAD!

I had an argument with Ryan a while back after he opened the flavor packet for his cup o salt and the contents went flying all over the bed and I asked what the frick he was doing making dinner on the bed anyways and he argued that we didn’t have a kitchen and I said, “yes, but we have a food prep area, it’s on top of the fridge. If you’ll just take the cat food down off of the fridge…”

We have chores. I still do the dishes, he picks up water from Water Hill and feeds the cats (mostly). I pay for laundry and drop it off and pick it up. He buys me chocolate and ice-cream. It works out okay. Sometimes we’ll argue about our chores, but since neither one of us wants the other’s chores we always agree in the end.

Well, it’s almost time for another visa run and I’ve got the whole thing planned for Vientiane (Laos) this time. We fly up on the 21st and will return to the island on the morning ferry Christmas Day with double entry tourist visas. The flights were hella cheap at $41 roundtrip. From what I’ve heard, Vientiane is actually supposed to have a certain charm, unlike KL, which everyone agrees is a shit-hole (I really wish people had coughed up that bit of info before we went on our KL run).

I’ll sign off with New Rule! If you’re reading this blog update, you’d better be thinking of a few lines to put in an email and send me! I know that you all think that nothing’s new, that it’s all same, same and NOT different, but believe me, hearing about how and what you’re doing makes me happy.

I’ll write more after I’ve seen a whale-shark.

Love to all. Peace, out!

Purple Rock, Red Rock

Yesterday morning as I arrived at work bright and early, I was greeted by Lee, the owner of Barakuda, as he bellowed at me from his third floor apartment above the shop, king of his domain from where he surveys his 2 inches of ocean view in the far distance past his backyard of junk heap pile in the vacant lot between Barakuda and the Phi Phi Market. Lee was all excited for some reason or other. He was not going with us on our very packed Hin Muang/Hin Daeng trip, but came down to see us off (or maybe to see if there were no-shows in which case he’d have snuck himself on the boat).

I was anticipating this trip a little bit like a 4 year old anticipates Christmas and the arrival of Santa Claus. I said to Russell and Veronica as we walked to the speedboat that expecting Manta Rays and Whale Sharks felt a little bit like praying for Santa Claus. Then I said the same thing to Paula and Juan in Spanish. And off we were 11 intrepid divers and 3 intrepid instructors, one of which was giddy as a school girl, off to see the absolute best diving that Phi Phi has to offer.

Hin Muang (Purple Rock) and Hin Daeng (Red Rock) are 90 km south of Phi Phi and about an hour and change away by speedboat when it’s flat. As we later found out it’s about 2 hours by speedboat when it’s not flat. In the high season it is the place for Manta Rays and Whale Sharks. Since I’ve seen a Manta Ray on Bida Nok a little over a month ago, I don’t think that it’s unreasonable to expect them to pop up every now and then and I didn’t think that it was really too much to hope for on this trip either. I had absolutely no expectation of really seeing a whale shark.

There’s no point in any suspense – we saw neither. What we did see was two of the most incredible dive sites I’m sure I’ve ever seen. The depth of the canyons, the richness of the corals and quantities of anemones was breathtaking. I can well imagine the awesomeness of seeing mantas swooping through the canyons. And since they’ve been untouched by divers for over 6 months and are not touched by divers on a daily basis AND are only approached by divers with good buoyancy skills they are in such pristine condition. Imagine flying through a somewhat smaller version of the Grand Canyon and you’ll come close to imagining what it’s like to swim through these structures that rise 60 meters from the sea floor to the surface. It was an experience of a lifetime. I hope to live it again real soon this time with the big fellas that draw the crowds there in high season.

I’ve been demoted to divemaster. There’s an insane number of fun divers funneling through the shop and smaller numbers of DSDs and Open Water or Advanced students. So most of us instructors are playing DM. It’s not great for the pocket book – DM work pay is crap compared to instructor pay, but what it lacks financially, it greatly makes up for in fun, fun, fun!

Last week I had the pleasure of touring around a divemaster from Spain here on vacation with his girl. He dove every day while she alternated a day of diving with a day of beach and yoga. He loved the diving here and he was so easy to dive with. He’d come in the evening, pack his bags, analyze his nitrox and order his food. All I had to do was toss my box out and order lunch. When his girl dove, he’d pack her crap as well. By the end of the week I was feeling much more comfortable speaking Spanish – I figure that if I could just get Spaniards for a month or so straight, some of it might actually really begin to stick.

A couple of nights ago, I’d talked to Norwegians who at the time were drunk, but I got one of them dreaming about seeing turtles. They had been to Koh Tao and dove Koh Tao. I told them diving was better here. They told me that’s what they’d told them on Koh Tao. But they’d not seen turtles on Koh Tao, so the one who wanted to see turtles got hooked. Yesterday they signed up and today they went diving with me and their girlfriends snorkeled. I gave them turtles, I gave them sharks. By the time we came out of dive 2 they were talking about going again this afternoon. Diving was definitely better here they told me. The girls were thrilled as they got two great snorkels and I told them where to go to see the sharks on Bida Nai.

Well one of them decided to go again this afternoon and the other one was off to nap, I suppose. So off we went again with him and his girlfriend and another friend. He was the only one diving. We ended the day with a dive on Malong and he got to spend 15 minutes with a turtle right at the beginning of the dive and saw another one during the dive. He came up saying that he would remember that experience his whole life. And that is why I love my job.

Having decided that it really wouldn’t be smart to start shopping for another point and shoot camera until I’d exhausted all avenues available to me in the cameras we already have, I’ve taken Ryan’s other camera – the one that he found at Breakwater – diving the past two days. He doesn’t like it, but I’ve decided that it’s a fine little camera and after just two days, I’m taking pretty decent pics with it. So I’m going to keep at it.

Here’s what today yielded:







Have I mentioned on the blog that swimming with sharks doesn’t get old? Have I mentioned on the blog that swimming with sharks is so freaking cool. I do not tire of it. I could honestly spend every dive just hunting for black tips and that would be okay with me. It is the greatest thing in the world. The zebra sharks are all right, they’re cute, but they just lay there and don’t move most of the time. It’s a huge treat to see them swim, just doesn’t happen very often. The black tips though, they look like real sharks and they dart around like real sharks – I think I get a bit of adrenaline going every time I see them and I’m a little bit addicted. I totally wanna go cage diving with the whites now.

I’m guessing that Ryan’s days are pretty much the same. Maybe for his parental units he will one day script us a blog entry so you can get his impressions of his daily life, not just my impressions of his daily life, which for now you can all assume are the same as mine except that he has no impressions of Hin Muang/Hin Daeng yet.

As for Chris, after a month and just as he was starting to get seriously bored here, he landed himself a fantastic gig. I’m actually really jealous, except that I can’t afford his job. He is going to be videographer for P.P. Seafrog, a local diveshop. That means that he gets to go diving every day they go out and video the dives and the divers. He makes his money on commissions from video sales. Not financially super lucrative, but here’s my reasoning. Most shops have a videographer and all of these people can’t be independently wealthy. So…while it may still be a bit slow at the moment, I’m guessing that he might be pleasantly surprised to find that come a month or two, he’ll be able to pay his rent and food and occasional samsong and diet coke.

It’s been funny to see Chris go through much of the same that Ryan and I experienced when we first got here. Being refused by shops because you don’t speak a language other than English, being refused by shops because you’re not male/female, being told that they’ll call you for freelance and never hearing anything, being refused by a shop because it’s the full moon the second Tuesday of the month. I was also watching Chris slowly run out of things with which to occupy his days. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, for people like us, Phi Phi is hella boring if you’re not diving. The occasional day off to catch up on sleep is nice, but other than that, I’d rather be diving.

Love to all, peace out.

High Season on Approach

The good weather is back, mostly. The ocean is flat, the diving is superb. Our big boat is back, so no more diving off the POS Pasadena. And I am in a great mood, mostly. The past week has also been tremendous financially. Big bahts were made!

Highlights of the past few days:

New friends were made and I sent two new very capable divers into the world. If you’re reading this, congrats Russell and Veronica for all your hard work!

Did one wreck trip mid week out to the King Cruiser. It was the first palatable trip I’ve made out there. First, the ocean was like glass, so I didn’t spend the speedboat ride over convinced I was going to die. Second there was virtually no current, so the wreck was actually navigable. Thirdly, the viz was so good, that we could see the wreck down at 20 meters from just below the surface. It’s still a hunk of steel at the bottom of the ocean and I still prefer pretty colorful reefs, but it was enjoyable. Fourthly, I actually got a good night sleep the previous night, which brings us to fifthly. I wasn’t narc’ed out of my skull this time thinking that the massive fishball that was in front of me was out to get me and convinced that I was going to get myself and my divers lost in an overhead environment. Narcosis is real and it sucks!

I certified 3 Advanced Open Water Divers, two of which had done their Open Water with me the previous week. Russell and Veronica are traveling together from jolly old England. Russell goes back to jolly old on November 1, but Veronica will be staying on in Southeast Asia after that. I’m trying to convince her to come back to Phi Phi and do her Divemaster with me (and I don’t put that invitation out to just anybody).

Chris finished his Divemaster. It was celebrated in Phi Phi Barakuda fashion with a snorkel test in front of the shop. It was a very strange experience participating in this fratboy ritual which I think is a little silly. But, as Chris’ certifying instructor it was my responsibility to pour a bucket of Sangsom and Coke down one end of snorkel (via funnel) while he chugged at the other end. It was not me that chased the bucket down with white vinegar though. That was all Adrian. The disturbing part is that Chris never flinched even when the taste changed from Sangsom to vinegar. Just looking at them do this always churns my stomach. I think Chris was still belching up vinegar 24 hours later. Ahhhh boys and their party tricks! Anyways, there is video evidence of all this which I’ll have to get from Chris.

Yesterday and today I was treated to some deep and long dives with more experienced divers. I had a Disco and her boyfriend yesterday. After taking about ½ an hour trying to get her to equalize and not being able to get below 3 meters I finally had to put her back on the boat so she’d stop stressing her ears out. Her boyfriend and I then went on a nice leisurely dive down to 20 meters on the deep side of Bida Nok. I’d not explored down that deep on the reef before and it was stunning – gave me even more to appreciate about that site. Bida Nok is by far my favorite site here. I love the big boulders – it’s like swimming through mountains. We came back up and swung around where I generally take my divers to see the Black Tips and were treated to a couple of appearances. His girlfriend worked her ears out to about 10 meters on the second dive (so glad I convinced her to have another go at it) and she was treated to a turtle and TONS of black tips – I ran out of fingers and toes on which to count them.

Today I took a Disco again. He did the first dive and came out feeling really seasick. Lunch break did not improve how he felt so he opted out of dive 2. The owner of Barakuda was on the boat so he and I did dive 2 together. We went to Bida Nai and we did a super long tour around Fantasy Reef, again down to about 25 meters or so. When Lee told me he was going up about 45 minutes into the dive, I hitched onto one of our group’s tours. Just like a ramora jumping from one shark to another and finished out my dive with them for a total of 68 minute dive. It’s been a long time since I’ve sucked down a tank. I saw the smallest little lionfish – about 3 inches long – so cute! I also saw a lobster and the biggest barracuda (4 of them) I think I’ve ever seen – a good meter long and very, very beefy!
Ryan has been busy as well working at Adventure Club. Right now he’s got so many different classes going on, it’s amazing he can keep straight what student is doing what.

High season is so close I can taste it.

Tomorrow Barakuda is planning a trip to Hin Daeng and Hin Muang. That’s a big day trip 90 km south of Phi Phi (about hour and a half by speedboat) to two phenomenal dive sites where the mantas and whale sharks hang out. I’m hoping to get out there, but I’ve been stuck at Shop 2 all night and it’s been rather quiet. It will be the first such trip of the season.

I can totally get behind this high season thing. Conditions are so much better, the diving’s so easy and the customers are pretty much guaranteed to be happy.

Still Waiting...

I feel like a prisoner counting down the days. Oh the melodrama, my life is so hard! But seriously, I’ve given away 2 Discos and a funny. No money for me (well, a tiny bit for booking them). Fatty and I are doing time together, resting on the bed, reading and watching the Simpsons and cursing Karma.

Walking into town for breakfast this morning, I overheard a French couple commenting that average October rainfall is 22 days. Yikes! If it keeps raining as today, there will be no water left in the sky. I slept poorly last night because of the stupid MSG laden fried rice Chris and I shared for lunch which had me getting up every half hour to drink water, and I heard the rain beat down. This morning in the complete zombie state, I was aware of Ryan leaving the room to go diving. Still it was pounding down with rain.

Before leaving, Ryan let Fatty Monster (his previous owners called him Monster, so since we named him Fatty, I’ve renamed him to Fatty Monster) into the room. He made a lot of noise demanding food then was very happy to flop on the bed squooshing his little body as close to me as possible while I read “The Fundamentals of Tech Diving” by Jarrod Jablonski. And still it rained.

Around 11:30 or so, it finally took a break and I thought the sky was empty. Really, it rained so hard that there couldn’t possibly be any water left up there. Chris and I took advantage of the break in the downpour to go grab some breakfast in town and stop by Barakuda, my place of employment so they remember that I’m more than just a voice at the other end of the telephone asking for my shop shift every night. I discovered that my fins had come in (in the wrong color, but what the hell). I don’t remember if I told you guys that in the same week as the slip n fall fiasco, a few days earlier, one of my fins had “bounced” off the POS Pasadena, gone forever, but not forgotten and greatly regretted.

This afternoon, Shop 2 from 2 to 6. I’ve been in Shop 2 every day and Chris and I have taken advantage of the time to get him through all of his Divemaster exams on which he’s done very well, but to my surprise he did not get 100% on all of them. Little overachiever that he is, he was adamant about maintaining an “A” average, which I think he did.

Ryan came to visit on his way home, and the sky took the opportunity to open up again and dump another three or so inches of rain. Here is the video that Chris took:



And an hour since and it is still dumping down.

The island is currently infested by Israelis and Chinese. It’s nearing the end of the Israeli holidays as we’re getting through Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Having read up a bit on my Jewish lore (i.e., I wiki’ed Rosh Hashanah), I am wondering what all these fine God fearing Jews are doing partying it up (disco, disco) during the holiest of Jewish holy days.

Not sure what occasion landed all these Chinese here.

I know you’re all dying to hear more on the Israeli front! A few nights before we left for the visa run, I was sitting at shop 2 again, minding my own business, again. The guesthouse next door closes up shop by way of putting up a tarp in front of their desk around 8:00p.m. It is often my job to respond to inquiries for a room by simply pointing to the desk next door. At about 8:01, I did this for two Israeli gentlemen who had walked up the road and 5 minutes later, upon, I’m sure, determining that there was naught else up the road yonder, had come back in this direction. They asked me about a room and I pointed. The guesthouse lady (Apple) had not left yet, so she put down the tarp and showed them a room.

8:00p.m. is NOT a good time to be looking for a room. The guesthouses are closing up shop and possibly only the very expensive luxury hotels have reception desks open past 8:00. (Not sure what you do if you’re shaking your thing on the beach all night and you lose your room key – sleep on the beach, I guess.)

Having looked at the room the two gentlemen decided that they would bargain down the price of the room. This made me laugh. Two seconds earlier the guesthouse was closed. Two seconds earlier they had not sold the room. Two seconds later, having pulled out the following phrases, “you are being very unfair” and “how could you do this to me” the two gentlemen left. The bargaining is not Israeli. This is Thailand – I’m quite sure that the first sentence about Thailand in the Lonely Planet guide is that you can bargain down just about anything. The two other comments are very Israeli though. And it makes me laugh!

On the work front, neither team is real good for business. Chinese don’t swim (I think I mentioned this before). Taking Chinese on Discover Scuba is a bit of an exercise in herding cats. First, if you have more than one participant, you’ll be lucky if you can get both to stay underwater at the same time. One or two is an ideal number because once you are able to get them underwater simultaneously, you need to drag them around by their tank valve because they will not propel themselves through the water. Since you only have two hands, you can’t really effectively tow more than two. This results in them coming out of the water with near full tanks while you have sucked down near every last molecule of your available air supply. And you’re exhausted.

So, on one of my last posts, I left you abruptly having told you that moments after his arrival, Chris managed to piss off Buddha. He’s convalescing and keeping me company in my misery. And he’s working on his Divemaster requirements that can be completed without getting in the water. He is antsy to go diving (as am I). He’s antsy to be a Divemaster so he can get work. I forgot to tell him that he was coming to the monsoon and that there would be no diving for him. Ha ha, no diving for him. At this moment, he is supposed to be completing his mapping project.

I had my stitches removed and Thank Buddha, Ryan was able to go with me. The nurses at the Phi Phi Hospital are not gentle. And I'm a wuss who's become way too accustomed to medical care in America that no longer hurts AT ALL. Removal of stitches was supposed to be painless. Yeah, right. When she DUG to get under one of them it felt like she was giving me an injection in the bottom of my foot. It is hard to trust your well being to someone who keeps hurting you. This is kind of a metaphor for life if you think about it. But thank Buddha, Ryan was there to hold my hand.

And still it’s dumping. Really, I thought the sky would be empty by now.

Thai Language

I was writing an email to my friend Mrs. Oliver last night and realized that there are many things that I have not talked about on the blog. Doesn’t my friend Jen have the coolest last name? It’s new to her, she’s just getting the hang of it I’m sure, probably still tripping over it a bit when she introduces herself. I love the name Oliver. Jen Oliver. It flows nicely off the tongue.

Well, I was supposed to get my stitches removed yesterday, but Ryan thought it might be a good idea to wait a bit longer as it’s still bleeding the slightest bit, which means it’s not closed up yet. Not surprising with all the walking around that we’ve been doing. Ryan gave me strict orders to take it easy and then yesterday morning was shaking me out of bed to go to breakfast and to show Chris around. Today I’ve done a lot more relaxing with Fatty so I’m hoping that tonight Ryan can take the stitches out. I trust him more to remove them than the mean evil nurse lady who stitched me up without properly novacaining me first.

We’re back on the island with Chris, obviously. Chris is hard at work to finish up his Divemaster so he can get to work and make money. And I’m back to working shop hours and starting to get a little edgy with regards to getting back in the water. Being stuck with only working shop hours is working well with getting Chris through his exams but does not pay enough (if anything).

So back to all this stuff that I’ve revealed to Jen but have kept hidden from all you blog readers…

The Thai language…it is painfully difficult for me to learn it. And I’ve finally realized why. I learned more Malay in three days in Kuala Lumpur from reading street signs and billboards than I’ve managed to learn Thai in 4 months. And I’ve figured that it’s because of the alphabet. Malay uses the Roman alphabet, which I can read and phonetically work words out. Thai has it’s own alphabet which I can’t read and when it’s spelled phonetically, it’s never spelled the same way twice (for example Koh vs. Ko for island, Phi Phi Ley is also spelled Phi Phi Leh or Pi Pi Leh or Pi Pi Ley depending on who you ask). It is difficult for me to remember a word if I ask someone “how do you say…” They’ll answer me and I’ll spend some time repeating it in my head, but then it goes away. It took me weeks to wrap my head around “hello” and “thank you.” I can now also say “fish,” “shark,” “cat,” “rice,” “sticky rice” and today I figured out that “tuk tuk” means “cheap cheap.” I’m working on how to say “no thank you.” I’m also fairly ok ordering my meal in Thai. But if you think about it, it’s quite abysmal.

I think Ryan's actually doing better than me at the Thai. And he's the one who says he's awful at languages, yadda, yadda, yadda.

We have Rosetta Stone in Thai, but honestly, I don’t need to be able to say “The boy on top of the airplane” in Thai. What I really need is to be able to communicate with my boat captain and the tank boys. Sometimes that’s frustrating. Like when I lost one of my fins - it would have been nice to communicate exactly that I expected us to find it when we went back out in the afternoon.

And the last part of this is that if I’m going to put a concerted effort into learning another language, Italian, German or Swedish would be much more valuable to my current profession than Thai.

More tomorrow as I’ve had to talk myself out of diving. I am being reasonably prudent. I have sold two Discover Diving customers and they want to go tomorrow. With Baht signs dancing in front of me, I was chomping at the bit to take them. But I am going to be cautious and let my foot have at least one more day out of the water. I would be really mad at myself if I went back in the water tomorrow and it got worse and then I was out of the water for another week. So I will pass on the big Baht and stay dry another day.

Sawadeeka.

I Got the KL Blues, Baby!

KL sucks! I’d have to read back to what my impressions were of our Penang visa run, but it might have been that we were so grateful to get out of the minivan that anything would have done. KL is dirty and expensive.

This morning we went to the Thai Embassy. There are warning notices at every window, heeding against trying to get tourist visas for the purposes of work. While it’s a little nerve-wrecking, if the system is stupid they made it thus and thus they should fix it. We handed in our passports without the lady saying so much as boo to us. Pick-up tomorrow between ½ two and ½ four.

Cian had asked us if we’d mind picking up a hard-drive for him he’d had recovered and the hard-drive guy met us back at the guesthouse at 12:30 as arranged by Cian. We just had time between the embassy and the meeting to grab a quick lunch of acceptable Indian curry and excellent chicken tandoori, all accompanied by a plain lassi (yum) and some garlic naan (double yum).

Dinner last night – we walked around looking for Indian food, but in this neighbourhood the streets are lined with Moroccan/Lebanese/Iranian restaurants. We indulged in some lovely Tagine, Pastilla and Moroccan salad. As we were looking at the menu, Ryan is pointing at various dishes that he’s had that I’ve made for him. He likes Moroccan food. And for dessert? Very expensive Haagen Dazs.

We shopped all afternoon and were extremely disappointed. The tech stuff – not as cheap as Thailand. I was looking for a little point and shoot camera that I can use in my day-to-day underwater adventures and haven’t found anything. Ryan thinks I should hold out for the Canon G10, but that’s a lot of money and he doesn’t seem very keen on going halfsies, even though he wants it more than I do. I just want something small and compact. We went to the tech mall we’d been told about, expecting tons of choices in cameras with underwater housings and I’d done my research and had narrowed myself down to 3 options. None available really and next to impossible to find underwater housings.

Also in desperate need of bathing suits and have found nothing reasonably priced. So at a loss there!

At the end of the day, my gimp foot is killing me and now it’s moved up to my knee from walking funny AND I have nothing to show for it!

Tonight’s dinner ended up at Outback Steakhouse. Here’s how…a restaurant by the name of “The Ship” had been recommended to us by Cian for steaks and ribs. Ryan really wanted steak, and quite frankly the thought of a good ribeye was appealing to me. We’d spotted The Ship as we were walking around yesterday. Inside was quite nice – saloon-y steakhouse décor. We were seated and given menus. We started perusing. Suddenly Ryan says (sarcastically), “Score, they have sharkfin soup.” I said, “I’m sorry, we have to leave, I can’t eat here.” We left. And it’s exactly what I told the host on our way out, omitting the “sorry” part and adding “you have sharkfin soup.” That was completely offensive to me.

As we’re walking down the street to Outback, I pondered the somewhat hypocritical “you’ll eat a cow, but you won’t eat a shark.” Ryan’s view on it is quite simple: we breed cows for food. As much as that is completely unappealing to me as well (and I must say that I’m enjoying cow less and less), he’s right. Sharks on the other hand are fished out of the ocean to near depletion just for their fins, their fins are cut off and they’re tossed back in to drown. Following Ryan’s train of thought, we can’t grow new sharks. They don’t even have the decency to use the entire animal for food. I can’t get with a culture that thinks it’s okay. It’s my biggest gripe against Asia as a whole.

Outback was alright. Just can’t muster up the taste for meat I guess. Ryan really enjoyed it. But dessert was the bomb - Thunder from Down Under (not men in g-strings, but hot chocolate brownie topped with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream, topped with a scoop of Chantilly cream, all drizzled in chocolate sauce and chocolate shavings – so much better than men in g-strings!). I had to say Chantilly Cream because we wiki’ed Chantilly today and I explained to Ryan that in France, whipped cream is called “crème Chantilly.” We wiki’ed “Chantilly” after wiki’ing “A View to a Kill,” which I’m currently watching.

Tomorrow we pick up our passports and go back to Phuket where hopefully we’ll meet Chris. He was supposed to land tonight. Haven’t heard news from him since he last updated his facebook status from Bangkok six hours ago. I'm a little worried - I hope he found his way okay.

I don’t want to sound all negative-like, so let me pull some positive out of the experience. Always interesting seeing different places. Ryan got to ride the metro for the first time. The Petronas Towers are stunning, especially at night when they’re all lit up. Great new food experiences. Now I can say that’s I’ve walked out of a restaurant, which I’d honestly never done before. Increasingly, I'm learning that I am not a city girl. If I once was, I ain't no more!

But the best is spending time with Ryan where we actually get to talk and laugh and have leisurely time. We don’t see each other all that much on the island and we don’t’ spend enough good quality time together and when we do, we’re generally knackered. We have mostly late night conversations before falling asleep when, generally, one of us is already half asleep. So it’s good to catch up a bit (even if right now, he’s got his headphones on as I’m screaming at him to be social). Ah young love!

My Name is Alexia: Adventures with Karma

There are times when Karma is trying to tell you something and you just don’t listen. Now I’m listening! About two weeks ago, I dropped a crate full of wet dive gear weighing approximately 15 pounds on my left big toe. I’m pretty sure that I fractured it. It didn’t turn all the funky colors that John’s toe kaleidoscoped through, but the pain did escalate and has yet to go away fully and it’s still swollen. But two days ago now, I slipped on the fuel-laden deck of the piece of shit boat, Pasadena, we’ve been forced to dive off of since our big boat is at the shipyard. In a very cartoonesque manner, my butt came out from under me and what stopped my fall was my foot jamming into a piece of protruding metal from the railing. Now the pain from the gash kept together by 3 stitches has taken front stage to the pain in my toe!

The gash in the foot occurred right before dive 2 whilst on an afternoon dive with two Discover Scuba Diving students on a day that I had opted to take off diving, but being the only instructor who hadn’t dove in the morning and who wasn’t laying home sick with the flu, I drew the short stick to go afternoon diving. One of my students was already in the water when this happened. My other student implored me to take care of my foot before we went diving. Instead I hurriedly stuck a large piece of gauze to it and wrapped layers of tape around it. The sight of blood pouring out of my foot was quickly making me very woozy and every moment spent on deck was reducing the chances of my hopping in for dive 2. In EFR I learned that the blood coming out of my foot was arterial blood as it was bright red in color and spurty!

Back on shore, I got rid of my students and went to collect Ryan at Adventure Club (his shop) to take me to the hospital and started hobbling down Main Street. A friend of ours took pity and loaned me his bike so I could wheel myself to the hospital. I still had the bike until this morning and it was a tremendous help.

The stitching process I was not looking forward to. First came shots of novocaine which were painful enough. I started screaming, digging into Ryan’s hand and yelling at him, “I don’t like her, tell her I don’t like her” (referring to the mean evil nurse lady with all the needles). I’m very confused how she did the novocaine because the 3rd stitch was completely out of novocaine range and I screamed so loud I’m sure they heard me clear cross the island.

Prior to this, I’ve spent about the past week feeling a little burnt out. I was not giving 100% of my best customer service. My briefings were lacking and I was edgy and I’m sure my customers could tell. We were dealing with less than ideal conditions at Barakuda. Our big boat motor crapped out and off it went to the shipyard. So we’ve been diving off the POS Pasadena, which is okay when conditions are flat, but we’ve had a big stormfront coming through so conditions have been positively craptacular.

One advantage of working at Barakuda is that while I still have to do shop shifts, I don’t necessarily have to sell what I dive. The disadvantage to that is that you sometimes get people who’s expectations have been built up a little too much. And you’re left to deal with the fallout. I’d been dealing with a bit of that as well last week. One of the guys who’s worked at Barakuda for quite some time spends, in my opinion, way too much time on the sauce. And the crap that comes out of his mouth when he’s drunk is fodder for making those of us who have to dive his sales very upset. Ryan calls him Peter Griffin – there is a very, very, very large physical resemblance.

So everything was pissing me off and I was getting a little anti-Barakuda and very much in need of a break. Karma dealt me this and now I can’t dive for a week.

I would have been even more pissed if we hadn’t already scheduled a visa run to Kuala Lumpur to occupy four of those seven days that my foot is requiring me to be out of the water. I think that I’m experiencing a very small taste of what it’s like to be a Mexican laborer in California. I’ve been injured. My injury cost me 1350 baht (which is like 38 bucks, but when you consider that I only made 50 bucks that day, spending 38 on health care sucks), I’m uninsured and I’m out of work for seven days during which time I cannot make any money.

I’ve considered asking Barakuda to pay for my hospital bill since their boat broke me, but I go back and forth on how much of it is their fault and how much is mine and how much of it is Karma kicking me in the ass, telling me I needed a break. In all fairness though, I had already complained to them how slippery the deck of the POS Pasadena was which in the States would give me big cause for having them pay for my hospital bill. But then again, in the States, I’d also be covered by workman’s comp. I dunno. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. There’s also much to be said for still having employment!

Over the weekend of the 19th was International Clean-up. Our friends from Blue View organized a major clean-up effort – one day of beach and one day of underwater. I was called in to work to do some diving for the beach day, but I was able to join them for the underwater one. The plan was to do two dives off of Phi Phi Ley to clean up some of the fishing nets the Thais tie to the reef. Cutting fishing nets off of staghorn coral is a daunting, incredibly infuriating task. Dive 1 we did in front of Viking Cave – huge cave cut into the side of the island and inhabited by Thais who scale the side of the island to go get the nests for the birds nest soup. In front of it, we found large quantities of tires and batteries. I even found a camera in its case (not underwater housing). Ryan was finally yesterday able to get the pictures off the memory stick. Unfortunately nothing that I can send to the tabloids and make millions. Rats!

Dive 2 we did at the south end of the island called Grouper’s Corner. About 20 minutes into that dive, unbeknownst to me, our friend Lisa was forced to do an emergency ascent. I found her on the boat, breathing O2 when my buddy and I got back up. What puzzled me later was that I ran across her buddy about 50 minutes into the dive solo diving, screwing around with leopard sharks in 15 meters of water and 3 minutes into deco (i.e., no longer recreational limits). This person is a dive pro and apparently also a retard.

Lisa spent the past week at the recompression chamber in Phuket. She did bend herself. She already began experiencing symptoms of decompressions sickness on the boat and continued to experience symptoms for just about the duration of the week. But she’s recovering and only needs to be out of the water for a month. When you consider all the possible alternatives, she’s very lucky. It will be interesting to hear all the details and stories from her talks with the chamber attendants. She is also very grateful that she had DAN insurance. They covered everything. She said otherwise it would have cost her 7300 Euros.

A month ago just about now, we’d planned this visa run to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Ryan, you may recall, had categorically refused to get on another 12-hour minivan ride ever again after our Penang visa run. Honestly, with advanced planning, we flew to KL for barely more than the cost of the minivan to Penang. Our friend Gee randomly decided to come with us. We were to meet at 8:00 this morning at Phi Phi Bakery to have breakfast before catching the 9:00 ferry to Krabi (I had to keep reminding myself that we were flying out of Krabi and not Phuket).

Gee called early this morning to say that he couldn’t find his passport. His passport has disappeared. He’s fairly certain it was stolen by a certain person he had over in his room. So now, instead of a fun filled 3 days in KL with us (which he needed as much as I did), he’s stuck figuring out the logistics of getting a new passport. Luckily, he’s got until the 9th of October before he has to leave Thailand without incurring a daily overstay fee, but the British consulate told him it would take 10 days to get a replacement passport. And it being low season, he absolutely does not have the money for this whole mess. Whoever stole his passport has the devil coming after him/her.

I’m typing this from a bus taking us from the KL airport to KL Sentral Station. I know my dad is thinking that I should be looking outside at the scenery instead of at my computer screen, but honestly, it looks like every other suburban highway. We could be in the outskirts of Paris, Taipei, the Bronx (hell, we just passed Yankee Stadium).

We have plans to eat a lot of Indian food while here, do lots of shopping and maybe see a movie. We may go see the Petronas Towers (world’s 2nd tallest buildings?) and possibly hit the aquarium only because it’s been recommended. We’ll keep you posted.

Goodnight and Good Luck!

We're Not in Kansas Anymore...

Ryan posted on Facebook yesterday that even though he’s living the dream, he doesn’t have anything to say on his status update because he’s still working a job, getting a night’s sleep and hanging with friends. I suppose that there’s a certain amount of truth to that.

As we’re settling into what our life is projected to be for the foreseeable future, very little seems to change from day to day. The island has more or less tourists on it. A new string of Discover Scuba Divers comes through our shops and some stay around for a full course. We work more or less shop hours depending on our diving schedule. And we get more or less sleep depending on the 3 Hs, how late we ate a heavy curry and how late we had to work. And we more or less see our friends and socialize.

While the monsoon was already supposed to be underway when we arrived in June, we’ve been rather lucky with the weather. Up until about a month ago, the days were remaining very bright and sunny. A little over a month ago, the rains started in periodically with a few good storms lasting a couple of days each. Now we are in the midst of a full-blown monsoon where never a day goes by without a substantial downpour. So long as the wind stays away, it does not affect the diving too much, but it does deter people from getting on a boat and spending what they perceive to be 4 hours in ghastly conditions. I suppose that if I didn’t know better, I’d be a little weary of anyone telling me that it’s a good idea to go diving in such downpours. But honestly, there is naught else to do, except sit in a bar and drink!

Last week was a good week – I dove for six days straight, which means I made money. I’ve learned during this low season period to take any work that I can, even if it’s just a fun diver since your next day of work may not be just around the corner. I’ve gone four days without diving, which makes me substantially grumpy. It’s too much time spent sitting in the shop; it’s too much time spent out of the water; and it’s too long to go without making a few baht.

Last week was also a good week because I had what must be the greatest dive ever! I’ve already emailed some about it (not sure why I didn’t just do a blog post – maybe because I wanted to make sure that some people who aren’t signed up for email alerts of our blog got it).

I’d been diving in the morning with a couple of nice Spanish DSDs (did I mention previously that I’m doing a lot of teaching/tour leading in Spanish). I got a call while on the boat to take two fun divers out in the afternoon. Still not sure why I got picked, but was not complaining – as I said in the previous paragraph, at this time of year, you’re never sure when your next Baht is coming, so might as well take all the Bahts that are offered!

We picked Bida Nok (before, since and always, my favorite site here). Conditions were perfect – slack tide so no currents. This means that I was able to pick my dive and I opted for the deep side where Mother Nature does not always let you go (unless you want to be kicking against some pretty intense current). We dropped down in the little bay and soon saw two cuttlefish, which I always deem to be a treat. We leisurely made our way to the deep side, staying around 10 meters (30 feet) where we have good chances of seeing Black Tip Sharks. This is exactly what I was scanning the horizon for, eyes darting back and forth on full alert, when I happened to look over my left shoulder and there was a Manta Ray keeping pace with us. It was the most amazing experience ever. So unexpected and so rare and so special. I was overcome with emotion. We watched it for a while and then it flew away. It was truly a very special moment for me.

The dive continued on to be magnificent. After the Manta Ray left us, we continued on and came across a zebra shark swimming. He spent a few minutes swimming around us with his little remora friend. After he left us, we came upon Mr. Turtle and as we’re looking at Mr. Turtle, a Black Tip swims past behind him.

It was an extraordinary 45 minutes. When we surfaced and got back on the boat I had to make sure my divers understood just exactly how special that was. Then I had to properly adjust their expectations for the second dive. Then I had to call Ryan from the middle of the Andaman Sea!

The island is welcoming many Israeli tourists at the moment. It appears that it’s their university holiday-time and they travel in droves. We’d been warned about them and I absolutely abhor stereotypes (even though experience has taught me that stereotypes are based on some nugget of truth). A friend of ours described his selling technique for Israelis and I thought it was a bit abrupt and quite rude, but now I understand. Abrupt and rude avoids a three hour argument.

My own experience now has led me to the conclusion that they’re pushy, rude and entitled and I find it incredibly off-putting. An argument I overheard a few days ago between six Israelis and the guesthouse lady next door to Shop 2 completely floored me and I am now completely put-off by an entire race! We’ve met some lovely Israelis though but generally, you’ll find that the nice (and more importantly polite) ones were either raised somewhere other than Israel and moved to Israel later in life or were born in Israel and raised elsewhere.

And as I put this out there into the ether, I know that some will read it as anti-semitic. It’s not. Strange how a nationality is so intertwined with its religion. If I said that I think it's true: the French are rude, which they sometimes are, most would take it at face value.

I suppose that whilst I’m on stereotypes, I can give you a few others that are proving to the true (and at times amusing).

Irish are extraordinarily heavy drinkers. Irish can’t swim. There is no race whiter than the Irish. Even my boyfriend who is incredibly white is still not as white as the Irish. There, I’ve picked on them enough.

Spaniards can’t keep their freaking hands off the reef even though you tell them not to touch anything (but then you point out a Scorpionfish and the gleaming look in your eye dares them to touch it and they don’t). I seriously think that my briefings to Spaniards are now going to include the following: if you touch, dive over, no refund.

Asians shouldn’t be within a 100 feet of the water, period. It’s astounding that repeatedly, at the Olympics, numbers of them prove to be such incredible athletes.

Eastern Europeans, Americans, English and French tend to do alright with the diving.

Americans are loud and overly boisterous.

Apparently Americans eat a lot.

French are quite reserved and don’t show an overwhelming amount of emotion. (Wasn't true with the very cute and overly enthusiastic young snowboard pro that I Disco'ed last week.)

Latin Americans remain some of the most well-adjusted, happy, jovial people I have ever encountered. I have no idea if that's a stereotype or not, but it is my experience.

I’m used to being around a multitude of nationalities, but I wonder how Ryan is taking in all of this. We haven’t really talked much about it. While admittedly we come from a fairly diverse community living in California, this is a vastly different experience. Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore.

Extra, extra, read all about it...

Ryan was offered permanent employment today! YAY!

Just in time for the most miserable month of the year as is rumored, we are both gainfully employed and awaiting high season.

Love to all.

We interrupt this regularly scheduled program...

We are “living” with a narcoleptic cat named Fatty. He flops on the bed, belly up and passes out. He also howls more than Kitten, if that’s possible. But really, the only time he shuts his trap is either when he’s purring or passed out. And even when he’s purring, it can quickly turn into a howl. Fatty is not fixed, but somehow Fatty is a big mush. Not aggressive. And narcoleptic. If he were fixed he would just melt he’d get so mushy.


Porno Kitty


What a good head!


We are also “living” with a cat we call Little Girl. Little Girl looks like what you’d expect the love child of a gray tabby and an orange tabby with some white thrown in to look like. She’s still a wee bit shy, unlike Fatty who went from being unsure of whether he wanted to come into our room at all to flopping on the bed like porno kitty within 24 hours. Little Girl is warming up to the whole human experience.
Mostly they live outside, but when we’re home they do hang with us quite a bit. And it’s costing us about 60 Baht a week to feed the monsters. The other night I didn’t get home until past midnight and was surprised to be greeted by a big howler monkey. Ryan had kept Fatty in to keep him company.



It’s been quite some time since I’ve written – mostly because I’ve been insanely busy. Some highlights:

• We had about a week of absolutely spectacular conditions. It was a great preview to what awaits us high season.

• I got to see two octopi mating. That was such a treat and I’m very bummed that I didn’t have any camera with me. I had a feeling it was going to happen. I hovered and watched these two interacting for quite some time, skirting around each other and flirting with each other. And then one tentacle reached across…After it was over there was some rather aggressive behavior. One “ran” after the other and completely “swallowed” it up. Shortly thereafter, the swallowed-up one was able to free itself and promptly swam off.

• I’ve found where the Black Tip Reef Sharks like to hang out and have had a few great dives surrounded by them. On one occasion, I was literally surrounded by 10 to 15 of them swimming around us during a very extended safety stop. It was very impressive. A few times one of them came very close to me only to be squared away by the sound of my bubbles as I exhaled.

• I did my 400th dive and was lucky enough to have 4 really great fun divers and a DMT helping me, so my 400th dive was over an hour long and included a leopard shark, a black tip, a turtle, an octopus and a cuttlefish.

• After about a week of freelancing every day for Barakuda Dive Center, I was offered a permanent job with them and I was happy to accept. They gave me two t-shirts and wrote my name on the board for shop hours and it was official. I’ve now been with them for about 3 weeks. They’re a nice bunch of people (the only guy there who I thought was an idiot and a total drama queen quit after being the butt of the boss’ displeasure on a few issues).

• The island has once again tremendously slowed down. This cycles every month as the full moon approaches and every one leaves for the full moon party. But still the island seems slower than last month. And a lot of the people who are here seem to be nearing the end of their holidays and have little money left.

• Ryan is still freelancing, though is spending a good amount of his non-diving time at a shop called Adventure Club doing shop hours and the odd bit of diving. There’s a chance that they’ll hire him on for the high season (unless something else comes along while they’re making up their minds I suppose).

• Ryan was also sick for about 4 days with a miserable cold. The worst of it was the sickest and most unhappy I think I’ve ever seen him. Poor sweet pea. He did not give it to me so far and for that I am grateful.

• I finally got my bamboo tattoo! I love it! I wanted a shark and a turtle and can’t decide on an octopus or seal. So for now it’s a turtle and shark. It took 7 hours and parts of it were incredibly painful, even after downing 8 Tylenols. But he did nice work. And it will probably be my last tattoo unless I decide to add the octopus or seal to it. I don’t think that I will soon forget how much this one hurt.

We ‘ve planned our next visa run. My initial thought and Ryan agreed was to take a proper break before high season starts. The plan was to go to Bali, meet up with the Elliotts and dive for a couple of days after dropping our passports off at the Thai Embassy in Denpassar. But after looking a little bit at how September is shaping up – it’s supposed to be real slow and the fact that Bali is a lot of traveling for a short break, we’ve decided to go to Kuala Lumpur instead. We’ll leave on the 9:00 a.m. ferry out to Krabi on the 28th and be in KL by 3:00 p.m. The flight is only about an hour. We’ll drop our passports off at the embassy on the 29th and pick them up on the 30th and be able to take the last flight from KL to Phuket at 8:00 p.m. on the 30th. We’ll spend the night in Phuket Town and have the morning to go to Tesco before the afternoon ferry. And since Gee let us tag along last month on his Phuket run, we’re letting him tag along on our visa run.

Keira will be back in October and we’re thinking that we will stay on at Valentine. But if we leave Keira’s room, we will suddenly find ourselves in the midst of very bare-bones living, so a trip to Tesco to get a little fridge and a hot water maker is of the essence before she returns.

Happy Labor Day to all. Have a safe weekend.