Erawan Waterfalls

I will write more later but wanted to post some pics for now. I went swimming in the waterfalls but, as you can imagine, the pictures are not something I want floating around the world of cyberspace. Soaking wet, swimming in my clothes, hair flattened to my head from the rushing fall of the cold water. But it was a blast.

Night on the Town with the Girls

Having Fun

My student James and me at a music concert.
Courtney at tea looking stunning in her hat and so attractively positioned by the hotel art.
Gina looking smashing at pre-tea drinks at an Italian restaraunt (we were early and killing time; had a blast admiring the stemware).
Sporting my newest hat at tea. I was delighted when I looked around and saw several customers using fans. I asked the waitress and she promptly brought me one to match my dress. It all felt very genteel.

It just keeps getting better

This past weekend, my school had a four day weekend, a substantial break that closely followed on the heels of a week’s vacation in mid-April for the Songkran holiday. For the last hurrah, I traveled to Krabi, Thailand with my fellow colleagues and frequent travel companions, Courtney and Sunny (and Daylin). Over the course of the holiday, one of our conversations touched on the bittersweet truth that if our school system did not have such an accommodating calendar, the three of us would not have been nearly as happy as we have been for the past two years. Despite that valuable perk, it has not been enough to sway any us to sign on for another year.

But don’t get the impression that all of our conversations centered on the workplace. I have been careful to choose travel companions who know how to separate their social lives from the workplace. And besides, in a paradise like Krabi, it is extremely difficult to even think about reality or career difficulties. From the moment we climbed onto the longtail boat from the Ao Nong pier, our packs the only burden weighing us down, we were swaddled in cloak of enchantment that protected us from the usual preoccupations. Majestic rock formations, tranquil waters, and fine sandy beaches occupied all brain activity (with the occasional interruption of a beautifully sculpted male specimen, exceptional washboard abs on display while strolling along the beach).

I spent most of the four days at the beach marveling alternately at how fortunate I have been to visit such unforgettable places and wondering why I have chosen to remove myself from this undeniably fantastic wonderland. In many ways, America will pale in comparison to these newly experienced tropical escapes.

The pace of this holiday was similar to my other beach excursions (wake up, breakfast, nap, massage, swim, lunch, nap…) but to change things up a bit, my cohorts and I opted to stay at a slightly more upscale resort. No spiders landing on my face or intimidating lizards claiming sections of a cramped bathroom. No additional charges for toilet paper or towels. No, West Railey Beach in Krabi seems to cater to travelers who actually have a viable income, as opposed to the usual South-East Asia backpackers catching the sights on a shoestring budget. It was a welcome change from the ramshackle bungalows that I have become all too acquainted with in my travels. Instead of the usual mildew covered tiles in a makeshift bathroom, our hotel room boasted an immaculate soaking tub (for which I brought bubble bath), complete with complimentary bathrobes and slippers. Large umbrellas in the room for those rainy days. A patio surrounded by lush, flowering vegetation. A bar by the pool tended by a charming and handsome young man. Yes, it was quite the arrangement.

Not that you really need that kind of commercial opulence when the natural landscape itself grants travelers with an unrivaled visual experience. Growing up on the east coast, the shoreline I am accustomed to does not offer quite the dramatic topography as Krabi Beach does. By no means do I wish to suggest that the mid Atlantic coastline is lacking. I will always esteem the beloved and familiar Outer Banks as a trustworthy haven, cannot underestimate the peaceful calm engendered by the ocean air and roar of the crashing surf, nor discount the rustic charm of the weathered cottages. And while the basic elements for both beaches are similar (ocean, sand, waves) the presence of the looming cliffs in Krabi create a setting that is at once magical and foreboding, simultaneously exotic and mysterious. Reminiscent of “Fantasy Island” or “The Most Dangerous Game.”

Recent Ruminations

At times I find myself wrangling with the idea of whether or not to become an adult. There does appear to be some element of choice in the matter these days, at least in the majority of the western world. Just because I am a thirty three year old, college educated professional female doesn’t mean I am automatically granted access to the wonderful world of adulthood. I sure as hell don’t feel like an adult. I’m often irresponsible and have trouble abiding by certain laws. I indulge in reckless whims on a regular basis. I eat cake for breakfast. I write personal emails at work. I put everything off until the last possible minute. I take naps on a fairly regular basis. I flirt unabashedly and happily reap the fruits that I sow. I don’t read the newspaper or watch the news and I am at best a sporadic voter. I don’t plan for the future, have no clue what I will live off of when I retire. Every couple of years I change jobs. All these adolescent behaviors overshadow my limited adult characteristics—I pay taxes and I earn a salary.

Among my peers, I know this protracted evasion of adulthood is a rapidly flourishing trend. There is even a name for this new breed of middle agers, grasping at whatever viable shred of jejune youthfulness that they can hold onto. Yupsters. Forty year olds who exhibit characteristics more typical of twenty year olds. I’ve dated a few of them and know first hand what about this phenomenon. And then there is that whole ‘sixty is the new forty’ initiative…which would make forty the new twenty? Adulthood keeps getting delayed, put off further down on the dusty road of life.

It seems like when my parents were in their thirties during the 1980’s, they were full fledged adults. There was no doubting their ranks in the then standard and inevitable pool of responsible adults. They watched Ronald Regan deliver speeches from the oval office from their Lazy-Boy recliners. They were the exhausted parents of four children. They planned yearly vacations to the Outerbanks. Always had a pet dog in the house. Annual dues were paid to the country club. The Toyota minivan was parked outside in the driveway along with the Chevrolet Cavalier. My dad coached our softball team. The newspaper came daily and was read, usually in the bathroom shrouded in my fathers stink and cigarette smoke. When did this automatic and expected initiation into adulthood become a choice?

I imagine this trend has something to do with our ever lengthening life span. Before we know it, retirement age will be 90 instead of 62 (by the way, when did it change from 55?). Way back in the days of “friends, Romans, countryman” the average life span was a mere 22 years and the concept of ‘childhood’ did not even exist. Perhaps there wasn’t time for it. Everyone was on the fast track to adulthood since their time on earth was practically over before it began. Who has time for hopscotch and sandboxes when the imperative milestones in life are waiting to be accomplished and time’s winged chariot is aggressively nipping at your Jesus water walkers?

So when water sanitation was methodically employed and diseases were less of a mystery, the fortunate souls in the 1600’s were afforded eight or so more years to the bargain that is life. It was about this time that someone started pedaling the concept of childhood. I’m guessing the invention of ‘a childhood’ can be attributed to a teacher who preferred to sing and dance, color and play games instead of teach Shakespeare and Ovid. For a while, the concept of childhood was limited to eight or so years. Despite its increase, the average life span of thirty years was still a brief flicker of flame in the grand scheme of things.

Question—when was it that childhood, the ephemeral stuff of youth, grew from a brief eight years to encompass the first two decades of one’s life? Of course I am lumping adolescence in with childhood since there is the ever increasing reality of not expecting responsible, adult behavior from a person until they are in their twenties (after all, the prefrontal cortex is still developing). Adolescence by definition ends at twenty years of age, and although the original meaning of the word in 1482 denoted becoming an adult and growing up, today’s adolescents are more or less lacking expectations from their elders to make substantial strides towards becoming mature adults. Somewhere along the timeline, there was a serious mitigation of expectations in regards to achieving maturation. I’m thinking the extension of childhood occurred in 1938 when the word teenager was added to the lexicon. The consequences of this simple eight letter configuration is that our ‘young adults’ today are seemingly exempt from the notion that they should be preening themselves for their imminent life as an adult. That they should be weeding out their prurient qualities and supplanting them with responsible adult tendencies. As it stands, the extension of childhood has created an ideal situation for the ever festering careless mentality of our supposedly-soon-to-be-productive members of society.

Which brings me back to the issue at hand which is not only my tottering on the precipice of adulthood, but a whole generation of waffling should-be adults delaying the plunge into the expectation-laden adult world. It seems that modern science has gifted us with a life span that is continuing to spiral upwards; the high ball of the average is currently 85 years. It only makes sense that if we are living longer, we can take longer to grow up, right? Who wants to be a hard working, productive citizen for even more years when you can be an irresponsible and indulgent kid for a longer period of time?

As for me, I did manage to pull off a simulacrum of adulthood back in my mid to late twenties. I was married, teaching, the owner of both a car and a mortgage. I sent my bills off dutifully on a monthly basis (more or less), owned a riding lawnmower, planted flowers all around the yard. I entertained other couples at dinner parties. My nieces and nephews came over to visit and we baked cakes and dyed Easter eggs. I had a cat. I filed my taxes when that time of year rolled around. I had the burden of a running list of household items in need of repair. I bought people presents when their birthdays rolled around. I baked apple, pumpkin, and banana nut bread for my friends and family at Christmas.


But then my simulation ceased to be. I went back to working in a restaurant, renting a less than luxurious apartment, storing my belongings in other people’s mortgaged homes. And after all this expounding on life expectancy and the recognition that (at least in America) morphing into an adult is something that, as each year passes, is taking place later and later in life, I think I can safely conclude that my foray into adulthood was premature. I was at least ten years too early. If recent trends are any indication, my current status as a shiftless, confused, non-committal individual is right on track with a significant portion of my generation and future generations.

This same philosophy does not hold true in developing nations, countries where people are not spoiled and softened by the cushion of capitalism and certain unalienable rights. I will not expound on the lack of childhood in developing countries, something I have only recently glimpsed but of which I am not fully apprised. I will have to write about that at a later time. For now, I left with the question of whether this ubiquitous extended adolescence is a gift or a curse?

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

The Petronas Towers/Twin Towers as seen in Entrapment with Catherine Zeta Jones.
Some colonial architecture.

I love all these keyhole arches on the side of this building.
More lanterns...

I took a taxi from Malacca up to Kuala Lumpur. I was dropped off near the bus terminal in Kuala Lumpur. The hotels were across the street but I didn't see a crosswalk and there were tons of cars and buses. I took about five minutes just standing there, watching the traffic patterns, overwhelmed by the amount of people and vehicles. It was a drastic change from the quiet little town I had just been in. I finally realized that I was just going to have to dodge the traffic with my big wheelie suitcase. I usually travel with a backpack over here, but I wanted to do some serious shopping and once I put everything in my pack, there is never any room for anything else. So here I am, white girl with big suitcase, in a crazy city that seems to be mostly men which was somewhat intimidating. Men of all shades of brown and yellow and black. And they weren't afraid to stare either.

I made it across the street and chose my accommodations based on the presence of an elevator. Rolling my suitcase along the sidewalk, filled with people and uneven surfaces and unidentifiable fluids was a rather sketchy venture. After I checked in and unloaded, I went back out to take a look at the city. I could not get over how many men there were. I hardly saw any women at all. It was literally an ocean of men. At one point, I was worried that I was in a place where women were not allowed because I only saw men. As much as I love men, and brown men especially, this was slightly frightening. I had a brief attack of panic, my thoughts were stuck in a pattern along the lines of "Omigod, I'm in a foreign country, nobody knows where I am, I'm surrounded by Muslim men, they are all staring at me, there are way too many back streets around here."

Once I made it to Chinatown, there were more women and more westerners so I felt a bit better about things. There was some great shopping to be had there as well as Little India. At night I went over to where the Twin Towers are and they are a sight to behold close up with all the lights on. Beautiful. I met and hung out with a guy from the Sudan who had been living in Kuala Lumpur for three years. I saw some beautiful Indian and Malay children, too. I also met someone from Bangladesh. I do love that I get the opportunity to meet people from all over the world in my travels.

I sure was ready to go home when Saturday rolled around.

Malacca, Malaysia

Tiles in the town square.
A trishaw driver. Some of these had stereo systems that played music while the guy rode you around town.
The ruins of an old church. From the top you could see the Straits of Malacca which was important back in the days of the spice trade.

An old Dutch church.
The clock tower in the town square.
Doesn't this look like small town America?
I love the Chinese lanterns!
Jonkers Street.

After Singapore, I took a bus into Malaysia and stopped in Malacca. This is a sleepy town with more colonial influence. I walked to the top of the hill and sat in the ruins of an old Dutch church. There were some guys selling their wares, tourist trinkets and such. There was also a guy playing the guitar. The first song I hear him play was Country Road (they love to play that over here in south east Asia...he didn't quite get the mountain momma line but I didn't have the heart to correct him either; maybe the fact that he was missing several key teeth garbled his pronunciation). I experienced a very strange feeling, a clashing of times and cultures. Christian church, Muslim country, a centuries old edifice, a popular song playing in the background, Asian, European. Such an interesting blend of influences.

I liked Malacca. It was small town. I also stayed in a real hotel (not like the hostel in Singapore where I had to share a bathroom with everyone and their mother) that had a restaurant where I ate nearly every meal. I visited with some of the other travellers and got to know the waitstaff. There was a guy who played live music every night so that was an extra perk. Besides the historical square and church up on the hill, the other highlight of the town was Jonkers Street, kind of like their Chinatown. Most of the places were closed due to the holiday but it was decorated with tons of red lanterns and hanging lights. Just walking down the street at night was magical.