The Macabre and the Delicious - Lunch in Bangkok

The Thai Colonel - Colonel San Ha.

Bangkok is a city that vibrates with energy, and you all know that I just lurve the "City of Angels." Whenever I get the chance, I extend my inevitable layovers to and from South Asia in order to make what would be a 3 hour pain in the ass a lovely short vacation.

This time around I was leaving Nepal, and my heart and mind were filled with conflicting, bittersweet emotions. I was planning to connect in Bangkok without leaving the airport, but news that one of my BFFs, Ben Newcombe, and my good pal Loren were going to be in the city made me rethink my flight plan and schedule my tenth - TENTH - visit to Krung Thep. What better to remedy this confusing sludge of anxiety, nostalgia, financial panic and heartsickness than, you guessed it - one night in Bangkok?

Turns out - nothing. Nothing could be better than Thai street food, that is! I made a pact to the boys and to myself that I would only consume cheap local food for the 24 hours - and it was a promise I made good on.

 

Breakfast entrails!

We spent my one night in town drinking buckets, dancing and attending a ladyboy show, finishing up at 2am with some delicious streetside chicken rice. For my one full day, I wanted to visit some of the more bizarre attractions in the city, things I had always put off for "next time" on every other visit. 

After a breakfast of pork noodle soup, we paid a visit to the Jim Thompson House, a meticulously preserved Thai teak house once owned by the American architect and designer. He is said to have saved the dying Thai silk industry in the '50s - until he vanished without a trace in Malaysia and was never heard from again. The house is stylish, creatively designed and slightly subversive - I loved it. 

 A long line up at the chicken and som tam stall - the busiest in the food court.

We built up quite an appetite and needed to have a hearty lunch before heading to the macabre Siriraj Medical Museum (so. many. dead. babies. in. jars.) and the sinisterly stuck-in-time Nightingale Olympic Department Store (although, in retrospect, an empty stomach at the medical museum would not have been such a bad thing). Loren led the charge to a side street Thai food court he had visited earlier in the week, promising cheap, delicious local street eats.

The food court is located in a covered alley in Siam Square, and despite the hoards of farang tourists in the nearby vicinity, we were the only non-Thais in the place. Ben and Loren opted for some choices from the smorgasbord of curries, meats and stir fries, but something a little different caught my eye - fried chicken and som tam.

                                

Who can take a rainbow, spinkle it with glee - the Som Tam Man can!

Just the previous evening, a new pal had been telling me about a famous joint near Lumpini Park that only sells delicious, crispy fried chicken and som tam, a papaya salad that is said to be one of the spiciest Thai dishes. I was intrigued by the combination, and here it was, fortuitously right in front of me. 

An older gentleman was mixing what I recognized as the fiery salad with a big mortar and pestle, and I gestured that I would like one of the same.  I also pointed to a skewer jabbed through two fried chicken breasts and watched as he prepared my plates in a flurry of chillies, peanuts, dried shrimp and fish sauce.

I don't understand the point of life without Thai street food. WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT?

Less than a minute later I was taking my seat with two delicious, complementary plates in front of me - all for 60 baht (2 dollars).

The fried chicken was crispy, salty and juicy, each piece dipped in a sweet soy sauce mixed with a hint of cilantro. The rich, salty umami flavour of the chicken and sauce was perfectly matched with the sour and spicy som tam, the fishiness of the tiny shrimps and fish sauce helping to cut through the oiliness of the chicken. 

Initially I exclaimed that I had "enough food for two people!", but I licked my fingers, dug in and plowed through both plates. I finished my lunch with the perfect feeling - rather than stuffed silly and filled with remorse, I was glowing and happy, having eaten the perfect amount.

It was a wonderful night - and day - in Bangkok, aided by a wonderful lunch. I had a happy feeling in my tummy and a spring in my step... 

 ....that is, until all of the deformed babies in formaldehyde and mummified criminals.

Some things, like chicken and som tam, are simply just a better combination than others. 

Being a "good eater" is a lovely compliment, Violet - for a baby.

Better, Not Older - 31 Things I Did While I Was 31

 Better late than never, little Dear.

1. After many years and a few hiatuses, I completed my Honours BA in Communication - finally- with a 4.0 GPA and a minor in Dialogue.

2. I wrote a lot, and I was published in the Tyee, xoJane, the Under 35 Project, Huffington Post, The Vancouver Courier, Whistler Traveler and Vancouver is Awesome.

3. I was hired as a pro-bono Ethical Tourism Advisor by Next Generation Nepal after I read a book called Little Princes and it inspired me to do something about child trafficking in Nepal.

4. I told a story at Rain City Chronicles (the Vancouver version of the Moth) about accidentally moving into a crack house. (You can listen here - I'm the first storyteller of "Under the Influence.")

Oh, how I wish this was ironic. BUT IT REALLY ISN'T.

5. I saw Neil Diamond in concert with my mum and her pals - we're the "Oh, Neil!" girls. I am a Diamond Head - I love Neil, like, an unhealthy amount, and the concert nearly had me in tears.

6. I hosted couchsurfers - 6 in Vancouver and 5 in Kathmandu - and I feel more and more dialed into its international community of vagabonds, travelers and engaged citizens.

Interestingly, also what I do with men.

7. I marched in the Gay Pride Parade with the Vancouver Orphan Kitten Rescue Association (VOKRA) for whom I have fostered kittens in the past. We won the People's Choice Award for best float, and only about half of the attendees thought we were furries. 

8. I spent one perfect day in Singapore visiting my friends Tanya and Peter. I took a Chinatown Walking Tour, ate some amazing chicken rice, visited a hawker centre for frogs legs, char kway teow and wontons, drank fresh beers and won a pub quiz at a huge brewery pub at Clarke Quay. Whew!

9. I spent the next (perfect) day in Kuala Lumpur, taking a food tour, going to see the Petronas Towers and spending an evening alone on a verandah in a thunder storm, listening to music, writing and drinking Tiger Beer.

10. I stored my belongings, said some difficult goodbyes, made some hard choices about my beloved cats and moved to Kathmandu for 7 months.

11. I took the one-month Introduction to Buddhism course at Kopan Monastery, followed by the one week silent Lam Rim retreat.

Me and Ani Drolma moments after my refuge ceremony. I became "Thubten Tsultrim."

12. I formally took refuge in Buddha, Dharma and Sangha and officially became a Buddhist.

13. I applied to University College of London and York, and was accepted to both! I accepted UCL's offer to do my MA in Cultural Heritage Studies.

14. I consumed entrails on the streets of Bangkok on Christmas morning with my girl Jess and spent Christmas Dinner in Columbo eating gluttonous amounts of crab with my Mum and Tim.

15. I took a cooking class and learned to make rice n' curry, pol sambol and egg hoppers in Galle, Sri Lanka.

16. I spent New Year's Eve 2013 on a stunning beach in Tangalla, Sri Lanka with my Mum, Tim, Jess and a bartender who looked like Bruno Mars.

17. I began volunteering at the Kopan Dog Rescue and fell deeply, madly in love with the dogs there. 

The next hill over is called  Pubic Mound.

18. I trekked through the Annapurnas in a snow storm with my pal Vilija. Our Poon Hill trek was stunningly beautiful - and incredibly treacherous due to a freak storm that meant we had to descend the steep mountain trails by sliding on our bums/crawling on our hands and knees. 

19. I began Nepali lessons and learned how to speak ali ali (a little bit) of Nepali. Ramro!

20. I purchased my first sari and wore it to a glamourous birthday event.

21. I booked a 9 day vacation to Thailand with my gal Jess (again - she's my soul mate) and learned how to dive on Koh Tao. I am now officially SSI certified to scuba dive anywhere in the world.

Two of the many good friends I made this year, Cass and Jess.

22. I added over 100 new friends on Facebook, which means I met over 100 awesome new people who have added richness, humour, art, compassion, wisdom and sass to my life.

23. I discovered (much) younger men and realized that age really doesn't matter when two people have a lot in common. I also heard, "you look so good for your age!" quite often this year, to which I replied, "hunty, this is what 31 looks like!"

24. I had a blast getting covered in coloured powder on Holi -  and then had less of a blast when a gang of teenaged boys surrounded me and a friend and groped us. This is common in Nepal, and made me feel vulnerable and ashamed. It was my first sexual assault, and it made me have even more compassion for victims of sexual violence.

25. I learned to love dal bhat, the Nepali national dish that consists of a mountain of rice, lentil soup, vegetable curry and spicy pickle. A bad dal bhat is bland, mushy and boring, but a good one is yummy comfort food. (But to be honest, I ate more pho than anything.)

26. I fell into a giant open sewer hole and was rescued by the Nepali army.

I'm saying, "have you ever tried to help, but accidentally made things a whole lot worse?"

27. I wrote and gave a Pecha Kucha presentation on my research into orphanage voluntourism in Nepal at the 9th Kathmandu Pecha Kucha Night, and I hope to give a similar presentation in London and Vancouver.

28. I co-wrote and presented a pub quiz (that benefits the Umbrella Foundation) at Pub Maya in Thamel. My rounds included questions on Lynch, Bowie, Joy Division, Rocky Horror, Voodoo, Wayne's World, Edith Piaf and Tom Waits.

29. I got a tattoo of a Matryoshka doll in honour of my grandmother. Thar's right: I got a tattoo of a Ukrainian stacking doll by a Swiss artist in Nepal. 

30. I learned to open a beer with any available implement. Physics confuses me, but I finally met a boy who taught me the basic principles of levers, so look out science! You're my bitch now.

31. Finally, on my last day of 31 I learned to ride a motorcycle at Hearts and Tears Motorcycle Club in Pokhara. I was surrounded by great teachers, fun friends and a boy who is riding his bike from here back to the UK. At long last, I'll actually be able to put the word "biker" before "babe"(or "bitch").

That's all, pals. Now to get started on a list of 32 equally amazing things for this coming year: bungy jumping, getting back on my skateboard, surf lessons, Greek island sailing, warehouse parties, finding a flat in Brixton and a lot of writing.

xoxoVioletDear

Hey. 32. Bring it. This goth bitch is going to OWN you.

A Breath of Fresh Air - Learning to Dive on Koh Tao

Hard day at the office.

I have been vagabonding all over the world for damn near 15 years now and whenever I visit a lush, tropical beach I strap on some fins and shove a snorkel in my mouth. I LOVE the ocean, and I have snorkeled stunning reefs in locales such as Mexico, Hawaii, Fiji, Maldives and Indonesia. 

Drifting far above a busy reef and watching the fish play amongst the coral and kelp is a relaxing, calming hobby, one that I indulge as often as possible. But I have a secret confession. Despite my tattoos of ships and seahorses, I am a little bit afraid of sea creatures.

(That was a lie. I am A LOT afraid of sea creatures.)

That’s why I have always preferred to jump off of a boat to snorkel rather that wade out from the shore – it gives me more leeway and keeps the creepy crawlies and the pointy anemones from accidentally grazing my rather ample tum. I like to give them their space. It’s not exactly fear, more like a deep-seated horror aimed at the strangely fecund depths of the ocean and its slimy, slithering inhabitants.  When I would see scuba divers below me navigating their way through caves and reefs I would feel a sick sense of claustrophobic panic, and think to myself, “no sir, that is not for me.  I like to be 3 metres above the action and quietly observe.”

Until now.

When I made plans to visit Jess in Thailand, I wanted to make the most of my holiday and learn a new skill – how to ride a motorcycle, how to surf, how to open a beer bottle with a lighter (ok, that one is less daunting) and so Jess suggested getting our diving certifications. In the heat of the moment and with a positive attitude I would later doubt, I agreed.

The obvious choice was Koh Tao, known for its mellow travelers scene and thriving dive industry, and with that settled I began to look for a reputable school. My friends on Facebook threw out some valuable suggestions, but I decided to rely on trusty ol’ Tripadvisor. The ratings were clear – Roctopus Dive School was our best bet. I was still nervous, but there were still weeks of time separating me from the daunting task at hand and it slipped to the back of my mind.

As the days counted down toward my first oxygen-tank aided dip into the big drink, I began to feel a small amount of trepidation, but Bangkok’s promise of good beer, MAC make-up and skimpy clothing went along way in soothing my jangly nerves and my excitement trumped my fear.  For a while....

Is doing it wrong (or right?); still wearing L'il Bub tank top instead of Roctopus tank top. 

Soon, though, it was go-time. We arrived on Koh Tao bright and early after a night bus and catamaran, and were greeted at the 7/11 by Westy and driven to the Roctopus office. Unlike a lot of the bigger schools located on the beach, Roctopus is a 15 minute walk inland and attracts a more serious clientele who have done their research and are attracted by their impeccable online reputation. We soon met our classmates Rachel, Andy and Pau and our instructor Jay Hayes and we all began the process of acquiring our SSI (Scuba Schools International) Open Water Diving Certification. 

British women require what now?

 

Grade me. Graaaaaaaaade Meeeeeeee. Evaluate and rank me!

My fear began to rise, but the course was taught in a very logical progression, and Jay went a long way in soothing my jangly nerves with his calm demeanor and occasionally dirty acronym jokes. We were required to watch 6 DVD lessons and complete 2 nights of homework before learning how to assemble our gear and getting into the water for a basic skills session.  At this point I had always assumed that I would be a messy ball of panic, but I felt fairly calm and prepared as I did a wide step into the ocean, laden down with weights and a bloody heavy tank of air.

Rock n' Roll Dive School.

As we hit the water I felt a bizarre sense of cognitive dissonance as I discovered I could indeed breathe under the surface. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, and my initial reaction was to flounder my arms around and try to swim normally. It soon became apparent that my arms were useless little T-Rex appendages and my legs were really where it was at in terms of steering and forward momentum. My heart rate started to settle as we knelt down on the ocean floor. Jay led us through a series of important basic skills - clearing our masks, retrieving our air (in the event it comes out of our mouths) and attempting to understand buoyancy (something that continues to confound me).

My BC and my weights, some of my underwater thingamabobs.

 It was exhilarating, exhausting and strange – and I couldn’t wait to do it again.

Over the next two days we went on four more dives, down to a total of eighteen metres. We dove at Japanese Gardens, Pottery, Chumphon Pinnacle and Twin Peaks and with each dive my confidence increased (I wish I could say the same thing about my ability to blow bubbles or like, understand how buoyancy works).

It turns out that I am still pretty creeped out by coral, seaweed and most fish, so while everyone else was pretty jazzed about peeking into suboceanic caves to catch a glimpse of moray eels, I was more like, “naw, I’ll just be floating around over here marveling at breathing underwater, you g’head, g’head.” I simply enjoy being under the water, descending into the foreign depths and swimming around, and that is A-OK with me.

 

Me and my new BFF. 

 Pau, Jess, Rachel, Andy and I all passed our course with flying colours, and we were awarded our SSI Open Water qualification that entitles us to dive anywhere in the world. I plan to go on to take my Advanced Course as soon as time permits, and I even feel keen to do some diving in Vancouver, which is said to have some of the best cold water sites in the world.

So, while I still need to learn to ride a motorbike, surf and yes, open a beer bottle with a lighter, I have discovered a new hobby - and an entire new world.

 

"Bottom Time" made me laugh every damn time.

Life's A Drag - The Ladyboys of Koh Tao

Oh, the glamour of it all!

On our way to the drag cabaret on Koh Tao, I had the following exchange with my friend (and diving buddy) John:

     John: I can't believe you changed into a dress and red lipstick to impress the ladyboys. 
      Me: You don't know me very well.

It's true. I love drag shows. I acquired a fake ID when I was 16 and the very first thing I used it for was to go to the Odyssey (RIP) to see Willie Taylor, Mandy Kamp and Carlotta Gurl perform in Lips Inc. While I slammed 99 cent shots of butter rum schnapps (*shudder*) I fell in love with the glamour of it all - call me a fag hag or a fruit fly, but sister, I have been back to that show- and others - dozens of times over the past decade and a half.

Thailand is a fantastic place to see a drag show. Kathoeys, or ladyboys, are an accepted part of Thai culture, and you will see them working retail and restaurant jobs alongside other women and men. That is, if you can clock them - some kathoeys are more feminine that I could ever dream of being, with willowy waists, perfect skin and flawless make-up. For those with the desire to perform in a revue style show there are thousands across the country, and the Ladyboys of Bangkok is said to be one of the best in the world.

While on Koh Tao, an island that seemingly has everything, I was delighted to discover that they have a ladyboy bar called the Queens Cabaret! I was thrilled to get prettied up, pre-drunk and head to the 11pm show for a night of entertainment and glamour and.... it was... well, it was just ok.

The outfits were a little wilted, the lipsynching a little messy and damn, those girls didn't really know how to beat their faces. BUT we still had a fantastic time - John and Pau got called onstage to participate - and with no admission fee and only a one drink minimum I highly recommend the show. So gurl, break out that MAC Red and your best flip flops and head to the Cabaret!

 

I actually asked them if they watch RuPaul's Drag Race. They had no idea what I was talking about.

 

John, me and Jess ready to watch the show. Tres excite!

 

No T, No shade, hunty.

What is the correct term for a group of ladyboys? A cluster? A murder? A glitter?

That's it. A glitter of drag queens.

Pau, or the Spanish Tom Cruise "Tomas Cruz" shows off his ladyboy kiss with pride. I later heard him have a conversation in the 7/11 with a big dude from South Africa about how much they respect the ladyboys.

With love from Kathmandu (but dreaming of Koh Tao), 

xoxox Violet Dear

The Mellow and the Sleaze - A Week on Koh Tao

 Me and my little Jennifer Grey lookalike in the back of a pick-up truck, on our way to a dive.  

I just left Koh Tao, a little emerald jewel off of the East coast of Thailand, and I am sitting on a coach speeding toward Bangkok, reveling in post-island glow. This was the best short vacation I have ever taken, complete with great food, new friends and the most amazing sunsets in the world. 

I arrived last Friday for my eight-day trip (which explains my absence here, sorry ‘bout it), nearly weeping with joy when I touched down in my beloved Bangkok. A certain amount of weary fatigue had hit me in Kathmandu, and so I decided to make a brief sojourn to Thailand. The flight was cheap, no visa was required and everything is developed and easy. My expectations weren’t high, I just needed some time in a bikini with a bottle of Sang Som in my hand.

My life is probably the best life.  

I made plans to meet up with my friend Jess (you may remember her from Sri Lanka) and we chose to go to Koh Tao based on its proximity to Bangkok, its beauty and its easy going reputation. We decided we would get SSI/PADI certified and learn to dive, something both of us have wanted to do for a long time.

Koh Tao means “Turtle island” and it wasn’t settled until the 1950s. The varied dive sites nearby, beautiful coral reefs and the lack of existing industry proved the perfect conditions for the island to become a diving mecca. You cannot walk 10 metres down the pleasant, pedestrian footpaths of Sairee Beach without encountering another dive shop – only Cairns, Australia issues more certifications each year.

 

Sunset Singhas. 

 I shouldn’t like Koh Tao. It’s near Koh Samui and Koh Phangan, two “party bro” islands famous for full moon parties and foam bars, and it does attract some of the same clientele. But, Koh Tao has one major difference, a difference that prevents it from being completely overrun with package tourists and drink-til-you-puke bucket specials: diving, diving, diving. People are there to study and try to get the most out of their dives rather than to engage in a hedonistic orgy of booze. Well, that is, until the last day of diving lessons….. ahem.

The nightlife is a solid mix of pubs showing films, beach bars with the pre-requisite firespinners, and casual clubs where djs play drum & bass and house music - but it lacks the exploitative debauchery other Southeast Asian backpacker haunts (my friend Jay would scoff at this sort of behaviour as “amateur bullshit”). The crowd is definitely older than on Phi Phi or Samui, but not too old, at least in spirit.  My diving group and I had one really big night out, and let’s just say that I felt younger (and prettier) than I have in a while. (We can now disregard some of this angst. Huzzah!)

I’ve been to Thailand seven times, and I really thought that I had seen it all, done it all, and that its party-prone beaches weren’t really for me. That’s all changed – I’m in love with Koh Tao. The sun was hot, the boys were pretty, the food was spicy and the drinks were cold – what else could a fatigued Kathmandu expat ask for? It was like a Thai version of “How Violet Dear Got Her Groove Back.”

Me in my Summer Black. Guys, this is how I will dress when I live out my skeezy destiny - but my shorts will be shorter.

I found myself scheming ways that I could abandon grad school and my career and just stay on the island, becoming a dirtbag dive instructor with black hair to my waist, a deep cocoa tan, a mild to moderate drinking problem and a constant Spank Rock/Mickey Avalon playlist. I’d ride a motorcycle and get a dog named Thai-y Tim and have visible abs, carrying out my 30s in a blaze of mildly self-destructive one night stands and recreational drug use. This is hard to resist, but alas, responsibility calls. For now. Until I head back to Koh Tao do the Advanced Course next year….

 

Barefoot beers. Living the dream. 

Hot Chilis, Entrails and Drinking in the Street: Merry Christmas, Bangkok!

Hello, pretty l'il chili bowl

Don't get me wrong - I love Nepal. I love Nepali people and food and culture - but (and baby, that's one big but) when the dirt, dust and dahl baht get a bit oppressive I need something shiny and nicey nice. Something clean and Western and shamelessly overindulgent but still wild and exciting and a wee bit dangerous. As I have mentioned before, Bangkok is my kind of town.

So, on my way to Sri Lanka for a Christmas holiday I booked myself a two day stop in the City of Angels - and my Kopan pal Jess decided to join me. It was an exercise in esthetics appointments, Starbucks peppermint mochas and, of course, eating ALL OF THE THINGS. 

Grills Gone Wild

Christmas Eve is a pretty big deal in my household, as part of my family is Ukrainian and it's the traditional time to have the big supper and open gifts. I had just spent an hour the previous day trying to explain to my Bangladesh-born Aussie friend Aritro just what the big deal about Christmas is in North America.

"Well," I said, "it's this weird time of year where everyone is crazy nostalgic, but also super sad and kind of feeling inadequate and frantic and there are lots of boxes of chocolates and people listen to music that both upsets them and reminds them of their childhood and you can't make normal life plans for a month, but you are allowed to respond to every hesitation about overspending and gluttony with 'but it's Christmas!' And it lasts 6 weeks." He didn't get it. I told him to listen to John Denver's Christmas album, consume too much butter, attend obligatory awkward parties and drink for 30 days in a row and he would.

But despite the hectic yet (mostly) pleasurable mindfuck of a proper Christmas Eve supper due to the timing of my retreat and limited flight availability my mum and I weren't able to meet until late at night on the 25th. This meant that my main Christmas supper was to be spent on the loose in Bangkok, which frankly, suited me just fine. Jess and I donned our prettiest dresses (ones that we could most certainly NOT ever wear in Kathmandu without being mistaken for prostitutes or somesuch) and wandered around soi 11 gathering a streetfood feast fit for a couple of Canadian Ukes.

What a hot piece of meat - and them skewers don't look too bad, either

(See what I did there?)

 We ended up back at the guesthouse with a collection of steaming plastic bags and spread our Christmas bounty out on the table (on plates! Like fancy ladies!). We had som tam (spicy papaya salad), a selection of pork, chicken and beef skewers and some Singha beers from 7/11 - dinner and drinks was about 6 bucks and spicy enough to set my mouth on fire in an almost hallucinatory way.

If the van is a'rockin... knockin' is fine and you should probably help this wee Thai man mix drinks

After punishing our tastebuds and bellies with chilis, we decided that it was time to go and find some dranks: Bangkok-style. Every evening a series of V-dub vans that have been converted into bars line soi 11, slinging drinks to a mixed crowd of backpackers, high-end travelers, locals and expats. Jess and I pulled up a little plastic chair, lit a Marlborough Light (tastes like traveling!) and sucked back a few Long Islands. We were content to schlep around Sukhumvit, maybe check out Q Bar and then call it an early night when our friend Mischa, a crazy lawyer from Moscow, messaged us. Within minutes we were in a tuktuk racing across Bangkok for drinks on Khao San with a group of crazy Israelis and Russians. The night got a bit messy and a little late, but we were tucked into bed back on soi 11 by 2am. Merry Christmas hangover!

 I'll never go back to french toast and leftover turkey again.

The next morning we woke up by 9, craving watermelon and strong coffees. Wandering down the street we approached the cart pictured above, and I was lured in by the sight of skewers and palm leaf packages. Once we smelled the gorgeous charcoal-y aroma of cooking chicken innards our breakfast destination was decided. We ordered some skewers of livers and intestines and my personal favourite, a thing I think is chicken anus. I'm not kidding. I'm pretty sure it's the glands around the butt, and similar in texture to gizzards. Man, it is so good. I'm thinking about it now and salivating like some kind of avian zoophile, but it really was delicious. Perfect for Christmas morning breakfast.

 How? How are you so good?

A comfort food akin only to poutine and perogies.

The gal and I also shared a plate of one the world's most deceptively simple foods: chicken rice. Beloved by Singaporeans as their national dish, it is also a staple of Thai street food culture. Looks like no big thang, right? Wrong. Shredded boiled chicken, lightly flavoured rice, ginger and chili sauce - it's as basic as it gets, but man, it is the perfect food. Something about the way that these few ingredients blend together makes chicken rice the kind of toe-curlingly good comfort food that Thais and Singaporeans alike will wax poetic about in a "Canadians talking about poutine" kind of way. I'm hooked.

It was a very Merry Thai Christmas indeed, and I will be dreaming about late night street cocktails and delicious Bangkok food for many holiday seasons to come.

And chicken anus. I will be thinking about that, too - and drooling. 

Merry Christmas, Violet Dear. Enjoy your butt.

Zen and the Art of Dog Walking, or "Our Time at Lanta Animal Welfare"

This little dude was a new arrival when we got there, and was sick. By the time we left he was healthy and happy.

A lot of backpackers arrive in Asia, see the poverty and dire conditions and want to volunteer. Unfortunately, most long term volunteering opportunities need to be sorted out well in advance and require minimum time commitments and even specialized knowledge/education. Not so with Lanta Animal Welfare.

Lanta Animal Welfare is run by a Californian born Norwegian woman named Junie who runs an extremely successful Thai fusion cooking school and

restaurant on Klong Dao Beach. After many years of living on Lanta she decided to do something to help the myriad stray, sick and injured dogs she saw running up and down the beach. She started a kennel and sterilization program with her own funds.

There is no veterinarian on the Ko Lanta, and so each time she comes across a sick or stray animal she or her volunteers (the amazing Adam and Carolyn) must transport them to Krabi (3 hours away) for treatment - but they do it with a smile! When asked how she manages to run a busy restaurant as well as helping all of these animals she replied with a shrug. “It has to be done!”

S and I just spent two weeks helping out, and in our time there we walked the dogs on the beach, spent time with them in the evenings (to give Junie and her other longterm volunteers a rest) and even helped to socialize Joey, the rescued pet monkey (if by socializing you mean letting him hump my head).

Junie's ambitious plans for the new year include building new spacious kennels allowing her to take on up to 50 dogs at a time, as well as hiring and boarding the island's first vet to look after them.

Junie is doing a great job but she needs help - if you want to help she would love donations and willing hands and even potential adoptees (you can take these animals back to your home country with relative ease – if you are interested be sure to ask!)

So get in there, enjoy the beauty and laid back attitude of Lanta and get your hands dirty. Junie, the dogs, cats and yes – Joey the monkey – would love to see you!

http://www.lantaanimalwelfare.com/start.htm

Mai Tai, always reaching through the cage. A sweet old lady.

I wanted to start off with this photo, even if it is a bit fuzzy - this is Mai Tai. She is an old lady, and just HATED it when she had to go back in after walkies. Junie used to have her out all of the time, but once she got 20 dogs it became impossible. Mai Tai is a darling. However, she knows how to get off of her leash and it can be a pain to tear off down the beach after her.....

From left: Belle, Lanta and Joey.

Oh Joey. Joey was in the process of humping Lanta's (the white dog) leg. Unlike Deng, Lanta really did seem to mind. The brown and white dear is Belle, and I think that that S and I want to bring her to Canada. (It is really easy to bring one to Canada!)

Zip was also the name of my childhood dog, so I am biased.

Kissy Kissy with Zip, one of my favourites. I really love this dog. She had a sense of humour, y'know what I mean? I love funny dogs.

Moments later she abruptly stood up, walking away from the confused kittens and sat on my lap to be petted.

The resident mummy cat (Junie rescued her with the kittens- she has since been spayed.) Want a sad story? A Swedish couple were staying here a month ago, fell in love with one of the kittens and went through the whole process of taking it to Phuket to get its shots and papers. At that point, an animal needs to remain in Thailand for 2 more months, get one more vet check and then they can be sent to Canada, no problems. They went home and begin counting down the days - and a few months before the date the kitten was run over by a Sea Gypsy on a fast motorbike. :(
It was named Lanta.

Ahhh! So many kitties! So many cute kitties! (I am kind of like Lenny with bunnies....)

The cat area - about nine of them live near the restaurant (so amazing, btw - the aesthetic alone is worth going for dranks.) I love nothing more than watching the sunset with an icy beer and having a little cat jump into my lap.

Joey, with his hands away from his genitals. A rare photo, ladies and gentlemen.

I wish I could say that Joey was a sweet little guy and we bonded, but it was more "Hey Joey, stop humping my head" or "Hey Joey, please take that wriggling frog you caught from out between your legs" or even "Ewww. Joey, no." He was found on the beach after he was attacked by dogs and Junie footed his vet bills - he has bad manners but I have been told he is a sweetheart. When he is not humping you.....

I started calling him Clint after a while - he reminds me of Clint Eastwood in "Gran Torino"

Red is a grumpy old man, a curmudgeon of a dog with a missing ear. He reminds me of the old man in "Up!" but he does have a good heart - he LOVES Junie (they all do.)

Look at that handsome man! S isn't bad either.....

Sean walking Bubble, the most difficult of all of the dogs. I maintain that Bub would be a great dog with a little personal TLC and a stable forever family, but in the meantime he can tire out even the strongest forearms.

She has a pretty severe medical issue (involving enemas) otherwise I would adopt her. Sweetie.

Sara is sweet lady, missing her tail. She hated going back in - the minute I would turn around on the beach and start heading in she planted her little feet and said "Uh Uh." I had to run and act like a giddy fool to get her moving again.

The Doodler.

Noodle (Noodler, Noodley Doodley, Noody) has a nervous disposition and stays up on these stairs a lot of the time to avoid the other dogs.

Did not matter where I stood, this dog muddied my shins.

Owen, a nice guy with a love of kicking his feet behind him and spraying you with mud, dust, sand, dirt, water - whatever was on hand. It didn't matter what direction you moved to, he could sense it and would re-direct his kicks. I tried to get Sean to take him after a while....

He looks so noble staring at the sea.

Long, Zip's cage mate. Long has a heartworm and the vet has determined that surgery would be really risky, so he is living out his days here at Lanta Animal Welfare. It's really sad, because he is sweet guy, and he and Zip are so happy playing together.

Doggie Deck is a sweet guy.

Doggie aka Doggie Deck aka Deck Dog. Doggie has a wonky eye as a result of a fight, and lives upstairs (hence the deck part of his name.) He was incredibly sweet but also a real pain as he loved to flop down in the grass or sand and refuse to get up. Such cheek!

Oh Pooey, you got the shittiest name.....

Pooey. He was really sweet and slow and I always walked him first, so it was a nice start to the dog walkin' time. A really really nice dog.

I was like "Leg? Are you sure there isn't something wrong with his head?" I kid because I love.

Deng Deng. I assumed that Deng's strange sideways shuffle was due to hip dysplasia, and so did Junie. That was before the vet in Phuket did an x-ray and determined that Deng has been shot and there is a bullet lodged in his leg. That does not keep him from tearing after you at the strangest times and once catching up, grooming your legs or the dog you're walking or the monkey. He's a strange guy.

S's loving display: brought to you by Archa Beer.

Sean showing Lanta some love. She is a genuinely awesome dog - anyone would be lucky to have her as a pet. She doesn't lurve cats, so Sean and I cannot adopt her.... but maybe you can?

Hey you! Bye!