Pages

Sunday 31 August 2008

A Night at the Opera

Khamma arrived in Singapore late on Wednesday night and soon settled into the routine between my work and domesticity. I do worry that she will get bored staying at home whilst I have to go to work, but she says she is ok and is going out to places she is familiar with. Speaking English and reading it are two different things and I can understand her apprehension in venturing out a little further but I still hope she finds enough to do.
Last Friday was the opera night. We set off with great anticipation and I hoped she wouldn't find it too extreme on the 'farang' scale. In actual fact I am not a huge opera buff and my interest is because I have enjoyed some great performances before and we can go to see this in Singapore because, well, we can! I have a wide range of musical interest and always fascinated by the talent some people have whether it is on the high stage in Singapore or down at the local blues club. Of course I also wanted to see Khamma's reaction to the spectacular stage set and the large orchestra.
After an average meal in Harry's Bar we joined the audience in the splendid Esplanade theatre and took our comfortable seats in the circle. The orchestra was some eighty members strong and the cast I think over one hundred. We both very much enjoyed the performance and it was obvious it was well polished and top class, especially the leading roles who revelled in the appreciation and delight of the audience. Khamma's reaction was excited and she now refers to it not as the opera, but as the 'sing a song'. I like that. She has also occasionally been heard practicing her scales in not quite in the sweet soprano range but in that unmistakable Isaan accent of north east Thailand.
We arrived home happy and content that some more differences in our cultures are now better understood.

Thursday 21 August 2008

Cultural Differences

Moving into societies and cultures where values and expectations are different from the comforts and familiarisation of the little bubbles we call home has, over the years, become second nature for me. I am used to change and enjoy observing life from the inside whilst still feeling somewhat an outsider. Nothing surprises me anymore and I readily accept what goes on around me and do not hold judgement but relish in the behaviours I stumble across.
Life in Singapore has quite a few differences like this. The behavior etiquette when boarding a bus or train is very frustrating to the Englishman who believes the fairest way is the 'first come; first served' method. It is amazing how the small frames of the Asian commuters squeeze into the tiniest gap to get onto the already full train. Often I am left standing waiting for the next scramble with a will of iron that is matched by a crafty body serve or a dropped shoulder that wrong foots me and I am nutmegged again!
Once on the train the Singaporean commuter loves to talk into their latest Nokia mobile phone. But there is a peculiar habit of cupping the hand over the mouthpiece which I presume is to either prevent the conversation from being over heard or stop back ground noise from entering. It is amazing how this habit has formed and is copied by nearly everyone.
Singaporeans love having their photos taken but nearly always hold the fingers in what I would describe as a 'peace man' salute similar to hippie gesticulation of the 60's, and the opposite way round to the sign often associated with sex and travel in England! It is kind of cute and can add extra interest to a portrait, but how has the habit infiltrated the society?
One habit that takes some getting used to is the hawking and spitting of the Chinese male. I suppose that it is a fine feeling to clear the throat with a rasping vibration of the windpipe to dislodge the sludge that collects there over a period of time. Then to reverse gulp the sludge and debris into the back of throat and spit it out with remarkable accuracy over an unbelievable distance, and then rest with heavenly satisfaction and an uplifting feeling of general goodness and wellness and ready to take on whatever life throws at you next. It should become an Olympic event and then Singapore would win a medal!
There is also a huge amount of bureaucracy and I cannot get used to the fact in business I need to get authorised signatures and company 'chops' (the company stamp or seal) on every piece of paper before I can even so much as buy a bus ticket!

When we met Khamma and I realised that we were entering different worlds and knew nothing of the cultural differences between us. We read books and articles written by people who had ventured into this melting pot before us and were keen to tell the newbies what pitfalls lay ahead. There are many negative articles and the positive ones have been helpful but this is a personal journey and you can only prepare yourself so much before jumping into the cultural mixer.
So far I am the one that has to immerse myself in Khamma's culture and I happily do this without bringing my western expectations. My only request is not to make exceptions just because it is me and I 'might' not be used to the Thai way of life. Through Khamma I have been introduced to the village school, the temple and the boys in the band as well as most of her friends and neighbours. I have tried to learn how they interact and what makes them tick, and my reward has been an acceptance into their village and their lives. I will always be called the 'Farang' because that is what I am, 'a foreigner', but by playing in the band, working in the fields, eating the strange food and not making complaints the results have been amazing.
It is all too easy to decide not to adapt and judge everything in the village by what has been learned by a lifetime of living in a modern and relatively opulent society. Having an open mind and joining in the customs and trying to learn about the way people interact with each other gives a much richer experience; providing you can laugh at yourself and be prepared for others to laugh at you, and talking about you!
I look forward to when it is Khamma's turn to experience the heady mix of daily life in Diggle! Actually there are similarities but she will miss the daily visit to the rice and potato fields, she will miss the social chit chat as people sit outside their homes, she will miss the visit to the temple with food for the monks and I guess she will be surprised we don't go to the shop everyday to buy fresh meat and veg.
But I am hoping for a cultural reaction next Friday as we go to the Singapore opera to see Pucinni's Turandot with the tear jerking classic Nessun Dorma. I have been to the opera only a couple of times but Khamma will hearing this type of music possibly for the first time in her life. That and the huge theatre where it will be performed are very different from the village life. I hope she enjoys the experience and yet another small happening in discovering the differences between our lives whilst bringing them closer together.

Friday 15 August 2008

That was the week that was

I have not been back to Thamuang since the house blessing mainly due to amount of work I have in Singapore, but also because it isn't exactly a direct route to Ubon Ratchathani airport from Singapore. It is a strange fact but, in their wisdom, the Thai authorities have decided that the majority of domestic flights will fly in and out of Bangkok's old Don Muang airport. So if you arrive at the new international airport and want to travel internally in Thailand you have to catch a bus or risk a taxi to drive the hour or so to DMK. Not only that the flights from Don Muang are very early in the morning making it a logistical nightmare. Air Asia are the only carrier allowed to have domestic flights from the new airport, but there is only one flight a day to Ubon and it departs at the wrong time to make a reliable connection from Singapore. So I need a bit more than a weekend to make it worthwhile to go to visit the village. This means I have more chance to explore Singapore and I have visited some new places in the last couple of weeks. The Arab Quarter in particular has become a favourite. But more on this some other time.
Khamma and I speak everyday so I keep up with what's happening in the village. There was a wedding yesterday where Khamma's cousin, whom she has not seen for ten years, tied the knot with a guy from Japan. Earlier in the week the weather was very wet and she wasn't able to leave the house for two days. But the rice fields were grateful for the prolonged rains and all is well again in the fields now. Fickle farmers! Always too much or not enough!
The builders have finished so she is busy tidying up and getting rid of the sand, soil and stone used in the cement mixing and generally trying to make the place less like the building site it was.
It was Mother's Day on Tuesday and the kids made Khamma feel very special by doing all the cooking and generally pampering her. Also Khamma's mother was treated and spoilt a bit and it all seemed to get emotional with everybody being kind and loving. Certainly life has changed for them in the last few months and it is good to see them so happy. Yo is working hard at school and he was very proud to be 'top of the class' in essay writing.
Khamma's sister, Fern, is going back to France in September to work in a friend's restaurant, but she couldn't resist the temptation to buy a puppy dog from the Ubon pet shop. Sadly the poor little mut had the same fate as Snow White and died barely two weeks after arriving in its new home. These poor animals are taken away from their mother's too early and cannot survive the tough village life.
Fern is having a birthday / leaving party next week. It promises to be a wild night.
Meanwhile the plan is to take a breather from the house building project for a couple of months to get our breath back and then build a rice store for the bumper harvest we are expecting and to upgrade the furniture and things like the television, sofa, pictures on the wall and that sort of thing.
Khamma is coming down to Singapore in a couple of weeks and I am really looking forward to that. She will brighten up Singapore and the apartment with her smile and laughter.
I can't honestly say I have done anything exciting this week. It has been relentless at work but at last it is the weekend and wall to wall sport from Beijing and the UK. The ladies marathon is on Sunday (good luck Paula!), the start of the premier league season (will Man U carry on where they left off?) and a couple of good sessions in the continuing quest to keep some level of personal fitness with a couple of runs on along the beach and a session or two in the fitness centre.
Life might be a roller coaster but you need a rest every now and then.

Wednesday 13 August 2008

Sporting Heroes

The Olympic Games are now well under way and although I have been able to watch only snippets on Singapore's five dedicated TV channels to the event, I started to think about 'Sporting Heroes'. To experience the Olympic competitive spirit at first hand must be an experience nothing short of sensational. Anybody, regardless of their discipline, who participates in an Olympic event must carry the memory of the moment, or moments, for the rest of their lives. But I think it must mean more to some than it does to others. It must be a truly awesome experience for an athlete from a country like say Liechtenstein - who have never won a medal in nearly 60 years of trying - to stand shoulder to shoulder in competition with an athlete at the top of their game - say Michael Phelps the swimmer, knowing you cannot win but just being there is prize enough. Imagine it! It is exciting enough being at the Olympics as a spectator, but to participate against the best of the best, is an experience beyond words.
I started to think of lining up against Haile Gebreselassie in the Olympic marathon and running 'in the zone' stride for stride, mile after mile, with one of the greatest athletes of all time. He is an all time sporting hero.
But what makes him a sporting hero in particular? I started to think about this even more.
There has to be attributes to the make up of a sporting hero and for me these are; talent, greatness, modesty in achievement, attitude and focus on winning, engage with your public and winning against the odds. Sporting heroes are a rare breed because very few fulfil all these attributes.
There are many athletes who think of themselves as heroes for example lets start with football and Christiano Ronaldo. Without doubt he is an exciting talent and set very high standards of football greatness in last season's Premier league. I imagine there are millions of kids around the world who worship him and give him a god like status. But this doesn't make him a hero in my book. Greatness he has in bucket loads, talent for certain, but he is acting as spoilt schoolchild. He lacks the modesty of his greatness, instead of channeling his talent he is too busy beating his sizable chest. He has created a high pedestal from which he shouts out loud in self proclamation of a hero. You can see him as a Freddie Mercury like monarch complete with diamante crown and fur robes. Sorry Ronnie you blew hero status out of the door.
My first sporting hero was Sonny Liston, the great American heavyweight boxer of the 1950's. I remember listening to the wireless commentary of the epic fights against Floyd Patterson and the young Cassius Clay. But soon Cassius took soon took over, as Mohammed Ali, the self proclaimed 'Greatest'. Ali had more talent in the dirt under his finger nail than most boxers of his era and with his attitude he started to write new chapters on sporting achievement. He loved his audience and they loved him, and they still do! His pre fight rantings became legendary; 'Flies like a butterfly, stings like a bee', we all remember. He provided a new sporting spirit and he was a winner, a good winner, a fair winner and a popular winner.
However you need to win in a certain way to achieve the ultimate sporting hero accolade. A true sporting hero will win famously, at least once in his career, against the odds. When you come from a hopeless losing position and somehow create mental focus to win. The higher the odds against winning and coming out on top, the greater the sporting hero status. Enter Ian Botham. He had all the attributes of an individual sporting hero, but he single handedly beat the Aussies in the 1981 test match at Headingley. It has been described as creating something glorious out of nothing - in other words sporting magic.
I cannot think of any sportsman or sportswoman who has all of these attributes in the same measure as Ian Botham. Sure there are greats: George Best, Bobby Charlton, Virginia Wade, John Mcenroe, Stirling Moss, Arnold Palmer, Michael Schmaucher, Steve Redgrave, Alf Tucker. They all have some of the attributes but they don't have them in quantities like Botham had.
What about today's rising stars? Well there is Lewis Hamilton, Wayne Rooney, Andrew Flintoff, Michael Phelps, Paula Ratcliffe. They have greatness, talent, focus, attitude, self belief and I admire all of them, but will they be great sporting heroes? I'm not sure.
But one thing for certain is that the athletes competing in Beijing, whatever their level and whatever their chances of winning, have my admiration for just getting there, and I'm sure they are loving every single moment!

Sunday 10 August 2008

Happy Birthday Singapore!


On the 9 August Singapore became forty three years old. National Day is widely supported as depicted by the flags which have been flying from most buildings and lamp posts for the last three weeks or so. On the surface at least Singapore is a proud nation that likes to celebrate being Singaporean. It contrasts somewhat with England where St George's Day passes by without hardly a murmur despite annual efforts to revive the spirit and generate enthusiasm. I think this is a statement more about the English who only seem to celebrate being English when the the national football team threaten to qualify further than the preliminary rounds of a World Cup or European final competition. For some reason we seem to be embarrassed to publicly acknowledge our sense of collective pride in who we are and what we have achieved. On second thoughts I had better not reflect too much on this.
Modern day Singapore was born out of post war alienation. Britain's ability to rule was in doubt and the perception was that Singapore could not achieve anything more than just being a sleepy extension to the southern end of Malaya. The country was dragged into the bitter conflict of the Malaya crisis and Communism but slowly in the early 1950's, mainly due to the newly formed People's Action Party, a plan emerged to industrialise Singapore's economy.
In 1963 Singapore joined the Malay Federation but after two years it was invited to leave, rather like an unwanted guest at a party! It's ego must have been dented and a sense of worthlessness must have been overwhelming. But, as history now shows us, this was the catalyst for this multi-cultural nation to embark on an ambitious programme of social infrastructure renewal and invention that has created the strong nation it is today. Maybe this is where Singapore's pride and self belief originates from.
Singapore has generated tangible self respect through its social behaviour policies and by doing so has created a strong identity for itself and its population. Enforceable policies of no litter, banning chewing gum, no urinating in public places are admittedly mildly amusing to my Englishness, but I would welcome such behaviour in England. Wouldn't England be a better place to live without the loutish behaviour and like of respect for property regardless of who it belongs to?
Today Singapore is feeling the effects of the world economy downturn just like anybody else, but the feeling is a unity and self belief that having being dumped forty three years ago they have produced a country that is highly desirable. If it wasn't for the innate respect they have you can almost imagine the smugness.
Happy Birthday Singapore!!
So it was with eager anticipation I set out to witness the events in the city. The weather looked threatening but I decided to go ahead anyway. After a quick walk through the Arab district I arrived at the Marina Mall close to the floating pitch I mentioned in a previous post. It turned out that the main event was taking place here but entry is by ticket only! It seems National pride has a price after all!.
There was quite a crowd eagerly awaiting a glimpse of the fly pass from the Singaporean air force and the climax of the firework display. It was in all honestly a bit of a let down from where I was standing, but there was a good atmosphere and although the fireworks from Beijing the previous evening are going to eclipse firework displays for a long time to come, it was a very impressive display nonetheless.
The crowd was happy and dispersed into the Marina Mall to continue shopping and browsing in the endless shops and stores that seem to suddenly appear from nowhere.
I walked back to the Arab district and discovered Burgis Village night market where you can buy Cd's and fake designer watches for S$5 each (£2!). This is another face of Singapore away from the glitzy marble and air con of the malls, where the buzz of the Asian wheeler dealers is alive and thriving. It's the same vibrancy you find in Bangkok and Hong Kong and there's a feeling that in this relatively new country the centuries old traditions of Asia have not been replaced, and, on reflection they never will be.
Despite being young and successful 'Global' Singapore still has the old experienced Asian hands to guide it through the modernity of its aspirations and to make sure it remembers its roots.


Sunday 3 August 2008

The Candle Festival

Each year Ubon Ratchathani holds a candle festival on Asalha Bucha Day and Khao Phansa (Buddhist Lent) day. In my imagination I thought it would be a few stalls with scented candles and a few displays that look fairly good against the dark night sky. I was completely wrong as usual and it reminded me once again I should never make an assumption based on a simple name.
The candles were nothing like the ones you find in the trendy local shops of Uppermill or Hebden Bridge (in the UK), in fact they were nothing like candles. I don't think I saw a single display with a candle burning either. The only thing in common with the 'trendy candles of England' was the wax, and even that wasn't really the same.
Once we found a parking place (no different from Uppermill in that respect!) we entered the park and immediately came across displays mounted on the back of fairly modest 4x4 trucks. The carvings were made entirely out of wax and represented images from Buddhist mythology with intricate and ornate detail. I was impressed and as I looked down the line I could see many similar trucks far into the distance. The place was heaving with people but the atmosphere was friendly and happy with a mix of young and old, Thai and farang.
As we progressed down the park the displays became bigger and the quality was improving with some impressive work being proudly displayed by the sculptors. Their imagination was excellent and they still had work to do to keep their masterpieces from melting by spraying water in a fine spray at regular intervals. I'm not sure of the exact method used in sculpting, but I think the wax must be melted over a framework and then finely carved by hot knife. I suppose if a mistake is made you can melt it back and start again.
There must have been over a hundred displays and eventually we came across the Premier League giants of the Ubon Candle Festival. These were enormous displays depicting scenes from Buddha's life and his journey to Nirvana. Unbelievable skill revealed in a corner of Thailand.
Sadly the cost of producing these displays means that number of exhibits is declining and the size of them reducing. It was estimated that the big displays cost 500,000 baht (getting on for £8,000) which is a lot of money in this part of the world.
Click on the >> icons below to see slides.


Friday 1 August 2008

Back to Earth

Two weeks have passed since the blessing and I suppose I have to admit I am back on the earth with my feet firmly fixed on the ground. From the highs to the lows (well, the less highs at least, because I am an eternal optimist!).

Khamma is living in the house with Yo and occasionally Mama stays over, Pell stays at the weekend after a week at university in Ubon. It is only a matter of time before Mama moves in but this is normal for Thailand so I am well prepared. This isn't a problem, she is after all a lovely person. Clare has gone back to England and I am back in Changi airport. Back to the real world as we made it! Normality?

There is a list as long as your arm of stuff to buy for the house from a replacement fridge to air con; from a sofa to a dvd player. Needless to say there is a lot prioritisation required.

It has been, and still is, a fantastic experience and I wonder at how fast events have moved for me, for us, over the last year or so. Khamma has a new home. Blimey, I have a new home for that matter, and, I work in Singapore. Flippin heck, talk about a life change!

But I believe in change and I have never been comfortable walking a consistent path. I have gone through life against the mainstream and insisted on being different. Forever seeking change and adventure. Always turning the page. I haven't settled in a cosy predictable lifestyle ever since I gave up my job in 1989 to take a year out climbing in the Himalaya, working, skiing and climbing in the Alps. I value my freedom and independence. I have a free spirit, to quote an overused cliche.

Around that time somebody said to me, 'I hope you find what you are looking for'. Those words and U2's lyrics to the classic song with a similar title have rattled in my head for almost two decades:

I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you.

I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her finger tips
It burned like fire(I was) burning inside her.
I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.

I believe in the Kingdom Come
Then all the colours will bleed into one
Bleed into one.
But yes, I'm still running.
You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross of my shame
Oh my shame, you know I believe it.
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for.
But I still haven't found What I'm looking for.

Maybe, just maybe, I am close to finding whatever it is I am looking for in Thamuang!