Same Same But Different and Chiang Mai

Writing is a funny process. Notice I didn’t say fun. It is funny in the way stories progress and stall and take the author on as much of a journey as the reader. If you follow my blog and Facebook page, you already know I am doing the sequel in two different ways. I am not writing in the first person perspective exclusively and doing it scene by scene rather than following a linear process. For this reason, my outline needed to be much more detailed and should have been written in crayon. The twists and developments have really allowed me to expand on characters you love, hate, and perhaps hate to love, and much more. The freedom granted by an all knowing master of the world perspective has been very rewarding and I think it will be as rewarding for the fans too. To be honest, it has been fun to write it as well.

Milestones are important and fifty thousand words, after a fourth serious edit, is close to a third of the way there. Spine thickness and Military Fiction is a serious consideration unless you are the late Clancy. We lost a great storyteller and a man who could ignore many of the rules for writing this genre. I broke a few rules with Grey Redemption, perhaps too many, and adapted my preferred style of writing to address those and I think it worked. I really did a Maass style revision on this last edit and tightened the prose with an eye on micro tension and pacing. While I know I am biased, I think it is much tighter. It lost the labored detail-rich environment some of you loved and others hated. But I think it balanced out, to a better read. I lack my own test reader rich environment being overseas but my diligent and awesome usual suspect is on the job and I am waiting for her thoughts. I also shared it with two people here in the country and as they hadn’t read Grey Redemption the advice was great for making sure it stood alone and not just a sequel. So step by step, day by day I am writing. I am not going to give you any projections on completion as so much is currently on my plate, but it is rolling along.

Chiang Mai has been home for almost three months and the time is quickly approaching for the long flight home to BC. I am looking forward to seeing family and friends as this three month trip has stretched into a year and I know my Mom is looking forward to Inga and I coming home for a bit. Just like trips you want to take but never do because the life you want a break from gets in the way of the life you want to live the opposite is true. This grand year of travel, cultural lessons, and experiences, has soared by. The research for the book has been invaluable and allowed me to tighten up the prose without lessening the impact of the writing, or so I believe. The proof will be in the response I get from the test readers and what they think. Personally I believe I have.

So we have to leave this Northern paradise around the middle of the month. Tickets are booked, with an added little stop in Hong Kong. The flight was the best for time and stopovers. However, the HK stop was a little tight and so I decided that a little three-day vacation in the exciting city was a good little vacation. Yes, I know a vacation from the vacation Covey? But in reality I have been working pretty hard on this new MSS and Inga really worked hard at her Massage course.

They had said intensive, but this is Thailand, and that brings a different meaning. Or so I thought. Nope intense it was and she pushed through despite coming home each night tired and sore to crash in bed early. I am very proud of her achievement as most people take a break and stretch the course longer than the month. So three days in Hong Kong is a nice little reward for the two of us.

  We have made many friends in this laid back quite little city and have both been enriched by the experiences here and the little bits of Thai culture we have added to our own. Experiences are what you make of them and take from them and we have both learned a great deal. Past the shifting focus of what is important and needed, to an understanding of what is life and what is noise. We are indeed blessed by learning this at such a young age.

Chiang Mai. The second month and writing progress

      I find that I am writing too much on the sequel to Grey Redemption to make the time to sit down and blog. But today the guilt got the best of me. The current MSS is 39000 words after third edit and I think a third of the way done. We all know I tend to get a little wordy! So while a local friend reads through my second edit printed draft, I get to write for you. Let’s all extend thanks to Chris.

     I am sitting in a garden at a Massage school listening the birds compete with the clack clack clack rhythm of the ancient massage technique called Tok Sen.  Inga is enrolled here as a student and I come along to keep her company every other day. She has been learning the basic forms of traditional Thai massage for the past couple of weeks and will finish in a couple more. I get to be a little more spoiled by this amazing woman. The school is called TTC School of Massage and we discovered it after doing a ton of research that involved talking with actual students. It is out of the central part of Chiang Mai and in a very tranquil and beautiful area. So  our day starts with an 820 Tuk Tuk ride to the school and we get to see the local commute. Many students stay at the school and we meet them for breakfast and a many nationality good morning.

This seems to me to be the style the school was fashioned to represent. An environment of supported self-discovery and learning along with dedicated instruction by very skilled masters. Many Japanese people travel to this school to just learn the Tok Sen technique. It came from this area, is centuries old and works on moving and stimulating energy flow and fixing blockages with a small hammer and stick. I know I didn’t really buy it either. But after seeing it done and having it done twice it is incredible and I can understand why various healthcare types travel to learn it here! Inga has had a toe issue that caused her pain if she wore shoes that put stress to the side of one of her toe joints. She has had it for years, and like many pains we’ve had for years she figured out workarounds for dealing with it. This failed in one of the stretching exercises that makes up Thai Massage and she was in considerable pain. Mark, an Australian gentleman of incredible insight and character put her on the table and did a Tok Sen massage. The pain was gone by the end of the session and the area that had been sensitive for years, fine. There is an energy in this place that even a nihilistic cynic like me has to admit. I can’t write any really violent or aggressive scenes while I am here with Buddha watching, me in the garden. The energy of this school is really that palatable.

   

To celebrate International Women’s Day, I wanted to do something special for Inga. I contacted a very nice tour agent here in Chiang Mai called Na and she suggested a private river trip down the Ping in a Scorpion boat. I left her to arrange all the details after explaining to her what this day meant to people of Russian culture. She knocked it out of the park and created the perfect day for us. Providing the perfect balance of couple alone time and doing the tour guide thing explaining history and the like. The Ping River was the main thoroughfare and transportation route in days gone by and still serves today in a much-diminished capacity. It is not a deep river, only a couple of meters in some places and rarely twice that. This changes a little in the rainy season but only for a few weeks.

 It is a broad river and its brown hued water flows past some of the most beautiful houses in Chiang Mai squished beside little fishing hovels.  It was a great relaxing couple of hours watching locals fish and children swim. Na had made reservations at a restaurant that showed the history of farming and that of the river. It was also the place used in the last Rambo installment when we meet Rambo and his riverboat. Past the Hollywood and the education elements, this restaurant grows or raises everything they cook. The meal the three of us shared was incredible. Herbs, rice, and spices added to the dishes, were grown meters away from where they grew. A new idea of fresh, or perhaps an old way of life perfectly transported to the new tourist world of Chiang Mai.

Vientiane and the Visa run to Laos

     

One can’t spend too much time in Thailand talking with expats or visitors of a longer duration without the topic of Visa runs being raised. Everyone has a tale, a story, or as my friend Riz would say; “porky pies." The difference between the stories being the storyteller’s motivation, to regale, brag or instill fear. A search of forums and the web have all sorts of advice on the cheapest, easiest, best way. The problem a researcher runs into is not just the inaccuracy of the story based on the above, but also the when. South East Asia is a quickly growing and changing place. What was “true” on Friday may be not so true on Monday morning? The original story may be slightly embellished, proving the writer's powers of negotiation, or entirely fabricated. Armed with this knowledge and understanding Inga and I set off to Laos on a Sunday afternoon in February.

            While cheap, easy, best, seem at the start to be definitive in nature they are not. What is cheap depends on your budget and what you place value in. I value time and safety over money so for me cheap was a Nok Air flight from Chiang Mai to Udon Thani near the Laos border. Mini Vans do make the same trip at about a third the cost, but I have heard “tales” of horror. Even if these horror stories are not as true as the telling the mere fact of being stuck in a van for eight hours at the mercy of the driver for bathroom breaks on challenging Thai roads made the decision an easy one.

            Once in Udon Thani the options for a ride to the Friendship Bridge and border are varied. Bus, minibus, or “go now limo” are the most convenient. Apparently a city bus style route exists but without a Thai interpreter that option died on arrival. We opted for the ‘go now limo’ and, for us, it was a good value. During the hour long ride thru the city and out to the border, I witnessed three Minibus incidents ranging from close to stupidly tight how did they not just crash.

            The border itself is run very well on both sides. You hand your filled out departure card and with two stamps and a smile your leave Thailand. You leave the building and then run into a modern day sheep herder. His job is to get you into one of the buses that drive across the bridge. I have read you can walk across, but I don’t know how one would do this as the chaos in this no-mans-land area between the two countries is intense. So he directed me back to immigration and Inga spotted the bus ticket seller just to the right of the immigration door. Tickets purchased we were herded onto a waiting bus for the trip. It isn’t a long trip but considering dusk had just fallen, and our mosquito spray was packed, forty Bhat was cheap and easy. On the other side of the bridge, one fills out the forms and the Immigration Officer conducts an on the spot interview in superb English and polite manner. You hand over your passports with the required cash amount for your country and in three minutes you have a cool looking visa allowing you a month in the Peoples Democratic Republic of Laos.

            We were approached during the process by a young man offering help and smiling I said that my English was pretty good and I could muddle through it. He smiled, understanding, and then offered a ride into town. A short negotiation of how much and what kind of transport and we had our ride into Vientiane. He hovered close and checked how we were doing and politely offered suggestions. The ride into the capital of Laos was comfortable in an air-conditioned minivan with us as the only passengers.

            Arriving at the Lao Golden Hotel had me questioning my decision to book it. I knew it was very close to the Consulate of Thailand and was a three-star hotel. The street appeal of the property is a little lacking. Inside however the staff were excellent and the night manager had enough English to make it all work.  The day personnel and the hotel manager speak perfect English and the three days we stayed were very pleasant. The breakfast included with the stay is good and well executed and the kitchen staff and manager very professional.

            Our helpful driver had told us that Monday would be busy and to arrive at the consulate early.  Inga and I went for a night time walk to find the consulate and enjoyed the cool jungle air. It was only about five minutes by foot and the neighborhood very quiet after Chiang Mai.  We arrived back at the hotel and got an early start on sleep, both of us tired from the travel and wondering how the easier, cheaper routes would have felt.

            The Consulate opened at 830 and we arrived at 7:45 to find a line about fifty meters long. The line stretched along the narrow sidewalk, already crammed with people selling services and food. We were approached by a couple of people politely offering to fill out the forms for us and we declined and then set to watching the spectacle. Many different nationalities surrounded us and most had come on minibusses doing the cheap, easy visa run. They looked tired and happy to be standing in line. We watched one of the service helpers diligently set up his stall. To say the man was detail  orientated would have been wronging thousands with illness. I knew we needed a photocopy of the front page of our visa and had intended to do it at the embassy on the top floor but the price was right and I knew this guy would do it correctly the first time. He offered to look at my paperwork and concluded that we needed photocopies of our Laos visa, and stamps, and I needed a new picture. He also gave us two applications and cut and glued our pictures on them. The price he charged was about 20 Bhat more than if I had done it inside. A great value for a while, you wait service.

            Inside the embassy grounds are beautiful and amazingly so given the enormous amount of human traffic that is seen on a daily basis. A small snack bar provides coffee and treats at a reasonable price and there is even a small smoking area. We stood in line until we reached a covered area to the rear of the compound and then received a number after our documents got a once over from junior staff. Inga and I found a spot and filled out the forms and waited for our number to be called. It is run very efficiently and the staff are very helpful and polite. We left after about two hours total time without passports to explore the city.

       

    Vientiane is very different than Chiang Mai and so are the people. Things are about the same price with the exception of street food being a little cheaper and Tuk Tuks being more expensive. The city itself is charming with the French and Soviet influence very apparent in the buildings and road designs. The people are a little shyer but still pleasant. English is spoken less frequently here and Bhat and Kip used as a single currency. In fact, the speed at which they can do the conversion is pretty impressive. We walked perhaps too far on this day. The weather was sweltering and the humidity very high yet we pushed ourselves to go see That Luang a huge temple complex northeast of the city center.  It was impressive and very different from Thai temples. The return journey found both the temperature and our blood pressure climbing. We relaxed the rest of the day and enjoyed an excellent meal at the hotel.

            The next morning found us again walking, yet this time in the rain. A cloud system had rolled in cutting off the direct sunlight. We enjoyed a long walk to the waterfront and found little shelter points along the way to dodge the greater deluges. This is jungle rain after all and when it comes down it comes down! To be honest both Inga and I remarked how we missed the rainstorms of Vancouver and we found a little café and enjoyed a drink both of us missing BC a little.

            The rain stopped and we took a route down to the Presidential Palace and the Chao Anouvong Park and Monument. We had the entire place to ourselves as everyone had the good sense to stay out of the rain. But to us the rain was warm and the cooler temperature allowed for a longer walk. The morning swept by and soon I had us walking in the direction of the Embassy to pick up our passports and hopefully our sixty-day tourist visas.

         

There wasn’t a lineup when we arrived at the Embassy and we each got a number and waited for them to open the doors to main building. This is the secure side of the Embassy and it is where you paid your fees the day before. The people waiting in the large room were most of the same individuals we had seen the day before. Some looking very worse than they had a short twenty-four hours ago. The system was again smooth and number driven and Inga and I both received the visas we requested.
That good news and stress gone from our day we had a small lunch and recharge before heading once again on foot to the waterfront steps to enjoy a cigar and sunset over the Mekong River before hitting the night market.
 

First week In Chiang Mai

    So one of the things that really inspired me to writing was the idea that I could show others the world as I see it. No guessing “What the writer is trying to say or his motivation for doing the story” like we were all asked in school. I think I have achieved that goal and I think many readers enjoy my view or “take” on the places I tell you about. Robert Dugoni is fond of telling a story where he is sitting poolside and the person he is with suggests he start writing. His response is that he is, plotting twists and turns in his latest book My Sisters Grave. I remembered that story as I came down to the pool this morning carrying my 13 MacBook Pro. It reminded me of a dream I once had; to be secure enough to be able to sit poolside as an author. To toss off the shackles of Starbucks and the leather padded tweed jacket and live the exotic lifestyle of a “paperback writer.”

Just as we need our dreams to drive us forward, we rely on self-sarcasm to keep us grounded and a creative memory as a guide book.

    Never the less today does in truth find me poolside in Chiang Mai Thailand. Living if not cheaply then inexpensively enough to be secure in my dream as an author. It also finds me struggling to balance play time, research time, travel time, husband time, social media time, and writing time! Mr. Dugoni is again motivational today as I think about our conversation last week in which he told me about his guy who takes care of his social web stuff. So now I have a new goal, thanks, Robert. I need to get to the point that responding to fan email and messages is once again a treat and not one of those things on the list of things struggling for attention. Without achieving that dream, I fear the next book is a long way off! This should not be construed in any way to say I don’t enjoy your letters, messages, comments, and critiques.

    So Chiang Mai. There is a ton of stuff written about this city in the North of Thailand. I have read critiques that people say too nice of things about the place. The inference here is that they are not entirely truthful. While it is true the country of Thailand is under Military Law and the Military has stated they are taking this situation and, as such, the interpretation of Military Law very seriously I don’t feel muzzled as a writer. As a foreign guest here and Russia before this I feel like I can comment on my observations. Just as in Russia I can say what it is like to me as a visitor to a new culture and country but to comment past that I think would be irresponsible. I am hardly an expert on either countries, history or culture.  I think one of the things in this world  that create problems are irresponsible “experts” interfering or commenting in other countries affairs.

    This is not to say I haven’t noticed the increased Military presence. But it is unobtrusive and life seems to go on as normal from everything I have seen. The other day Inga and I walked up to one of the big Universities as it looked like graduation was going on. We were right it was and we walked around past hundreds uniformed officers of various decorations. To a person, they all smiled at us and many nodded and I should point out we were the only white people walking about. We stopped to have a drink at one of the many street side cafes in the area and after a time noticed a lack of traffic. Then two uniformed officers very politely approached us and ask we move back off the street table as the Princess was about to go by in a motorcade. They made the request in English and very politely. While obvious they fully expected me to do as asked it was none the less done with Thai friendliness and good  manners. The Royal motorcade went by and the café’s owner and workers came out to see it and you could see the love and adoration they have for her and the entire Royal Family. Being Canadian I am not really a Monarchist but it was very cool to witness this here in Thailand.

I have been in Chiang Mai before so I am having fun being tour guide for Inga and we are doing the typical touristy things people do in this old city.  We have also been doing a ton of walking and all over the city and not just in the safer tourist areas. I have yet to feel even a little uncomfortable and we have traveled into every manner of street and market.

    The other night we decided to take in a Jazz concert held at the famous Ta Pae Gate, Chiang Mai. It was an outdoor event and was free. Jazz de LANNA it was called and we had seen signs advertising it all over Chiang Mai. It started very early at 5:30pm and continued all night long till about 11pm. The event had many sponsors along with the TAT, better known as the Thailand Authority of  Tourism, and it was a well put on show. The military was there, and again they were all very polite and vigilant. It actually made me feel very safe as I witnessed how they scanned the crowd and watched what was tossed into trash bins. They even watched me when I tossed in the remains of the dinner Inga and I had bought at the market/carnival style food venues. The very interesting old/new mix Thailand does so well was once again on display. Night Market food venues with pricing in reach of the locals and fancy hotel sponsored tents selling exotic food at slightly higher prices but still within a small splurge range for locals. The stage was very professionally done and the sound was truly world class. The event headlined Jazz sensations, Howard McCrary, Koh Saxman and Khun. Legendary Jazz Master Howard McCrary has worked with many famous names in the music scene in the US. The backup acts were talented as well and the range in style and delivery really appealed to the very multinational crowd. Plastic chairs allowed many to sit and a VIP section of leather couches must have had some very special guests as I watched an army officer walk up and take a picture of one of the VIPS saluting before and after. Inga and I enjoyed a large part of the show from the ground before retreating to a third-floor terrace patio that was part of a Starbucks to finish the evening. Even from across the street the sound was perfect and the music and message magical. Harry’s voice communicating great respect for the King of Thailand in an individual song and the love of peace in the entire set, finishing the evening with Imagine.

So while we continue to acclimatize ourselves to the warm winter in the Jungle I really have to say Chiang Mai is as nice as it is reported to be. Tuk Tuk drivers are quick to smile and relent when they try to overcharge you for a ride home by 50 Bhat, or about a buck US. The streets are a little dangerous to cross but most car drivers are vigilant, so you just have to watch the scooters. The people are warm and friendly and not just because you’re a “rich tourist”. Things move at a little slower pace but perhaps that is a cultural lesson we could all learn from.

On the topic of foreigners and scooters we met a Russian fellow by the pool the other day who on spotting my tattoo was very happy to talk in his native tongue to Inga and I. He related an experience he had while driving a larger, more powerful, scooter. He was going north to visit a high mountain temple and got hit. His injuries were pretty bad, damaging his left arm significantly. He doesn’t remember the actual event, just being passed by two cars on a corner and then waking up in the hospital. He said the healthcare system was superb and he was pleased with his progress healing. He told us how the driver stopped and two men he didn’t know got him help and to the hospital. Glad to see this Thai kindness extended to my adopted countries nationals as well.

  So to my friends, fans, and now famous Robert Dugoni, good afternoon from poolside in Chiang Mai. I am writing and please take the time to appreciate one another and the beautiful things we all have achieved. Don’t let those achievements rule your life as life is short and for the living. Specifically to my writer-types “this day we write!”

Back in Chiang Mai with Feeling and Contrast

   

   I am back in Chiang Mai and so an arrival blog is in order. Flying nine hours is like the tipping point for the definition of a long flight. I think what adds to that definition are transfers and contrast. We had to transfer in Bangkok, but what makes this trip long is the contrast between Russia and Thailand. The transition between the two cultures is something we haven’t yet got used to. We still catch ourselves saying, “Da” instead of “Yes” and comparing prices to the ruble. Luckily “Da” sounds like “Ka”, the Thai short form of “Yes”. The flight itself was pleasant and the seats on the 777 style aircraft were comfortable. Aeroflot service was typical, and by that I mean good. However, the two weeks in Moscow had my lower back pretty trashed. To be honest it was probably tweaked when I twisted my ankle in Anapa and then the cold weather, and slippery streets completed the job. Luckily massage is inexpensive in Chiang Mai.

The weather itself is a significant change. We left a ‘warm’ Moscow at –8 and landed in +30 metric. The language barrier I experienced in Russia, shifted to Inga. She speaks perfect English, but eight months in Russia has her syntax structure messed up speaking English and then there is her accent. We were looking for a market locals go to in order to buy fresh groceries and Inga asked a traffic cop where the market was once we got in the general area. He blinked and furrowed his brow as he attempted to understand what she had asked. I repeated the question and he smiled in understanding, relief relaxing his brow he nodded and pointed down a side street. What is odd is, to me, Inga’s question sounded exactly like my question sounded. But to the cop it was the difference between understanding and not.

Home in Chiang Mai is one of Richard Katze’s properties and one I have stayed in before. Richard is a real gentleman and an invaluable resource for anyone wishing for an easy transition to Chiang Mai. The condo was again stocked with water and snacks and Richard welcomed us personally after his lovely wife and son welcomed us at the airport. This level of service is beyond cost, when you arrive tired and sore, even in a place you know. A drink and toast on the balcony had me wishing for a cigar as we watched planes stack up in the dark night sky for their own final approach to the “Land of Smiles.”

The contrast between the ever busy Moscow and the chaotically busy Chiang Mai was funny. People made way and smiled at us on the sidewalk as the scooters, motorbikes, tuk tuks, and cars threatened us with death on the roadways. I am taking creative license a little bit here but truthfully only a little. Crossing streets is probably one of the most dangerous things one does in this city. The people are kind and helpful, and the feel of the city is one of safety. Basic strategy for roadways is insuring the driver sees you, made difficult with tinted windows and left and right-hand drive cars, and then trust that once seen they won't hit you. It is hard but like Moscow drivers that somehow have a collective understanding of what each is trying to do, it comes with time. I doubt Inga will ever get comfortable with a scooter passing inches from her side, but then she does tend to surprise me at times.

I spent the morning watching President Obama give his state of the Union address while Inga cooked some of the fresh delicacies she had found in the market. Contrast again came to the forefront of my mind as I watched. Russians really don’t like propaganda, as it dictated much of their old Soviet life  and are very sensitive to it now in the new Russia. Putin gives his year-end address as the year closes and Obama gives his as the New Year begins. If you have been following this blog you, will understand the cultural reasons for this. Each is saying how they see what has happened in the year past and what the outlook is for the future. Let’s extend to them the courtesy that each is telling the truth, honestly, as THEY see it. What I see as a dramatic difference is the American President talks to you and the Russian President answers to you. The contrast is incredible. Obama has the floor and a prepared speech that clearly outlines his vision both of past achievements and future directions. Putin has the floor and takes questions from the floor and talks on those points put forward. Now it is without a doubt that some of those asking questions are prepped and scripted but it is also without doubt that many are not. Obama’s address was an hour and Putin’s is usually over two hours. One has the feel of propaganda and the other does not.  After the address in America, the press asks pundits and Senators in various states what they thought and in Russia the press ask the people and Captains of Industry.  I think that there is a great deal to be learned from the Russian Bear in this regard. If a speech and campaign advertisement are going to be aired for an hour, then the party should pay for the airtime. I did not learn anything new in that hour long speech and so it wasn’t in the traditional sense NEWS. It was short on facts and long on promises without any roadmap of sorts to show how these great ideas were going to come to fruition! So it was to use the old CCCP term state sponsored propaganda. So why do Americans accept this? Russians certainly would not. Alas, Canadians probably wouldn’t notice. Apathy toward our government is at an all-time high, and this is  much worse than debating starry ideas and  political propaganda.

 

Just some of my thoughts and ideas sitting poolside in a country currently under military law and wondering at the rest of the world.

Moscow in the snow.

     So Inga and I had made the decision to stay in Moscow till the end of the holiday season and spend time with her sister Liana and Liana’s two teenage daughters. Moscow in the winter is like a bear, temperamental and unpredictable.  We arrived at the central Moscow Airport to minus 18 and blizzard like conditions. Coming from sunny Anapa, it was quite a shock as was our landing. It was the first time in my life, and hopefully my last, that I’ve been in a plane that fishtailed on landing. We aren’t just talking a wiggle in the junk either but a full on Dukes Of Hazzard fishtail on touchdown. I was certainly happy to have a Russian pilot on the controls that evening. Due to the storm our luggage took forever to reach the carousel and which exact carousel was in question as well. It changed several times with long blanks between changes. Finally, our stuff came down and we were on our way out of the now familiar airport.

    I often hear qualitative statements about cold. It’s a dry cold, or wet cold. I have never really understood those, so let me make up one of my own. It was a buddy ball liver cold, in that your balls recede up and snuggle with your liver. The scything gusts of the wind reminded you very quickly you need a toque on both your heads if your culture happens to follow the de-toguing practice. Yet the warmth of Apress’s Mercedes was just a quick jaunt across three lanes of traffic and so with anatomy returning to its usual place we made our way to Moscow.

The road has been updated and now you drive right by the mass of cooling towers for the nuclear power plant. Perhaps it is because I grew up with shows like The China Syndrome I find these silent energy sentinels a little foreboding. No one else seems to notice as the conversation is animated and in Russian mixed with Ossetian and I let my attention drift along with the falling snow marveling at the lack of cars in the ditch. Snow like this in the lower mainland all too frequently comes with the ditch decorated by various vehicles.  The trip out to what we would call the suburbs was much quicker on the new road and we arrived at my sister in laws house and to a much-needed meal.

   

Moscow is an incredible city both in size and culture. But perhaps what makes it most amazing is its History. The buildings contrast between Soviet-era block apartments and grand palaces and churches. The scale of some of these public spaces is hard to believe and the architecture breathtaking. The locals seem to pay them as much attention as they do the cooling towers I mentioned earlier. I guess you get used to what you have. The western influence on Moscow is easy to see in fashion and gadgets. More so in talking to locals about perceived value of some products. This kind of conversation has come around more frequently as a result of the economic sanctions imposed on the country and the connected falling Ruble.

    Russians just seem to believe Western products are better than Russian ones simply by virtue of being Western. A Dodge Colt is held above a Lada despite the Lada having definite build advantages and easy, cheap access to parts.  When I tell them I don’t see too many 1973 Colts driving around Vancouver yet I do see lots of Ladas from that time here, they see it oddly. They perceive I am saying we are rich hence no old cars and them as a people are not. It is only when I drag the conversations back to the original point of build quality and longevity of the product do they get my point. Yet despite this they still have a hard time with the concept. Advertising from the west, as well as marketing, is what I believe to be the difference. To say it is better or slicker is like comparing western ads from the sixties to those we will see at the next Super Bowl. Product marketing is not quite as bad but not up to the challenge either.  As an example, Aeroflot has a frequent flyer program that is better when compared with the ones in the west. However, their marketing of the product is so culturally locked and Russian language biased that they can’t hope to compete in the global market. Significant route changes and deals for award-point flights are sent to Russian speaking members, but not those that ticked the English box. Inga’s account gets significant communication in Russian, but my mailbox is empty. Even when they canceled the Toronto to Moscow direct flight in October they didn’t send out a notification to me. All, I see, are the save 2 percent on your next ticket purchase email that comes with my flight confirmation letter. Even this 2% that I've never used as it isn't mobile device friendly hits wrong with Western clients. Perceived value, loyalty recognition, and appreciation are very culturally biased and they have really missed the mark. Even their tier structure is based on a calendar year and not a year with them. So if you joined later in the year but flew 24 thousand miles, come January first you go back to zero with everyone else. The focus remaining large and general, rather than on the individual. Missing the point that discounts don’t attract Westerners to a frequent flyer programs individually focused service and commitment does. So despite having better service, much better food, and drinks, and the best route they had to cancel service from Toronto due to lack of passengers. No Aeroflot you lost the game out of the gate, culturally hamstrung like the Lada you can’t compete.

I don’t want these examples to look like I am bashing Aeroflot, Lada, or Russians! I am not saying they are bad, to be truthful they are better. I picked them to provide the example that while Russia may have a free market economy the global cultural differences are very vast. To compete in the world market, a company needs to get that.

    One Russian company that did get this is YotaPhone. They released an Android based phone designed by Russians, incorporating Russian thinking, and released it on a Global scale. The biggest selling point is it has two displays. As a westerner, I think ok pretty gimmicky, back and front displays make it hard to put in a case, easy to break, and why? So I checked out the website a very long time ago and then they rolled out the ad campaign, and I got it. I got it two ways actually, from a westerner living in Russia and knowing access to power can sometimes be a challenge and from a form and function design point of view. Then this company took the phone to the Consumer Electronics Show in Vegas! The average Russian doesn’t know much about CES and the phone isn’t even for sale in the USA yet, and they really can’t hope to make inroads into that market share if it was for sale! BRAND RECOGNITION is why and they got more than recognition the YotaPhone2 Won!

So not every Russian company is locked into this old way of thinking but like in Canada the bigger giants are slow to change and adapt to global world economy than the new ones.  Perhaps even one-day Russian tourists will just stand in line at airport check in, luggage and passport in hand, and not a plastic protector carrying a sheaf of papers. “This is the modern digital age." If the Russian economy wants to be more immune from outside influence, it needs to boost its’ marketing. I bought a YotaPhone 2  because it works better for my needs than an iPhone 6. My sister in law’s kids really were at a loss to why until they saw the ads and I explained it. RUSSIA YOU MAKE GREAT STUFF, you always have made excellent products. The western companies just got better at propaganda and marketing than you ever were.

    So aside from buying expensive Russian phones and discussing Global economic structures and differences I went on a picnic in the snow. If you have been following this blog for a while you, will know that BBQ’s and social time is huge in Russian culture. So is discussing significant issues but I’ve already done all of that for this blog. The weather is so unpredictable that our plans had to be very fluid and luckily life in Moscow allows for that.

Inga and her Sister Liana set to putting stuff together one morning and before I knew what exactly was going on Apress was at the door and we were loading the car. It was warmer this morning about –12 metric and the snow had covered everything not walked or driven on in a gorgeous blanket of silk. We drove about ten minutes to a large park and unloaded. Apress had invited three of his friends to meet the Canadian and join in a winter BBQ celebrating the holiday season.  The three guests had arrived early and had a BBQ going and vodka chilling in the abundant snow. I was greeted in the warm fashion and with hands shook and names attempted we set to enjoying the day. Toasts were enjoyed and with the meat cooking, we discussed life, the universe, and our world. With a smattering of English, a dash of Russian and a splash of Vodka we all eventually understood each other and when it got past hand gestures Inga was there to translate.

The friends Apress invited were all great guys and really went out of their way to make me feel welcome. They all said hello in English first and this show of respect was not missed by me. I returned the respect by speaking as much Russian as I could whenever I could during the day.  What I find really cool is everyone knows what to do at a gathering like this. Each person picks a job and without any direction sets to making food, laying out tables, and getting everything ready. No one has to ask what to do. Back home this task sometimes takes on the feeling of a board meeting and can be as equally enjoyable.  In Russia, people are used to these types of social gatherings and just as they ignore the stuff I’ve pointed out earlier really miss this luxury as well. Society here is actually designed to spend time with friends in public places and engage with each other something the West could really learn from.

    A trip to Moscow in the winter would not be complete without a visit to Red Square. Russia really goes all out for this time of celebration and it actually comments on the culture and character of these people that despite the challenges the focus is fun and inclusive, focusing on what they do have and all things positive. A breath of relief and fresh air actually. The fireworks were measured in tons and no doubt so was the vodka. People on the street shook stranger's hands and wished them Happy New Year. The lights and decorations are something that should really be on everyone’s bucket list as is seeing the Kremlin itself. To be honest, I am not a big church and Icon kind of person. But the sheer size, age, and drama of the structures and design is incredible. So is the history these buildings hold, it confirms the things I’ve come to know about the Russian people. They are warm and generous, and proud to a fault with every right to be so!

    So with this Blog I close the chapter in Russia. I have done all the research I needed to do to make the next book rich with people, places, and culture. Thank you, Rodina for being exactly what you are and nothing like I expected. Thanks to all my friends in Anapa, Vladikavkaz,  and Moscow for your warm and honest hospitality. Finally thank you to my Russian family, without whom none of this would have been remotely possible!

Next stop Thailand and Chiang Mai…..

The Social Media experiment and Thailand.

       I did a little test on my private facebook page and I think sharing it will be culturally illuminating. I posted a message saying Happy Birthday to President Putin and added a funny picture depicting the two presidents in day-to-day activities that called President Obama’s manliness’ into question. I got the idea talking about cultural differences and ideologies. Freedom of speech is an idea but if it stops at just an idea it really isn’t worth the cost it took to entrench it in our culture. In the discussion around this, I was asked to put my money where my mouth was. The general feeling here is people in the West don’t like Russians because of the countries policies.  Sanctions and sound byte rhetoric hasn’t helped this feeling as Russian people have unfettered access to outside news and have a smattering of English language ability. Perhaps not enough to capture the entire message, but enough to get the gist. So in my test I posted this picture and wishes and added something that was both true and an achievement about President Putin. Being polite is a Canadian stereotype.
 
The feeling was that in 24 hours my Facebook page would be inundated with harsh or downright hateful statements. My feeling was one of uncertainty as I really didn’t know what the post response would be. I know I hoped it would be respectful and I wished the brainwashing attempt of the Western media had failed as I like to think my friends and family are intelligent and respect the idea of freedom.
 
So the 24 hours are up and I was right, no hateful messages. What  made this test even more special is the response I got. As it is a private page, I will not add a name, but the one response I did get was from someone who risked his life defending these very same ideologies. A personal hero of mine and a man I deeply respect. He said, “Wow."  So in explaining this to friends here deepened both respect and understanding. They know I have family in the USA and were significantly more than a little surprised they said nothing. To have a Canadian soldier who has had Russian-made hardware fired in anger at him comment so respectfully really raised the bar on respect and understanding. It was obvious on the faces of these very hard men, many soldiers themselves that they understood what freedom of speech meant to us and while they may not agree with the statement “they will die protecting your right to say it.”  

Another less serious part of the test is just the cultural idea of what a man is. In Russia, a man is a provider and protector. Please notice I used “a” and not “the” in that statement. For men, it is important to do things stereotypically seen as manly like hunting, fishing, and engaging in tough activities. Less importance is put on the emotional side of things like connecting with the hosts of The View and sharing. This is not to suggest men are not emotionally connected to their partner. They just have a better understanding of the relationship. Equality has been alive and well in Russia a lot longer than in other cultures around the world so there seems little need to bemoan glass ceilings or gender inequality. People and relationships have in many cases settled on roles based on mutual acceptance, without life coaches and support groups. When men bring flowers, the arrangements are huge, beautiful, and may cost a day or two's salary. They do this past the usual reasons for flowers, they do it as they feel romantic and want to express it.

That was my foray into live Social Media experiments. For the many of you that are both friends and fans on my private page this is what that post was about that you saw and thought your private thoughts. I guess in that is the truest of truths. Our ideas and opinions are exactly that; ours and ours alone.  When an ideology becomes polarized with the added emotional dogma of culture, religion, patriotism, and lacks understanding of a different perspective it becomes explosive. Many of you probably shared the “Wow” sentiment and perhaps wondered and additional “WTF?” as well. Thanks for being my test group, and proving to many here in Russia that our ideologies are not just propaganda and rhetoric. That we do hold these ideas sacred and we “talk the talk and walk the walk.”

      So Mike Tyson probably said it best when he said a plan is only good until the point you get punched in the face. Living full time in Russia would probably be ok if I weren't such a chatterbox and social butterfly. However like Popeye said, “I am what I am.” So while browsing cheap visa run possibilities I saw a hot fair to Thailand. Thailand! I thought, wow visa run and mileage run all in one. So I booked it and hopped on a plane from Anapa to Moscow, and then ten hours south to Asia.
 
I am getting quite used to traveling inside Russia and know the way things go and what to expect so I like playing a game. The game goes something like this. How far can I get speaking only Russian and making the people think I am Russian? All the way to Thailand! I made it from Anapa on the Black Sea to Moscow and to my overnight hotel without having to resort to English or comedic gestures. The trick is not so much understanding the language but the culture of Russia. You need to adopt the walk and the way of interacting with the staff in a bored and relaxed way. I figured the international flight out would be a little more difficult and it was, but the look on the Passport Control Officers face was priceless when I handed my Canadian passport over. Seems like I have relaxed quite well into this culture. I even asked a Police Officer where the lounge was in the departures area, as I couldn’t get a cell signal to search for it. This is not really something a Russian would do. But my poor accent must have been mistaken for extreme frustration as the cop actually gestured and said, “Relax, follow me.”

So twelve hours found me in Bangkok, two in the lounge drinking beer, and then ten hours on the plane sleeping like a baby thanks to the previous two hours of beer drinking. I snore loudly when I drink, I’ve known this for years and have used it quite effectively in the past to get a room all to myself, and the same was true on the flight.  I awoke with the six other passengers moved to new seats. I apologized, its Canadian, and was told it wasn’t a problem. So I arrived in Bangkok refreshed and rested and as it was only 9 had the entire day to visit the city. Before I did that I had to enter the Kingdom.

The Kingdom is currently under Martial Law. When you hear that the thoughts it brings to mind differ depending on where you’re from.  For me, I thought that they would be a little more diligent in the entrance process and hoped they would still give me a thirty-day exempt visa. The process was no different than many other countries and I soon found myself in a huge airport. Bangkok airport, or BKK, is wonderfully laid out and very easy to navigate. The people are friendly and helpful and the whole Martial Law thing quickly slipped from my mind. I called a Uber taxi after getting a mobile phone sim at the airport. The phone sim was cheap and easy and the girls working the kiosk helpful and fast. They set up the phone and made sure it worked and showed me how to refill the minutes. The entire process took perhaps ten minutes. I hit the bank machine on the way out and grabbed my Uber driver using the GPS location sent to my phone.

Uber is more expensive to take from the airport, but the car was better than the regular taxis and the driver's English was good.  He was the one that actually told me he was more expensive. I asked the question and he said if I wasn’t long lined and they went on the meter that the trip would have been about ten dollars cheaper. He went on to explain that was a lot of ifs and that they wouldn’t use the expressway, as its paid, like we were going to do to avoid traffic. I so love Uber!
The hotel was listed as a five star and it was cheap. It was cheap and perhaps a five star a few years ago, I’d give it four, but it was clean and the staff great. I checked in early and set off to see some cultural sites.

As an older western tourist traveling alone, you immediately get sold the “boom boom” options. It took quite a great deal to convince my Tuk Tuk driver that I really did just want to see the statues and cultural stuff. But with effort we finally had an understanding that the kickbacks he’d get taking me to one of these fishbowls or shows wasn’t worth the risk of me getting out of his tuk tuk and walking away. A tuk tuk is a three wheeled motorbike that many use as primary transportation. There are also scooter taxis but riding “bitch” on a scooter that weighed less than me, driver included,  in Bangkok traffic seemed overtly reckless.

We did a few local temples and at each one he waited patiently for me. Then we set off to find a place that sold e-cigarette devices, as I had to replace the tank on my Aspire system. This took a few hours as things are very hard to find in Bangkok even with addresses and pictures. So after about seven hours together we arrived back at the hotel and I asked how much I owed him. We had agreed on a fare to the temple, but I had forgot to get a price for the other. Breaking the rule always agree on a price before getting onto a Tuk Tuk. He did the usual thing and said “whatever you think is fair." So in these cases I default to what was his service worth to me in Canadian dollars.  I handed him 500 baht and he was happy confirming our trip tomorrow to the river trip and floating markets. I confirmed, saying I would see him at ten. I knew he was getting a kickback from this and was totally ok with it.

The next day found us heading to the boat trip. I had slept in and was only able to grab a coffee and a quick bite before rushing down for ten so I asked Ping if he had eaten yet.

He said he had breakfast with the kids when he had sent them off to school, but could eat. So I suggested he pick a place on the way that he had frequented in the past and liked. This brought a look in the mirror and then a full turn around assessment. I continued saying “You pick, I buy, good for me good for you. It’s cultural; Okay?”  For those readers that remember we invited the cab driver up for lunch when we arrived in Anapa Russia. So Ping gave me another look and shrugged his shoulders and continued slipping through the morning Bangkok traffic without killing me. He turned down an alley and I could smell the river, past the other exotic and not so exotic scents. Passing a little cart with three folding camp style chair and tables Ping gestured with his head while swerving to avoid a cat with another in hot pursuit. He gave me a look in the mirror again and I said smells good. A smile crossed his face and we continued toward the river. We parked near the river cruise place and Ping suggested we get tickets first and offered to come with me on the cruise, to translate. I knew this was another way to get a little more out of me, but I liked him and thought he might come in handy, so I agreed. Ping ran off to put the Tuk Tuk in a better place for long storage and use his phone and a Guy walked over to take care of me. Absently I responded to him in Russian and he quickly disappeared, leaving me standing there. A couple where getting tickets and I watched them pay for a private boat on the long trip. It came out to 1800 baht, and they had not been delivered by Tuk Tuk as the guy was pointing out to the lady, while he walked by me to the dock, how it would have been more if they had taken a taxi and paid the kick back. Ping arrived and asked me what length of trip I wanted to do. I said the long trip and together we went to the desk to pay. Ping talked to the lady selling the tickets and confirmed, with me,  I was going to pay for him too and the total was 1500baht. There was a little more conversation between Ping and the sales lady while I paid and by the tone I could tell Ping was being firm. The lady was shaking her head yes as Ping and I left and walked up the alley toward the food cart.  I asked what was up and Ping said that she was trying to book us too early and we would be rushed for the temple and market because of the other bigger tour boats.

We arrived at the food stall and while I wouldn’t call it clean looking it was good smelling. Ping asked what I liked and I smiled and responded with “what do Russians eat for breakfast?” He got it immediately and laughed saying, “Yes yes you have no idea what this stuff is.”  I responded telling Ping I would have what he is having with a beer.  He told me to go sit.

After ordering for the two of us, he returned with a beer and two glasses, one full of ice. He took the ice glass and gave me the other and poured the beer commenting that the ice was tap water so no good for me. We made small talk till the lady delivered our food. It was rice with egg mixed in and then another cooked on top, with onion and other, spices beside chicken in a spicy sauce. When I say, spicy think of peanut sauce added to conceal liquid demon tears.

In Russia, they feed you Vodka to test you fortitude. This was a similar test with spice and I mixed it with my rice and added copious amounts of sugar to my beer when Ping was distracted to help quell the nuclear fission that was occurring behind by third bicuspid! I think I commented twice how spicy it was and Ping simply nodded his response as we both started sweating.

I seemed to pass the test and while I paid 190 baht for our meal Ping grabbed two water and another beer from the fridge and stuffed them into his backpack. “For the boat trip,” He said heading off down the alley gesturing in a Thai, palm down, for me to follow.  I did thinking to myself that a Tuk Tuk driver just bought me a beer.

The river trip was very interesting and after seeing the regular boats crammed with passengers I was happy I got a private boat. I’ve spent a great deal of time on boats so the rolling muddy river didn’t bother me, but I saw people in other boats feeding the fish with the expensive hotel breakfast they had eaten that morning. We saw the market, and the riverfront, temples near and far and Ping did his best to be tour guide in simple English and I could tell by how he said things he was very proud of the city.  It was a great day and I think Ping enjoyed himself as well. We ended the day back at the hotel and Ping said; “Thanks for the boat trip and seeing Bangkok Mr. Scott.”

The next hop was to Chiang Mai in the north of Thailand. I had made the decision that Bangkok was a little too much like Moscow but with Asian drivers and far too busy. I had made a connection with a guy in Chiang Mai on the internet and had decided to stay there for a week. So with money transferred via Paypal I boarded a Thai Airlines flight for the one-hour hop to the second largest city in Thailand.

Richard Katze was waiting for me when I got off the plane putting and end to my thoughts of being stranded in Chiang Mai without a place to stay. He took me to the studio apartment he owns and showed me around and made sure I was settled in. If you are looking for a guy in Chiang Mai, he is a good one to know and one you can trust.   The place was as advertised and perfect for a base to see if Chiang Mai was a city Inga and I could spend part of the year in.

The following day I grabbed a Tuk Tuk and agreed on a price to do a two hour just drive around tour of the city to get my bearings and a general feel for the place. During the trip, the sky opened up and a warm rain drenched everything and when it stopped the sweet florid smell of the jungle brought back memories of Africa and I knew I could make a home here.

The people are very friendly, Thai and Expat alike. English is widely spoken and if not the person is used to visitors and makes it work. I enjoyed the western style mall just up the street from the condo and the relaxed happy attitude of the entire city. I spent seven days walking various neighborhoods and looking at condos for rent and for sale. I ate in little roadside stands full of locals and in one or two fancier western focused places. It was all good to great food and very fresh and organic.

I knew Inga and I would be returning so I didn’t want to do any real touristy things without her, but I had heard of a place called Tiger Kingdom. Tiger Kingdom is a refuge and tourist attraction in one. It is set up to take care of, and allow tourists to closely interact with, tigers.  By close, I mean get inside the cage and pet these amazing creatures. The cats are not drugged or altered in any way.

They have all their teeth and claws and other than getting bathed a little more than tigers enjoy, are regular happy cats. Since the Nanny Nation of North America has made everything far too sterile and safe few people will ever get a chance to touch and feel these magnificent creatures. There is a real danger in doing this and one I thought about and weighed against the incredible opportunity. There are no handlers armed with guns or stun sticks. No easy way out of the cage once you are inside and other than being hand raised by humans these are wild animals.  So into the cages I went.

I reach for words a great deal in my struggles as a writer to tell you a good story. This time I will not try other than to say if you love wildlife and cats this is as close to a spiritual experience as you will ever have. The intelligence and understanding were evident in the eyes of these creatures and anyone who has lived with a housecat knows exactly what I mean.