So, I'm planning on being in South Africa (hereafter, SA) for six weeks! Six weeks?! What for, one might ask?
Well...the short version is I am going to do some research and explore a fascinating country.
The long version is that I've wanted to do some international research/scholarship for some time; however, I am an Americanist, a historian of the USA, so how do I pull off international time while studying/teaching the USA? The short version for that is comparative history.
The long version is that I have had an interest in SA for a long time--if you're interested in social justice, social movements, making the world a better place, revolution, then SA is an obvious locale.
Of course, spending the first half of 2007 in Tanzania was a real catalyst. Before going to Tanzania, I already was planning a short trip to SA, in March 2007, which turns out to be an awesome time of year (climate-wise) to be there. I spent five days in the Cape Town area and another five in Johannesburg/Pretoria and had a great time. I did some exploring and made a few great connections with some academic-sorts.
After that trip, I started emailing w/ a SA labor historian who, for the past year, I've been collaborating w/ on an article. We're about to submit that article to a journal, in fact. Then, I planned--and this Spring pulled off--teaching a graduate (M.A.) research seminar on comparative US-SA history.
All the while, I was scheming for this upcoming trip. I was awarded one of the two WIU grants that I applied for, which almost pays for my airfare. I have some friends in Jozi and Pretoria and have been sending scads of emails to folks, introducing myself and asking questions.
For now, here's the research plan: a comparative history of dock workers in Oakland, California and Durban, KwaZulu Natal and issues of unionism, politics, and race relations in these two important, diverse port cities.
So, I arrive in Jozi on Sat night, 20 June, giddyup! I will attend a big southern Africa history conference straight away and another conference after that. I'm excited to continue expanding my knowledge of SA history and culture. Then I'll start doing research at some universities in Jozi and the National Archives in Pretoria. Then, after maybe a few weeks, I'll mosey to Durban, on the Indian Ocean (and supposedly perfect weather in July), for a spell.
Of course, in there, I imagine some good times and making some new friends. SA music is legendary and I'll check some out. Then there's the World Cup next year, for which happening right now there's a preview of sorts, the Confederation Cup. I hope to attend a match, perhaps in Soweto...really, the only thing for certain is that I've got a ticket and 6-week window.
See ya at the end of July or email me or we can skype it!
Peter
Umbrella Workers
can you say union?
17 June 2009
06 April 2008
The Good, the Bad, and the Fugly
So I've been in Bangkok for less than 24 hours, which is more than enough time for me (a person who teaches urban history AND is highly opinionated) to start formulating deep thoughts about this capital city.
Bangkok has a good heart and a lot of soul. The streets are vibrant, food is everywhere, and it feels incredibly safe given the huge size and large number of people. In particular, when I got off the main streets and onto the lanes and alleys (soi), I found the city to be both clean and fascinating. It's an old if not ancient city, so has all the character that comes with a bit of age. You turn one corner and there's a huge wat (temple). You turn another corner and are by a lovely canal. You walk down another and hear the chatter of people going about their bizness. Bangkok has been called the Venice of Asia because of the river that runs through it along with the many canals that intersect the city. Kudos to BKK.
Bangkok has terrible traffic, too many people and gas-powered vehicles, and has awful air pollution. All known in advance but, still, a walk down a main drag is like sucking on a tailpipe. I saw four dudes riding bicycles in a line a few hours back and had to wonder if they are healthier or less healthy for cycling in this city.
The main backpacker streets are god-awful. Down south, one dude asked me if I was going to stay in the Khao San area when I got to BKK. I already had decided I wouldn't and cannot tell y'all how happy I made that decision! Imagine several thousand white folks congregating around a gazillion shops and vendors and stores catering to their basic and not-so-basic food and consumer desires. Turning the corner onto Khao San is like dropping out of Thailand and into EuroDisney (tm). I am stunned that folks hang out there. One walk down that strip was all I needed; a second tour and I might end up with a temporary tattoo! I'm staying just a few km away but it might as well be another country. Or Thailand!
Bangkok has a good heart and a lot of soul. The streets are vibrant, food is everywhere, and it feels incredibly safe given the huge size and large number of people. In particular, when I got off the main streets and onto the lanes and alleys (soi), I found the city to be both clean and fascinating. It's an old if not ancient city, so has all the character that comes with a bit of age. You turn one corner and there's a huge wat (temple). You turn another corner and are by a lovely canal. You walk down another and hear the chatter of people going about their bizness. Bangkok has been called the Venice of Asia because of the river that runs through it along with the many canals that intersect the city. Kudos to BKK.
Bangkok has terrible traffic, too many people and gas-powered vehicles, and has awful air pollution. All known in advance but, still, a walk down a main drag is like sucking on a tailpipe. I saw four dudes riding bicycles in a line a few hours back and had to wonder if they are healthier or less healthy for cycling in this city.
The main backpacker streets are god-awful. Down south, one dude asked me if I was going to stay in the Khao San area when I got to BKK. I already had decided I wouldn't and cannot tell y'all how happy I made that decision! Imagine several thousand white folks congregating around a gazillion shops and vendors and stores catering to their basic and not-so-basic food and consumer desires. Turning the corner onto Khao San is like dropping out of Thailand and into EuroDisney (tm). I am stunned that folks hang out there. One walk down that strip was all I needed; a second tour and I might end up with a temporary tattoo! I'm staying just a few km away but it might as well be another country. Or Thailand!
05 April 2008
Close Call
So, I've traveled via long-distance bus many times and in many countries (Tanzania, Bolivia, Mexico...) , including at night. But a few hours ago I just had my narrowest escape from potential ugliness. Here's how.
A few days back, I finally got my arse out of Hat Ton Sai and over to Ao Nang to figure out how I'd travel back to Bangkok (BKK). Alas, because there is the Songkran Festival (Thai new year, aka the water festival) approaching, lots of Thai peeps are traveling, so all the good flights were booked. Being the cheap bastard that I sometimes am, I decided to pay 85% less and take an overnight bus. I also figured I'd get to see more scenery in the three or four hours before night fell.
So yesterday afternoon I schlepped in the heat by long-tail boat over to Ao Nang, got a bus over to Krabi bus depot, waited around, and got aboard the "VIP" 40-seat, double-decker bus to BKK, along with 39 other travelers. Among the crew were all of three Asians, whom naturally I gravitated and sat next to. They were Filipinos in Thailand for all of five days. Real nice crew. I even smoked menthol cigarettes with them during out two rest stops.
Anyway, about 4:30 in the morning, while in a confused, non-relaxed state somewhere between sleep and non-sleep, suddenly the bus lurched sharply, first in one direction and then the other! Then the bus hit something (I believe a curb) and turned sharply to the left. Soon, we ended up a wee bit into a ditch on the left-hand side of the four-lane road! Everyone, myself included, was *totally fine*.
While I never got the story--nor will I ever, most likely--it seems that the bus driver was driving too fast and came upon a nasty accident that had backed up traffic, and in a bit of a misty rain to boot. Hence, my driver might have had to brake too quickly to avoid some cars that had slowed down due to the bottleneck caused by the accident, possibly worsened by slippery roads. The accident looked bad, one big bus in the median ditch and another bus flipped over on its side! The buses were facing opposite directions. Perhaps that accident had happened much sooner because there were not many bystanders, no wounded people, medics, bags strewn about, etc.
So, then we wait. No one tells us anything. The driver gets out, gets in, gets out. The a/c goes on and off, when the driver occasionally turns the engine on and then off again. It gets really hot and stuffy. I'm thirsty but my water bottle disappeared somewhere in the swerving. It's totally unclear why we don't just leave. A tow-truck comes and pulls us a wee bit. We park. Driver and other bus workers get in and out. Then, after more than 90 minutes of waiting, wondering, and sweating, we pull away. That's it. No explanations.
Turns out, we were pretty close to BKK by then. Soon, we've stopped at what seemed like an ordinary side-street and we're getting out, taxi drivers were swarming us, the bags were being tossed out of the storage bins, and I'm gone. I had intended to complain, inquire about what the f*ck had happened, and all that but didn't get the chance.
There it is. As oft is the case, brushes with death (not to sound melodramatic) are utterly random and inexpcliable.
A few days back, I finally got my arse out of Hat Ton Sai and over to Ao Nang to figure out how I'd travel back to Bangkok (BKK). Alas, because there is the Songkran Festival (Thai new year, aka the water festival) approaching, lots of Thai peeps are traveling, so all the good flights were booked. Being the cheap bastard that I sometimes am, I decided to pay 85% less and take an overnight bus. I also figured I'd get to see more scenery in the three or four hours before night fell.
So yesterday afternoon I schlepped in the heat by long-tail boat over to Ao Nang, got a bus over to Krabi bus depot, waited around, and got aboard the "VIP" 40-seat, double-decker bus to BKK, along with 39 other travelers. Among the crew were all of three Asians, whom naturally I gravitated and sat next to. They were Filipinos in Thailand for all of five days. Real nice crew. I even smoked menthol cigarettes with them during out two rest stops.
Anyway, about 4:30 in the morning, while in a confused, non-relaxed state somewhere between sleep and non-sleep, suddenly the bus lurched sharply, first in one direction and then the other! Then the bus hit something (I believe a curb) and turned sharply to the left. Soon, we ended up a wee bit into a ditch on the left-hand side of the four-lane road! Everyone, myself included, was *totally fine*.
While I never got the story--nor will I ever, most likely--it seems that the bus driver was driving too fast and came upon a nasty accident that had backed up traffic, and in a bit of a misty rain to boot. Hence, my driver might have had to brake too quickly to avoid some cars that had slowed down due to the bottleneck caused by the accident, possibly worsened by slippery roads. The accident looked bad, one big bus in the median ditch and another bus flipped over on its side! The buses were facing opposite directions. Perhaps that accident had happened much sooner because there were not many bystanders, no wounded people, medics, bags strewn about, etc.
So, then we wait. No one tells us anything. The driver gets out, gets in, gets out. The a/c goes on and off, when the driver occasionally turns the engine on and then off again. It gets really hot and stuffy. I'm thirsty but my water bottle disappeared somewhere in the swerving. It's totally unclear why we don't just leave. A tow-truck comes and pulls us a wee bit. We park. Driver and other bus workers get in and out. Then, after more than 90 minutes of waiting, wondering, and sweating, we pull away. That's it. No explanations.
Turns out, we were pretty close to BKK by then. Soon, we've stopped at what seemed like an ordinary side-street and we're getting out, taxi drivers were swarming us, the bags were being tossed out of the storage bins, and I'm gone. I had intended to complain, inquire about what the f*ck had happened, and all that but didn't get the chance.
There it is. As oft is the case, brushes with death (not to sound melodramatic) are utterly random and inexpcliable.
Rite of Passage
One fascinating aspect of Thai Buddhist culture is that all males are expected to serve as a monk at least once in their lives--even the King, whose picture in a monk's robes with sunglasses on is super cool (pronounce with French accent). For some people, that means they'll sign up for the monkhood for a week while for others it might be a year or two. It seems to be entirely up to the individual. Even the dudes at my favorite bar in Hat Ton Sai all had served as monks before ending up servicing the beer- and weed-happy traveler set in southern Thailand.
While in Chiang Mai in late March, my friend Chanman discovered that there was going to be a mass ordination of boys into the monkhood and strongly suggested that I come with him to observe the ceremony. Though tired from a month of nonstop traveling in northern Thailand, I knew I couldn't refuse.
The ride with Chanman to the temple was half the fun, as I discovered a lot more about his personal relationship with Buddhism. After he graduated from university, maybe thirty years ago, he became a monk, figuring that he would do it for a few weeks. However, he ended up serving as a monk for about three years! When I asked him why, he explained that he was "searching for truth." I know that feeling, brother.
Chanman also told me that one year of his monkhood he made a pilgrimage to India, traveling the entire country north to south! I asked how he could afford it and he explained that Indians greatly respect religious pilgrimages; thus, even though most Indians are Hindi, a Thai Buddhist was able to stay for free in many places. Too cool. When I think of wealthy Westerners backpacking across the planet and compare them--us--to Chanman's approach (robes, bowl, sandals; no money, no internet, no iPod, no digital camera) I'm blown away.
So, we eventually slogged through Chiang Mai traffic and cruised into the Old City, which is surrounded by a moat and some ye olde brick walls. We proceeded to Wat Chedi Luang (Big Chedi Temple), making it in time for most of the fun. There were more than one hundred boys, mostly around 12 I'd guess, wearing the white robes of the novice and with shiny, newly-shaven heads. Apparently, many parents ship their sons off to be a monk during the kids' break from school; sorta like sleepaway camp but for Thai Buddhists.
The novices were lined up in rows facing their parents, who were beaming with pride and holding the orange robes that monks wear. While many other Thai people, family members I presumed, looked on their cameras a'blazin', a monk said some things in Thai, the parents handed over the orange robes, and then the boys filed into a nearby open-air structure to listen to a lecture on Buddhism from a monk. It was quite awesome.
While in Chiang Mai in late March, my friend Chanman discovered that there was going to be a mass ordination of boys into the monkhood and strongly suggested that I come with him to observe the ceremony. Though tired from a month of nonstop traveling in northern Thailand, I knew I couldn't refuse.
The ride with Chanman to the temple was half the fun, as I discovered a lot more about his personal relationship with Buddhism. After he graduated from university, maybe thirty years ago, he became a monk, figuring that he would do it for a few weeks. However, he ended up serving as a monk for about three years! When I asked him why, he explained that he was "searching for truth." I know that feeling, brother.
Chanman also told me that one year of his monkhood he made a pilgrimage to India, traveling the entire country north to south! I asked how he could afford it and he explained that Indians greatly respect religious pilgrimages; thus, even though most Indians are Hindi, a Thai Buddhist was able to stay for free in many places. Too cool. When I think of wealthy Westerners backpacking across the planet and compare them--us--to Chanman's approach (robes, bowl, sandals; no money, no internet, no iPod, no digital camera) I'm blown away.
So, we eventually slogged through Chiang Mai traffic and cruised into the Old City, which is surrounded by a moat and some ye olde brick walls. We proceeded to Wat Chedi Luang (Big Chedi Temple), making it in time for most of the fun. There were more than one hundred boys, mostly around 12 I'd guess, wearing the white robes of the novice and with shiny, newly-shaven heads. Apparently, many parents ship their sons off to be a monk during the kids' break from school; sorta like sleepaway camp but for Thai Buddhists.
The novices were lined up in rows facing their parents, who were beaming with pride and holding the orange robes that monks wear. While many other Thai people, family members I presumed, looked on their cameras a'blazin', a monk said some things in Thai, the parents handed over the orange robes, and then the boys filed into a nearby open-air structure to listen to a lecture on Buddhism from a monk. It was quite awesome.
04 April 2008
Bathroom companions
So one of the more interesting trends I've experienced is the uninvited guests in my bathrooms.
First, when in northern Thailand outside of Chiang Rai, we were staying in some very nice bungalows. When I arrived, I did what comes naturally to me: I went to the head. And when I lifted up the seat OUT jumped a frog. Not on me but I was startled to say the least.
A week or so later, I was staying in a bungalow at a high school, not so nice. Well, after wading my way through the ants and the roach in the bedroom, I went to the bathroom. While about to take a piss, I looked to my left and noticed...whoa! A scorpion on the wall, maybe half a foot from me. It seemed to be mellow so I finished the job, took some pics with my camera, and then showed it to my neighbor. While I was contemplating how to remove it from my pad without hurting it, my colleague does what comes naturally to many Americans: attack! He killed the scorpion right quick with a drop kick and was proud of himself to boot.
Most recently, I was in my bungalow in Hat Ton Sai in southern Thailand. I went in yesterday and there was a large snail moseying up the cinder-block wall next to the stool. Whatever. The weird thing was that, less than an hour later, when I went back in it was gone! Now snails don't move very fast (duh) and there was no obvious path that it had taken. Hence, I decided it's oft better to have a roomie and see 'em than have a roomie and wonder where in the room it has snuck off to.
I wonder what I'll find in there this eve...
First, when in northern Thailand outside of Chiang Rai, we were staying in some very nice bungalows. When I arrived, I did what comes naturally to me: I went to the head. And when I lifted up the seat OUT jumped a frog. Not on me but I was startled to say the least.
A week or so later, I was staying in a bungalow at a high school, not so nice. Well, after wading my way through the ants and the roach in the bedroom, I went to the bathroom. While about to take a piss, I looked to my left and noticed...whoa! A scorpion on the wall, maybe half a foot from me. It seemed to be mellow so I finished the job, took some pics with my camera, and then showed it to my neighbor. While I was contemplating how to remove it from my pad without hurting it, my colleague does what comes naturally to many Americans: attack! He killed the scorpion right quick with a drop kick and was proud of himself to boot.
Most recently, I was in my bungalow in Hat Ton Sai in southern Thailand. I went in yesterday and there was a large snail moseying up the cinder-block wall next to the stool. Whatever. The weird thing was that, less than an hour later, when I went back in it was gone! Now snails don't move very fast (duh) and there was no obvious path that it had taken. Hence, I decided it's oft better to have a roomie and see 'em than have a roomie and wonder where in the room it has snuck off to.
I wonder what I'll find in there this eve...
Paradise Found
Ok, I'm blogging outta order again (faux pas!) but I'm here in one of the world's beautiful places and want to share the love. Hat Ton Sai is a beach on the Railay peninsula in Krabi province in southern Thailand, right along the Andaman Sea. Ton Sai nestles inside a cove lined with limestone karst cliffs rising hundreds of feet, thereby cutting off it from other places; thus, the only way (pretty much) in or out of Ton Sai is by the ubiquitous long-tail boat. How cool to have to travel by little canoes with truck engines powering the rig!
It gets cooler. All of the development in this cove fits in pretty darned well with the scenery. Think tropics: palm trees, banana trees, sand, wooden bungaloes, hammocks, more sand, monkeys, locusts, and some sand. There are about two four-wheeled vehicles and a whole lotta foot traffic. While folks have a good time here, no doubt, it's quiet, which is real nice.
Many folks come here for the world-renowned limestone crags. That is, there is a TON of climbing to be done in these parts, a good deal of it at levels harder than I'm able to pull but that's my problem, eh? I did manage to meet up with a few other climbers and do the deed on a few days.
Other folks come here for the diving. While not around the corner, I was able to hop on a boat and cruise over to Ko Phi Phi for a few dives. Stunning underwater scenery, an incredible array of corals and fishes. Though nervous on my first dive in five years, I relaxed halfway through and the second dive was stellar. Just wish I could've done more...
And, finally, lots come to just to hang out because Ton Sai is so friggin' chill. People are mostly cool, many are long-term travelers but others are just on shorter holidays. Lots of climbers and divers doing what they love to do, so most folks are pretty happy just being here.
Nearby, I have read, some flick called The Beach was filmed. I'm not sure about that but if there is an earthly paradise, it just might be in southern Thailand. Unless we love it to death because tourism is rising faster than the tide outside the internet cafe/dive shop here on the beach, where the waves compete with the music and the crickets for my ears' attention.
It gets cooler. All of the development in this cove fits in pretty darned well with the scenery. Think tropics: palm trees, banana trees, sand, wooden bungaloes, hammocks, more sand, monkeys, locusts, and some sand. There are about two four-wheeled vehicles and a whole lotta foot traffic. While folks have a good time here, no doubt, it's quiet, which is real nice.
Many folks come here for the world-renowned limestone crags. That is, there is a TON of climbing to be done in these parts, a good deal of it at levels harder than I'm able to pull but that's my problem, eh? I did manage to meet up with a few other climbers and do the deed on a few days.
Other folks come here for the diving. While not around the corner, I was able to hop on a boat and cruise over to Ko Phi Phi for a few dives. Stunning underwater scenery, an incredible array of corals and fishes. Though nervous on my first dive in five years, I relaxed halfway through and the second dive was stellar. Just wish I could've done more...
And, finally, lots come to just to hang out because Ton Sai is so friggin' chill. People are mostly cool, many are long-term travelers but others are just on shorter holidays. Lots of climbers and divers doing what they love to do, so most folks are pretty happy just being here.
Nearby, I have read, some flick called The Beach was filmed. I'm not sure about that but if there is an earthly paradise, it just might be in southern Thailand. Unless we love it to death because tourism is rising faster than the tide outside the internet cafe/dive shop here on the beach, where the waves compete with the music and the crickets for my ears' attention.
25 March 2008
My best Thai massage (yet)
So here were are in Fang (fahng) about three hours north of Chiang Mai, as the car drives along a windy road, and I just had a killer massage. I've had four in my four weeks, so feel vaguely qualified to say what's good and what ain't. This was goooood.
As usual, we were lined up, five of us, with the massage therapists (always women) taking care of us, chatting, with music playing, cell phone going off--massage isn't treated with New Age music and candles here. To my left was my team leader, who was nervous to say the least, having had an "uncomfortable" experience during his first Thai massage, his first massage ever. Me, I was thrilled to be on the mat.
My therapist was strong! And I had asked, through one of our Thai Rotary guides, to ask her to work me hard, which she did. This woman found ALL my trouble spots: ankles, IT band, upper back, left shoulder, just beneath my right shoulder blade...and my hamstrings!
Gosh are they tight! I'd like to think it's from all the running, biking, exercise I do but maybe I'm just tight, despite years of yoga. This lady worked my hams like they've never been worked before, yes siree. She dug her knees into them five different times from five different directions. I just kept reminding myself to breathe through it. Whoa Nelly, I almost cried but didn't.
To top it off, she broke out some hot towels infused with a variety of herbs and spices (ginger? menthol? eucalyptus? cumin?!!) which had a hard sponge at the end and she dabbed me all over with a series of these hot, very hot, towel sponges. After my initial shock, never having experienced such a thing, I dug it. Oddly, it colored my skin yellow; I looked like I had jaundice.
The massages were performed at a national park, which preserves a series of hot, steaming springs amidst some Ye Old Faithful geysers, rock gardens, and grass. After our massages, the three farang among us were escorted to little bungalows that had been drawn with mineral bath-hot spring water. Friggin' hot!!! It took me about 20 mintues to get my entire body in but oo-ooh good.
Finished off the day with more home -cooked Indian food. To my delight, there is another Sikh Rotarian couple in this small city. The kind Sikh lady cooked me (and others) daal, saag (spinach), aloo (potatoes), and chapatti along with the first basmati rice I've had in Thailand. Giddy up! Back to Chiang Mai tomorrow.
As usual, we were lined up, five of us, with the massage therapists (always women) taking care of us, chatting, with music playing, cell phone going off--massage isn't treated with New Age music and candles here. To my left was my team leader, who was nervous to say the least, having had an "uncomfortable" experience during his first Thai massage, his first massage ever. Me, I was thrilled to be on the mat.
My therapist was strong! And I had asked, through one of our Thai Rotary guides, to ask her to work me hard, which she did. This woman found ALL my trouble spots: ankles, IT band, upper back, left shoulder, just beneath my right shoulder blade...and my hamstrings!
Gosh are they tight! I'd like to think it's from all the running, biking, exercise I do but maybe I'm just tight, despite years of yoga. This lady worked my hams like they've never been worked before, yes siree. She dug her knees into them five different times from five different directions. I just kept reminding myself to breathe through it. Whoa Nelly, I almost cried but didn't.
To top it off, she broke out some hot towels infused with a variety of herbs and spices (ginger? menthol? eucalyptus? cumin?!!) which had a hard sponge at the end and she dabbed me all over with a series of these hot, very hot, towel sponges. After my initial shock, never having experienced such a thing, I dug it. Oddly, it colored my skin yellow; I looked like I had jaundice.
The massages were performed at a national park, which preserves a series of hot, steaming springs amidst some Ye Old Faithful geysers, rock gardens, and grass. After our massages, the three farang among us were escorted to little bungalows that had been drawn with mineral bath-hot spring water. Friggin' hot!!! It took me about 20 mintues to get my entire body in but oo-ooh good.
Finished off the day with more home -cooked Indian food. To my delight, there is another Sikh Rotarian couple in this small city. The kind Sikh lady cooked me (and others) daal, saag (spinach), aloo (potatoes), and chapatti along with the first basmati rice I've had in Thailand. Giddy up! Back to Chiang Mai tomorrow.
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