Of Luxuries and Language

SATURDAY FTW.

I stayed up insanely late last night, because I was determined to finish this article for work before the end of the week (and decided that 5 am on Saturday constituted “before the end of the week” :)).  It’s not due until Thursday, but it’s pretty important (we’ve been asked by a pan-Asian newspaper based in Nepal to do a 2,000-word piece on what’s likely to happen to Burma’s rainforests when the country opens up to Western investment), and I wanted to have the rough draft done so that next week I can refine it/run it past people.

So, needless to say, after that, I slept like the dead (well, actually, I woke up at 10.30 in the morning to email the draft article to my colleague, then I slept like the dead!), and decided that, with the article done, I could kick back today.  So I drove down to the Ping River and explored the neighbourhood between the riverside Warrorot Market and the old city.  It was very relaxing.  That area of town feels more urban, in a way, than the old city itself:  the buildings are taller and more likely to be grey, nondescript concrete, but there are also some great hole-in-the-wall shops and cookhouses, and on a nice afternoon, most of the neighbourhood seems to sit out on the street (especially in front of the bike shops – it’s actually kind of cool to stop and watch a bunch of guys spread a disassembled motorcycle engine over half the sidewalk to tinker with it).  It feels very much like an area where people live and work, whereas the old city can sometimes seem like an artificial tourist paradise.

I poked around a small wat (Wat Ou Sai Khan, where the main shrine houses a jade Buddha; I was there too late in the day to see it, but I got some nice pictures of the temple and the murals) and got a bag of hot shrimp dumplings, covered in sweet and sour sauce, from the market.  I also stopped by one of the bars at the edge of the old city for a frozen margarita, and to read through one of my old guidebooks to see what else I want to see around the city (and what I’d like to show my guests in July!), then had dinner at a Mexican place called Loco Elvis, which I’d always wondered about.  (Good quesadillas, although my favourite place remains El Diablo, right across from it.)  I took a stroll through Backpacker’s Alley.  I discovered a Thai manga library, where you can rent a wide range of Japanese manga translated into Thai (and some Thai series, as well, I assume) – it’s a fantastic idea, given that most young Thais probably can’t afford to follow several series at a time (hell, many Western comic readers can only afford to follow a few series).  And at the end of the night, I walked back through Warrorot, which is packed with a young, mostly Thai crowd on Saturday nights, and stopped to buy ALL THE LYCHEE.  EVER.

Actually, that’s not even remotely true.  Yes, I have a giant shopping bag full of lychee, but that’s like a grain of sand next to the beach that was Warrorot Market.  It’s that time of year – they can barely give the stuff away.  And since mango season is ending, I figured I’d move onto a new Exotic Fruit To Make Myself Completely Sick On. :)

In one of the Lord Peter Wimsey novels, he tells the woman he’s in love with that he’s not going to kiss her when they jointly make a breakthrough in an investigation, because the first time they kiss shouldn’t be a footnote to something else; it should be unforgettable, “like when you taste lychee for the first time”.  That was me today.  Well, technically – I’ve had lychee-flavoured things, but I’d never actually had it fresh before.  The woman who sold me the lychee peeled me one to eat as she was weighing the rest (which is a common, nice little touch in fruit markets:  they’ll often give you a free taste of whatever’s in season or whatever they happen to be cutting up at the time, regardless of whether it’s what you’re buying or not).  I can see what Peter meant, actually.  Lychee’s not the strongest or most exotic taste (of course, the amount of imported fruit available in 1930s London was probably pretty limited), but it’s bright and sweet and kind of complex, so that you notice different flavours emerging as you eat it.  It’s one of those things, like jackfruit and durian, where I’m not likely to forget the first time I had it.  (Granted, in the case of durian, it was more like, “Dear God, I need to immediately forget ever eating this abomination, WHY DOES MY HOUSE SMELL LIKE IT,”, but you win some, you lose some. :))

But the best part of today:  I got a massage.  An hour-long head, back, and neck massage.  Oh, God.  It was about twice the price of a Thai (leg and hip) massage (apparently because it requires more advanced training, according to my friend who took a massage class here), but it was so, so worth it.  I went to a tiny place down the same street as the wat, and I’m not going to lie, I did pick it mostly because of the painfully adorable, big-eared grey kitten asleep on a bench outside. :)  The masseuse was an older woman with a sweet face, pretty strapping for a Thai, who basically spent an hour pounding my muscles into submission.  At one point, she bent my spine backwards until it cracked gloriously in about twelve places.  The whole thing felt very luxurious:  there was a facial massage with a hot towel, and the ceremonial cup of tea afterwards.  I gotta say, though, there was also a fair amount of hair-pulling involved.  And at one point, she just up and flicked me in the forehead.  Sometimes, I wonder whether masseuses do things because those things are therapeutic, or just because they can. :)

Seriously, though, I can recommend the hell out of getting a massage in Chiang Mai (or anywhere in Thailand, really).  Which brings me to something I’ve been meaning to post:

Catherine’s Dodgy Fell-Off-The-Back-Of-A-Van Thai Lessons #1:  Thai for Getting a Massage!

(Note:  At the end of all of these phrases, say “kha” if you’re a woman, or “khrap” if you’re a dude.)

Jep mai? – Does it hurt?

Jep. – Yes, it hurts.

Mai jep. – No, it doesn’t hurt.                     

Mai pen rai – no problem/okay

Bao bao noi. – Gently, please.

Chakatee! – That tickles!

Ron – hot (they’ll usually warn you this way before using a hot towel)

Dee – good

Dee maak maak – very good

Kop khun. – Thank you.

Now go forth and have people rub you!  Um… hang on, that came out wrong…