Too smart

Lately N has become argumentative and stubborn, preceding many words with 'ไม่' ('no') such as ไม่กิน, ไม่ชิม, ไม่นอน, ไม่อาบน้ำ, ไม่ไป..., testing her limits. Tonight she ran around for an hour after her usual bedtime, asking for more stories, playing with her Playmobile figures, and climbing on the sofa. After nagging and cajoling (and a bribe of animal crackers), she finally agrees to go to bed. (Sigh.) It's past 10pm. Tucked in, she looks at me and says (for the first): 'Love you.'

Paris

Back from four days in Paris. It was a lovely break from the chaos of home, and I reveled in the time that was mine to squander, a near-forgotten luxury. (When I wasn't pining for baby, that is.) On my first day, Bastille Day, I got in pretty early and took the RER train into the city. It was chilly and grey; by mid-day, the sun was out and temperatures dropped. Yet I was still cold (I have been in Thailand too long).

After dropping my bag off at the small hotel near the arch, I saw some of the military parade down the Champs Elysees, with fighter jets zooming overhead. Then went to the Egyptian and Roman galleries in the Louvre, and walked around in the Carrousel de Louvre. I was pretty tired by mid-afternoon so I headed back for a nap. The room was tiny and fairly clean, but the hotel's pet friendly policy had me eying each stain on the carpet. Nevertheless, I had a good snooze.

That evening, I noshed on delicious yogurt and banana (labeled from Martinique, kind of far for a banana, no?) from the convenience store nearby. Then walked to Parc Monceau. Sat by the carousel for awhile, watching parents load toddlers and kids on the wooden rides. I was missing Nisa, and sending messages back and forth with Mai. The days seem so long without her: good for short trips but not so great during moments like these.

The next morning, I set out early for a walk. It was drizzling but not as cold as the previous day. Ended up at Pont Neuf but decided against going to Saint Chapelle and Notre Dame. Guess I just wanted to refresh my memory about the area from previous Paris visits. I haven't been following the news and was a bit sad to see La Samaritaine boarded up (it closed in 2005) as I had a nice meal at its rooftop cafe. Then went back to the subway and got off at Concorde. Vaguely recall driving by the obelisk (in 1993 or so) and wanted to take another look. So...yes, it was still there, amid some construction, glowing as the blinding sunlight reflected off its shaft. Kind of uneventful.

Feeling sheepish, I walked into the Tuileries garden nearby. Thanks to one of the Apps Mai loaded onto my phone, I located the Musee de l'Orangerie, a cute little museum dedicated to huge paintings of Monet's water lilies. The galleries were filled with Chinese tourists but once they left, a welcome solitude, augmented by the murals and diffused lighting, descended. Other paintings on display were by modern masters: Picasso, Gauguin, Cezanne, Rousseau, Modigliani...and others whose names I've forgotten. Very enjoyable at a snail's pace, without the ever present din of the Louvre.

Walked towards Madeline next, browsing among the shops. Got Nisa a pair of (somewhat pricey) Camper shoes and Mai a (slightly cheaper) coffee pot. Also indulged in six La Duree macaroons, unabashedly snacking on one as I walked back to the metro. Then headed to Les Olympiades, the last stop on the purple line, seeking a proper meal in Chinatown. I probably didn't hit the main stretch because I didn't find any cluster of restaurants or stores with that 'Chinatown' vibe (neon restaurant signs, elderly Asians loaded with grocery bags, curio stores...). Hmm. Ended up at a 'Chinese' place run by very nice Cambodians. Despite the mediocre fare, it was good to be in a more mellow residential neighborhood with an interesting mix of people.

Then it was back to the hotel for a nap before meeting up with Jen and her brood, who were renting an apartment on the next block. My last two days consisted of hanging out with Jen and her family and attending the two kids' baptism as her daughter's godmother. The latter was held in a floating church (on a barge) in a suburb; on the drive back to Paris, with me wedged between two car seats, we rear-ended another car driven by Jen and Raf's nephew. The tuckered out babies woke upon impact with piercing screams, jangling every one's nerves. Luckily the crash wasn't too bad. We were still able to rush back to the apartment so I could gather my stuff and grab a taxi to the airport. After these activity-packed days, the 11-hour flight allowed for breathing room, time to pause before diving back into hectic home life.

July already...

Last blogged in Feb, and now the year's half over. Time is seriously zipping by, except when watching baby toss and turn, resisting sleep; or reading Green Eggs and Ham for the eighth time in a roll. I guess I should stop referring to baby as baby since she's a full fledged little person capable of many things: manipulation (ugh) and full-on expressions of love (awwwww).

Meant to fill out a baby log about all her milestones, but got too lazy. Plus there were so many, I lost track of when each and every tooth came in and the utterances of new words. As of today, at almost twenty months, she can string four words together, forming complete sentences (mostly in Thai); count up to ten in Thai and English; pick her own clothes; has 14 teeth; and is as willful as ever. Tooth-brushing is a chore, one of the day's most dreaded tasks. I have been bitten all too often - ouch! Potty training has commenced but has not progressed beyond sitting on the potty for more than a minute.

N likes television shows like In the Night Garden, Teletubbies, Sesame Street, and more recently, Thomas the Tank Engine and Barney. They are actually not as mind-numbing as I thought (or maybe I'm so brain dead, I don't notice). She's also into playing games on the iPad, expertly swiping her fingers on the screen, and can get extremely cranky when asked to stop. Thankfully, she is also into books, and we read every day, mostly in the car and before bed. Old favorites like Goodnight Moon and Hooper Humperdink, Not Him! have been retired, replaced with other Suess books and Where's the Green Sheep. She is starting to recognize colors and shapes, and can sing a bit, elongating words to a tune.

Regular outings consist of going to the aquarium and library. N's also a good traveler. We went to Singapore in May, and visited the zoo and botanic gardens. Not one fussy episode took place, but I had to carry her most of the time we were out and about.

Babyhood is such a fleeting moment; so brief, with momentous achievements and astronomical changes. Can understand why people have multiples, but for someone who used to hate babies, I am not entirely convinced I have to go through it again. Not in a hurry, anyway.

Library Day

Spent a good part of the day at the Neilson Hayes Library. Happily found that it was one of the most baby-friendly places: ample space to toddle, changing table in the bathroom, safe high chairs in the cafe, and well-kept garden. Oh, and no one minding an excited, outspoken baby who had never seen so many books (or large papier mache frogs and bears) before: "OOOOH! OOOOH! BHOP [กบ]! BHOP! MEE [หมี]! BHOP!"

Turning One

The year has zipped by. Baby turned one in November. An active tot, she spends almost every waking moment playing, learning, and discovering new things. In the process, she's running into walls, falling on her face, losing toenails, and sustaining other cringe-worthy injuries. But she's audacious; with nary a cry, she picks herself up and get on with her day (if only we were quite so fearless!).

Eight months

Baby is almost eight months old, and while the exhaustion of nursing a newborn is abating, new challenges constantly arise, especially as she gains mobility and a bit of an attitude. As for the latter, yelling is the new crying. Sporadic bursts, often in protest, are not unusual. Sorry, neighbors. Inadvertent payback for your loud music. :I

Bkk burns

Packed up a sleepy baby and headed to mom's to get away from central Bangkok, where piles of tires continue to burn, releasing plumes of black smoke and noxious fumes. We drove through dense clouds of smoke on the expressway from the smoldering debris below. Zero visibility. It was surreal and scary. Unsettling and sad. Something out of the movies. Replete with suspense - what next? How will it end?

Deadly days

Fighting continues for a fourth day, and some city streets resemble a war zone. Broken bottles, burned tires and other debris litter the ground. Coils of razor wire adorn sidewalks and makeshift barricades. Rain falls periodically, helping quell plumes of smoke billowing from tires set ablaze. Tension continues to run high. We are a city in distress, scared and saddened.

International media reports dwell on the "illegitimacy" of this government; even though not democratically elected, the government assumed power under vote of parliament as did the previous two administrations. Most informed citizens believe Abhisit is doing the best he can under the circumstances. The government's approach appears methodical. Throughout these two months of demonstrations, it became clear that their intention has never been to dispel the protesters with force, and certainly not to kill ordinary citizens as the red shirt leaders have lamented on numerous occasions.

It is easy for such leaders to rouse support from and hide behind the premise that "we are poor, powerless, and non-violent." True, the majority of their followers fall into the former two categories but the movement is much more complex than class warfare. It is not as simple as "elite vs peasant" or "rich vs poor." Whomever is backing the reds has no real regard for the welfare of the poor other than using them as a power base for their own self-serving motives and business interests. And they definitely have no qualms about spreading hate and using violence to achieve such means. In a system rife with greed and corruption, this was bound to happen sooner or later.

The government has to end this movement before society can move forward. As the death toll mounts and the city smolders, it is a very tough lesson to learn. We can't pretend things can ever be the same as before. Unfortunately, meaningful social change takes time. But at least it begins now: first in our attitudes and then in our actions.

Songkran

This year, another atypical Songkran: violent army-protester clashes followed by a queasy calm and some raucous celebrations on the part of the red shirts who continue to occupy Rajprasong. Anything goes, it seems. While the situation is potentially very frightening, it doesn't feel like we are in imminent danger. Planning our days around reds' impromptu marches and gatherings is becoming the norm.

Bangkokians' emotional states range from shoulder-shrugging imperviousness to nervousness, depression and indignation. Battered by the reds' browbeating tactics and irrational demands, the government continues its soft stance. The reluctance to further crack down on the crimson mob appears to be a combination of taking the moral high ground and not being entirely in control of the armed forces. The administration seems to hang on by a thread.

A multi-color group supporting the government has emerged. Anti-red (yellow) groups are mobilizing. Print media is rife with speculation about cracks in the military. As usual, the situation remains highly fluid; what happens next is any one's guess.

Five months old

Little miss N continues to grow and change at an amazing pace, including developing quite a character. She keeps everyone highly amused.

Among people she knows, she's loud: chatty and opinionated, and prone to giggling fits. She is really into certain toys and tends to play pretty rough, smashing rattles onto hard surfaces, tossing teethers aside, and flailing her arms. She also has a shy side and it takes her awhile to warm up to strangers.

She can play quietly by herself for longer stretches of time and managed to sleep through the night once. Yay! Baby's growing up. Next month: solid food, play group, and (hopefully) more sleep for all.

Hmmm

Holed up at home for the second day, wondering if anything will come of the latest demonstrations in Bangkok. Another D-Day, another ultimatum, another day of reckoning come and gone. So far, causing traffic snarls seems to be the worst outcome of the reds' "siege" of the city.

The government seems to have the upper hand in this stand-off, allowing the movement of demonstrators, holding off on declaring a state of emergency, and staying put. The red shirt leaders are getting frustrated and/or desperate, announcing antics such as collecting protesters' blood to hurl at Government House and other symbolic buildings. For real?

Milestones

A lot of exciting happenings in the past two weeks leading up to Nisa's 4-month b-day. First, she can sit up in the Bumbo without leaning too much to one side. She can hold her head upright while on her stomach. And finally, she can flip over and back!


She's taken to staring at people, assessing them. Her crazy hair continues to stick straight up.

She's in the 75th percentile, weight-wise, and has developed multiple folds everywhere. Fatty!

Don't touch me

Nisa has suddenly become sensitive to unfamiliar faces. She won't let anyone she doesn't recognize hold her. Actually, strangers can't even look at or greet her without her scrunching up her face in preparation for a scream. Hmmm... It's probably just a phase but I don't know whether to laugh or worry.

Babyhood

No longer a newborn. In three months, Nisa's transformation has been astounding. She eats a ton and has more than doubled her birth weight. Her character is emerging - she smiles, coos, giggles and yells. She loves to be in motion. The automatic swing saved our sanity during her fussy phase, and she kicks her legs while being held, telling you to get a move on. Sometimes she's really bossy.

She can hold a conversation, chatting away: goo, ahhh, ah-ga, beah! So far, my favorite Nisaism is MEH. Occasionally, she emits high pitch screams (*cringe*). She also laughs hysterically, overwhelming herself to the point of crying. I don't know what that means.

She listens quietly when we read Goodnight Moon and seems to appreciate my terrible singing (perhaps she's really polite). She is starting to drool and appears irritated with her bottom gum. She may be teething? Everything goes into her mouth now, especially her fingers. She hasn't figured out which one she likes best.

She's growing up fast. Too fast!

RIP, Zach

Zachary passed away yesterday evening from kidney failure. After not being able to walk for several days, he slipped into a coma on Saturday night. By then, I felt he was already gone. His eyes were vacant and glazed over. He barely moved yet his breath was steady, his mid-section rhythmically pulsed up and down. Just the day before, the vet declared him to be in non-critical condition based on his blood test results. Although he was immobile, he was alert, responding to our calls. At one point, a glimmer of his old self emerged as he vigorously rubbed his gums on the wall.

He took a turn for the worse that night and Mai took him back to the vet in the morning. He was given an IV drip and placed under a heat lamp. We decided to leave him at the vet’s for treatment. Mai went back at 6pm. He felt that Zach was somehow calling for him. When he got there, Zach’s condition had not improved and he’d had two seizures. He was still glassy-eyed but he twitched in response to Mai’s voice telling him everything was going to be ok. Mai then called me and asked what we should do. We decided to keep Zach there overnight. Not even a minute later, Mai called again, clearly distraught. Zach was gone, he said, adding, “He was waiting for me.”

Zach loved Mai best and it seemed fitting, more than a coincidence.

I was feeding the baby, trying to remain calm. But I lost it, tears welling up and nose dripping. I wiped my face on my sleeve. Nisa started screaming while I was still on the phone; when I hung up, I wished I could wail as loudly too, but instead shushed her quietly, pleading for her to stop.

Zach was in a black garbage bag when I picked him up at the vet this morning. The vet, a slight man in a surgical mask, seemed almost apologetic, explaining that he thought Zach was ok the other night. I nodded, thanked him and left, the antiseptic scent of the office contrasting drastically with the smells of exhaust, food, and human sweat on the street.

I headed to Wat Klong Toey Nai in the heart of the Klong Toey community, a densely settled area comprised of slums, a bustling market, a large port, warehouses and industrial complexes. The temple was located at the end of a narrow lane, next to a school, soft drink distribution center and Shell plant of some sort. Huge rounded oil storage facilities dominated the landscape.

At the temple, I was directed to the crematorium built specifically for animals. One of the two ovens was open, flames leaping within. Two characters, one fat and one thin, manned the operation. The thin one matter of factly asked what I had: a cat? Persian, right? Did I want a monk to chant the final rites? I said no to the latter and asked the fat one about the procedure. He gruffly directed me to dilapidated signage: 1,500 baht for the cost of maintaining the oven, the fuel and the gas. Larger animals over 20 kilos 2,000 baht. Pay the caretakers a gratuity if you wish, but we will not solicit a tip. If you encounter any extra charges, contact the abbot. Do you want a coffin for your dog or cat - Call Uncle Kai at XX-XXX-XXXX. For ashes spread in the sea, 300 baht for the boat fee.

I paid the fat guy 1,500 baht, thankful I had enough cash in my wallet. I looked at the gut bulging out of his shirt and his bulbous cauliflower nose while he wrote me a receipt, wishing I could give my cat a nicer farewell.

In the meantime, the thin guy took my bag. He opened it and placed Zach on a wooden board. This was the first time I had seen Zach’s stiff, lifeless body. He was a mass of ruffled fur. His face was scrunched up and his body was cold. I placed a paper flower on his back, patted his rump to somehow reassure him, and silently said goodbye. Bye, Zach. See you on the other side, my boy. The thin man closed the furnace door. I felt numb, like I was having an out of body experience, watching myself stand there. I looked up at the exhaust pipe, heat waves blurring the sky.

The thin man said I was early when I returned in an hour. The fat guy said to have a seat and get out of the sun. I went to sit in the shade and watched a monk chant prayers for a couple with a tan fluffy dog lying beside them. When the monk was done, the thin man took the dog and put him in the other oven. The fat caretaker asked if they wanted the ashes back. The man said no, please scatter the ashes in the water. He paid the extra fee and the couple left in a hurry.

While I waited, the monk lit up a cigarette. The thin man poured Zach’s ashes onto a tray and was tossing them, separating bone fragment from ash. Powder poofed out in a cloud each time the ashes settled back onto the tray and the man turned away so as not to inhale the dust. When he was done, he bagged the remaining pieces in a piece of muslin. He handed them to me in a green plastic bag and I held the warm ashes in my hands and got into the car, still feeling as if the whole experience was surreal.

I thought of Zach in his prime and wanted to cry so I put his remains beside me and distracted myself with the activity outside. Workers from the oil plant were eating lunch. I vaguely thought about making mushroom broth when I got home. I automatically steadied the bag as the car jarred, as if Zach was actually sitting beside me. Ashes leaked onto the seat and I brushed them off, wondering if that was an appropriate thing to do.

When I got home, I took Zach’s remains out of the plastic bag and put them in a paper box that previously held a wedding gift. The baby was asleep. I mechanically ate half a sandwich. I felt nothing until I started to write this entry, and the tears flow. Rest in peace, Zachary. Thank you for coming into our lives. We miss you tremendously.

Hiatus, explained

So much for resolving to be a better blogger in '09! The rest of the year flew by and now, we are a family of three. Caring for an infant is probably one of the most difficult tasks, especially trying to figure out the reason behind the fussing and increasingly urgent (and heart-rending) wails. There are, however, moments that make up for the exhaustion and chronic anxiety. This is one of them (our daughter at 6 weeks):

Troubled

Didn't have much of a Songkran this year, and mostly stayed home to avoid clashes between anti-government "red-shirt" protesters and army troops at different points in the city. Unlike before, the situation feels more dangerous. As we teeter on anarchy, both sides claim to be proponents and protectors of democracy.

After protests subsided, an ominous silence lingered, only to be disrupted by an assassination attempt on a prominent "yellow-shirt" leader. The state of emergency has yet to be lifted, and there are accusations of unknown third parties behind some of the violence. At this point, things are so fluid that no one knows what will happen next.

On the bright side, we ventured out for dinner one evening, and the adjacent soi was filled with new year revelers having a blast, splashing water everywhere. It was a breezy night, and locusts buzzed noisily in the trees. On the micro-level, life goes on...

Bang Kra Jao

On a whim, my friend J and I set off for Bang Kra Jao, a relatively undeveloped island not far from the city. There isn't much info on BKJ on the web and I only learned about it a couple years ago, when I spotted the vast green patch within the meandering Chao Phraya from atop a high-rise building.

All we knew was that, to get to this mysterious place, we had to take a boat ride from the municipal pier next to the huge Klong Toey port. When we walked down to the pier, a no-frills hunk of concrete, the only option was a long-tailed boat with a bored-looking operator. He agreed to take us to BKJ for 30 baht. Expecting a half-hour ride, J and I looked at each other quizzically when the boat arrived on the opposite shore about a minute later.

The boatman good naturedly confirmed that this was indeed BKJ (which is actually in Samut Prakarn province, an hour or so drive from the city) and we climbed on to a wooden pier, emerging into another world. We walked into the glaring sunlight down a paved road flanked with overgrown scrub constantly rustling from alighting birds and scurrying stray dogs. Being true urbanites, we delighted (a bit embarrassingly) in the bird calls, expanses of greenery, and huge trees that provided much needed shade.

We soon wandered onto a raised concrete path that snaked through the dank "jungle." Here, the trees provided almost complete shade and the still, shallow waters below were filled with small fish and amphibians. The path took us past the front door of small homes; a wood and corrugated metal shack that sold drinks, cigarettes, and other sundries; and a public park bustling with weekend activity.

We then decided to catch motorcycle taxis to the market. The 6-kilometer ride into the more inhabited parts of the island was great fun, with breezes constantly whipping my hair in every direction. The market boasted lots of friendly vendors with local fruits and vegetables that we never see in Bangkok. We bought some of this produce and snacked on glutenous indian corn, and then caught a song taew back to the pier.

BKJ was a refreshing change from the concrete, pollution, and aggressive people prevalent on the other side of the river. Its highlight was, without a doubt, almost instant immersion into a gentler, more carefree life commonly associated with the more rural provinces.

Sabai Sabai

Been feeling a bit boxed in lately so last Saturday, we got into the car and headed east towards the coast of the Gulf of Thailand (after circling around in the city, trying to find the entrance to the Motorway; my fault mostly- I am a terrible navigator).

The roads were surprisingly good, which says a lot about how often we embark on road trips (never!). From the Motorway, we got onto Highway 344 (Ban Bung-Klang) towards Chantaburi. After 2 hours, we opted for Rayong at the split, ending up on a pretty stretch of road flanked by rubber plantations, palms, and ubiquitous stalls selling local specialties like coconuts, sweet snacks, and roasted chicken.

The town was pretty mellow. Its extensive concrete boardwalk was lined with umbrellas, deck chairs, and makeshift seafood restaurants, but there was hardly anyone about. As the sun set, we walked on the main stretch of beach, watching families playing football, flying kites, and wading into the placid surf. Very sabai sabai. (Aptly, we stayed at a low key little place called Baan Sabai Sabai.)

The beach wasn't bad - Mai thought it was nicer than Cha-Am or Huahin - but there was a lot of trash, including light bulbs, toothbrushes, and plastic ribbons from garlands, strewed on the sand. It's easy to see why people pass through Rayong simply to catch the ferry to Ko Samet, but it's a shame the municipality isn't cleaning up public areas on the mainland.

As it got dark, a couple of the beachside eateries began blaring folk songs, often featuring the incessant tinkling of the onomatopoetic 'ching chap' cymbals. After dinner by the water, we changed our minds about visiting the nearby market and called it a night.

The next morning, we stopped in Pattaya for lunch and then hit the clothing outlet before driving home. Next time we'll take the other prong of Highway 344: Chantaburi.

'09 Resolutions

January wasn't a particularly good month. Got wrapped up in work, bills, vague worries about the future... Felt like I largely operated on auto-pilot, feeling tired without doing anything. And now the month is almost over.

Anyway. As it's lunar new year, I guess it's not too late to think about resolutions for '09. Three things on the to-do list (which sounds a lot like last year's): practice more yoga, learn meditation (stay in the present!), and travel to more places in Thailand, including the northeast. We'll also plan to go up to CM, including a drive up Doi Suthep, past the temple, to source delicious locally grown and roasted coffee. Also wouldn't mind heading back to Trang and its neighboring provinces.