Bite You Back!

On a Monday in December I was bitten by a centipede.

Coming from the States, you tend to picture these creatures as benign, sub-rock dwelling critters like salamanders, not the ferocious, thick-bodied nightmares that Thais use to spice their whiskey and whose bites can kill cats. Over breakfast of rice soup with squid, the bastard dropped on my leg from underneath the table, scooted up my bathing suit, and waited patiently for me to notice.

When the Thais saw me yelping, they rushed over, saw the insect dashing from my leg into the brush, and freaked out. I'd seen centipedes only once before, in Australia, where a bush guide had warned they were poisonous--could kill infants, in fact. Watching three guys rush screaming into shrubs after the beast did little to calm me. Though they failed to find the centipede, they did uncover a poisonous black snake, which they beat to death with bamboo sticks.

If you've never been been bitten by a centipede, I'll tell you what it's like: first a sharp sting sets in, the area turns red and swells, burning like a match head. Your loved one asks you to describe the pain on a scale of 1 to 10, and then you become an island celebrity: other tourists drop by to wonder why everyone else is staring at you; someone remembers someone else who got bitten by a spider some years ago, or the time they saw a snake in their bungalow, or a deer they saw on the hill. You struggle to pronounce the Thai word of the animal that got you: mak ue?
No, that's banana. Tak auw.
Tak ow?
No. Tak auwww.

And on and on. Days later, people you'd never seen before are still asking about the leg. The attention starts to wear like the residual pain of the bite, two red puncture wounds that fade day by day, your war story sounding less impressive every time you tell it.

-Mark

Mark and Juliah

Mark and Juliah in Big Tiger

With one spare day in Bangkok, we woke early to visit foreign inmates at Bangkwang Men's Prison, at the far edge of the city, last stop on the Bangkok commuter ferry. We'd heard conditions at the jail were awful, and the guys there, most of them incarcerated on drug charges, appreciated any kind of visitors and the gifts they might bring. It wasn't out of sense of charity that we went, but a drive to get away from the tour buses and banana pancakes, to do something a little off the beaten path in the city that had become the beaten path, plus a burning curiosity for a glimpse of life in a foreign prison.
The jail was surprisingly easy to find, guards shockingly friendly and obliging, and everything appeared much nicer than I'd expected. The man we'd intended to see, Jody Aggett, had been freed several months prior, and Julie and I were at a bit of a loss. "He go home,"the guard said, but gave us the name of another inmate he recommended we meet. Though we were the only foreigner present, besides a pair of Indian and Sri Lankan missionaries, the prison staff seemed used to dealing with visiting tourists.
Michael Connel had been caught at 19 trying to smuggle ecstacy into Bangkok Airport. He'd been acting independently,thinking he could turn a neat profit off the only drug not available in the Golden Triangle. His Thai lawyer told him not to worry: "'Given your age, and the fact that it was your first offense, I think I can get you off with 30 years,'" Michael related to me. The judge gave him life, with the contingency of a death sentence, should it be recommended by a higher court. I don't support foreigners trafficking drugs abroad, as it cuts into local business, but I can certainly see the screwed up logic of a 19 year-old trying to make some money on his vacation.
"But I'll be out of here in another 6 years," he said. Britain's working on a treaty for prisoner transfers with Thailand. America has a similar one, that allows US nationals to be charged and tried in Bangkok, but to serve their sentences at jails back home. "Once I'm there, I'll probably serve another 6 years, and be paroled." Michael had already served 7 years. He'd had his hair shaved short and looked in good health, wearing his own clothes--an adidas jumpsuit and baseball cap--rather than the standard orange jumpsuit, a privelige for good behavior. His manner was kind, courteous, relaxed, and altogether charming. When I lifted the gift sack of fruits, cookies, chocolates, and toiletries to the viewing window for him to see, he thanked us graciously.
"I'm sorry," I said, "we weren't sure what exactly you needed in there. I hope these things will be useful."
"Have you got any freedom in the bag?" he laughed. "Did you happen to bring any of that with you?"
I had no idea how to respond that.
"To tell you the truth, I'd rather serve out my sentence here than back home. Here, the guards are easy going and will leave you alone, so long as you don't cause trouble. I've got a job with the medical dispensary, and that keeps me busy. If you look around here, you'll see most of the guards sleep half the day. I imagine the British jails will be a lot rougher, full of gangs, with fights breaking out."
I told him I was confused; up til then, I'd been informed of Thai prisons only from reading The Damage Done by Warren Fellows, a memoir of eating rats to survive, of keeping one's head down to avoid sadistic guards.
"What you have to keep in mind is that that book was written 20 years ago,"Michael said. "It's nowhere near as bad as it was then."

Michael is a genuinely nice person. He made a serious mistake at age 19 and certainly deserved to be banned from Thailand, but it's very difficult to see the justice in any teenager being detained for 30 years to life, with the constant promise of a firing squad hanging over his head, then deprived of the chance to attend university or get any sort of professional training. If and when he's released, he'll be a much older, much sorrier person with far fewer resources for supporting himself, and he'll be alone.
Julie and I are asking you to do something kind this holiday: send Michael a postcard, a letter, or even a small care package to let him know people are thinking of him. You can reach him at:

Michael Connel
Bangkwang Central Prison
Building 12
1 Nonthaburi Road
Nonthaburi, Bangkok 11000
Thailand

If you'd like to contact other foreigners at Bangkwang, there's a roster of inmates here. All of them appreciate your support.

Mark and Juliah

Final Days in Laos

Just enough time to post a quick update on our travels. We were heartbroken to leave Vientiane yesterday. This was my third trip to PDR Laos in 8 years, though at first I felt like a bit of a freak admitting that much to other people. Slowly-slowly, though, we met others who'd been returning to SE Asia's only landlocked nation every other year, or every year, plus people who'd made Luang Prabang and Vientiane their home, and who looked as comfortable as the locals skipping about the cities on motorbikes. I was more than a little envious of them.
It's remarkable how, as a city and a capital, Vientiane has really come into its own. More than once, I got curmudgeony on Juliah, reminding her, "I remember when this city didn't have a single paved road! I remember when there were chickens in the streets everywhere! Now look at this place: cars! pet dogs! cops with shoes!" You can't quantify the level of growth that's occurred here in the last 10 years, since back when the country had a single airport that supported a single daily flight from Bangkok. I'm nostalgic for my first memories of the country, but also thrilled for the Lao people, who are desperately in need of development.
On our second to last day, we took the advice of a boorish Australian who'd hated every place he'd been except a single temple just outside central Vientiane. Wat Si Muang is one of many temples rebuilt after Thailand sacked the country in the mid-1800's. Though Thais and Laos share the same religion, Buddhism didn't stop the Thais from burning wats and wrecking images of the Buddha, just as it didn't prevent the Burmese from wrecking the temples of Ayuthaya prior to that. Inside War Si Muang is the city pillar, laid during the official founding of Vientiane. Underneath this several ton stone, it is believed, is the crushed body of a pregnant woman: a self-sacrifice or human sacrifice that pre-dates current Buddhist practices.
Wat Si Muang is Vientiane's most active temple, not only because it is the city's temple, but because the grounds and images inside are believed to have special powers of protection and blessing. A 20 pound molten Buddha statue, destroyed when the Thai wrecked the city, rests on a pillow in a room just outside the main prayer chamber, where the devout come to pray and the tourists come to take flash photography. The practice is to raise the statue above your head while silently meditating on a personal wish, and to return to the temple later with offerings of wax flowers, bananas, and incense. Inside the main chamber, the room was stacked with elaborate offerings. Outside, a small procession of students, families, and crippled people waited their turn to pray, against the backdrop of monks blessing families, performing baasi ceremonies to bind together spirits to protect the health and souls of the devout.
We're back in Bangkok to meet Julie's sister and enjoy watermelon shakes before heading to Koh Chang, off the southern coast. Pictures will be posted shortly to this page, but in the meantime please check out some of our other photos at http://www.flickr.com/photos/markandjuliah/
Best,

Mark and Juliah