Kents Guide

A GOURMET’S GUIDE TO THAI FOOD, Course Three

By Kent Whitaker

“For Dessert, Swenson’s Would Be Good”

(The continuing adventures of our heroes, Paul, John and Kent, and their Faithful Guide Norman and his sidekicks Moses, Pirod, and Pracha with a supporting cast of hundreds, as they experience the lifestyles and cuisines of exotic Thailand.)

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As we headed out of town, we added a few of the village teenagers and one older man to our crew so that we could drop them off at other villages down the road. The people in the mountains think nothing of walking a couple of hours to get somewhere, but trips to more remote locations usually have to wait until someone lets you ride on the back of their 50cc moped; but in the scheme of things, riding in the back of a truck is a lot more comfortable that holding on for dear life on a motor scooter. So when two pickups were heading out of town, you did whatever you could to snag a ride; with all our gear and the extra passengers we were loaded.

After about 30 or 45 minutes it sprinkled on us and Norman became a little worried about the weather. Although we were in the “dry” season, it still sometimes rained and it didn’t take much to make the accents up the clay paths impossible. He warned us that it was a waste of time to even try to get up the hills for at least two days after it got wet, so we were hoping and praying that the weather would be kind. The light rain was only spotty, so maybe we would get lucky and find the road dry when we got to the steep climbs. About 15 minutes later, our luck ran out and we hit a marbles-on-glass spot just as the trail headed for the sky.

Although we saw Pracha in the lead truck sliding back and forth, bumping from one side of the pathway to the other as he raced the engine, he was inching up, up, up and soon disappeared around a bend; we lost traction almost immediately. Maybe it was his extra weight advantage from the 5 extra passengers in the back, or maybe it was his kamikaze style of “let ‘er rip – full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes!” approach, but Pracha got up and we didn’t. We tried backing up to gain a little speed, but nothing worked. We honked and honked, and eventually the other group walked back down. We tried lots of stuff to no avail, until Pracha pushed his boss aside, took the wheel, and with a big grin told everybody to climb in and hang on. We did, and he let loose, engine revving like a banshee, clay spraying everywhere, fishtailing and sliding every direction, but we were going up! After at least a half mile of this we finally crested the top and joined the other truck. You could tell that Pracha was having the time of his life, but Norman just grinned and shook his head, saying something about “No wonder we’re always replacing clutches!”

We soon reached an intersection and met for a caucus. We were out of the mountains and back on paved roads, but our next target village was several mountains over and back in the wilds; if the weather turned bad, we could be stuck there for days. Those of us with plane tickets were a little uneasy with this arrangement, since Norman told us of a friend who had missed his flight and had to wait 2 weeks for a slot to open back up; we all decided that Pracha and Pirod could take the extra passengers on to the village, and if they got stuck, at least they didn’t have to catch a plane. Norman, Paul, John, and I would go back to Moses and the hostel for another night. If Pracha's group could get out they would meet us there the next day for the trip to the other Bible College, and then back to Chaing Mai.

I believe that this was God’s plan. When we were there for our first visit, we learned of Norman’s master dream for the hostel: There were 7 or 8 acres of land to the back side of the hostel that they had wanted to buy for several years, but funds were never available. If this land could be purchased (estimated $30,000 American) they could not only double the hostel’s facilities for practically nothing (the villagers donate the labor) but they could also put in a conference center to train village leaders. These conferences are held several times a year outdoors, and 600 to 1,000 people come each time for the week long training. It is in these seminars that villagers learn doctrine, practical matters of the faith, and other issues that will help the Saints better serve and protect each other, as well as learn outreach tools for their unsaved neighbors.

When we pulled up to the hostel this time, Moses told Norman that the absentee landlord of the property had contacted him and hinted that they would like to talk again. We spent the afternoon, and the period before supper, discussing details, and folks it boils down to this: for about $65,000 they could accomplish the following: 1.) Buy the land, insuring that the hostel could continue to provide housing and education for an additional 100 - 200 kids a year; 2.) Build the necessary additional dormitories and related support buildings; 3.) Build a modern meeting facility to be used for conferences and other functions year round; and 4.) Have the space available for future expansion of additional hostel beds and a future building to train the kids in business skills. Like I said, they can really stretch the dollar.

After supper, the kids all met at the pavilion again for the evening worship time. Let me point out something: the mild evenings we were enjoying (mid 60’s) seemed cold to them. You will notice in many pictures that the Thai people are wearing wool caps and jackets; I guess it is the 115 degrees in the summer that jogs their internal comfort controls. Anyway, after the singing, and our short messages, we were again asked to take prayer requests, and again nearly everyone got in line. Again, and again, these kids would whisper to you of how homesick they were, and how worried they were that they would not do well, or they worried about sick family members. It really brought home how much alike we all are, even with the obvious culture differences. Kids still miss their families and homes, still feel awkward in a strange culture (remember, these kids come from homes and villages like we had just left), and still have lack of confidence issues just as we did at their age. It made you want to help in any way you could.

Then it was back to Nirand’s house for the night.

I had decided that it was time for a bath, which was done by filling a bucket with water, pouring it over yourself, lathering up, and repeating the rinse procedure. There was no hot water, of course, and no tub; you just let the water run down the concrete, past the porcelain “squatter” and then out of the house. Not bad at all, I’ve had lots worse, but when I tried to turn the water spigot on, the whole valve came off in my hand, releasing the full 40 psi of water pressure like a horizontal fire hydrant, spraying me and everything else in the room. There are times in life where dignity is the least of your worries, and this was one of them. Responding to my calls for help, Nirand finally came in, laughed at my naked attempts at flood control, and crammed the valve back on. Of course, I had already tried this, but the water pressure had pushed it back off each time; I guess you had to have the right touch. Anyway, I finished my bath thinking that a can of PVC glue would be a good addition to Norman’s request list.

The next morning I took a 40 minute walk around town before breakfast, trying to keep from getting lost or attacked by dogs (no problem there – they were totally unconcerned about me), and when I got back Pracha and Pirod pulled up from the mountains, and after breakfast and a few pictures outside Nirand’s home, we all headed back for a last stop at the hostel, and a final trek into the wilderness to visit the second Bible College, which is about two miles from the little village of Massatop.

By this time I had lost track of my bearings, but I think Massatop is about an hour’s drive north. The college lies in a pretty little valley with a broad stream running nearby, and picturesque cliffs with caves that Norman said his dad had explored as a young missionary many years ago, finding a tiger lair in one; the tiger was obviously occupied elsewhere that morning, or 50 years later we would never have made the trip to visit Norman! The college is populated by about a dozen students, and run by a young couple, Elizabeth and Asa, who interestingly enough met as student leaders at the hostel years ago – the rest of the students thought they were so cute they should fall in love and get married, so they did. They now have a beautiful baby girl named QueSera.

After touring the facilities, Norman, Paul, John and I met in the building used as the church, and I hit a low spot, thinking about my lost family and how I wanted to make the most of my remaining life – we all prayed for healing and direction, and before long we were all laughing again. We headed down hill to see the river, and met a local with a home-made spear gun. He had speared three fish about 5 inches long and was pretty proud of his afternoon’s work; three fish represents a lot of protein.

Speaking of protein, it was now supper time, and we met in a small building with all the students for another meal of rice and vegetables and spices. Norman was telling us a funny story about a time that a whole assembly was hanging on his every word – it was as if they were spell bound. Norman, like most preachers or politicians thusly encouraged, waxed eloquent for about an hour, only to find out later that what had kept everyone’s attention was that a huge beetle, about the size of a cowboy buckle, had flown in and landed on his crotch. Everyone was waiting to see when his enthusiastic delivery would finally excite the huge bug into doing something potentially hysterical, especially considering its location. When along about then, another huge bug interrupted the telling of the story, flew into the dining hall and dive bombed Norman’s privates. We all just about fell on the floor in laughter. No sooner had we recovered, we noticed that a young chicken had taken a fancy to Pracha and roosted on his chair. He was whooshed away, but came back two or three times. The evening was turning bizarre, but we had no idea how bad it would get until bed time.

Following supper everyone went up the hill to the church for singing and testimony and preaching. We were getting pretty good at the short sermons by now, and the singing was fun. I had noticed a young man at supper who sat hunched over, with his feet in the chair and knees drawn up to his chest, but I had just dismissed it as a quirk in style, or perhaps a cultural thing that I did not recognize; however, it became apparent that there was something wrong. His name was Lohwai (Low-way) and I visited with him the next day (he actually spoke some English) and found out that he was a refugee from the civil war in Burma. I never found out the nature of his spinal problem that caused his back to be so grotesquely bent, whether it was a birth defect, an injury, or perhaps the result of the brutality that the Burmese military on both sides show the Christian Karen, who are caught in the middle. Considering that he was the only one in his family to survive, and knowing the history of those brutal thugs, it may well be that his back is the result of beatings. His quiet serenity and dignity is, to this day, a lesson in humility for me.

After church we headed down to the open-walled hut that we called home for the night. It was time for a council meeting. For some time now there has been some tension on which direction the ministry should go in relationship to the two colleges: should they consolidate to better use limited resources, or stay separate to utilize both facilities; and if they were to unite, which facility should they use. Even Norman wasn’t sure which way it would go, but he had warned us that (as in most business dealings with the Oriental mind) much was going on that never showed itself on the surface. It was fascinating to watch as all of these friends, all with probably different thoughts, politely but candidly and effectively stated their positions. Later, Norman told us that it was his guess that much had already been discussed in small groups prior to the meeting. The consensus was to consolidate; moving Pirod’s students in Manichon to join the group here at Massatop, but the details still had to be worked out.

Prior to the meeting, Paul hauled out his unused air mattresses. When we had heard about the accommodations before leaving the States, I gave Paul a “U” shaped travel pillow and he gave me a battery operated air mattress. However, when we hit our first night out in Nirand’s home, it just seemed like bad taste to use them, so although they had been riding in the back of the truck the whole trip, we had never taken them out of the box, for fear of offending our host. But since this was the last night, we decided to splurge, especially since Paul had a surprise planned involving the mattresses. When we blew them up and the team saw them, it was like their eyes bugged out. Pracha said with a straight face that he only wanted it until 2am – he would be glad to turn it over to someone else after that! You would have thought they were Playboy centerfolds, the way the guys looked at them. So when we met for the big council, all the Thai guys staked out spots on the two mattresses, seriously overloading the rated capacity since that meant that about 3 guys per mattress were guarding their spots!

But once the council was over and everyone broke up, the four Americanos settled down for our last night in the Thai hills. It was time to break out the good stuff.

I have been on long campouts, and knew that there would come a time when an Oreo cookie, or some Pringles, or some special candy or treat can bring you to tears. So I had hidden some good stuff away and we broke it out, and sure enough things got a little out of hand. It was like we were punch drunk – everything was funny. I had a little 4” tripod that I had used with the camera timer to take group pics, and I set that up in an effort to get us all in one shot, but it took three tries, and each failure was the funniest thing to have ever happened in the history of mankind. Finally the candles melted down and it was time for Paul and I to bed down in comfort on the air mattresses, and for John and Norman to spend one more night on the hard floor. Priceless!

The next morning, while Paul, Asa, John, Norman, and most of the male population in the area tried to get a Moped started, I took a walk down the village road towards Massatop, and was once again taken by the beautiful countryside. With the exception of a couple of villagers going towards the corn and rice fields, I was totally alone with God. I almost hated to turn around and go back, but by then I was starting to get hungry for breakfast and my stomach won out. After eating, we walked down to the creek and saw the villagers working a rice field. It really looked like hard work, as they cut the rice with curved knives and carried it in bundles to a dry area and stacked it up.

Before we drove off, we all gathered for a group picture, and Paul made his surprise donation of the two air mattresses to Asa and Elizabeth. I can promise you, that night was the first time in their lives that they slept on something other than bamboo or nylon string mats. You should have seen their faces. And Paul’s.

As is often the case on long trips, the last leg back was uneventful and a little sad. We were all looking forward to getting back to civilization and a shower (!) and meat (!!), but it was still a little sad to say good-bye to the sweet people and beautiful countryside. But soon we were back into the smokes of Chaing Mai, and Debbie’s washing machine didn’t stop for about 6 hours.

When asked what we wanted for supper Paul was (as usual) direct: “I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t involve rice and is spelled Burger King!” Which is what we did, and finished things off with a trip next door to Swenson’s for some ice cream. But the night was yet young, and we were in high spirits, so we spent the next two hours walking through the 10 block long Night Market, which was one huge bazaar. Lots of neat stuff, lots of junk, and lots of people. It was fun just wandering around looking at stuff. John and Debbie both pointed out that the tall girl in the high end jewelry store that we passed was really a guy with lots of makeup. Fooled me.

(Thus ends Part Three. Stay tuned – we still have our appointment with a stone fired pizza, a black cobra, elephants that paint, and various loose ends – so don’t touch that dial!)

Pictures:

210 – This must be the slippery slope politicians are always warning us about