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Nik — Sun, 04 Dec 2005 00:21:00 +0000

Goodbye Thailand. I will miss you. I will return.

Goodbye friends. I wish you further fun and adventures.

I safetly arrived in America and greeted by S. Not much culture shock yet. Luckily I came back to San Francisco and not a totally valueless city. But everyone looks so well dressed and uptight here. Explored some beautiful outdoor haunts and ate some Vietnamese soup after a sizable strong coffee for breakfast. Oh well, adventure to come. It has only just begun.

Heading "home"

Nik — Thu, 01 Dec 2005 11:13:00 +0000

I will be leaving Thailand tomorrow.

I wish I was enthusiastic about leaving, but I am feeling more nervous and nostalgic. This doesn’t mean that staying is the right decision either. In either case, from Friday on my lifestyle would need to change.

Thailand is a relaxing place; it is really quite amazing in this way. But this quality has been amplified by not having a job here. To break even and cover reasonable living expenses, not nearly as much work or mental sacrifice is required as in America. At the least, it would require working 10-15 hours a week. While I have worked a little, my time here has basically been an extended vacation to work on personal projects. And for whatever reason, I have been really motivated to work on them. But, if I were to live here for even longer, I would only feel right if I was no longer eating into my savings.

To me, working a fulltime job in Thailand defeats the purpose of being in Thailand. The pay is small and the opportunities for creative growth are even smaller. Despite the rigors of my last job in America, I came out far richer in creative mind, money and confidence. A similar parting gift would be hard to come by here, even though such gifts came with emotional sacrifice before. At least in Thailand I would be legitimately happy more of the time. And isn’t happiness what I’m striving for?

But I suspect that the happiness I feel here is of the more immediate kind. It is like I’ve stumbled onto a seemingly unending buffet of delicious foods. I could feast and feast and be content and happy, but when the food finally runs out I’ll even be less equipped for hunger. Hunger keeps you on your toes, feasts make you lazy and complacent. I feel to young still to go the easy road or settle somewhere. The world still large and undiscovered for me.

Things I will miss most:

Friendly people. I have never met more open, trusting and friendly people than the Thai and foreigners around Chiang Mai. And while there is the concept of saving face and being polite, the majority of the smiles are genuine. People just seem happier here. It is like a big countrywide family. You can also make eye contact without making the person think you are looking for a fight. In contrast, I’d say most American’s seem distrustful and unhappy. I think within we are all the same trusting people, but Americans get it beaten out of them daily through the media and the cutthroat and isolating lifestyle. It’s in there somewhere, it just takes work to find it. And as a consequence, distrust in other people perpetuates distrust in others. America is no family, it is a seething landmass of confused and independent people.

Delicious food. I could eat Thai food everyday for the rest of my life and have no complaints. American food now tastes thick and flavorless to me.

Cheap. Everything other than cars and computers is so much cheaper here. While inflation and increased wealth are raising prices, it is still possible to find a deal everywhere, especially regarding food.

Organized chaos and visible people. Every urban view, even the small towns, is bustling with colorful activity. People are outside, going about their lives, unhidden. The cities feel alive and practical, not just a place with buildings, but a community. More people know and care about the people they do business with. When I went back to San Francisco after my trip to Vietnam the streets seemed dead. Even on a nice day people spend most of their time inside, whether it be car, house, or store. The residential streets looked abandoned. Prior to the trip, I though the city was a vibrant bustling place. And it is by comparison to other US cities. There is just so much to see. So much crazy wiring and driving, smoke, food carts, lounging, animals, people. Everything in a swirl of activity.

I think I am not an American. I don’t accept its politics or culture. I think both are misguided and a little sad. The country has every right to assert itself in the world, to stay in power. Any reasonable country wants to grow and throw some weight around. But does it have to require constant dicking with other peoples governments, state-sponsored murder, hypocrisy, or instilling fear in its own population. What exactly is America trying to preserve in its fight not to lose its influence on the world? A lifestyle of debt, overwork, distrust, and uncertainty? Seems like a lifestyle not worth saving to me.

Obviously there are some good things about America too, but I feel it’s priorities are out of whack. We are chasing some weird abstract goal, rather than quality of life. And when our economy and social structure collapses and China takes over the world, I think the average person will wish they spent a little more time with their kids and not burning the midnight oil so they can afford to pay for the car they drive to work in.

Nik Daum Songs™

Nik — Mon, 28 Nov 2005 11:52:00 +0000

I uploaded some really short songs I made. They are .mp3 format. They are the fruits of less than two months on the guitar.

UPDATE: Added "Appelousa."

Appelousa.mp3
A country song about a man and his horse, inspired the "Get out of Dodge!" expression my dad used to use.

BehindMe.mp3
Twangy and about hopeless love.

Waitress.mp3
Features the channeled voice of a horny Louis Armstrong.

More soon.

Dreaming

Nik — Sun, 27 Nov 2005 08:57:00 +0000

I have been having weird dreams at night. This isn’t a new development, but recently I have also been told that I laugh and scream in my sleep. I have had a few anxiety dreams about heading back to the states: one involved getting lost, another involved me in a train crash that I just barely avoided by somehow walking outside of the moving train to pee in the woods. The train dream occurred the same night that E. told me that my flight is on an Asian airline with one of the worst safety records in recent years. China Airlines is apparently cleaning up it’s act, despite having nine fatal accidents since the 70s, the most recent being only three years ago and involving the death of 225 passengers and crew. I comfort myself in that if I do get in a plane crash, this was definitely the year for me to die as I have been in one motorcycle and two car accidents already. And if I survive the plane crash, I’ll have the best story to tell at any dinner party. Still though, a plane crash would suck either way.

I am already missing Thailand. I will be leaving so soon, on a bittersweet plane ride to new possibilities. In a few days, I am going to write up a list of what I’ll miss most so that I can see if it comes true.

Thanksgiving, Thai-style

Nik — Sat, 26 Nov 2005 04:53:00 +0000

Two days ago, I spent my first Thanksgiving outside of the country. That alone was plenty to give thanks for. We originally planned on hosting a party of 15 at our house, but since we don’t have an oven, baking would have been out of the question. Instead, D. and A. hosted us at their new house. We went over early and started cooking. The hosts contributed a few dishes, as did the other guests for a delicious meal of Turkey, mashed potatoes, carrots ( I made), two kinds of stuffing ( I made one of them ), cranberry sauce, rolls, two kinds of stir fried Thai vegetables, two kinds of Thai fried rice, plum tarts, brownies, and fresh Thai fruits.

It was a delicious feast. About half of the Thai people took to the food, most of which had never had a Thanksgiving meal before. The rest of the evening involved hulahooping, running around, sticking coins to my head, pretending to be a rabbit, playing cards, and drawing exquisite corpses. By the time we left, it was too late to catch a song taew, so we chartered a tuk tuk the whole way home. It was the longest ride on a tuk tuk I’ve ever had. The air is finally getting cooler here, and the ride home was crisp and hair-raising.

This Thanksgiving I missed my family, but I did not miss America.

Some photos:

Loy Kratong Festival

Nik — Sun, 20 Nov 2005 13:07:00 +0000

On the full moon night of the twelfth lunar month, the tide in the rivers is highest and the moon at its brightest. The Thai people choose this day to hold the Loy Kratong (“float lotus boats”) festival, basically a week long celebration of light, chaos and water.

For days before the official holidays dates, people started launching fireworks into the sky. Rocking booms sounded all around, even during the day. The neighborhoods looked like a less tacky version of an American Christmas. In addition to strands of electric lights, there were colorful paper lanterns, streamers, flowers, shrines, and small shallow candles decorating both shops and homes.

The atmosphere was that of a holiday, people were festive and excited. On Wednesday, we went to the Ping River, ground zero of Chiang Mai’s celebration. Sensory overload with huge crowds, a colorful parade of people and elaborate floats and music that had to push its way through the huge crowds. People eating and lighting paper lanterns to send up into the air like little glowing hot air balloons. As the evening continued, the sky was full of thousands of these glowing lanterns, some drifting higher than the clouds, others crashing and igniting trees and food stalls, or almost scorching peoples heads. They floated through the sky like UFOs or manmade stars. The celebrants were also kept on their toes by fireworks of all manner getting set of anywhere people felt like it. Bottle rockets flying around the street, firecrackers going off underfoot, deafening explosions of colored sparks that seemed too close, roman candles getting shot at the floating kratongs and at people on the other side of the river. I almost got nailed by shrapnel from a particularly sinister spinning firework. Wading through crowds of people while dodging floating lanterns and fireworks while eating and watching people send their krantongs into the water was unlike anything else. Everywhere you looked was a mixture of reverent ceremony, colorful celebration and the sights and sounds of a full scale battle against an alien invasion.

The next night we went back for more of the same, including an even longer parade comprised of people from all over the province. The place was so crowded and the parade so long that it was still unfinished after five hours.

Words cannot do this experience justice, nor can pictures.

N. and C. jammin'.

Group photo the day before C. and K. left.

Elephants!

Nik — Wed, 16 Nov 2005 05:21:00 +0000

This was the elephant trip that almost never was. The first time we attempted to go ended in a car crash and trip to the hospital. I had my doubts about the safety of the second trip, or even getting in a car again, but K. insisted to the organization that the next car we took had a good driver and seatbelts. Both qualifications were sort of true, for while the Land Cruiser had seatbelts, I was the only one who got shafted by sitting in the belt less middle back row. The driver was a far better driver than before, but he giggled like a schoolgirl and kept laughing “oh my god” when driving over the last stretch of unpaved road to the camp. I think he was tweaked.

The drive to the elephant camp was beautiful. The last few kilometers of the trip followed a winding and rocky dirt road along the edge of a river. The valley was vibrant green and unspoiled except for a few subtle plantations and signs of an earlier flood. We passed a few tourist elephants parks before reaching the thatch and bamboo log buildings of the elephant camp. Unlike any other elephant park in Thailand, this is a model of eco tourism. The elephants aren’t ridden (which is bad for their backs), they aren’t trained to perform or paint. They are just supposed to be elephants. Of the 24 animals at the park, most have been bought and rescued from old age, abuse, and overwork at tourist parks. The owner also uses the park as an example for non abusive training. Traditional elephant training in Thailand involves a cruel process of pain and abuse to “break the spirit” of the animal so that it is subservient to man. Here, the training involves nurturing and reward.

Before heading out of town, we had picked up two truckfulls of delicious fruit including pineapple, watermelon, and banana. It took some effort to keep them from ravaging the truck when we arrived, and when we started to feed them, the whole supply was gone within minutes. It was must fun feeding the babies, who were about the size of a Shetland pony and covered with bristly hair.

The full day involved bathing the elephants twice in the river, going on a walk, eating lunch, watching a documentary, feeding the elephants, watching them pee buckets, talking, getting head butted by the youngest elephant as he tried to pin us against the fence, drinking coffee.

Wonderful day.

The ride back home, however was insane. We rode in a similar van as the accident, with the same driver. He drove in an insane way as before. Fast, recklessly, while talking on the phone and stroking his hair. I truly felt like I was going to die again. He seemed to calm down once he picked up either a prostitute or girlfriend, but by that point my nerves were shot and was looking forward to drop and kiss the motionless ground.

Some photos:

Photos-a-buncha

Nik — Thu, 10 Nov 2005 14:57:00 +0000

I have been spending time with C. and K. and have not had much energy to write. Here are a few photos from the past few days with descriptions for you to see what we've been up to.

Photos (some taken by K.):

After the scare from the crash, we decided to rent a car and literally take our life into our own hands. Technically my hands, since I was the driver. Our first destination was Doi Inthanon National Park, a large national park about 2 hours southwest of town. The park is full of waterfalls and wildlife and mountains, included the tallest peak in Thailand.

Rice fields on the way to the summit.

The second tower of two bizarre chedis close to the mountain top. This one was painted in purple and gold, and with the flowers grass and sky colors felt like a set piece for the Wizard of Oz.

View of the valley below the two towers. Fog was rolling in.

K. standing in the clouds.

One of the larger falls in the park. This photo doesn't provide much scale, but the scene was massive and roaring.

A stream running through a manicured garden at the base to viewing another waterfall.

Scale is lost on this fall too.

Wooden walkways that lead to a shrine in the woods.

A shrine at the highest point in Thailand.

The next day, we drove through beautiful fields to get to some hot springs in the mountains.

Me wearing a leafpiece.

The underwhelming hotsprings. The water was hot and sulfuruous though, and downstream many people were enjoying bathing in it.

The night we returned we went to a large outdoor food festival complete with a Thai version of Axel Rose, complete with big white sneakers, tightass jeans, and a bandana. Both he and his back-up dancers seemed unenthusiastic about the whole performance. And it was a long one. It was especially disurbing to see the girls strutting and convulsing around while aslo being sublety embarrassed by it.

The expansive outdoor eating area of the festival.

Splayed and roasted dog.

The following night K. and C. with help from S. made a pseudo Mexican dinner for some friends. This is hard to do without black beans or sour cream.

Yesterday, C., S. and I took and all day Thai cooking class. Very fun and surprisingly easy. I feel capable of doing this when I get back home, assuming I can find the noodles.

The fruits of my labor, minus two dishes that that I had eaten earlier that day and desert that was forthcoming.

More later.

The Buckle and the Crash

Nik — Thu, 03 Nov 2005 15:49:00 +0000

Today started weirdly enough. We were sitting in my room when there was a sharp cracking sound outside. Looking out onto the balcony, a circular area of tile about three feet in diameter is bulging upward like a bubble about to pop. The title on the edges is cracked, but the whole tile bubble feels bouncy and hollow. The photo I took doesn’t do justice to how weird this deformity looks, but notice how the wooden stool is at an angle.

I can’t figure out what caused this.

Three days ago, we were stranded under an awning during a downpour and were witness to a motorbike accident. It was mild, luckily. He had been sharing the curbside lane and a car had been pulling out and neither saw each other. The bike and rider stayed attached but tipped over and skidded for a few feet. The driver righted his bike and with a few kick starts got it running enough to drive away. And despite that he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and almost had his head crushed by the back wheel of a bus, he seemed no worse for wear.

Then yesterday we were walking back from dinner and we saw a dog get clipped by the sidecar of a motorbike and go first rolling and then scampering down the street. It was a strangely surreal experience, and in joking I said that “that will be us next.”

Well I was right. Today on our way to an elephant rehabilitation park, our van rear ended a song taew taxi and in turn was rear ended by a large construction truck. The weird thing was that I was nervous about that ride (as I always am out here). There were no seatbelts and I imagined how my body would move in an accident. I would generally regard this as paranoid, but it seemed fitting today. Since I had not slept very well the night before, I leaned my head against the window and tried to sleep. But that posture proved uncomfortable, so I crossed my arms on the back of the seat in front of me so that I could rest my head. This was a lucky move, because I remember feeling and hearing sudden breaking and that calm quiet before impact. A few people gasped, then smash. Or two smashes actually, but I only remember one. The window that my head would have been resting on was part on the corner that the construction truck hit, shattering the windows and bending the frame and the seat in my general direction. I got s bunch of glass bits on my back and head and a jolt to my hip. One of the girls ended up conking heads with someone in the passenger’s seat, another guy got a bloody nose. C. hit his head I think and felt some shock so he sat in the truck until the ambulance came. Crazy ambulance ride. Lots of sitting in hospital. Bonding with the other guys. Everyone ended up being okay. Thankfully.

My revised open letter to whoever is in charge:

I value my life already; no more near misses please.

Longer Trip Details

Nik — Wed, 02 Nov 2005 10:45:00 +0000

We've been back in Chiang Mai for a few days. As expected, the trip south was wonderful but exhausting. I can't take more than a few days of travel without craving a semi predictable place to call home. As a tourist in Thailand, my feelings are mixed. As one person, my effect on the country is minimal and positive: pump a few dollars into the economy and share some culture. But the combined effect of millions of tourists is not so sunny. They act as a cultural bulldozer, coming in great numbers, swarming once quiet secluded places and undermining whatever local economy there was. So the place becomes almost a Thai theme park, a "paradise" village of white sand, sea, food and beer. It all feels the same. It doesn't feel real either, as a real town doesn't sell the same shakes and western food on every corner. The Thai people become irrelevant to the setting as anything more than serving the tourists. Who cares about the local language or history when you can meet so many pretty adventuring youth and share a beer or two by the ocean. This is what you would see on MTV or beer commercial. There is nothing Thai about it, other than it just happens to be in Thailand. It is disgusting.

In San Francisco, I worked across from another wholly tourist supported area called Fisherman's Warf and Pier 39. Did anyone care that there wasn't a fisherman to be seen, or that the original pier was a warehouse? What about that place made it any more special than any other mall? Not much. But while this was unsettling to see, it was more like seeing a pig eat it's own shit. It made sense that the dumb would be drawn to the bland. But in Thailand, the pigs are destroying the farm, trampling whatever other life lies underfoot.

By far, the best and most comfortable time was had around the town of Krabi. Not only was the place friendly and relaxed, but it had an honesty and real feeling compared the islands with entirely tourism based economies. We spent longer than expected there, eating in the public market at night. The first night had a festival atmosphere with traditional Thai music and dance. It was great for people-watching and cheap food. I fell in love with almost every female cook. We headed outside of town to go sea-kayaking and snorkeling. The latter was a bust, as there wasn't much in the water and didn't end up in the best of places. It was fun to swim around the rocks out in the middle of the ocean. One island we stopped at for lunch (Koh Hong) had a colony of the biggest ants I've ever seen. They seemed large enough to have facial expressions. Swimming in the water involved minor plankton bites and cutting my hands and feet on razor sharp barnacles. The kayaking went out into the ocean along cliffs and sea caves. Then we changed course and began paddling through perfectly quiet lagoons and mangrove swamp. When the talking and paddling stopped, the place was serene and powerful. The rocks towered overhead and were draped with intertwining plants. Bird calls. Fish jumping. Lapping water. Pushing farther inland into the dense mangroves, we came across monkey and crabs. The whole route took about 3 hours and was very satisfying. I hadn't used my arms for anything more than beating up hookers, so it was good to give them a more well-rounded workout.

From Krabi, we took two buses to a little town on the coast to catch an off season boat to a small island called Koh Jam. The port town was a weird and depressing place, with a lot of dour expressions and an outhouse build on a pier so that the waste would flush straight into the water underneath. Also, I tasted the worst cookies I've ever had: imagine acidic, overly sweet fake lemon crème sandwiched by soggy butter crackers. Once we got to the island we walking along a red dirt road in the drizzle to a bungalow on the western beach. It was in forced seclusion since all but one other bungalow had been destroyed and not rebuilt since the tsunami. The beach was nice and the first sunset was spectacular, an explosion of peaches, red and blues all vibrating into the clouded sky. C. was in the ocean and said it was like swimming in lava. The rooms had to electricity and were infested with mosquitoes, so the sleep came early but was also irritating and fruitless. On the way out of town two days later to catch the early boat, I felt like a dirt crusted, swollen zombie.

Ready to head home, we took two buses back into Krabi and then a taxi all the way to the Phuket airport. Flight back to Chiang Mai.

Some photos (many of which were taking by K):

Hilarious techno-music scored public aerobics in Bangkok.

Me in Bangkok near old fort.

A diseased dog.

Ants carrying a roach down a wall.

A tall statue of Buddha in Bangkok.

Me and my friend N.

A view down a footpath in a cool elevated neighborhood along the river in Bangkok. It was very quite and dense.

A mosque complete with a goat and plenty of grass. Some random lady gave us a tour.

Cool swaying building.

Public park near skytrain and Chatuchak market where everyone was relaxing.

An old man playing an instrument on the sidewalk.

Lognboat moored in Koh Pii Pii.

A small view of tsunami destruction. Most of the island was gutted like this building or completely swept away.

This large section of the shore was missing all of the buildings. It used to be lined with bungalows and restaruants. Very chilling feeling walking along path of what used to be a bustling toursit area.

A boat near the Phuket harbor.

Night market in Krabi where we ate ever night.

School children doing traditional Thai dance.

Our long boat on one of the islands near Krabi.

Me in a sea kayak.

The view from the river on our way back to the pier.

K. and a monkey.

The sea kayak pier.

C. sick in bed.

Rubber tree being tapped in Koh Jam.

Rubber trees.

Durian.

K. making batik.

Local men repairing a wooden boat in Koh Jam.

Stick ninja boy in Koh Jam.

Sunday market eating area in Chiang Mai.

Warorat market.

Man frying sausages in Warorat market.

C. and me in the kitchen.

The gang.

Who know what wonders won't happen from here.

Photos coming soon

Nik — Sun, 30 Oct 2005 17:53:00 +0000

I am still sorting through the beach trip photos and will work on a long post soon. In the meantime, I added three new images to the MEATLAND project page.

Here is one:

The parade bear run amuck.

In the South Again...

Nik — Mon, 24 Oct 2005 04:33:00 +0000

Today is over a week into traveling around Thailand with C. and his sister, K. A longer post is coming when I get back to Chiang Mai in a few days. In the meantime, a summary:

Visiting bangkok and taking a cool walk around a neighborhood on stilts, riding water taxis, walking around China Town, meeting friends, seeing trance music public aerobics in the park.

Heading to the touristy feeling islands of Phuket and Pii Pii. Taking a long and complicated bouldering hike around a penninsula that also was one continuous habitat for walking fish and crabs. Going snorkeling and inventing a ball game involving coconuts and palm fronds that felt like a cross between bocce and bowling.

Heading by boat to Krabi and going sea/mangrove swamp kayaking (with monkeys), snorkeling and hanging out in the public markets.

Here are a few photos:

China Town in Bangkok.

Smoggy Bangkok from river taxi.

Enormous golden Buddha statue in Bangkok.

Boat Graveyard in Phuket.

The Krabi coast.

C. and K. going through a passage.

Where we go from here is a mystery.

Spicy and Bland

Nik — Wed, 12 Oct 2005 16:45:00 +0000

I just ate the spiciest food I’ve ever eaten. Pad Yee Ra is a mouth searing blend of basil, cumin, red chilies and whole bouquets of green peppercorns. The neutral ingredients are green beans and meat. The spice combination of this dish was markedly different from the runner up: Som Tam spicy green papaya salad.

In other news, I just got off another international call to my insurance agent to make sure my claim from six months ago is still moving towards some type of settlement. This has been an ordeal to say the least. I knew it would be when the lady who crashed into me went into hiding somewhere in Florida. If I were to write a book about all of the hurdles I’ve gone through over the months, it may look like this:

I have had to do a lot of work on my part to make sure that the two massive organizations communicate with each other and that my claim isn’t lost to the ages. While this whole process has been frustrating, I have learned one important lesson: Don’t get into car accidents. At least I am lucky that there is no medical claim or personal injury to make this whole experience truly painful.

If you are in Florida and meet someone named Terry Williams, be creative.

Puppies!!!

Nik — Tue, 11 Oct 2005 14:12:00 +0000

After months of trying to conceive with one of the stray neighborhood bitches, the seed finally took. In an unrelated note, my housemate discovered a batch of puppies the other day. They are five in number and dialed up to eleven in cutelisciousness. Unlike their vagabond parents, the are not that skittish around people. I took some time to pat two of them yesterday. Eventually they all started playing around, trying to squeeze between the slats of a fence and stumbling over each other.

Their names are as follows: Grendel, Scruffy, Calvin, Billingsley, The Gooch, and Tilapias.

Warning: these puppies may have Asian Dog Flu.

I have re-adjusted my desire to twist the heads of the two neighborhood dogs. They still howl every night in a prolonged and brain penetrating way. They still get into our garbage. They still sleep in the street as living speed bumps. They still look tattered and diseased. But any parents of something so cute don’t deserve to die.

Also: new MEATLAND image.

A former boss who is obsessed with his youthful good looks.

The Rooftop Party

Nik — Sat, 08 Oct 2005 19:04:00 +0000

I realized today that I haven’t been around that many people in the last week. Working on the computer for long stretches to take guitar and potty breaks has cut into both my once vibrant gastronomic and social calendars.

Tonight there was a rooftop double-birthday party with a pimp and hoe theme. I didn’t wear a costume, as my limit is one costume party per month. But I did go.

The setting was the top of one of two interconnected condominium and apartment towers that appear from nowhere and illogically from the surrounding more modest buildings. The first tower called Hillside 4 was built first, maybe in the early nineties. It feels like a grand real-estate experiment that didn’t work out. (This happens a lot over here.) The lobby floor and the two above are cavernous spaces, with decorations and finish like a mall. The were supposed to function that way too: as a vibrant and bustling commercial area to support the thousands of tower residents as well as being a popular place to come and meet. But except for an upscale Japanese restaurant that always seems to have live music despite only one table of dinners, the floor is basically a retail grave. Abandoned stores line the walls. Information desks sit empty. The lighting is dark, the space echoes. The two floors above are even more barren.

What makes this more fascinating it not just that its abandoned, but that the place feels like it’s dying. Coming across a gutted or collapsed building is entirely reconstructing a memory from the skeleton. But a semi-occupied building that seems in the process of being abandoned is another feeling indeed. It is like watching a person die, and the somber feeling colors all of the activities within.

Chiang Mai has many such buildings, all in varying states on abandonment. The street I live on even is about one quarter empty. Many developers go overboard and overbuild with the hope that the space will be filled. But as soon as the tenants start moving out, a momentum builds and others leave. No one wants to live in a ghost town, after all. So there are whole housing developments that maybe have a few occupied houses. The rest get swallowed by vines and tall grasses. Whole thousand-unit towers sit abandoned and rotting, obviously built in an undesirable place. It is as if some rich land owner took a trip to Bangkok and only came back with the idea of building something really big. He may respond to a doubting-Thomas: of course people will want to live there, it is so big. But looking around at the modest and practical Thais, you know that developments like this are doomed from the start. Hi-density housing only has a chance in Bangkok because it’s so crowded. It isn’t that people want to live in a high-rise, it’s that they want to live where the high-rise is.

The party was fun. I knew a few of the people and had an easy time meeting others. As the night wore on, me and most of the other guests ended up swimming and dancing in their underwear. Luckily I wore my non-tattered boxer-briefs. I ate some cake and had a bit of a mildly-erotic cake fight, I was taught how to tread water by two underwear clad ladies. It felt like I was in beer commercial or some alternate version of college. But rather than being the guy in the toga who lowers his shades to get a better look at a hottie walking by, I would be the guy who chuckles to himself about the chaos around him. He enjoys the time but only because it’s fleeting. And like so many experiences before, he knows that this debauchery is something that he can never fully surrender himself to.

Test Renders and go Number One!

Nik — Thu, 06 Oct 2005 03:31:00 +0000

I finished modeling the basic geometry for the protagonist's shed. Tomorrow I start texturing and adding detail. Here are two untextured renderings:

Also, I finally displaced the top result in google for the term meatland.

This really good, though it is sad that the Russian food distributor with the cute animated meat cuts had to get pushed to number 2, much like it's meat products eventually will.

This is a new addition to NIKDAUM.COM's sweep of the google engine for the terms office sketches and how solve rubick's cube. Up next: become king of sad poems.

Another Image

Nik — Sun, 02 Oct 2005 14:12:00 +0000

I don't know what happened today. I didn't really do anything or eat anything or see anything, but the day is almost over.

The backyard and shed where the protagonist lives.

Holy Cow

Nik — Fri, 30 Sep 2005 19:08:00 +0000

I got a mention of my MEATLAND project at DRAWN! A popular blog for art and animation. I was expected I'd see a slight bump in traffic, but instead I get over a thousand visitors to my site that day, and more than normal on the next. Over 2/3rds of my server's transfer quota was eaten up in one day. It's both cool, and very scary to think that so many people just looked at the beginning stages of a very big and personal project. But that's what I want. Isn't it?

New image:

Mysterious Lady in Black at the funeral.

I also realize this blog is turning more into an art blog rather than a travel diary. I feel a split in the works.

New Images

Nik — Thu, 29 Sep 2005 19:17:00 +0000

New MEATLAND images started and finished this evening.

Here they is:

The sexy BEAR parade girls. One of them is drunk.

The protagonist's gluttonous father. He is wearing underwear and pondering his stash.

Peace out.

Flood's a comin'

Nik — Wed, 28 Sep 2005 15:06:00 +0000

There is a buzz in the air, a flood buzz that is. The section of town closest to the river is bracing for another overflow. I went over to help sandbag the entrance to a friends house that is just across the street from the river. We were a little low in sand, so we went to a lot where dump trucks where distributing sand so that people could fill their bags. The affected community was there, shoveling sand and talking and working earnestly. It was an amazing atmosphere that I didn’t think to bring my camera for. Riding in the back of a covered truck with plastic windows rustling and shovels clanking made me feel like part of some mini relief task force.

Here is a photo of our handiwork:

I also added to new images to my Meatland page. Here they are:

Driving the courtesy van while grocery shopping in the megamart.

Wider view of shoppers in the megamart.

Meatland Dev

Nik — Sun, 25 Sep 2005 19:15:00 +0000

I finally got around to doing a better page for my MEATLAND project. It can be found at: nikdaum.com/meatland and is greatly enhanced by speakers being turned on.

I have started colorizing more development drawings and hopefully will be posting a bunch more soon. Some samples:

There is a whole series of fanciful steamships I am working on as part of a sidestory for the town. Here is one of the more mundane ones, "The Grande."

One float from teh bear celebratory parade.

80s Party

Nik — Sun, 25 Sep 2005 13:19:00 +0000

Last night there was an 80s themed party. I threw together a costume at the last moment. Here is a picture.

I danced the night away, all to hits of a past era. Midway, I took my scooter to a market, all in this rediculous getup. The girl I went to the market with looked like a newwave prositute and we had a quick photo shoot. I am still waiting to retrieve the photos. The weird thing was that I solicited no more stares than usual.

The Dream, the Guitar, and the Meatland

Nik — Thu, 22 Sep 2005 16:43:00 +0000

Last night I went to sleep late. I had a historic dream. After years of being fascinated with meat, it finally dreamt of it.

I was in the woods at night near a cabin and campfire. The moonlight was very bright. I was given an enormous sack with an equally enormous pig’s head inside. The head had been semi-cooked, and it was my job to take a knife and cut of slabs of meat to add to the soup that was simmering in a big cauldron over the fire. I hesitated, weirded out, but dug in with my knife and cut off steak sizes chips of meat that I hung on a fence until the broth got hot enough. I clearly remember the feeling of the knife cutting the head and how I had to scrape the knife a certain way to remove a surprising amount a soggy white hairs from the skin.

Later in the dream, a man rode in on a horse. He had matted white hair and dirt smudged on his face except for around his piercing blue eyes. He invited himself to eat with me, and though I was scared of him I couldn’t object.

Today I practiced guitar some more and printed out the tabs for four songs I want to learn: Needle in the Hay (Elliot Smith), True Love Waits (Radiohead), Scientist (Coldplay), Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana).

This evening I started modeling the city from the "story" I’m working on. I want to start getting more imagery going for this project while I work on the words.

Here’s a rendering of the superstore and the tycoon tower surrounded by highways.

Night falls as Browny watches over the town.

The Strumming and the Drenching

Nik — Mon, 19 Sep 2005 14:56:00 +0000

Before I left for the beach and with the help of my mother and the Internet, I tuned my loaner cheap-ass Burmese guitar the right way. Prior to this, it had been tuned by ear using Nik’s Easychord Method™ by which open strumming on any fret produces a harmonious chord. Avoiding judgment, this way is neither wrong nor right, but it is certainly a different from any guitar tuned during the history of man. By following tradition, I started the process of learning real chords and how to play from online tabs. I am actually quite along with learning how to play Elliot Smith’s Needle in the Hay. And at this I am both shocked an overjoyed. The guitar was always such a mysterious device to me, but now its mysteries are unraveling. It is not as hard as I thought it would be, but I’ve only just begun. I kick myself for not having started sooner.

My fingertips are numb and bruised though. Is this normal? I am sad to see my soft princess fingers leathering up.

This evening I went to meet S. for dinner. Two problems from the onset: It was raining and I returned my scooter. The rainy season here is frequent torrential downpours, sometimes lasting hours. I should have respected this fact, but it wasn’t raining very hard so I didn’t bother to take an umbrella. I had trouble flagging down the sangtao trucks, and they tried to gouge me on the fare, but I made it to the restaurant without much bother. During our meal it started pouring. When it tapered off a little I began the reverse trip home. Walking along the main road I was ankle deep in water, the road was a river. The rain began to pick up too, but not so bad as to thoroughly soak me. But by this point there wasn’t much reason to take a cab anymore, so I decided to walk all the way home (maybe 3 miles). With each step closer, the downpour increased. About halfway home, a car drove by and sent and arcing cascade of water onto my whole right side. It was the kind of moment that anyone but the victim can see coming from a mile away. Soon, the water was roaring so thickly that the view appeared festering and grey. I was thoroughly soaked by this point and quite a spectacle to all of the Thai people who were waiting for the rain to subside. One the final stretch off road, I was walking in the dark with frogs croaking a splashing at my feet. I felt like a soldier in a monsoon jungle, only in my case I knew I’d be somewhere dry soon.

My cell phone is fried however.

Back From the Beach

Nik — Sat, 17 Sep 2005 12:14:00 +0000

Note: This is a long post with many photos.

The trip south to pacified my beach lust.

The journey was a personal one, 1) because I traveled alone, and 2) that the new sights and experiences gave me perspective on my time in Chiang Mai. It was a local version of what insights moving to Thailand gave me about America. I'm now more skeptical that Thailand is the right place for me to spend any more time in than I originally planned. It is a wonderful place with beautiful exotic sights and lovely people. But the warm climate and laid back mentality of the place is also a deterrent to my personal projects. Arguably, I wasn't working on them very diligently when I was working a full time hectic job, but proportionately to my free time I was actually creating a lot MORE in America than I am here. And I had a steady income. There are jobs to be had here, but the odds are not in my favor for design work. And I don't know if I want to teach English, I certainly don't seem inclined to. So many places in the world are waiting for my visit, and I won't be able to pay for that traveling as easily if I'm making an ex-pat salary in Thailand. More importantly, I have a masterplan for my future, and the roots of it have been planted in America. It can branch internationally as the plan grows more mature. But in this delicate stage, my shit is needed back home to fertilize it.

I've built momentum for my MEATLAND project, with one idea spinning of onto a children's book of a nautical theme. I've also increased my self-doubt.

I did a lot of exploring alone, mostly on foot through jungle and along the beach. Everyday in the beginning felt like an exquisite death march. A few surprises were how many European and Israeli tourists there were compared to the three Americans I met. Luckily English was the lingua franca for all backpacker talk. I had a couple good conversations, but my time was mostly private and outside or inside a bungalow writing and daydreaming.

I cut the trip short because after a while the beaches started to look the same, my favorite pen ran out of ink, I finished cover to cover the book I brought (Everything is Illuminated), and I was getting tired of studying Thai.

Here is a daily list of interesting happenings:

Day 1

Fly to Bangkok and take a scary hi-velocity taxi ride in a monsoon downpour to the bus station on the southern side of town. Arrive in Hua Hin. Meet J. at resort and sit on lounger by the ocean for two hours. Get depressed by the touristy feel of the place.

The view at the resort at low tide. Some fishing boats are beached until the water rises.

Day 2

Wake up early and take a walk on the beach. Sit and drink a soda and talk to Thai man about the weather and Hua Hin. Get further depressed by the unauthentic, shithole feel of the place and cut my stay short a night by getting on a bus to Chumphon. Bus dropped me and a middle-aged Belgium 8 kms from town. We stood at the side of the highway until a friendly Thai man in a rusted out sputtering white pickup gave us a ride into town for a song. The Belgium almost feel off the truck. He and I ate dinner and parted as mysteriously as we meet in the crowd of central market.

Day 3

Get up at 5:30 in the morning to catch the bus to the port on the edge of town. Meet a British couple and a guy from Germany who reminded me of someone I used to work with.

The ugliest and cheapest room of the whole trip, but I got the best sleep here.

The ferry takes us down the river to the ocean.

The banks are lined with colorful fishing boats and people going about their morning routine. The air smells filthy, a mixture of smoke and fish.

The moment we break out into the sea. Overcast but warm.

Koh Tao as we approach.

Disembarking at the only pier in town. The sky was starting to clear. By this point I desperately had to use the restroom. I was swept into a tourist scam to look at a shitty bungalow so that I could do likewise. I started hiking around town to find the guesthouses I read about but I got lost.

Eventually I found the main drag on Haat Sairee. Views like a postcard.

One of the many longboats for taxiing people around the island.

My bungalow bathroom. A mosquito nexus. Thai-style note: no toilet paper.

The first sunset I saw on Koh Tao from my guesthouse restaurant.

Day 4

Woke up early to go on a hike to a viewpoint on the south side. The hike went through the main town and many bungalows tucked into private coves. A lot of the trail was right on the edge of the water and through thick palm groves peppered with boulders. The sound of the waves was the stable background to the varying bird calls and plant rustling. Many views inspired awe. But I have never been on a tropical island before, so there you go.

This was the first little bay I discovered. I could actually see fish swimming below the water.

A bar at the water's edge.

The jungle I walked through a little inland as the day wore on. A large black gecko ran across my path. There was a flock of wild chickens wandering around with a nest in the hollow under a boulder. I started feeling faint because I hadn't eaten anything, so I hobbled back into town and had a meal by the water.

Day 5

Had a dream where I was hanging out with Michael Jackson. I told him he was handsome and needed to stop all the surgery. Slept poorly. Went on a walk to the north of the island.

A more open field of palms with the ocean in the background.

Koh Nag Yuan, a string of three islands off the northeast corner of Koh Tao. They are connected by sandbar and only accessible by boat. Went on a nighttime walk. Felt like my mind was separate from my body. A Thai man selling fish asked me if I was alright, and I told him that I was full.

Day 6

Wake to steady rain. Walk in rain to board boat to Koh Pha-Ngan. The water was very turbulent and it felt like the boat was going to tip.

All of the passengers look like refugees minus any true suffering. Next to me where two girls from Seattle. One told me about how the week prior a boat like ours had overturned. Arrive on Koh Pha-Ngan. Take saangtao truck along the roller coaster-like road to the town of Hat Rin. Wander around town and wander up a dirt road to a bungalow on the southern-most point of the island. The room was perched on stilts above the hillside.

The view from my balcony.

Hat Rin Nok beach seen from the hill next to my bungalow.

Me, sitting on hammock and looking a little more tan than normal.

I decide to go on a hike up to the lighthouse to see if I can climb it. It looks too rickety to climb, but I find a trail barely visible in the woods.

The trail winded down the hillside.

It opened up on a rickety wooden walkway along the water's edge.

The walkway kept going and going until it terminated at a guesthouse at the edge of the world. The office and restaurant were made from the old lighthouse support buildings and newer bungalows had been built on the hillside and among the boulders and the far edge.

A spirit house overlooking the ocean. Koh Samui is in the background. About now, I decided to to stay at this guesthouse for the next night.

Day 7

Go on walk around town and eat some authentic soup at the only restaurant that didn't have tourists.

Took a nap in the hammock outside my bungalow. Little flies kept landing on me though. That night a storm was rolling in, but I decided to sleep outside in the hammock, wrapped in a blanket. Fairly successful. I had a dream where I woke up and walked up the hill to pee. Then I woke and let dreams become reality. Except in my sleep daze I slipped on my own pee and slide down the grassy hill a bit. Then I hit my head on the roof of the porch when I was walking back to the hammock. This location affected me. It made both sight and sounds so vibrant. My mind was active and sharp. It felt like a scene out of the computer game Myst. But this time the adventure was real.

Day 8

I was a little disgruntled by the roach situation and dirty bedding and by the cost of the food in the restaurant. Especially because it wasn't good. That morning, I tried to make a break for it without paying my food bill. I was caught once as I was leaving–I offer a pacifying excuse. I approach a monkey standing on the plank bridge. He is facing a man, the monkey's back to me. The monkey turns and stares at me for a moment, realizes it is flanked and jumps into the water and climbs up the nearby rocks. The man thanked me, saying that the monkey was hissing and clawing at him when he tried to cross the bridge. I continue my escape, but am chased down by scooter in a coconut grove. The same lady must have taken the time to see through my excuse. I coughed up the food money and we both went on our ways, a little uncertain at to what each other though of the situation. Got on a boat for the large island of Koh Samui.

Day 9

Walked and read. Sat on beach. Had a full, bad conversation in Thai about where to find fruit. Led to a neighborhood conversation and a cute girl leading me by foot over the hill to point to the determined store. Bought and gorged on mangos. The power cut off three times that day, making my room too hot to stay in. Shopped in a blackened 7-11.

Big Buddha Beach in Koh Samui. Koh Pha-Ngan is in the distance.

Day 10

Paid expensive guesthouse bill, took expensive taxi to airport. Ate expensive breakfast, walked to terminal, slapped myself when I realized that they were serving a free breakfast to customers. Ate another breakfast. Ate a third breakfast on plane. Then lunch on the plane. Saw what I think was a large oil spill in the gulf. Extensive flooding as far as the eye could see in between Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Met two ladies from San Francisco.

Arrived "home."