Friday, September 23, 2011

Breast slapping - not sure if it's for me!

You know how you get those emails (thank you Ernie) from time to time, that you just want to share with everyone. Couldn't go past putting this on Cooee....since it's so totally Thailand.

"Sometimes we have to refuse treatment because some breasts are too small to be enlarged." 
I can just see the tears now.

This is the original article in the Herald Sun

Apparently it's not a new concept -
The Independent 2003 
The Health Ministry offers the classes as a substitute for silicone implant surgery, increasingly common among slender Thais. The government seems to consider the beauty of Thai women a vital natural resource to be better developed....The ministry launched a six -month study on volunteers aged 20 to 60, and found vigorous massage left their breasts cancer-free and measurably bigger.
Hmm...not sure, but I reckon if I went in for regular slapping around, I'd increase by a few centimetres of swelling too. Although, I did read that it not only involves slapping, but also pinching massaging and the permanent relocation of fat! So, maybe I could have my butt and thighs gradually relocated to my chest?

One thing I do know for sure is, that at 8 - 10 million baht per course, I'm in the wrong business.

Any thoughts?

Snap's other blog Chiang Mai Thai

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Cue the queue rage

So...just exactly what is a 'queue'?

Well, according to Wiki it's 'where a line of people wait' = first come, first served.

In Thai it's spelt คิว (kew) and sounds the same as the English word 'queue'. "French (out of Latin coda), from the French cue, a word originally meaning "tail", but evolving over time by the 1700s at least in French to also mean line." Askville Amazon

If you've frequented shops here, like 7-Elevens, you'll soon learn not to leave a gap more than half a (Thai) person deep, between you and the counter, or the person in front of the queue, if there is one!

Don't get me wrong, there are pusher innerers in all countries, under the different pseudonyms: queue jumpers, butters, bargers, budgers, skippers and ditchers etc. And, I've even encountered (on two occasions here) where a gentleman actually moved aside for me, before his transaction had even finished.

* Waiting in line in Hong Kong airport and an Indian guy interrupts our hamburger order to ask 'What can I buy for?'...holding out a handful of coins.

* Waiting in front of an informal queue, in Australia, for the ticket dispenser to be filled (so we could officially queue), only to have my hand nailed and grazed by some bogan diving from the back of the group to collect her number.

*Standing in Barcelona airport, discussing with some German (I think) guys about what name they had for the people who'd just jumped our queue...'forward people'. 

* Just recently, waiting at Chiang Mai airport, when Air Asia decided (in its typical wisdom) to divert 2 small queues of individual travellers into one, to make way for a massive group who were travelling together...all would have been hunky dory, had it not been for the family of 8 causing some sort of half an hour hold up at the counter.
* In reverse, (Australia) having shopkeepers literally look over the top of the heads of children in front of me, in the queue...what? Anyone under your eye level is invisible?

* And, when some European guy blocked my way at immigration, shoving his passport under the nose of the lovely ticket dispenser man...'Is your name Snap?' dispenser man asks...'No' the guy says....'Well get back in line.'

Same guy had borrowed a pen from me earlier, when first arriving (at 7 a.m. in the morning!!!!), to put our names/number down in blue and white on a paper queue. I seriously thought he was going to have some sort of convulsion if I didn't lend him the pen first. He hovered over me as I rummaged around trying to retrieve it from my bag. I stood my ground  however, and passed it to him after I'd put my John Hancock on the list.

Strike me down if the same guy wasn't leaning on the counter, trying to get in front, when my number was called. Whatever! That's why we have numbers on our tickets.

No matter what country you're in, you encounter some people who haven't been educated in queuing etiquette, to some degree! And, if you're in that country for a while, you really start to *notice*., I'm in one of my semi regular 7-Elevens, once again (I know what the go is there...there is no go! Hug the counter, or the person in front of you, or someone will slink in from the side) and I'm second in line. The staff see me and start talking and joking, in Thai, about my usual order...another story.

I'm waiting behind three students buying Slurpee type drinks and microwaved goopy food, when I spot a small lady leaning in from the left. RIGHT! That's it! There is a time when one tires of being the invisible person in the line ... and farang are big, so she can't say she hasn't seen me.

She starts to lean in even more, so, ever so inconspicuously and slowly, I slide my foot forward between her and the students. The students eventually pick up there purchases and begin to move away from the counter.

The small lady goes for the kill, to plonk her stuff on the counter before me. I say "excuse me" (in Thai) politely *smiling* and look to the 7-Eleven boy, who is holding his hand out to ME in a 'your next' gesture...which is a rarity.

VICTORY!!!!!! that pathetic?

I return to my Thai friend's restaurant and ask her what the go is with queuing here? It's OK, she's used to farang asking rude questions. Apparently she has similar problems, so I'm relieved to know it's not just me. I was starting to get a complex. How does she deal with it? Usually the same way I do. Generally ignores the situation or says something to the person next to her, loud enough for the culprit to hear.

However, when you don't have language on your side it leaves one without the option of indirect verbal castigation, with only charades, facial expressions, tactical maneuvers or brute force remaining ;)...or there's always vipāka.


Snap's other blog Chiang Mai Thai

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Looking for a good massage in Chiang Mai?

So, I'm lying there...on my back...fully arched over the raised knees of the masseuse underneath me. I'd usually have some reluctance about being in this position, being, well not the lightest compared to most Thai women. However, my lady today is not what you'd call 'delicately boned'. But boy, does she and her colleagues know what they're doing!

Anyway, as she's massaging my temples, possibly so I don't notice the blood rushing to my head, and I think to myself, I really ought to give this place a plug.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

September 11 is a little different for us

Today will no doubt be a solemn day for many as they recall the horrific tragedy of ten years ago. For us however, it has a very different meaning.

27 years ago today CJ came into our world. We were completely spun out that we'd actually created another human being. She arrived determined, intelligent and one of those kids who is sixty years old trapped in a tiny person's body.

Exactly two years later her sister appeared. A fairy like child (who slept most of her time in my womb) and who I can never could imagine growing into an adult, with an adult's voice...but of course, she did.

Both births were quick and I've been told, just ask Stray. Each only taking 3 to 5 hours of  what I'd call real labour pain.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Heaven in a banana leaf cup

Yes, the pursuit for delicious and different food continues...just ask my butt! 

Mouse took me to the market yesterday, where I bought Hor Mok Bplaa. The thing about going to the market, with a local, is that they know who sells the best, freshest, whatever and at the best price. Oh, and they can explain to you exactly what it is you’ll be eating later.

Hor Mok Bplaa is a Steamed Curry and Fish Custard (hòr mòk bplaa /ห่อหมกปลา)

Thursday, September 1, 2011

A Day Out In Bo Sang

If you’re looking for something to do around Chiang Mai, the Bo Sang area has a lot to offer. Apart from the fishing park, there’s silk weaving, clothes and embroidery, pottery, jewellery and silver shops and the parasol factory to visit.
Factory probably isn’t the right word, although there is an assembly line of sorts, as the umbrellas are all made by hand. How? The bark of the mulberry tree is pummeled, soaked, boiled, washed and pummeled some more, to obtain the fibres to make the Sa Paper which is used to cover the parasol frames.