My room is upstairs in the office, and other employees live here too. This is pretty common for NGOs in Indonesia, maybe even in Asia. My project is one devised by the People Resources Conservation Foundation (http://www.prcfoundation.org/) in support of the Jasa Menenun Mandiri Cooperative.

The JMM Cooperative, previously situated in the Kobus Center, is now located in its own three-story, award winning facility.

The cooperative is a point of sales for approximately 400 Dayak women weavers in twelve kampung (villages) surrounding Sintang, West Kalimantan, Indonesia. This Dayak “Desa” tribe, indigenous people of the Sintang district of West Kalimantan, incorporate adbtract motifs into their traditional handicraft in order to tell a story: their history, their dreams and their aspirations.

The daily operations of the cooperative are managed by a representative body of the twelve villages, by nineadult children of the weavers. All in their 20s and early 30s, this group is extremely competent and creative. Just ask the Jakarta auditor who came expecting some poorly run operation and who was incredibly impressed with their business activities.

I gave a presentation on the first two days at the co-op. They all sat, attentive to my very broken Bahasa Indonesian mixed with (a lot of) English as my boss tried his best to assist with the translations. Eager to learn, and extremely intelligent, they made this awkward experience for me a little easier.

The majority of the Dayak product line consists of tenun Ikat (a traditional weaving style). This line ranges from thin neck scarves to full blanket-sized items. The majority of the woven fabrics are made with natural dyes and the workmanship is as intricate as it is amazing. I particularly like the baskets, some similar to the rattan ones that I have seen the village women carrying their produce in. If we didn’t get 100 meters of snow every winter, I’m sure they would be popular in Montreal.

With the assistance of Pastor Jacques Maasen of the Kobus Center, a new museum has opened in Sintang, showcasing antique peices of this tradional artform.

These activities fall under the “weaving arts cultural revitalization” efforts created by the PRCF (People Resources and Conservation Foundation), the KOBUS Center, and YSDK (a local NGO based in West Kalimantan).

This is the first of two times that I got to ride a camel. The photo featured here was of a tourist trap camel ride on the beach of Essaouira, my favorite city in Morocco. The other was a real two hour camel ride to a dessert campsite (more on this at http://seesimi.com/sleeping-in-the-sahara/).

Ok, back to the actual means of public transportation…

Generally speaking you can take the “autobus”, “grand taxi” or “petit taxi” anywhere you want to go. The country also has an amazing rail system that I got to take advantage of several times throughout my six month stay.

“Autobus” is the French word for bus (shocking!) and these are colour coordinated and numbered in Rabat, the administrative capital of Morocco. The bus I took to and from work everyday was the 58, traveling from Hassan to Agdal (you have to ask around to know which bus goes where, since there are no route plans). I loved that the Number 58 bus was army green, with camouflage motif.

The 58 is a very popular bus, going through two main areas of the city. This bus was so popular that I would often have to watch six packed Number 58 buses pass by before one would stop to let me on.  I am using the word “stop” lightly, since generally they would just slow down enough for you to run and hop on. Luckily for me, volunteers would help pull me onto the moving bus, so I never did fall flat on my face.

Story break: You do have to watch your bags though. Once when the bus wasn’t crowded and I was actually able to get a seat, an old man with a walker sat down beside me. I was looking out the window when I felt that someone was staring at me. I turned to look at her face, and followed her glance down to my bag. The seemingly sweet old man sitting beside me had both hands in the top compartment of my backpack. When he realized he had been caught, he made a “quick” getaway by limping his way to the front of the bus with his walker, looking back at me to see what I would do. The only thing I could do was laugh, since there was only a pack of Kleenex in that pocket of my bag.

Despite how packed the bus is, the conductor is still able to make his way through the crowd to collect the payment.  How he keeps track of who has and has not paid, I will never understand.   Another thing that impressed me was that if you are holding too many bags, or are traveling with a child, people actually hold them for you, if they have a seat and you don’t.

The “Grand Taxi“, or big taxi, is an old Mercedes that is used to transport 7 people at a time: the driver plus two people sit in the front, with four other passengers in the back. Generally I used these to get between cities, or into the country side.

The “petit taxi” is a regular, city taxi. In my experience, these drivers were all very nice, and were surprisingly honest.

Morocco also provided my first sighting of group motorbike travel. Entire families can be transported on a mini motorcycle: dad driving, 4 yr old daughter hanging on to him in front, 7 month son being held by the mother behind. Considering the speeds that they are traveling at, it is amazing how no one falls off.   The same can actually be applied to BICYCLES, but with three people instead of four!

But first, let me talk about Singapore a bit.

SINGAPORE IS INSANE, in the way that it differs from the surrounding countries (Malaysia, and Indonesia in particular). The city is extremely super organized, super clean and super modern.

Here people greet you in Mandarin, and with the same breath, curse you in Tamil.

…where the floor mats were molded and had to be removed, leaving a completely rusted floor. The holes allowed you to see the road rolling by under your feet.

… where the transmission was completely finished. Every time the driver used the brakes, the car would stall and need to be restarted. Was wonderful fun in the rush hour traffic that we were caught in.

… where the seats were soaked from rain water.

… where a spoon had to be used to manually wind up the windows.

… where the backseat was substituted for the top of an ironing board.

… where the front seat was attached to the car’s frame by a small rope.

These were my taxi experiences in Yangon (previously Rangoon), the former capital of Myanmar (previously Burma).

I had the chance to catch up with a friend from Indonesia while I was in Yangon. She is just finishing up a two year placement with an NGO (non governmental organization) and felt that it was time to move. Apparently a two year stay in Yangon changes you. It was great to hear her perspective about Yangon. When out for coffee, the first thing she asked me was about the taxis. I guess it’s a pretty common thing for foreigners to comment on.

She did go on to explain that in a conversation she had with a taxi driver, she found out that his 20 year old vehicle cost him USD $20,000!  A 5 year old vehicle can run you up to USD $100,000.  Public safety interests aside, most Burmese have no choice but to keep these cars on the road since they can’t afford to do otherwise.

At $20,000 (not taking gas and maintenance costs into consideration), it would require 13,400 rides for the driver to pay for the car since a typical cab fare is about $1.50/ride. With this in mind, you may be extremely appreciative of their car repair creativity.

At home we are all chefs, or so we pretend to be when we dine in. Meals are planned ahead of time, researched on the Internet. We watch cooking shows on a network entirely dedicated to food. Our magazines and weekend newspapers include a section on dining. I have even participated in two food competition social events amongst friends (have not yet won though…). No matter what it tastes like, if it was prepared with love, we “ooohhh” and “aaaah” and thank the host for “such a delicious meal and a wonderful evening”. Dining out is so cherished in Montreal that we have festivals for it. This photo was taken at Aix Cuisine du Terroir, a participant in the Happening Gourmand Festival held in Montreal annually in January. http://www.happeninggourmand.com/

In Thailand, my new home, people seem to focus on their food intently, studying it. Equipped with a fork in the right hand and a spoon in the left, diners sort the food before eating it. The spoon stays still, waiting for the selections of the fork to make the perfect bite: a little rice, a small piece of meat, a green on top, and don’t forget the sauce! Once the perfect spoonful of food is selected, it is then placed in the mouth and the entire process is repeated. I love it.

Often I am asked what the food from my country is like. I always feel guilty that I can rarely name five “Canadian” dishes (poutine is always number one…) since some of the best food I have had at home have come from other countries. I could probably name you ten Indian, Lebanese, Japanese and Polish dishes respectively. When visiting Vancouver, I discovered their west coast fusion food incorporating flavours from Asia with everything tasty that North America has to offer. Nevertheless, I still wound up eating at an amazing little Ethiopian restaurant to catch up with a friend who moved there to study.

In tribute to my favorite pastime, and quite possibly the thing I do best, here is a photo collection of my favorite gastronomical experiences.

Meals enjoyed with old friends at Salamanca Tapas Resto in Dublin for my 24th birthday with the awesome Ganit. This is the best tapas I have ever had in my life.

Or meals enjoyed with new ones, my housemate and some teachers from the Realia Language School. Yogya is an awesome student town, with tons of open air restaurants offering live music performances from local bands.

Food that is really good for you… (Well plated, healthy meal at Cafe Via Dante in Montreal) www.cafeviadante.com

And food that can make your heart stop. Miss Mamie’s Shortbread Too, Authentic Southern Cuisine in Harlem, New York City. There are three meats on this plate: catfish, ribs, fried chicken, paired with three sides:  candied yams, collard greens and rice and peas.

Food that is famous…Cheeseburger and fries at Shake Shack, New York City. We got in line at 11am just to make sure we would get to eat around noon. People come from all over the city for these famous burgers, waiting in line for up to an hour before placing their order.

And food that is infamous: Quebec’s classic poutine dolled up with sweet potato fries, caramelized onions, cranberries and pulled pork at Cafe Local, Montreal.

Food that is always readily available: Street food in Seoul, South Korea always ready to serve deep fried deliciousness.

And food that you need to earn: the “ftour” in Rabat, Morocco to break a long day of fasting for Ramadan. Figs have never tasted so good.

Food almost too pretty to eat: Japanese meal on Bintan Island, Sumatra, Indonesia.

And food that you have to close your eyes just to get into your mouth: fried tarantula, Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

I find our society’s relationship with food fascinating, mostly because I am personally obsessed with it. We make charts about it, monitoring everything we eat. We speak to professionals about it, trying to get the most out of it. We take photos of it, photos with it, write about it, dream about it, talk about it.  Some even love to hate it. I’m definitely not alone in my obsession.

Well, almost back to normal.

The streets are cleared of tires, protesters, barricades and the remnants of arson activity. The tanks have rolled out of the city center, no more soldiers keeping post outside of my apartment building, and thankfully, no more curfews.

It was… an experience. Trapped in my apartment with my roommate (poor girl!) for days on end really made me appreciate the little things like going out to get groceries…and toilet paper!!!!. And my love for public transportation is definitely re-affirmed.

Living on the 17th floor of a building only 1km away from the madness did grant me access some powerful views. Here is my “Phaya Thai” experience of the civil unrest in Bangkok:

Empty shelves at the local 7-Eleven, which subsequently closed for the remainder of the unrest. I made it out to this 7-Eleven on the Saturday before the riots in hope of stocking up on snacks and toiletries. This is what most of the shelves looked like. I was able to buy Pringles, toothpaste and laundry detergent. But not the instant noodles, eggs, milk, bread and toilet paper that I was in need of. Thankfully the little restaurant located in the pathway of my building remained open the entire time. Where she got her groceries, I will never know.

For most of the time of unrest my street remained closed with army checkpoints set up around the Phaya Thai and Petchaburi intersection. I had no idea the other parts of Bangkok were completely unaffected by the protests and that life beyond my area was continuing normally.

For hours, the tire smoke filled the air. At first, in the earlier part of the day, the air was thick and black as can be seen in the photo above. The wind blew the fumes into my building, 1.5 kms away, filling the corridors with a smoky mist and a smell of burnt rubber. The building on the far right is Central World Mall, which was later looted and burned.

As usual I was watching the news both on my laptop (CNN and BBC) and then the local news on the TV, translated by my roommate.  I watched the news this way, because I learned early on that the local and international press were reporting different “facts”.

Prior to the riots, on local TV, my roommate translated the speech of the Red Shirt leaders who had surrendered with the wise words of: “today is not our day” (loosely translated). As soon as the speech was over I could see the events posted on Facebook to celebrate the end of the madness. The pessimists like myself knew that this was the beginning of a new, more chaotic phase of the protests.

And it sure was. Within the hour there were explosions, and then the looting and burning began.

Last week I finally decided to take a walk in Siam Square and head past Central World on my way to yoga. This is the side view of the damage done to Central World mall, almost 100% of the damage happened to “Zen” department store, seen here.

]]> http://seesimi.com/one-month-later-bangkok-after-the-turmoil/feed/ 0 http://seesimi.com/changemakers/ http://seesimi.com/changemakers/#comments Mon, 07 Jun 2010 04:06:00 +0000 admin http://seesimi.com/?p=897 People Resources Conservation Foundation (PRCF) Indonesia is committed to the conservation of natural resources and sustainable socioeconomic development, promoting the participation of local communities while enhancing their institutional capacities and revitalizing their cultural identity. (www.prcfoundation.org).

Recently PRCF Indonesia was selected as one of 10 finalists from over 260 solutions entered in the Women | Tools | Technology Challenge.

PRCF Indonesia’s Submission involves:

The use of technology and advanced techniques for the conversion of natural dye materials (plants, bark, etc) to powder or liquid form to ensure: (i) Efficient production processes by the indigenous, women weavers (ii) Improved health and safety standards (iii) Sustainable use of Non-Timber Forest Products and(iv) Products adapted to better meet market demand. (http://www.changemakers.com/en-us/node/73660?breadcrumb_type=finalists)

To Vote:

1. Go to http://www.changemakers.com/en-us/technologywomen.
2. Vote for: Innovative Dye-material Processing in Support of Women Handicraft and Small Enterprise
3. You will be required to create  profile (sorry!) to vote. They will send a confirmation e-mail to you to finalize this vote.

Thanks you for your time and support!

Getting to Ayuthaya from Bangkok was really easy. We opted for a local train (no air-con…)  which only cost 20 Baht and took under two hours to get there. In retrospect, I really wish I had packed a snack and some water!

Once off the train we were ambushed by the tuk-tuk drivers waiting outside the station eager and ready for a new customer. Generally, I feel very overwhelmed when this happens: many faces pointing up at me (I’m much taller than most Thai men, let alone women), pointing at laminated cardboard signs, speaking loudly and rapidly in a mix of broken English and the local language, gesturing for me to follow. Thankfully, my friend visiting from Canada was her usual calm self.  We politely declined many of the offers with a big smile and small shake of the head and made our way to a couple in their green tuk-tuk. What appealed us most about this tuk-tuk was that it was really cute, but more importantly it had a female who spoke English at a more than reasonable level. The price negotiated was 1000 Baht (well 800 Baht and we gave them a 200 Baht tip) for the full day, not including all of the entrance fees to the temples or meals. Most temples free, and the three that weren’t cost approximately 30 Baht each.

I was very happy with our choice. The couple was friendly and really made our day comfortable. They took us to seven temples throughout the day from Wat Phra Sanphet to Wat Phra Mahathat, giving a brief history of each site, and provided us with pamphlets of information to supplement our Lonely Planet guides. We had learned that the wife had lost her job, and had in turn decided to help her husband attract new business as a tuk-tuk driver. In truth, it was a strategy that worked since it really differentiated them from the others at the station.

I should talk about temples now! Look how long this is getting…

Our first stop was at Wat Phra Sanphet with Buddha statues covered in bright yellow silk shawls. We spent a long time there trying to take it all in. It’s amazing that Ayuthaya was once a former capital city of Thailand. Wat Phra Mahathat reminded me of the Angkor temples (Cambodia) with the tree roots overtaking the sculpted stone, and Wat Chai Wattanaram reminded me of Prambanan (Indonesia). The large reclining Buddha (my favorite of Buddha’s poses) really drew me in at our very quick photo stop at Wat Yai Chai Mongkon. I could have stayed and stared at the statue for hours (45 degree sun aside). By the time we had reached Phukhao Thong, I was beat. The gleaming white structure seemed to reflect the sun’s rays to my direction specifically. I decided to take it all in from a distance, under the shade of a tree. Popsicles were available for sale at our last stop: Wat Phra Mahathat, making it far more favorable. The large Buddha image housed within the site’s principle building offered a shady spot to sit and relax before making the journey back to Bangkok.

To do Ayuthaya again, I would opt for a January visit where the sun is a little less strong. Although I really enjoyed the visit, I don’t think I appreciated the sights as much as I should have. Will definitely go again!

]]> http://seesimi.com/ayuthaya/feed/ 0 http://seesimi.com/may-day-in-paris/ http://seesimi.com/may-day-in-paris/#comments Mon, 10 May 2010 02:08:07 +0000 Tara http://seesimi.com/?p=421 I am really unsure how an internationally recognized, organized tour company like Contiki could not figure out a way of not spending the only day in Paris on May 1st. A national holiday known as “May Day” (the French Labour Day) meant that 95% of stores were closed. Wait! Not just stores, museums were as well meaning no Musee D’Orsay or the Louvre. Needless to say, I was not pleased. I had hoped to spend an entire afternoon with Edgar Degas and his friends, a date was that was thwarted by poor planning.

Side note: although it is the French Labour Day, we were told the story of a pilot who met an untimely death as his fighter plane was shot out of the sky. As it crashed he apparently yelled for “help” into the radio, which in French is “m’aidez! m’aidez!” and sounds like May Day in English. Not sure how true this was, but makes for an interesting story.

To top off the day, the French police patrolled the streets in vests and shields and bearing batons. They anticipated riots, particularly from the ethnic minority groups who feel discriminated against. From the bus, I witnessed police chasing and tear-gassing a group of men whizzing in and out of the alleys of the Red Light District.

The walking tour of Paris did make up for things.  The first stop was at Notre Dame Cathedral, where statues of Adam & Eve, and Mary with Jesus greet you from above.  The original statues of the Kings of Judah were pulled down during an invasion as they were mistaken for those of France.  They have since been replaced by copies. The left door of the Cathedral peaks to a point instead of the rounded domes of the other two doors. In the Gothic art style, uniformity was seen as monotonous and so one door was made different. The gargoyles line the side of the cathedral and are used as water drainers. Both inside and out, the Cathedral is architecturally stunning. A somber and dimly lit interior made the little light pouring in through the stained glass windows enchanting.

To give Montreal credit, our version: The Notre Dame Basilica, is quite nice as well.

Other things I saw in Paris but won’t go into detail about:

• The Louvre and The Musee D’Orsay (ONLY the outside) and La Pyramide at the Louvre
• The Obelisk at Place de La Concorde (absolutely beautiful)
• Hotels des Invades
• Arc de Triomphe
• « Petit » Arc de Triomphe (with the copied four horses from Venice)
• The Moulin Rouge!!
• Sacre Coeur
• L’Ecole militaire
• Jardin de Luxembourg
• Medici Street
• Les Champs Elysees
• A Smart Car!

Of course no trip to Paris would be complete without a visit of the Eiffel Tower. To save money (and time, the lines for the lift were ridiculous) I decided to walk up half the way and take an elevator for the second half. It would have obviously been cheapest to walk the entire way, but I would surely have died right there on the steps had I attempted it. The views from the top were fantastic and proved to be a great photo taking opportunity.  Following the descent, I was exhausted from my little climb and decided to buy water at the tower’s base. 5 euros for a bottle! Surprisingly, it was the same price as a mini bottle of wine, and since that seemed better value, I went for the wine instead.

Later I had Mc Donalds for lunch… how cultured of me. I did discover that you could get a beer with your trio (combo/value meal/paket)! This kick-started my obsession with going to Mc Donalds in every city I visit, looking for variances in the menu (and a cheeseburger, of course).

Thankfully dinner involved fine French cuisine, consisting of veal in cream and mushroom sauce with Basmati rice (ok, Basmati rice is not French at all…) at “La Frigette” in downtown Paris. This was followed by a nice cafe-au-lait and possibly the best chocolate cake I have had to date.  To work this off before bed, I took a walk along La Riviere Saine and over the Lover’s Bridge where I caught honeymooners taking cute pictures there. Sadly, no smooches for me!