Chiang Mai-way and the Highway (or: In Which Emma Potters around in Chiang Rai)

---

After some much-needed recharge in Chiang Mai, Kent and I set off to the Chiang Mai TAT (Tourism Authority of Thailand.. every bigish town has one) and explore our surround while we're at it. The old town of Chiang Mai, where we were staying, is a grid of wats and outdoor markets, and surrounded by a moat. The TAT office was dissapointingly unhelpful, but we did get bus scheduals to the Northern/Laos border towns, essential for the next leg of my travels. We walked back through town, and then Kent went off to do some computering and I wandered the streets around our guesthouse. Finally I stopped at the "Same Same Cafe" to read and chill out.

Sidenote: I have realized up until this point, I haven't exactly been pointing out some of the normal phenomena of Thailand. I guess I just find them too.. normal?
So: -"Same Same, But Different" is a ubiquitous saying here in Thailand. I've actually heard its the name of the company that produces all the Western knockoffs, but the meaning goes so much deeper than that (hah). People say "Same Same" for pretty much anythings that seem similar but are in fact separate.
-"No Money No Honey" is not some hot new hiphop song, but a lighthearted saying for a pretty real fact of life here. Basically, (and this was explained to us by Lupang in Cambodia, but it seems to be a similar case here in Thailand) men have to pay for the entire wedding in the case of marriage here. Women have to be beautiful and probably young to land a husband, and men have to be able to afford it, which usually takes quite a few years of work and saving; thus, "no money, no honey."
-7/11 is EVERYWHERE. One on every block. Sometimes two. And they're not just junk food and soft porn, as we are accustomed to in Canada. Oh no, these are the stops where you can get your breakfast, lunch, or dinner (albeit fast), beer, school supplies, toiletries, or Lonely Planet guidebooks (real ones!). I have also seen 7/11 commercials on TV. Fer reals.
Those are a few for now. Back to our regularly-planned programming:

So sitting in Same Same, reading "Love in the Time of Cholera," I start talking to some farang sprawled around a hookah nearby. And just like that, they invite me out for dinner and clubbing! (It was comforting to know that I could actually meet people, that meeting Kent wasn't just a fluke. It also got me formulating the theory that farang gravitate towards eachother, but more on that later. ) Amalia was a 20-something from Eugene, Oregon who had just been teaching English for three months in Pai (a tiny hippy mountain town, a few hours from Chiang Mai). Grant was a grad student from N Carolina, who was "collecting data for his thesis around different demographics that listen to trance music." And finally Wozzy, a slightly older than usual Australian backpacker who was leaving the next day for Bangledesh. We went out to dinner to a pizza place, but I was both too cheap and too shocked to get a pizza (pizza! in Thailand!). As we headed across town to a bar, we ran in to Kent eating dinner, who said he'd catch up with us later. We went to the Riverside Bar, which had live music and lots of people, but a supreme lack of dancing space. I was pretty dissapointed and not into drinking at the moment, but had a good time chatting with these new people and enjoying the music (one of the Thai kids singing had an incredibly deep, almost Nickelback-esque voice. Really unique!) We walked around for a bit, ran into Kent again, and faded off the evening with the promise that I'd come check out Pai before Amalia was to leave for the States.

The next morning Kent and I got breakfast, and walked around a little checking out the wats, but I was itching to get on the road to Chiang Rai, and so very quickly departed. Kent had been a great travel mate, but I was ready to move on. The bus ride was uneventful aside from being punctuated by gorgeous, rolling mountains. All the foliage and hills made me very nostalgic for home!
I was planning on meeting up with Somluk Pantiboon, a potter who came highly recommended from our friends the Stichburys. I had been in contact with Tomako, his wife, since the end of May, and, basically, had planned my trek North around visiting them. But, seeing as I couldn't get a hold of them at that time, I arrived in Chiang Rai and decided to get a room for the night. After stepping off the bus and looking around, being accosted by the usual enslaught of tuk tuk drivers, a farang girl next to me asked "Do you have accomodation yet?" When I said no, she suggested me venture on together, and that's how I met Tina. Tina is from Sweden, but after working in Denmark for a while she had been travelling in Southeast Asia for the past 5 months. She had a great sense of humour and we compared all the different types of travellers we had met thus far. We came to our lodgings quite accidentally, when we hid under a residential house's awnings from a sudden downpour. The homeowner came down and we asked him where we could find a guesthouse. He pointed us in the general direction, but then said his sister had a room available. Slightly wary but fairly confident, we followed him to an extremely normal apartment-type complex, where we got a room with two beds and fan and all, for a great price. He and many others I've encountered thus far are a testament to the people I've met in the North- people are just more laid back and kinder here, which is a relief...I was worried they were all going to be the same pushy types we encountered in the south. After getting settled, we went to town and wandered about for a few hours, though Chiang Rai really only featured one main street, so it was a pretty early night. We got up pretty early the next morning and headed to the bus station, where Tina headed to Chiang Khong (on the Laos border) and I had breakfast waiting for a tuk tuk driver to pick me up and take me to Somluk's studio. After an hour and some uncertain correspondance with incorrect tuk tuk drivers, my guy showed up. The studio was only about a half hour drive, and I could have bussed, but honestly I wasn't clear on Tamako's instructions on the phone, and thought the tuk tuk was a safer bet.

I finally arrived at the studio without mishap, and so the next leg of my adventure began. The studio- a totally serious ceramics operation- was unlike anything I had ever seen. Crates of bisqued cups awaited to be sanded and glazed. Fired plates filled shelves. The grounds were filled with huge planters and vases of various shapes and colours. All the while, employees were running around, sanding, glazing and sorting. Somluk was quite distracted in his studio as he was preparing for an exhibit in Bangkok next month, so Tamako showed me around the studio and show room. Somluk, who has been in this field for over 30 years, was creative director of many functional household objects as well as contemporary artist. Tamako ran the business side of things, as well as advised on some design descisions. I learned that they met years ago when they were both doing skills training for Cambodian refugees in Northeastern Thailand. To this day, a huge part of Somluk's practice is his integration with the local villagers and hilltribe natives, training them in pottery so that they have a workable income. Very inspiring!

After some discussion, I unfortunately realized that I wasn't in Thailand long enough to really get proper training. Tamako instead suggested that I stay until the weekend and see how things around the studio go. Afterwards, she mentioned that Somluk's niece has a school in Chiang Khong who were always open to English volunteers. After calling around, it was arranged- I would be picked up on Sunday. I was a little dissapointed that I wouldn't get to stay longer at the studio, but thought teaching English would be a really fun experience. In the meantime, I could stay at the studio in exchange for helping out the employees. I got right to work, helping about three other people sand the sharp edges off some greenware (unfired clay) casts. I was very doubtful of what I was doing and this was accentuated by the fact that no one spoke English. The workday ended quickly enough at 5, and I took a shower before heading out with Somluk, Tamako, and their son Kotaro to a traditional Japanese Shamisen concert. (We stopped by their house first, which was recently built in the quintessential modern Japanese-inspired style. Which, if you know me at all, will know I was absolutely melting for the design- all of which was done by Somluk and Tamako).

When we arrived, we were greeted by some other farang, who were old neighbours of Somluk's. I quickly found out that Ellen and her two daughters, Grace and Emily, were hardly farang: they were Mormon missionaries and had been living in Thailand for the last eight years. Even so, the girls looked as out of place as I felt (to be fair, this was a Japanese, not Thai, event). The shamisen playing was beautiful, but the traditional singing was a bit shrill, even for Japanese native Tamako, so after intermission we all moved on to the terrace to listen from afar. Ellen and the girls were really nice, and we all talked about my schooling and Emily's adventures for the coming year (she just graduated high school). After the concert, the seven of us headed into Chiang Rai for a pizza dinner! It was such a luxury I couldn't believe it. We left very full and content, and the Pantiboons dropped me off at the studio. Having a small house- including hot shower, kitchen, and internet- completely to myself has been an amazing feeling, and has really made me appreciate the luxury of something as simple as privacy!

The next three days were chock full of ant-like assembly line work. Not what one would expect in a rural pottery studio eh? I worked behind Pah and Tip, and the three of us did odd jobs around the showroom and studio, namely sanding countless commercial bisqued (fired) pieces in preparation for glazing. The glaze firing was set for Saturday, so everyone was bustling about in preparation. The days were interesting for me, but fairly uneventful... lots, and lots of sanding. Occasionally scraping off excess glaze. Also casting! Which I had mad skills from from taking Ceramics this spring. I made many little cats, which I think are chopstick stands, though I could be mistaken. Every now and then, there would be a rush of glazing, which was really really cool... lots of artful dipping. What was the best (and maybe worst part) of all of this was that no one spoke English, and I speak virtually no Thai. It is an unreal and very humbling experience to be a visible minority, let alone barely being able to understand the talk flying about you. I know a couple times they were talking about me (farang is a handy and very distinctive word), but I found it kind of funny to be a source of amusement- though I probably came off as being really, really dumb. I'm thankful for Pah and Tip, who were very patient and good at miming.

Finally, Saturday afternoon I got to do some throwing (pottery on the wheel). It was my first time and I was strangely nervous, but as Somluk said again and again, "A potter can only become good with practice," so no pressure. An older potter named Ung was my instructor, and thankfully he could speak English. Not that I got that much instruction. Ung sat down, made a perfect cylinder cup, and then basically threw me into it (pun intended). Now, I knew wheelthrowing was hard. But it is HARD. Out of 5 hours at the wheel, I managed 6 reasonable cylinders, and even those were pretty lacking. For future reference: I need to learn and practice how to keep it centred. But, frustrations aside, it was amazing fun and I can't wait to do more when I get back to Vancouver... get ready for clay cups for gifts! I have definitely come to a new level with ceramics and I'm really excited to be taking it in the fall... mmm clay...

Outside of pottering around, I haven't done much, though a note should be added about all the new and interesting foods I've been trying. Contrary to Thai restaurants at home and street vendors here, Thai people don't eat Pad Thai all the time. In fact, I'm convinced that they rarely eat it. Instead, I've had a week of awesome homecooked meals- various soups, fish, bamboo in various preparations, and vegetables (which I had been feeling a lack of previously). And of course, fresh fruit, namely the sweetest, juciest pineapple that grows about 100 metres from where I now sit (a loi= delicious!!!!). Also lovely lychee, and a new one, "jackfruit" which has been very interesting... a subtly sweet fruit with an almost plastic-rubber consistancy.

Anyway, I'm glad to be finally done this blog entry, though I am very sad to be leaving Doy Din Dang Studio. Living here and working with Somluk has really shown me the life of an artist and commercial potter. He was telling me that being a commercial producer is a lot of sacrifice as an artist- you have to do alot of things you really dislike in order to make a living. But that just makes your own practice all the more worthwhile, right?
Just some things to ponder.

Sweet hearts and full minds,
Em

---

Photos

Sort of Same Same
The Cafe thought highly of itself.

A whole lotta pot
Not that kind! Geez, this is Thailand guys!

So. Many. Cups.
Did I mention I'm sort of in love?

Co-Ant Pah
Sanding some knicknacks

The Masta
Somluk, glazing.

Just a Sanding Fool
I feel like a farmwife.

Cat assembly line
"Mao". Lots and lots of Mao.

The First Cup
This took like... 5 tries?

A Hard Day's Work
From left to right, my first attempt to the last... the last was definitely the best, albeit smallish.

"Its AHRT, Darling"
I made a sculpture out of my failed cup attempts. Reminds me of scuba diving...

Potters Like it Dirty
You get the picture.

Comments

[mjist]

wowee! you do get around. scuba diving to pottering! how very hands on.

[Emily]

cool!!!!!!
wow Emma! you're blog is amazing!! and your previous pictures of the temples were/are amazing!! It's sounding like you're having a really great time. Somluk's studio sounds really cool and the scuba diving just amazing! I can't wait to see the rest of your photos :D:D