#1 in Ubon

After a long hiatus from the internet (i spent most of the last week in the middle of a ricefield, penned in by torrential rain), i am ready to post again. Last Saturday, I hopped on a bus to Ubon Ratchatani, or Ubon, to pay a visit to an American professor, Dr. Peter Vail, who has done extensive work with Muay Thai fighters in the past.

Vail is currently doing linguistic research among the ethnically diverse populations of Isaan (straddling the Lao and Cambodian borders) whose political status remains hazy more than 2 decades following regional demographic-shifting conflicts. The Khmer, Suai, Lao, and Guay ethnolinguistic groups are all well represented in the Muay Thai world, even if their status as Thai citizens remains a persistent question. I'm content with getting down as much Thai/Lao as possible for now.

I arrived in Ubon in the rain, a theme that would persist throughout the week. Motoring across the sprawling city, I had the oportunity to visit several muay thai camps that each offered a different view of the life of a muay thai fighter. With two helpful guides named Pooky and Boy, students at Ubonratchatani University, we set out from the university area (15 km outside of the city) on a daily basis to conduct our survey. Although we visited a half dozen camps, two in particular grabbed my attention.

Slow times on the khlong

I arrived in Bangkok early Friday morning, and the Morchit bus station was already bustling. From Morchit, I checked out the Chatuchak weekend market, located at the Skytrain stop that is also puzzlingly named Morchit.

There I picked up a bag that would more comfortably accomodate my video camera and enhance my mobility when I reached Thonburi, my Muay Thai destination. After a brief stop at a huge electronics mall near Ratchetewi in central Bangkok, I was off to figure out how to locate my friend Krailadh in the somewhat less bustling, but equally confusing streets and lanes across the river.

It is important to note the enormous cultural leap that one makes once he hits the streets of Bangkok. Although many of the people may trace their roots to the provinces, there is a very definite departure from the markedly slower place of even the provincial metropolitan centers. The chaotic sprawl of this fabled city is so full of buses, tuk-tuks, cars, and swarming motorcycles that it seems to be held together with an atmospheric glue of steam and exhaust fumes.

When one hops into a cab in central Bangkok, a dramatic change occurs somewhere along the way on the other side river, where the old capital of Thonburi quickly transitions into areas of stunning greenery, seemingly unthinkable moments before. Palm trees, bushes and winding canals(khlongs) are interpersed with more sparsely sprouting residences that indicate what Bangkok looked like before it became a concrete jungle of businessmen, swindlers, noodle jockeys and slaves(although piled and scattered garbage is still a ubiquitous presence). During the long taxi ride, the driver(who happened to be from Khon Kaen) and I discussed the difference in the lifestyle in Bangkok and Isaan, and we both agreed that the food was better in Isaan, but he explained that the money available in Bangkok is worth the sacrifice of the laid-back lifestyle of his home in the village, where he supported a wife and two children, splitting time and money between another wife and two children in Bangkok.

Following several confusing telephone conversations between the taxi driver and my host, Krailath, we finally ground to a halt by a som tam (Isaan papaya salad) stand along one of the unending Sois (sidestreets) that snake from the main roads with no outlet. This allowed Krailath, who is infinitely more familiar with the layout of the area, to track me down on his bike. The taxi driver treated me to a mid-afternoon snack of ground pork, chili peppers, and pigskin, accompanied by the everpresent/delicious sticky rice that characterizes Isaan cuisine, as we waited for Krailath to arrive.

Kingstar Revisited

Going it alone really hasn't worked that well, because travelling around what amounts to the countryside surrounding the university can be as baffling as trying to fight a jellyfish with your feet. Having gone to visit the Kingstar training camp (the proving ground of gold-medalist and national hero Somlak Kuamsing) two weeks ago and spoken to a trainer named Chanasuk, I had been hesitant to go back because Chanasuk had taken flight to Bangkok(presumably to train fighters), which his wife(still in khon kaen) regrettably informed me when my friend called his number

A friend of mine whose father was acquainted with the owner of the camp tracked down the number of his tailor shop in the city. Unfortunately, his discussion of muay thai revolved around the 'third wheels' that have given him so much trouble (outside influences that try to draw away the boxers' allegiance in the gambling oriented sport) including pulling away great boxers like Somlak Kauamsing from his sphere of influence. Gambling is a big part of boxing everywhere, accompanied by the corruption that can tempt the individuals who fight for a living. Fortunately, the owner gave me his blessing to proceed with my research at the camp.

When I revisited the camp, a different trainer was there, with even greater credentials than Chanasuk, who was a national champion. This trainer, a little older and more worse for the wear, claimed to be great friends with Somlak Kuamsing, which I don't doubt. The trainer, whose name is Dhawee Umponmaha, was the first Thai to win a silver medal as an Olympic Boxer. He recounted his experience at he 1984 summer games in Los Angeles, as well as his journey to gold at the the Southeast Asian games. One of 10 children from a village near Pattaya, Dhawee became a professional at the age of 9 when he went to Chantaburi, after he and the rest of his brothers spent time as a novice monk following the death of his parents.

I am going back to the Kingstar camp this afternoon, and have plans to spend the weekend inBangkok, visiting a friend who is also a kickboxer and possibly making an appearance at Kingstar's Bangkok branch.

Punkery

Well I finally got soem tangible work done when I went to Wat Tep fully equipped to interview the Mahachulalongkorn students with (questionable) translator in tow. Although my bag was light, I felt weighed down by my newly-purchased digital voice recorder, digital camera, and digital video camera. I thought the gadgets would overwhelm my prospective interviewees (is that the right word?) and put a wedge in your communication, but was comforted by the confines of the temple, freeing me from my fear of bandits.

The translator that came recommended to me proved to be less of a utility than I had hoped, because all of the monks were eager to speak in English with me (seeing that the language was part of their course of study at the monk university).

I had met several of the monks in the city the day before, where they had swarmed me with digital recorders when I had gone to visit Wat Nong Wen with the afformentioned Kanokporn as my guide (a short-lived association, seeing as I was unable to overcome the unending barrage of questions from a steady stream of young and eager monks, emerging from the fog dazed and disoriented). The tourist-attracting beauty of Wat Nong Wen's 9-tiered edifice seemed to be the perfect trap for their English project.

Once inside the monastery/university, I was invited to the third floor office of a monk/english teacher named Phra Narlong, who also requested that I be a guest speaker at his class. He was quite knowledgeable about muay thai, and acknowledged its recreational importance during his youth growing up in the central provinces. His enthusiasm for the sport was demonstrated by his promise that a few monks in his entourage could show me a few moves. This was somewhat suprising to me, but he was quick to note the prevalence of muay thai bouts at seasonal temple fairs and the historical role of the monk as master of the martial art. A frequent visitor to his hometown, he noted the predominant position that soccer had taken as the sport of choice, although the top boxers uniformly emerged from the rural poor.

Entering the classroom, I was greeted enthusiastically. I had hoped to have a more individualized sit-down with the monks, but perhaps it was more interesting to get a broader picture of those who had come to study at the university.

Phra Narlong was quite knowledgeable and outspoken, but with the translator in tow, i felt obligated to speak with monks with a leser command of the language. I next moved onto Phra Halls, whose spirited elucidation of his beliefs is in the process of translation (hopefully not lost). Hopefully I will be able to elaborate on these exchanges in the near future, depending on the quality of the translation, but the common reasoning behind all the monks' ordination was to become a better person and to bring honor upon the family, with many hoping to oneday study in India.

Coming into the class, I was greeted enthusiastically. I had hoped to make more individualized inquiries, but my introduction to the broad range of students studying english was enlighteneing. I was surprised to note that undergraduates ranged from the age of 20-36 ranging from distant provinces of 3 countries in a single classroom.

One particular student, who I interviewed on video in front of the class, was a 24-year-old from Bangkok who had once studied as a university layman in Bangkok, favoring a 'punk' lifestyle. He described himself as a 'nakleng', or street tough/gangster, who had broken his mother's heart when he was expelled from school. The reasoning behind choice to be ordained was expressed with unmatched sincerity, as he descrbed his struggle to improve his life for the good of both himself and most importantly his mother.

I would like to explore further the issue of monks from Laos, because their monastic ambitions may be of most import to my research.