Halftime, and nothing's happening

At the midway mark of this latest tour of duty in Chiang Mai, it's time to report in on miscellaneous this and that:

---

Albert shoots nothing in particular.

Rewind to a week ago, and the arrival of new pal Albert on the midnight flight from Penang. At the tail-end of a business trip, Albert is spending a week in northern Thailand as a volunteer at an elephant rescue and rehabilitation park. There, he'll work with the hill tribes to wrangle and care for elephants that were once abused in illegal logging, street begging and other practices. For this sweat-stained, mosquito-bitten week of drudgery he is paying $500. Terrific. Now I can never again enjoy five days at a beach resort in southern Thailand for that same amount of money without feeling selfish and despicable. Thanks a LOT, Albert!

We meet up Sunday morning at his guest house and set out on foot to see the sights, steering way clear of the farang ghetto that is the moat area. Instead we aim for Warorot Market and Chinatown, where Albert and I are practically the only white folks in the crowd. For hours we wander up and down side streets and through the market, snapping pictures and soaking in the thai thai ambience.

We meet up again later in the afternoon and, for contrast, aim straight for tourist central.

"You want massaaaaaage?" the parlor ladies sing-song as we make our way along Loi Kroh Road, past the  eateries and pubs and tuk-tuks and travel agencies toward the east moat, stopping for a beer or two along the way. Near Thapae Gate we connect with Lian and the three of us stroll the Sunday Walking Market, dining on cheap eats in the temple yard at Wat Pan On and indulging in one-hour foot massages. Most tourist stuff I detest, but Sunday Walking Market, with its live music and handicrafts and wonderful food, never gets old.

---

One evening I turn Lian onto YouTube.

Giving of myself to advance professional development.

"Whatever you can think of, YouTube has it: cooking, travel, anything! Many, many videos," I enthuse. "Tell me what you want to see."

She eyes the MacBook screen and replies instantly: "Want video Japanese facial massage." Tap-tap-tap, and darned if we don't pull up a slew of tutorials. Out come the moisturizers and other glop, and for the next hour or so I am a totally willing practice dummy as the earnest student imitates the action onscreen. God, I love technology!

---

More food porn.

This awesome salad is thrown together during a crashing thunderstorm and downpour as the power keeps blinking on and off. The sausage, brought back from the south, is candy-sweet, and Thai chiles dot the greens like tiny landmines.